#and go “maybe some condition is causing her struggles in speech”

[0scill4te]

I know BAP (broad autism phenotype) is controversial, but I do think its a real thing. And that most people who self DX as high-functioning autistic actually fall into the broader autism phenotype. A way to validate existing struggles and symptoms without jumping to a literal autism diagnosis.

Autism runs heavily in my family so it makes sense for me to pick up many of the traits without *actually* being autistic myself. People really look at my lack of eye contact and flat tone and jump to assume I am autistic, even teachers said I should have my parents assess me. And i believed them for a little while. But then I got older and realized damn. That was all a bunch of phooey, i feel bad for ever giving my family grief on all of that in early adulthood/teenage years. Ive met many autistic people, i relate heavily with them and connect with them more for some reason. but I myself am not on the spectrum. The more autistic people I meet, the more I see that yes, it presents very differently in all of them. But i am not like them, i do not think I am autistic as the years go on. You know? I am almost certain now.

Many of my similar struggles come from my childhood. I think a good assessment should absolutely go over your childhood to see if your social deficets come from early childhood neglect. Because a child is obviously gonna be mute and behind in speech, if she is left alone in a room all day during formative years, hopefully practioners look at this. Idk

[letters-to-rosie]

okay,,,,, hypothetically,,,,,, if one wanted to get into black power lit where would recommend they start 👀

the way I screamed lmao

first off, I wanna give a disclaimer: I am not the most well-read person in the world on Black Power. I read this sort of stuff as a hobby, and it's not the subject of my own academic work, even though I do write about race a LOT. I just like Black Power lol.

with that said, let's go through some hits!

Huey P. Newton

Newton, along with Bobby Seale, was co-founder of the Black Panther Party for Self Defense. he was murdered in 1989 and has a bit of a contentious legacy. however, while I recognize that many of Newton's personal issues got in the way of him being the most effective leader he could be, that shouldn't stop us from reading him! we never require perfection of, say, Lenin to consider him important, lol

Newton's Revolutionary Suicide is a powerful but very difficult book. I actually have yet to finish it because of the way he describes his time in solitary confinement. the conditions are literally sickening. but I want to get back to it someday. I also know there's a relatively recent reader on him that might be helpful, but I have yet to find a pdf copy of it :(

Kwame Ture/Stokely Carmichael

now for one of Newton's archnemeses! lol. Ture was a founding member of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, which hosted other famous figures such as John Lewis. he worked closely with MLK during the Civil Rights movement and was on the ground in many very difficult struggles. he would later become affiliated with the Black Panthers while Newton was in jail, and one of his most famous speeches is from the Free Huey movement. but they wound up not liking each other, mostly because Ture was firmer about not allying with other progressive movements. this caused tension with other Panthers such as Newton and Fred Hampton, who felt like allying themselves with international and local organizations was important, even if those orgs included non-black people. Ture eventually fled the US and lived most of the rest of his life in Guinea. I have a copy of a book of his speeches in the collection and highly recommend it. even when I disagree with Ture, I find him so engaging. he always makes me think. AND! if you're up for it, I'd recommend checking out some of his speeches. he was a very compelling speaker, and a bunch of his talks are uploaded on the youtube channel AfroMarxist

Angela Davis

Davis is perhaps one of the most recognizable names out of the Black Power era, probably because she's still alive, lol. Davis grew up in Alabama, and her church was famously bombed by white supremacists in 1963, killing 4 young girls. Davis would become famous a decade later when she represented herself at trial when accused of having weapons others used to kill cops. her imprisonment sparked an international movement. later on, she'd go on to become a professor, and she's still active as a public intellectual today. of her work, I've read part of Freedom Is a Constant Struggle, but I also have Women, Race, and Class and Are Prisons Obsolete? for your perusal! Davis is a leading figure in prison abolition thought, which is very very cool

Assata Shakur

Assata Shakur is known for many things, including: being the first woman on the FBI's most wanted list; being Tupac's godmother; and, most famously, being put in prison after a string of crimes she maybe did but maybe not, being freed by comrades, fleeing to Cuba, and hanging out there until the present (Newton also fled to Cuba at one point; that was a time). her autobiography is really great, though she doesn't tell you how she got out of prison. the writing is really engaging, and I think she does a great job of showing just how fucked up the surveillance of these groups was. she left the Panthers to join the Black Liberation Army, which was a very loose collective of smaller groups, but I'll let her tell the story lol

George Jackson

Jackson is the author of my current read, Blood in My Eye. he was also a member of the Panthers (there's a theme here), but he started his own group, the Black Guerilla Family, while in prison. one of the members ironically killed Newton! what a story lol. but Jackson spent the last years of his life in prison. he maintained a very militant outlook with clear principles. I really like the way he writes and his analysis, even though I'm slowly working my way through the book. he also has a famous collection of letters, Soledad Brother, which I hope to get into someday

Frantz Fanon

Fanon isn't part of the Black Power movement proper, but his writing is so influential to it it doesn't make much sense not to mention him. his main two works are Black Skin, White Masks and The Wretched of the Earth (which is in the collection). Fanon was from Martinique, moved to France, and eventually became part of the Algerian anti-colonial struggle against France. he died in his 30s!!! (Jackson died at 29, and Newton in his 40s; there's a theme here). but anyway, Fanon's brief life has powerful resonances to this day. in Wretched of the Earth he uses his background as a psychiatrist to give a really interesting analysis of the effects of violence on the colonized. Paulo Freire's famous Pedagogy of the Oppressed was actually written in response. and so were a lot of other things lol

Audre Lorde

Lorde was a big figure in the Black Arts Movement, which is associated with Black Power. her writing, along with Davis's, brings much-needed feminist (and queer! both are lesbians) analysis to the table. I've included two of her books, a poetry collection, and a collection of essays and speeches. I loveeeeeee Audre Lorde, and I highly recommend her work

Amiri Baraka

Baraka was the person who coined the term "Black Arts Movement." he wrote on a number of black art forms, but I have only so far engaged with his poetry. I have a collection here I haven't finished (full transparency, haven't finished the Lorde collection either; I kinda like to just go in there and grab a poem or two from time to time) called Transbluency. I would say that compared to Lorde, Baraka's poetry shows signs of its age more. it can get slightly toxic lol. but I find a lot of that resonates with me in it, and Baraka was so prolific that you can see how he shifts over time. someday I will find a digital copy of Un Poco Low Coup, I swear!

also gotta read Elaine Brown, Malcolm X, and Fred Hampton, but I have yet to. hopefully I have plenty of time to!

um okay this is a lot of reading!!! good luck!!! lemme know if you have questions!!

click here for pdf copies of most of the mentioned books!

[dirtytransmasc]

This might turn out like rambling but I've been thinking something around the mama Neytiri AU.

In humans there is a vocabulary "coincidence" in which many of the words for mother and father in various languages sound around the same by using the same syllables (ma, pa, da, ba, etc) because this are the first things a baby can pronounce and we started to use these sounds as a way to refer to a child's caretaker, it doesn't happen in every language but it's still enough to maybe think that the same might be true for the Na'vi.

The words Sa'nok and Sempul might be an indication that Na'vi children might be able to pronounce the sound "S" really early in life, maybe even when babbling (also there's an insane amount of words in Na'vi starting with s), so when her children grow up they have almost no trouble calling her Sa'nu.

All except for Spider.

Because humans are only able to pronounce "S" at around four or five years old.

Neytiri and Jake notice and they go and ask Mo'at for help (because speech delay is something that also happens to the Na'vi so she should know what to do), and when she can't find anything wrong, they check with Norm and Max, who tell them there's nothing wrong, it just will take more time for him to speak like his siblings.

They are both glad that there's nothing wrong with Spider but Neytiri still feels something is missing, she comes to love being referred to as Spider's "mama" by Jake and cries the when he calls her that for the first time like she would have done if he had spoken in Na'vi, but she still hopes that he is able to call her Sa'nu soon, which she will never confess to anyone.

And when it happens there's nothing anyone can do to separate her and her boy for the rest of the day.

so, I've answered this once, but I'm actually kinda excited to add onto this, cause the first time around was when I first started writing this AU, and I'm much more confident in my characterization of neytiri now. so for my long time regulars, this is gonna mostly be a repeat post.

I think neytiri has a super unique take on this, cause like any variation of the word 'mom' means the same general thing; someone who cares for you, who protects and loves you, teaches you and guides you through life. on some level, you are a part of her, physically or emotionally, even spiritually, a mother and child are bound by the bond between them at their cores. so while, yes, she would love to hear "sa'nu" would fill her heart with the upmost joy, it doesn't hinder the joy she feels hearing spider call her mama, knowing what he saw in her, what he felt about her. spider was her son and she was his mama and for a long while that was all that mattered to her. he saw her as his mama, he was one with her spirit, he looked at her with his big round eyes and saw a protector, a guide, a caretaker, someone to love him with no limit and no conditions. so she could wait as long as it took, because this was enough for her.

it does raise concerns though. would spider fall behind? should they prioritize english, would his "speech impediment" hold him back too much, how much would he struggle? neytiri still worries the most, norm and max assure her that it will all be fine, jake does as well, even mo'at, but she still worries for her littlest child. but even upon her worrying, her fauning, her mothering, spider excels; sure, he makes an odd noise when he attempts to speak words with S's in them or leaves them out all together, he takes up both na'vi and english in leaps and bounds, not even acknowledging his setbacks.

he attempts it many times before he actually gets it, adjusts to calling her that even before he gets his S's when he was 3 or so, when he realized he called her something different then his siblings, ignoring any and all coaching from jake or norm or max to call her mama (not that they don't want him to call her sa'nu, they just worry that if he's unable to pronouns it he'll either form bad habits or his frustration will stunt his willingness to learn, but like with many peoples opinions and judgements of him, spider doesn't give a single fuck). but the day he gets it right, she damn near cries all over again, like she had the first time she knew what he meant when he called her mama, when he starts calling her -a'nu. this time though, the tiny gap in her chest that had always irked her, small enough that she could pretend she didn't notice, was finally filled. she held her boy, the boy she had waited to hear call her sa'nu for the last 5 years, finally looking up at her with his sweet chocolate brown eyes and his whispy blonde hair dangling in his face, the word falling out of his mouth with a yawn as she went about her day with him bound to her chest (tell me she wouldn't baby wear that boy well into his early childhood, first off, speed demon, spider child. second off, clingy mama with an excuse to hold her baby constantly; "he's fragile jake") she immediately rushes to jake so they can both hear it, spider very proud with his new word.

I think the kids would have coached spider day in and day out till he got his S's down just for their mum. jake knew and didn't say a word, just so he could see the look on neytiri's face when she heard it.

speaking of jake, he is much less affected by spiders hinderence to say sem'pu, as when spider was still little, he was still very human in nature, so he had no qualms with being called "dad" and "dada", but he will admit, the more he hears spider attempt to say sem'pu, the more he begins to fall in love with the title. between him and the other kids, jake embraces every title they're willing to give him. he cries a little for the first couple months spder calls him dad, then -em'pu, then sem'pu (jake is the emotional parent in the, he's a blubbering idiot at all the simple things type of way, which is super sweet don't get me wrong, I just like making fun of him, cause I can. norm and max too, they totally make fun of him, but its all in good fun).

[siraathena]

Personal rant:

So you're telling me that you're NOT potty training my nephew during Your time??? Are you fucking kidding me??? That's the one thing preventing him from going to a real school and furthering his education!! 😤 I came up with this way of teaching him how to potty and it's fucking showing results! And now that you actually hear/see it, cause apparently our word isn't enough, you're surprised that he actually can??? How are you surprised??? Are you SERIOUSLY NOT TEACHING HIM LIKE WE ARE???

Back story:

My nephew is a little delayed. Maybe mild autism. Who knows. He's never been fully tested. But according to the mom, the speech therapist told her that my nephew's brain isn't connecting two and two together when it comes to going potty. He's 5 and still in diapers. (I should mention that my brother and the mom are separated because she cheated and brought the guy in within a week. 🙃 That was 3 years ago.)

During our time, I came up with the idea that we should change his diapers in the restroom. Just so he understands that that is where his business should be done. It's tedious BUT he started telling us that it's time to change him and would drag us to the restroom. NICE! He's getting it. Then he started going on his own to the restroom to change himself! YES! Some progress! Even if he ends up with diapers for a while more, at least he knows how and when to change himself! BUT guess what!? Now he's peeing on his own!!! He'll go running saying he has to go pee! He'll tell me or whoever he's with here during our time that he needs to pee and he goes off! The pooping is still a little struggle but omg he's getting it!

Which brings us to the top paragraph... I asked if the mom is keeping up with the style of how we're potty training. I asked if she stopped getting after him for going in his diaper, cause again according to her the therapist told her of his condition so my nephew has a free pass and should NOT be yelled at or hit or punished for something he can't make sense of/control. I asked. I asked because be fore the diagnosis, we started the potty training she wanted and he was eager and loved the toilet paper and flushing part. But when they'd go back with the mom, he'd reset. Seemed skittish even to potty training. And we just stopped all together.

I blame her for his delay. He such a smart and sweet happy boy. He speaks way more because of us. Because we encourage him and help him articulate and identify every day items. We buy him educational toys to play with him.

This was done from the very start for my niece. For my nephew? Nothing.

[gwaeddblaidd]

“You need to rest.”

“I’d need time for that, which I don’t have. You’re going to just have to accept that.”

Lucie simply stared daggers at that, piercing through the apathetic mask of her travelling companion. She could tell that he was exhausted, not just from their trek across the firefields but also from the weight of his injuries. He never stopped to clean his wounds, to bandage the scrapes or properly set the broken bones. No, he was a proponent of rubbing some dirt on it and moving on. It wasn’t sustainable; she could see that from a mile away. With each encounter with the local wildlife his condition worsened, what would be minor inconveniences becoming daily struggles for survival. One more pack of brave wolves that sensed his weakness, or – gods forbid – a wild drake or two… Hell, even a chance encounter with a would-be highwayman might’ve been enough to do him in. Lucie came to a halt.

“I’m serious, Gruff,” she said, speaking to the back of his head as he continued limping onwards. “I don’t know how much longer I can protect you like this.”

“Never asked for your protection,” Gruffydd said in response, without stopping or turning back. His voice was hoarse, choked by sand and forced through gritted teeth. He didn’t have time for this distraction; he needed to keep moving.

“No,” Lucie admitted, “but you need it. You’d be dead a hundred times over without me watching your back.” She paused, then added under her breath, “And front, these days…”

“No great loss…” He chuckled self-deprecatingly but it took a much heavier toll on him than he could’ve expected. The laugh quickly turned into a cough which in turn elicited a sharp pain in his ribs that forced him to take a knee. After a moment of grumbling he struck his side with a closed fist once, then twice – both times causing Lucie to wince at the impact – before picking himself up. There was no time to rest.

“It would be to me, Gruff.”

“Don’t.” The warning contained as much harshness as he could muster. “Just, don’t.”

Gruffydd stumbled forward once again, his left leg dragging and his right arm clinging to the opposite shoulder instinctively. He craned his neck back to look at the sky beyond the treeline to the west; the sun was hanging low, threatening to plunge the pair into the dark of night at any moment. How much time did he have left? A day, maybe two? The fact that he didn’t know for sure made him all the more desperate to keep moving. He couldn’t lose this opportunity.

“Is it really worth sacrificing your life?” Lucie called after him.

No hesitation. “Yes.”

Lucie had expected the answer, but she hadn’t expected it to come so quickly and without any sense of uncertainty. This wasn’t the Gruff she had spent so many years with, the Gruff she had built a life with. That, too, she supposed she already knew, but hearing it confirmed was another matter entirely.

“If you don’t want to come, just turn back. Leave me in peace.” Another bout of coughing interrupted his indignant speech, severely undercutting his authority.

“What happened to you?” she asked, not necessarily trying to sound judgemental but failing to avoid slipping into that oh-so-familiar tone.

“You know what happened. You were there.”

“I’ve never known you to be so easily broken. What, an ounce of misfortune and you fall apart completely?”

That forced Gruff to stop in his tracks. “An ounce of misfortune?” he asked incredulously, slowly turning to face her. “Oh, that’s cold even for you.”

“If that’s what it takes for you to listen-”

“He took everything from me! EVERYTHING! Each and every last shred of happiness in my life, gone in an instant! Wiped from the mortal plane, never to be seen again!” His roaring brought about his collapse much in the same way as his chuckling had previously, his burning fury reduced to a pile of pitiful ashes. “What am I to do? As a father? As a husband?”

In a flash, Lucie was at his side. “He took everything from us, Gruff. Not just you.”

Gruffydd became more solemn as he spoke, a certain vulnerability breaking through. “Don’t pretend it’s the same… Please, don’t. That’s just not fair.”

She crouched down next to him. “You’re right, it’s not the same. And it isn’t fair. Still, you’re alive. Isn’t that worth something?”

“Yes, because it gives me a chance to avenge them. All of them.” His eyes rose to meet hers, for the first time that day. “Why are you so intent on stopping me?”

“Because I know what it is to commit oneself to revenge. It doesn’t end well, Gruff; it never does.”

He scoffed. “So what, then? I just go home, pretend none of this ever happened?”

“You can’t forget, and you shouldn’t forgive. But you can still live for yourself.”

“What if I can’t? What if I don’t want to? I’m not like you, Lu – I’ve never been. I can’t just… move on.” His voice was beginning to break. “I’ve got nothing left…”

“You’ve got me.”

“But I don’t, do I?”

A sudden gust of wind whipped up a cloud of sand that nipped at Gruffydd’s face and stung his open wounds. It wasn’t a cool breeze, though – no, that would require far too much luck on his behalf. Instead, the southbound wind only served to transport heat from the northernmost parts of the firefields, an unpleasant warmth enveloping his bruised and broken form. Tears stung his eyes as his head remained lowered, his eyes transfixed upon the ground below.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m hurt and I’m tired and I’m ready to die, but I haven’t lost my mind.” A terribly sad shake of his head followed by a wistful smile forecasted what he said next. “You’re not real, Lu.”

And she wasn’t. The real Lucie would have dragged him home kicking and screaming if it came down to it; she wouldn’t need to fight him with words alone. Words were never her strong suit. Just how many situations had Gruffydd gotten the two of them out of with his quick wit? Countless. He finally met his match, though. Some would say it was inevitable that his luck would run out eventually, but perhaps he had convinced himself otherwise. He grew complacent, fat and happy… and he wasn’t ready when time finally claimed its due.

“If I’m not real, why are you talking to me?”

Why indeed? Wallowing in pity from ghosts of the past would do nothing to change his fate. Gruffydd forced himself to stand on shaky feet, commanding his body to move, to ignore the pain and to just keep moving. He didn’t spare a second glance for the apparition or the hallucination or whatever it was. He didn’t have time for the distraction. He took a heavy, awkward step towards the woods in the distance.

“Gruff?”

He hesitated, if just for a moment.

“Don’t die alone. It wouldn’t suit you.”

He wouldn’t die alone. That was the one thing he was sure of. How long did he have? One day, maybe two? There was no time to rest. If he hurried, he could still catch up to his target. And then… Then, they could die together. They could put an end to the whole wretched saga that started so many years ago.

The call of wolves in the distance pricked at his ears, but he wasn’t afraid. Mere wolves couldn’t stand in his way anymore. No force of nature could. With each step he found his pace quickening, momentum carrying him through the agony of the effort. Soon enough he was sprinting across the ground, sand quickly giving way to cracked earth, then the compacted dirt of the forest floor. He would do it. He would put an end to it all, and finally be able to face his family again. He only hoped they would be able to forgive him his tardiness.

There was no time to rest.

Writing Prompt #2351

"You need to rest."

"I'd need time for that, which I don't have. You're going to just have to accept that."

[the-lone-witch-and-secret-room]

So, i'm seeing people saying that Amity may sabotage Luz's attempts to get home, judging by the episode's title Yesterday's lie. What are your thoughts?

This post just about sums it up. Amity isn’t even mentioned in the episode synopsis, and it’s not like Luz is planning to leave for good. I feel like people are jumping the gun on that one.

I don’t think we should be taking the “yesterday” in that statement so literally. I don’t actually think it’s about what happened the day before (we don’t even have confirmation that Eclipse Lake takes place a day before this episode). It seems way more likely that it’s just referring to something that just in general happened in the past. On that note, keep in mind, they have to keep the titles in line with the message that the episodes spell out. There’s only so many words that begin with Y and would make sense in this context.

(Also nobody would title an episode “that lie from three months ago”, lol)

And consider: we’ve had episode titles that were intentionally misleading before. “The Intruder” was meant to trick the viewers into thinking someone actually broke into the house, rather than the monster being cursed Eda.

Rather than Amity lying to Luz, there’s a way more obvious ongoing lie related to Luz in the show that I’m pretty sure this is referring to. It’s how she’s been lying to her mom about what she’s up to. Since Camila is in the trailers for the season 1A promo, I feel like the episode is about Camila finding out the truth/Luz being forced to come clean to her once she’s stepped back through the portal into her world. That’s what Luz isn’t sure she’s ready for.

Also I feel like the whole “Amity tries to prevent Luz from going home”-idea is kind of stupid to begin with? Amity was in love with Luz before the portal blew up. We didn’t see her attempting to destroy the portal back then.

Like guys this girl is fourteen, not some manipulative evil mastermind??? I like angst as much as the next person but like… that’s taking it a bit far. Amity attempting to force Luz to stay in the Boiling Isles would cause a major falling out, and not one they could just bounce back from. We’re likely only getting this one season and then three 40 minute specials. That’s not enough time to cover Luz and Amity trying to repair their relationship after a mess like this and everything else that’s been set up to happen.

There’s also another reason why I don’t think this title is referring to Amity, and that’s how Amity in general has been portrayed so far. She’s been raised to think of love as something conditional. Something you need to earn and something you lose if you don’t do what that person wants—which is why she tries so hard to prove herself to her parents (something she’s now finally starting to break out of). She is used to putting other people’s wishes before her own when she seeks their approval.

Amity loves Luz. And I think more than anything, she wants Luz to be happy. She wants to be with her, but she’s not going to force Luz to stay if that’s not what Luz wishes to do. Amity has been forced to do a whole bunch of things throughout her life by people that supposedly love her, and I just can’t see her doing the same thing to Luz when she’s been through that kind of manipulation a million times over and knows exactly what it feels like.

If she manipulates Luz like that and Luz catches her, she’d also risk losing her for good, and Amity doesn’t take risks that big easily. She’s used to having to give 120% because even 110% aren’t enough for her parents, and if there’s the ghost of a chance she could fail, she doesn’t even try. Up until she meets Luz, she doesn’t do anything against her parents wishes, despite knowing how much the twins get away with, because there’s a chance that she wouldn’t get away with it. She’s afraid of rejection, and since there’s a chance Luz could say no to her, she doesn’t ask her out. She’s also lost the most important person in her life (Willow) through her own actions once before, and I just cannot see her risking that again.

Amity is starting to take more risks now, because Luz inspires her to, but she’s changing as a person way beyond “she’s willing to take more risks”.

Screwing other people over to get what she wants (which is very much something she probably internalized considering the household she grew up in) is something Amity would’ve done before she met Luz, before Luz inspired her to be better. She cut Willow off because her parents asked her to. She used to tattle on the twins all the time because she wanted her parents’ approval. She burned Willow’s photo so people wouldn’t find out they were friends, even if it meant hurting Willow in the progress.

She did everything she could so her parents would be proud of her, so they would love her, even if it meant hurting others.

And Luz slowly changed everything. Luz, who is reckless, and selfless, and always stands up for the people she cares about, even when it means putting herself in harm’s way in the progress. Luz, who helped Amity fix things with Willow. Luz and her current friends inspire Amity to be a better person. “They’re nice to each other. They listen to each other. They make me think about the kind of person I really want to be”, to directly quote Escaping Expulsion. And that person isn’t the kind of manipulator her parents are, who will stop at nothing to get what they want, even if people get hurt in the progress.

That person is selfless, and does the right thing, no matter what. She made her first step towards that in Understanding Willow, when she fixes her mistake and faces her past misdeeds in the progress, even if it’s hard, even if she doesn’t want to, because it’s the right thing to do. Because she owes it to Willow, and she owes her an apology. In Wing it like Witches, she follows through on her promise to stand up for Willow and breaks ties with her old friends, even if her parents will definitely hear of that. Even at the risk of painting a target on her back for Boscha, Skara and their friends. Heck, she puts herself in harm’s way in the literal sense to give Luz a chance to win the game.

And in Escaping Expulsion, she even risks angering her parents to help Luz and her friends. The parental approval that she’s worked for for so hard for so many years is at stake, and she chooses to do risk everything to do the right thing, to help her friends. She chooses the people who treat her right, who make her happy.

Her powerful speech would be meaningless if Amity would then turn around and sabotage Luz. It says a ton about how much Luz trusts Amity that she trusts Amity to get something portal-related for her in Eclipse Lake, and I just cannot see Amity betraying that trust. It’s possible that Amity struggles with the thought of Luz going home in that episode, but I cannot see her doing anything to sabotage something that’s this important to Luz. That would be a huge disservice to her character in my opinion.

Seeing that episode title and going “this means Amity is lying to Luz and sabotaging her for her own selfish desires” is to completely ignore all of Amity’s character development. Amity isn’t that person anymore. She’s trying really hard to be better. If she were to sabotage Luz’s attempts at going home, and choosing that over open communication, it would be a huge step back for her.

Honestly, it feels more likely that Amity ends up choosing to openly communicate her feelings, which would be a huge, huge thing for her. Maybe when they say their temporary goodbye she says something like “you better come back soon” and kisses Luz before she leaves (which would align with her allowing herself to take more risks if they’ll make her happy that we’ve seen a bunch of lately).

To circle back to the beginning, like I said, it’s very likely that Yesteday’s Lie focuses on Luz’s relationship with her mom, and Luz freaking out at the prospect of telling her everything. How much of a role her friends and Amity play in it is very up in the air, even if as mentioned I could see this scenario leading into a confession scene.

[yanderecandystore]

Black and Red take the advantage of Buddy being gone to flirt and drop hints about wanting to have another child with the s/o. Blacks wants to have the s/o be in a relationship now while Red wants to wait a bit more. Also I hope you feel better! Self care is best care :o - Cold Anon

Wow, I loved when I received both of your requests because like- Oh shit this fits so well!

If y'all don't mind, let's make this a complete Headcanon with both of your requests!

TW/Tags: NSFW // Forced relationship // dubcon (I don't condone this actions irl, so please read this with caution if the subject triggers/harms you in anyway) // Poly/Threesome (although it's only like half mentioned because I took way too long to write this lmao) // if you're confused on what is going on, you may want to check this [🧃] // delusional thinking and manipulation // non gender specific yandere boys and female reader just cause I'm kinda want to to make this one female just because- // swearing

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Thank God the walls are soundproof [Yandere!Among Us x F!Reader - Headcanon]:

Okay but let's first have a real talk, like- Imagine your alien dog just went missing out of nowhere, and then these hoes come in and say some shit about "family" and "mating" and all that jazz-

Bitch, my dog just ran away, control your horniness-

I think that they have been up to this point pretty much saying "we dig you, like a lot!" but also making it seem like it's nothing too serious?

Since they know you're unaware of their true feelings and intentions, it felt only right to give you some time and ease you in this relationship as quickly and smoothly as possible. Some flirting and constant compliments should have done the trick, yet you weren't really understanding what they meant with it.

You thought it was weird to see two people suddenly expressing so much affection to you despite the fact they were both married to each other and that you never felt like the type of person to attract people, so seeing two people to openly flirt with you made you think they were only joking around.

It could be their little thing, right? Flirting with other people in front of one another? Yeah, that could be it-

Of course you have assumed the possibility of them being polyamorous and are trying to call you to their family and form a triad, but then again, sounds kinda hard to believe, right? Two people wanting so badly to be with you? Sounds like something straight up out of a fantasy story.

Although, you couldn't lie that you kinda wish it to be true, since they were very pleasant to be around and well… You found them attractive and pretty charming in a weird way. Their romance with one another seemed so passionate and pure that you felt a little jealous and maybe craving a little bit of their attention.

I guess you tried your best to stay oblivious to their advantages either unconsciously or just defensively, as it can be quite shocking to receive so much attention out of nowhere from those two.

They always seemed so… I don't know, in their own little world….

After Buddy had disappeared, their presence had started to seem more stronger, it was so oddly coincidental how they started to act more friendly than ever towards you after Buddy disappeared.

You shouldn't be so suspicious of them, after all, it was only common sense that people would start to be friendlier and start comforting you after a tragedy.

Yet, you still doubted them, and right now you realize exactly why. Their weird attachment to you was starting to make a lot of sense.

It was the third time you had a breakdown after Buddy disappeared, and it's been the third time that they helped you by "comforting you out", even though you don't feel necessarily more comfortable by their constant caresses and odd words- they keep going on and on about how things will get better soon, that you'll be part of bigger family that promises to cherish you and never abandon you.

And although their words were strange and oddly soothing considering that you felt lonely due to your sweet boy running away, you still felt odd about their exact words and expressions that were thrown at you, but you disguised it as "being their awkward way of showing affection". Because it's a lot easier to lie to yourself than to admit that you were surrounded by possibly dangerous people, it was easier to believe that Buddy was going to come back anytime soon than to admit that the possibility of him already being dead was possible.

But sometimes reality will pull your hazy brain to observe the intriguing situation you found yourself in, since you were still a little hazed by the constant crying and the despair you felt for your best friend, it took you some to realize them both cuddling with you and placing small kisses here and there.

Either you had ignored/blocked out the feeling of invasive touches and phrases that were so off the rails, that even if they sugar coated their speech you would still feel threatened by it, or you were simply disassociating from this particular event.

Who would've guessed that being locked in your own room all day with only two people to talk with has started to make you crave their attention? You just felt like letting them touch you and say nice things despite how it felt…. Weird.

You started to feel guilty, to feel awkward whenever they praised you and touched you a little more roughly in more private areas. You felt good yet awful, you felt like this situation was wrong but it did feel right in some weird way.

You felt ashamed of their soft voices- Or more accurately, Red's soft voice and Black's deep breaths covering your skin with each kiss. They seemed to be on their own little worlds, just like you were a couple of seconds ago.

When you tried to free yourself and get up, Red took the opportunity to make you sit in their lap facing your back to them, they shushed you as you noticed Black felt a bit sad at your sudden reaction. You weren't expecting to be stopped from getting away from their hold which made you feel wary of the situation.

You've let them pamper you for too long, you've let them touch you and crave you for way too long. Black took the fact you were stuck on their partner's lap and decided to take a bite for themselves. A deep kiss that although heavenly sweet to them, it tasted bitter and provoked you to start wriggling against Red to get away from their hold. This was starting to be suffocating.

Yet nothing, they didn't let you, they chuckled at your struggles just like a person would chuckle at an infant playing around and trying to get their attention. Red whispered sweet nothings while Black seemed to be enjoying licking your skin, from your shoulder to your neck, it felt good yet somehow a little too… Good? There was something like desperation starting to appear in Black's breathing, their licks felt sloppy and the sounds coming from deep in their chest made your mind hazy, made your body crave more of this mix of rough and soft touches coming from them both.

Yet your mind told you otherwise, your conscious kept telling you about more important things that you should be worrying about. You felt like this was not exactly what you wanted at the moment, but your body was betraying your own thoughts as you felt yourself getting just as needy as them.

You still told Red you felt like this was happening too fast for your comfort, yet they only told you to relax and enjoy the view.

The "view" was Black getting more and more agitated, they seemed high out of their mind if not completely lost in their own instinct. Drooling like an animal, breathing like they have runned up a hill, and although there was only lust and admiration in their eyes, there was something in that frantic laugh that made you feel like there was something else in their hearts.

"- Black, we talked about this… Look at her, your scaring [Y/N], babe." Red said while pushing Black to back off a little, without putting too much pressure, just telling them to get back a little.

Black didn't take it personally yet still whined like a lost puppy. Black surprisingly hasn't said much considering the situation you were all in, you would at least hope for them to say something, yet they couldn't make any comprehensive sounds except for growling and heavy breathing.

"- Can you see it, [Y/N]? It's so adorable when they get like this, it's even better if you let them get impatient, not like you'll have to wait much, they're simply too easy to please, you know?" Red giggled into your ear as Black was grinding the bed like a desperate dog in heat, which still scared you a bit-

How hungry their eyes looked made you squirm and distance yourself from them, which led to Red holding you tighter since you were getting closer to them. It felt like it was normal for them, this sort of ritual, and you just seemed to get yourself involved in, not knowing how to respond to anything.

"- Uhn- R-Red- I…. I think we should go to sleep already-" You said, it was indeed very late, and you were starting to feel like not being part of this- Something was very, very off, your gut told you that much as you started feeling pretty nauseous.

"- So soon? Are you feeling nervous darling? I did tell a certain someone that they should have been more patient, yet they said they couldn't wait any longer-" Red said, mentioning Black who was flustered and angry at how their partner seemed to act so casually about their "condition".

"- But I don't think you need to worry your little head, after it we can go to sleep together, okay?" Red answered you while nuzzling your neck, now they noticed how much they were craving this moment, yet still not as much as their shape shifting partner.

"- No! I-I mean- Shouldn't you two sleep in your own rooms- I think the others would get suspicious of three people sleeping in the same bed." You managed to stutter out, yet you felt like your words had caused more harm than it should have.

Black growled in a more animalistic manner while also hitting their hands in the bed to try to take your attention, their expression was of anger mixed with disappointment.

Red just sighed and shook their head, they put their hand in your face and guided you to look at them, their tone sounded patronizing and disappointed.

"- It's that really what you're worried about? What other people think… This has nothing to do with anyone but us, love. So please try to focus on the now instead of how they'll react. And besides, we wouldn't want to miss this opportunity, now would we?" They said while kissing you just as passionately as Black did. Yet you didn't get what Red meant with that, so you obviously asked.

To which they didn't really respond, just hugged you again after slowly pulling away and saying:

"- Normally we have to wait up to six in six months to get their next heat, but apparently it came earlier than it should have! Isn't this beautiful darling? It's like all the stars have been perfectly aligned for us to be together." Red squeaked excitedly about the pattern of luck they've been having lately! First started with your dog disappearing, then it went to you being more comfortable with them around you, to you downright accepting being part of their family!-

The truth was actually rather bitter, you didn't really agree to any of these and you seemed to have tried to get out whenever you could, but both Red and Black took your lack of response as a sign of acceptance rather than anything else. Why else would you let them cuddle you three times in a roll, if not because of love? Why would you let them kiss you, if not because of love?

"- It's going to be so much fun adding two new members to the family, don't you think love?" Red spoke once again although not really towards you, but rather to their very attentive partner that was fuming with the idea of a new kid ever since their heat began about three days ago.

Thanks whatever cosmic entity to have granted them not only the privilege of holding you for so long during this time of need you were facing, but to also have gifted them this marvelous opportunity. Their species are fertile only periodically, it's not like they can do this any time they want, so to be in heat while your stupid bodyguard is missing it's a fucking miracle.

Yet I guess it would be really rude to mention that to you in person, after all you did love that mutt with all your heart, so-

Well, it's not like Black can express how desperately they want to pounce on you, they go through a thembofication when they're needy like this, besides- What good are words if they can simply let their moans filled the room and let it clear through actions how fucking long they have been craving this.

Your dog would have smelled them a lot sooner and tried to warn you about this, he could have prevented this but it seems like he ditched you, which is so unfair, none of them would ever leave you alone, but who cares about Buddy anymore, right? They're pretty sure that after you have a baby you'll forget him, because children and dogs are literally the same thing, ask Mini Red about it-

The fear that overcomes you when seeing them take off their disguise through your very eyes it's both heartbreaking and a little exciting. It's horrible for Black to see you screaming and trying to get out of the room despite the fact the door is locked tight and the walls being soundproof, were you really that disturbing that you couldn't handle?

Or maybe you realized who has been going around, ya know, eating people? And you thought you would be one too, which seemed to be the first time both of them understood what your worries were.

"- Oh no darling, don't worry okay! Shh- Everything it's fine- Look, we know this is sudden but it only felt right to show you the truth right now. You understand that right?"

Red tried to calm you down while simultaneously putting more fear in your heart.

"- Let me go! I-I- don't want anything to do with- With that thing! Or even you for that matter!" You spat venom at them while you squirmed in the mattress as Red was holding your arms and Black was holding your legs from kicking them.

So much hatred in only one sentence, truthfully, this wasn't going to go so well.

For you, that is.

You'll see that you love them, you see that this pity party you're throwing is absolutely ridiculous, weren't you kissing and whimpering at their touch five seconds ago? Honestly dear, hypocrisy doesn't look good on you.

But maybe you just need to relax a little, and let someone take care of you. Clearly the disappearance of "Whatever his name was" took you by surprise and made a big impact in your consciousness, but after proving you how much they have to offer, surely you'll understand their point of view.

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[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Leave a Light On

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield, Family!Rosie Holland x Family!Harry Holland (idk really how to do pairings because most characters have interactions with everyone)

-Warnings: Hospital scenes, sadness, blood, typos

-Words: 4.1K

-Key:

Y/M/N = your middle name

Y/L/N = your last name

Y/B/T = your blood type (if you don’t know you can pick a random one, there is O-/+, AB-/+, A+/-, and B-/+)

A/n: I have a too much fun writing the hospital scenes sorry. And before you at me for a second coma, it isn’t one. Some people just take longer to come out of general anesthesia.

Chapter 11: Leave a Light On

Words: 4K

“Oh my god, she still has a pulse” said one of EMTs in the copter.

“Tell the hospital to have as much Y/B/T on hand when we get there.”

“We got you, Mrs. Holland.”

Everything was a blur. You were taunted by your consciousness ebbing like the tide. One minute you were awake, the other not so much. Noises and smells seemed louder and stronger as your sight was stripped from you. A constant buzzing gave the hint of a helicopter, you were rescued. You wanted to give up at that moment. All your energy had dissipated over the hours of waiting. Giving up would make all the pain go away.

But at what cost? You wanted to see Parker’s and Rosie’s smiling face once more. You wanted to see Tom again. Tell him you loved him because you aren’t so sure he truly believed you the last time. You wanted all these things but it seemed you were meant for a different path.

One without pain, struggle and hurt. One that has only known of peace, bliss, and tranquility. One you ready to say goodbye to and the other hello.

Something beyond yourself was keeping in the position you were in. Struggling to bring oxygen to your lungs, bleeding out liter after liter from your side you were ready and needed to give up. Someone else wasn’t ready.

“Mrs. Holland can you hear me?” A doctor said, shining a light in your eyes to see if you were responsive.

“Mrs. Holland, we are going to take good care of you.”

“Oh, wow... she’s soaked entirely through her bandage. I need all the bags from the blood bank of Y/B/T you can find. She could die of exsanguination any moment.

“Tom,” you whispered.

“What was that? Did you hear that?” Asked the hospital staff, working above you. You reached up weakly, to pull your oxygen mask off for a second.

“Tell Tom I love him, please,” was all you could choke out before a terrifying but familiar sound filled the room. A monotone beep. You were coding.

“I need a crash cart in here. Charging to 200… clear,” called out the doctor. Your body jolted up with the force of 200 joules.

“Charging to 300… clear.”

“Charge to 400, CLEAR,” the doctor screamed.

“Charge to 450—.“

“Doctor we aren’t supposed to give that high of a shock,” informed one of the surgical interns.

“I don’t care, this woman needs to see her kids again… Clear,” The doctor said, delivering a final defibrillation. Your heart rate returned to normal, a steady pulse still weak but there.

“Doctor, she has a pneumothorax (collapsed lung) on her right lung,” said one of the medical personnel using the ultrasound. “Shit, we need to get her to the OR now. Let’s move. I’m not going to let her die on me.” The doctor explained.

A plane ride that was only supposed to be 2 hours and 15 minutes melded into what felt like days. No word from Harry or anyone had come about you and Tom. They all landed and took a car to the hospital. It was enough waiting by then, all they knew is that both of you were found. Neglecting to mention dead or alive.

“I’m here for Tom and Y/N Holland. They were airlifted in. Can we see them?” Nikki asked the person at the front desk.

“No hablo ingles, lo siento,” said the receptionist

“IS THERE ANYBODY HERE WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH?” Dom screamed. “Yes, I do. Did I hear you say you are here for Tom and Y/N Holland?” Asked a man clad in a white lab coat.

“Yes. He’s my son and she’s my daughter-in-law. These are their kids.” Nikki explained gesturing to Parker and Rosie.

“Well ma’am if you’ll follow me. I can tell you in private.” “No, whatever needs to be said, they can hear. They want to hear.” “Still follow me to a private waiting room please, your son is in there. Everyone can come,” the doctor concluded. “Alright then,” Nikki responded, following the doctor to a private waiting room.

“Harry.” Rosie said, seeing her favorite uncle.

“You made it, I’ve been waiting for you guys to hear an update.” Harry was so happy to see the rest of his family. “It’s bad, it was really bad,” Harry explained somberly. “Enough with the dilly dally, just tell me. Is my son dead?” Nikki couldn’t take the waiting anymore.

“They were both brought in barely conscious. Tom had lost some blood due to an open wound on his femur, he has a severe concussion, a few cracked ribs and a small knick on his kidney. He is currently in surgery, they are fixing his kidney. The most he will have is a few stitches but, we are very confident he’ll pull through,” explained the doctor.

“And my mom?” Rosie asked.

“Y/N is currently in surgery, she has protruding wound to the abdomen, a collapsed lung, broken ribs, and a severe concussion. She lost a lot of blood, almost dying of exsanguination. She is in surgery to treat her abdominal wound and her lung. Our biggest concern is sepsis, we are worried an infection caused by the elements will occur.”

“So she’ll be okay, right?” Parker questioned.

“She wasn’t conscious like Tom when they found her. In her case the amount of blood she lost might have stopped bringing oxygen to her brain. If she survives the surgery—“

“If?” Rosie gasped, starting to cry.

“Rosie, let him finish,” Parker snapped.

“If she survives, we don’t know when or if she will wake up. We can only hope for the best. I promise to come back with any further updates.”

“Thank you doctor,” said Nikki.

“I need some tea or coffee or a drink. Anyone else?” Sam said, Dom nodded in response.

“I’ll join you and dad,” Paddy said following Dom and Sam out of the room.

Parker was trying to keep everything inside. He actually appreciated the uncertainty of it all, the longer it went on the longer he didn’t have to hear a definitive answer, that you and Tom were dead.

Parker mainly tried to comfort Rosie but that position was filled once Haz and Henry got to the hospital. It was only 30 mins til another doctor approached them.

“Your son is out of surgery. He is resting in room 302, we are just waiting for him to come out of general anesthesia,” came in another doctor with news.

“Thank you. And my daughter-in-law?”

“She is still in surgery,” informed the doctor.

“Ok, thank you. I’m going to go check on Tom. Parker come with?” Nikki asked, she didn’t want to be alone seeing Tom lie in a hospital bed.

“Sure,” Parker said, following Nikki through the door.

“Harry, you’ll stay here with Rosie,” Nikki called out.

“How you doing, Roo?” Harry asked, moving towards Rosie’s side.

“My mom calls me that,” she said, unmoving towards Harry’s love.

Rosie was still like a statue. But her mind was very active, traveling from place to place. Just waiting for someone to update her on your condition.

“I know. She’ll pull through, Rosie.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Cause I know your mom. For as long as I can remember she has always been the strongest person in the room.” Harry comforted her, draping an arm over her shoulders. “Your dad is convinced she is indestructible. Sure, she has gotten hurt in the past but she has always bounced back. Hasn’t she?” Harry encouraged.

“Yeah, she has,” Rosie sniffled, wiping her nose with her sweater’s sleeve.

“After everything she has survived, she is still here,” Harry asserted. “When she and your dad first were dating, they’d like to scare each other. Tom must’ve pulled something like 20 guns on her. It was really funny to watch,” Harry grinned.

“Tell me more stories please,” Rosie perked up at the anecdotes.

“Well there was that time when your mom told your dad about being pregnant with both you and Parker.”

“I already know that one.”

“Ok, let me think… oh. One time we pulled a prank on her. All of us, me, your dad, Sam, Paddy and Haz. She was supposed to speak at this benefit promoting something… I want to say a disease… maybe climate change… who cares,” Harry began. “But she is better at it now but she used to be so scared of public speaking. That night at the gala, she had a panic attack and Tom went to comfort her backstage, while the boys and I all went into her purse and switched out her speech for the joke one we made.”

“She went on stage and broke in to a laughing fit. All her nerves dissipated as she stood up there, cracking jokes from left and right. It was really funny because she was so scared she would read whatever was written on the cards. She did end up making a fool out of herself, but it was funny nonetheless. She was so mad at us, she avoided Tom for a week,” Harry finished, reminiscing of that night.

“Wow, that’s mean. Like really mean,” Rosie remarked as his story came to an end.

“No it wasn’t. It was funny, she’ll laugh about it now if you ask her.”

“Was she as mad as she has been lately?” Rosie inquired.

“What do you mean?”

“Mom and dad have been fighting a lot… I’m scared they won’t be able to work it out. I’ve never seem them like this,” Rosie cried, fighting back a fit of sobs.

“Roo, those two? Are you kidding me? They will work it out, they always have.”

“But that isn’t a guarantee.”

“Rosie, your mom and dad have been written in the stars since the beginning. Nothing will ever break them apart. And almost dying really brings people back together. I wouldn’t worry Rosie, they’ll be ok,” Harry consoled her.

Rosie really needed to hear that. Something to get her mind off all the death and sickness that surrounded her. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She needed you to hold her once more.

“Mrs. Holland, Y/N is out of surgery now. If you’ll follow me I can take you to her room,” a doctor said to Nikki as she was stroking Tom’s hair, waiting for him to wake up.

“Oh thank god, thank you. Parker do you want to come?” Nikki asked.

“No, I think I’ll stay here with dad. In case he wakes up. I’m not ready to see her like that anyway,” Parker mumbled, needing every excuse to not walk into your room.

Nikki just nodded in response. Nikki was there when Rosie was in her coma and she knew you liked to talk to her as if she was there, so she did the same.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry this happened. The doctors have warned me that you might not wake up and I’m here to tell you that’s not an option. Your kids need you. Tom needs you…. He won’t be able to live without you. None of us will,” Nikki said, holding you hand. As soon as Rosie got word, she was already there. Standing in your doorway peering at your sunken body.

“Mom? It’s Rosie…. It’s your Roo,… why isn’t she waking up?” Rosie came barging in. She’d never seen you in a state like this.

“Mom? Mommy, please,” Rosie said, starting to shake you a bit.

“Rosie, come here,” Nikki said, pulling her into her arms. “She’ll be ok. All we have to do is wait.” Nikki concluded.

In Tom’s room, Parker was still there by his dad’s side. Everything had gotten massively screwed up. He was betraying his own dad and Tom didn’t even know.

“Parker?” Tom croaked out, slightly moving.

“Dad, I’m so glad you are okay,” Parker lunged to hug him.

“Me too, buddy,” Tom said, gritting his teeth to mask the pain.

“How’s mom?” Tom asked, praying you were still alive. It had been a rough night. Images of your half-dead body leaning against him for support plagued his memory.

“Umm… you should see for yourself.”

“What room is she in?” Tom asked, jumping out of bed.

“Dad, I don’t think it’s such a good idea you get up,” Parker exclaimed.

“Parker, don’t you dare stand in my way.”

“Mr. Holland, you’re awake — woah, you can’t get up. Your stitches could rip,” the nurse spoke with a thick Spanish accent.

“I don’t care. Let me see my wife,” Tom yelled.

“You may need to sedate him,” Parker said cheekily.

“Fuck that,” Tom cursed.

“You aren’t doing anything to me till I see her,” Tom asserted, the nurse just nodded in response and brought him a wheel chair.

Parker wheeled him through the hospital. He was about to face his fear as well as Tom. It both being the fact that you were dead and not longer living. They weren’t ready for that.

Tom came into your room and it was like a time machine. All those times he was walked into a room similar to this one with the white walls, white sheets, bright blinding lights and the machines that beep to no end. He was taken back to every time he had seen you lying in a hospital bed.

All the times he knew he hadn’t protected you. All the guilt and anguish came flooding back. Washing over him like a tsunami.

He walked in to see everyone gathered around you. Rosie was sitting on the left side of your bed, clutching your left hand and Henry was next to her keeping an arm around her shoulder. Tom didn’t care about them anymore, all that mattered was you.

“Dad, you’re awake!” Rosie cheered, as she saw Tom in the doorway.

“Yeah baby, I’m okay,” he said, holding Rosie close to his chest.

“I’m scared, dad. I’m scared she won’t wake up,” Rosie cried.

“I know. I am too.” Tom responded, his eyes still fixed to your lifeless figure.

“You know it was just a 5 weeks ago, you were lying a hospital bed just like mom. And she was holding on to your hand just like you are to her. And if you woke up from that, I can promise you she’ll wake up from this,” Tom encouraged.

“You really think so?” Rosie queried.

“I know so.… You know what your mom loves to tell me?”

“No. What?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“It sounds like her,” Rosie chucked to herself.

“Yeah, it does.” Tom did the same, he was the one keeping you here. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 17 years was nothing compared to lifetime he was destined to have with you. Nobody accounts for the times where something so drastic happens that it can change your entire timeline.

Nobody believes they will die tomorrow or get hit by a bus anywhere. People just live in day to day life thinking that they have a 100 years to go.

You’d think by now, he’d gotten used to seeing you in a hospital bed. Maybe grown accustomed to it. On the contrary, every time he’d see you like this he’d go weak at the knees and beg to switch places with you. To be the one lying there, on death’s door, not you

Every time he has made a promise, your life has been put on the line. You are constantly caught in the crossfires. Tom slowly remembered why he hated hospitals so much, especially when they were associated with you.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Nikki said, motioning for everyone to clear the room so it was just Tom and you.

“Hey, darling. I told you we’d make it. We had two choices either we died together or we made it together.” Tom began, trying not to cry.

“Y/N, I’m standing here and I’m okay. So it’s only a matter of time before I see you again. We promised it would be us together. Don’t you dare go back on that promise from ages ago, I’m supposed to go before you. Ok? It’s supposed to me. You promised me.”

“This one that you have to keep. I know it might be nearly impossible to, love. But there is no but or if, there is only you waking up and seeing me. Seeing your husband who loves you more than life itself. Seeing our two beautiful kids. I know I haven’t been your favorite person lately, so don’t do it for me. Do it for them, Parker and Rosie. They need you, more than they know.”

“Alright princess, it's only a matter of time. I’ll see you soon.” Tom finished, pressing a kiss to your forehead. One of longing, he just wanted to see your smiling face again. He let himself go completely, breaking down the flood gates. Tears started coming and they didn’t stop, they couldn’t.

Haz peered through the open door, to see Tom crying over you, he immediately jumped into best mate mode and went to comfort Tom.

“Hey. It’s ok. You can let it out,” Harrison said, pulling Tom into his arms.

“I was so awful to her Haz. I let her think I cheated on her so she wouldn’t be mad about Rosie and Henry,” Tom cried out.

“Why? What did you do? You know what, that’s not important right now. The point is she will pull through.”

“She could be dying and the last moment I can only remember with her is our fight. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“She’s not dying, Tom. Y/N has survived much more than this and promise you, you will say hello again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tom said, taking a line from your vernacular.

“Come on, let’s get some coffee… Here, hop on. I’ll push you,” Haz said, grabbing Tom’s wheelchair

“For fucks sake, you aren’t pushing me. I’m not some sick, crippled patient.” Tom exclaimed.

“Well… you did just get out of surgery.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going to let my helicopter crashing be the reason I can’t walk and I am looked at with pity.”

“Alright Tom, I believe we were going to get some coffee.”

“I don’t want to leave her alone,” Tom whispered.

“Rosie will be in here in a moment,” Haz explained.

“Ok.. Roo, can you go sit with your mom while I get your dad some coffee?” Haz asked. Tom still didn’t want to leave you but he knew you would want him to eat something.

“Yes, I’ll keep her safe.”

“I know you will, baby… Hold it. Hey Henry, can I talk to you?” Tom said, holding Henry back from entering the room.

“Dad,” Rosie said, sternly.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Tom said pulling Henry to the side.

“I’m sorry Tom.. um I mean Mr. Holland but I love your daughter more than anything,” Henry stammered.

“I just wanted to say thank you for being there for her when.. you know,” Tom admitted.

“Of course, I love her very much. And if the time every comes where I plan on marrying her I will ask for hands in marriage,” Henry promised.

“Woah kid, slow down. This is permission to date. No talking or even thinking about marriage, you understand. Also wear a fucking condom.”

“Yes, sir. Understood… Thanks Tom.”

“You’re a good kid, Henry. She’s in good hands,” Tom grinned, Henry just smiled and returned to Rosie. Returning to his rightful place, in her arms.

“Haz, did you bring me a change of clothes. I need to get out of this fucking gown,” Tom chuckled.

“Are you sure that’s a good ide—“ Haz started but was soon cut off.

“Eh, eh,” Tom interrupted giving him a harsh glare.

“You are not weak, I get it. Yeah, they are in my bag,” Haz concluded.

Tom said, “Thank you,” in return.

The waiting was back and it was killing Tom once again. This time he wasn’t waiting for both your impending deaths, just yours. It was eating him from the inside out.

You didn’t have enough time together. It wasn’t enough. Tom desired more, he needed more. All your favorite moments of you played through his head. Like he was watching a movie of his life with you, his love story.

One specifically, the day he proposed to you. It was hard to top his happiness that day.

All the days leading up to it he was distant and flighty. It worried it you greatly. Was he planning to break up with you? You were consumed with never-ending negative thoughts about your relationship.

It had been a while since you and Tom had a date night. He’d blown you off a few times to plan out the perfect proposal, afraid he’d let the question just slip out somehow. However, that was unknown to you so all you thought was, he’s an ass.

Tom was in his office, planning out how he was going to do it. What he would wear, where he would propose, what would he say. What would you say? He was nervous wreck.

“Haz, I can’t have anyone come in here ok?” Tom ordered. He must’ve practiced it 7 times. Getting down on one knee and declaring his love for you behind closed doors.

“Understood, Tom,” Haz said, giving him a cheeky grin as he closed his door. Not even 10 mins later, you came barging in through the front door. In a fury because Tom hadn’t returned any of your calls.

“Where is he?” You asked Haz. “Y/N?” He said, confused as to why you were here. Well, you did live there.

“Where’s Tom? I have to talk to him,” you asserted. “Why am I asking you? Of course, he is in his study,” you replied to your own question.

“NO, you can’t go in there,” Haz said, following you to Tom’s office.

“And why not?”

“He’s in a meeting.”

“What meeting would he have a 10:30 at night… Unless?” Your heart sank at the possibility of Tom not alone in there.

“Unless what?”

“He has a woman in there doesn’t he?”

“Umm.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go. You won’t see me around anymore. He chose her over me,” you said, trying not to cry. But you weren’t going to put up a fight.

“Y/N it’s not like that,” Haz called after you, trying to stop you from walking away.

“Then what is it Haz?”

“I can’t tell you?… Just go in there and see for yourself.”

“I don’t want see them.”

“Just do it,” Haz ordered, you eventually agreed. Opening the door to a very well-dressed Tom down on one knee holding a blue velvet box in his hands.

“People always spoke of soulmates and I didn’t believe them. But then I found you. And I had never been so happy to be proven wrong. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N you make me want to be a better man. You are my inspiration for everything. I can’t ever imagine living without you. Will you marry me?” Tom said, oblivious to you standing right there.

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

“No! No, no. You weren’t supposed to see that. Haz I told you to guard the door,” Tom yelled.

“Yes, Tommy. I’ll marry you”, you continued, hoping he’d hear you.

“God, it's ruined now. I’m so sorry. I had this huge plan take you to the London eye,” Tom apologized profusely, running his hands through the curls atop his head in frustration.

“Tom, you're not hearing me. I want to be your wife,” you exclaimed, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

“You do?” Tom surprised at your answer.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying. YES!” You screamed. Tom immediately grabbed you twirling you in the air and kissed you with all the love and passion you deserved. He had been neglecting you so he wouldn’t spoil it.

He put the ring on your finger. It looked as though it was home. You were his and he was yours. Nothing could top that moment.

Thinking about you and the time spent together. It made it that much harder to say goodbye.

Tom was brought out of his trance as you stirred, starting to wake. All heads and eyes turned towards you.

“Y/N. Honey, it’s ok. You were in a helicopter crash. You’re ok. You’re ok. I’m so happy to see you,” Tom whispered, tucking the hair out of your face.

The moment you came to, your eyes widened and a look of panic adorned your face. You were completely lost. Unaware of all your surroundings. You managed to croak out three words. Not an “I love you,” not words of love, quite the opposite.

“Who are you?”

A/n: Alright, Y/N lived. As I promised, there are 17 chapter in this series, 6 more to go. I will start writing the sequel series once all these chapters have been posted, even though I have it already planned out in my head lol. New chapters every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @dummiesshort @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

[earliebirb]

say your name like a prayer

steve/tony, au: mob, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 3005 words

From behind him, Steve hears the sound of the door opening and closing. 

He dog-ears a page from the book he was reading to mark his spot, but otherwise doesn’t bother getting up from his chair or turning around to look. There are only three people in the world that can enter a room with Steve Rogers inside without knocking and leave unscathed.

At the moment, one of them is already inside the room with him. The remaining two are the only people that can make it through the twenty-five men Steve has stationed throughout the hospital floor, the only two people on the clearance list approved by him.

Three people, if one were to count Helen Cho, the doctor Steve has personally handpicked to oversee everything. 

After all, Steve wouldn’t leave Tony’s care in the hands of just anybody. Helen is unfalteringly loyal to him—has been, ever since Steve took her under his wing ten years ago and paid off her family’s debts. 

Only a select number of people are aware of her true loyalties, of course.

The rest of the hospital staff won’t be able to make it through his men without thorough searching and his explicit permission, barring any medical emergencies.

Stationing his men throughout the floor wasn’t difficult to set up, considering the fact that his men have infiltrated various institutions, his network stretching over almost every single industry imaginable, including the medical field. 

“I brought you the extra blankets you asked for.”

“Leave them on the armchair by the door,” Steve orders, eyes fixated on the motion of his own thumb, moving in repeated one-way strokes across the ridges of Tony’s knuckles.

He hears some quiet shuffling, but when he doesn’t hear the sound of the door being opened and closed, he asks, “And why aren’t you leaving?”

Thumb not once faltering in its methodical stroking, Steve’s eyes travel up Tony’s wrist. His gaze lingers on the ugly mottles of black and blue forming a loosely connected ring around its circumference. Both of Tony’s wrists had been tied behind his back, rope pulled tight with enough force to bruise. 

“Boss— Steve. People are starting to talk. It’s been some time since you attended a meeting. They think you’re… unwell. I’m afraid further absence will cause something bigger than just flimsy rumors. I think it’s time that—”

His thumb stills.

“Get out,” he says, and to people who are not familiar with him, his voice is low enough to be mistaken as a request.

Bucky knows better, though. Should know better.

Steve is not asking.

“Steve—” Bucky tries anyway, and Steve clenches his jaw.

“Barnes,” he barks out.

Steve hears his right hand man immediately go quiet at the invocation of his last name, the very usage of it a scalding reprehension that kills any argument he might have thought to bring forward.

“I’ve made it very clear that in my absence you are to act as my proxy, have I not?” Steve asks, speech measured. 

“Yes, Boss.”

“Then that’s all you need to worry about.” Steve goes quiet after that, letting his answer sink in. The pregnant silence stretches out for a few moments, the air between them growing almost suffocating with tension. “Now, if you don’t have anything actually important to talk about, leave.”

Steve stares at the frail figure lying on the hospital bed, looking even smaller than usual in a loose-fitting hospital gown. Tony’s pallid complexion and state of restful sleep are even more jarring when juxtaposed with his usual lively demeanor—full of vigor and always ready with a witty remark. His right eye is a dark blue and purple mess, swollen shut. Sutures hold together a cut on the left corner of his upper lip.

This is everything he never wanted. His biggest fear materializing right before his own two eyes.

This is exactly what Steve had warned Tony of. Once Tony was in, he was in for the long haul. There was no going back from this, no ordinary life to return to once he was well and truly involved with Steve.

When Steve had voiced his concerns, Tony kissed him in lieu of a reply. 

Because Steve had always been weak and selfish when it came to Tony, he decided to keep him. He decided right there and then, that if he didn’t have the strength to turn Tony away, then he would pour his everything into protecting Tony instead. 

Clearly, his everything wasn’t enough. Maybe it would never be enough. Perhaps, in some ways, this outcome has always been inevitable. 

That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t make Steve’s blood boil and his bile threaten to rise up to his throat.  

Heart twisting with worry, he closes his eyes. He inhales and holds his breath, trying his best to focus on the slow and steady beeping of the EKG machine in the background, like the room’s own heartbeat. 

A grounding reminder that Tony is still alive and breathing. That he is safe now, right in front of Steve, within arm’s reach.

“You’re disturbing his rest,” Steve says, clipped tone brooking no further argument. 

It takes a minute, but eventually Bucky does leave. 

Steve gets up to gather the blankets on the armchair. He covers Tony’s body with one of the blankets, providing an extra layer of warmth on top of the sheets already covering him, making sure to leave Tony’s arms resting on top of the layers. He wraps another blanket around Tony’s bare feet, hoping it would keep them warm. He knows how much Tony hates having cold feet. 

“Sorry for the intrusion, sweetheart.” He leans down to press a kiss to Tony’s bandaged forehead, careful and tender. Sitting down in his chair, he opens the paperback copy of 1984 to the previously dog-eared page. He keeps the book open with one hand while the other takes hold of Tony’s, squeezing it to feel what little warmth is left to comfort him. 

“Now, where were we?”

***

Sixteen days since he was admitted into the hospital, Tony wakes up.

He comes to gradually, eyes opening and closing periodically. The first time Steve catches Tony opening his eyes, he struggles to breathe through the wave of sheer relief and calls out Tony’s name with his heart in his throat. Tony gives him no reply, blinks once, twice, and drifts back into sleep. 

Tony continues to slip in and out of consciousness for what seems like eternity.

Throughout it all, Steve never lets go of his hand.

Hours later, Tony lets out his first coherent word in over two weeks:

“Steve?” Tony’s voice is more breath than sound.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, a tight knot loosening in his chest. He squeezes Tony’s hand reassuringly. 

Tony blinks wordlessly at Steve, looking like he is trying to map Steve’s features with his eyes. The bandage around his head has been removed a few days prior, allowing Steve to brush his hair away from his forehead with the knuckles of his fingers.

At this, Tony swallows. He blinks once more, slow and languid, before closing his eyes with a weary sigh and falling back asleep. 

The next time Tony regains consciousness, he spends some time looking his fill of Steve before registering his surroundings, eyes darting around the room.

“Where?” he croaks.

“Hospital,” Steve answers. Tony takes in the answer quietly.

“Steve,” Tony says. “I’m tired.” 

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” Steve lifts Tony’s hand, holding it against his own face. The warmth of Tony’s calloused palm seeps into Steve’s cheek, solid and comforting.

The lines of Tony’s face soften almost imperceptibly, brown eyes gazing at him softly.

“Steve,” he breathes, eyelids growing heavy.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t leave.”

Steve swallows around a lump in his throat and turns to press a long kiss to the center of Tony’s palm.

“I won’t, sweetheart. I’ll stay right here,” he promises. 

Sometime during the long hours of his continuous effort to remain vigilant, Steve’s exhaustion catches up to him and without meaning to, he falls asleep.

***

At first, Steve thinks he is still dreaming in his sleep. He had fallen asleep with his cheek against the sheets, hand holding Tony’s. The next thing he registers in his slow drift back to consciousness is the feeling of fingers carding through his hair repeatedly. He squeezes his eyes shut, determined to stay asleep.

Then he feels the same fingers wander down to his unkempt beard and he hears an amused huff of breath.

The pad of a thumb presses the corner of his mouth gently. “I know you’re awake.”

Steve stills. Ever so slowly, he lets his eyes flutter open. It takes him a while to convince himself that Tony is indeed wide awake and that the fingers on his face are very much warm and real.

When he straightens up in his seat, his back muscles protest after having been bent at an unnatural angle for the past few hours in his slumber.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty.” Tony’s soft smile greets him, eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve stares at him with wide, unblinking eyes and finds it impossible to return his smile. 

“You’re awake,” he says instead, voice gravelly with the last remnants of sleep. Tony looks significantly better, like life has flooded back into him. Absently, Steve notes the new presence of a glass of water on the hospital nightstand, a straw sitting in it.

“Since around two hours ago. Helen even came by to check up on me.”

Steve bristles. “Why didn’t—”

“Shhh. It’s okay.” Tony’s fingers curl around his wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze and killing Steve’s anger before it has a chance to rise. “I told her not to wake you.”

“You look dead on your feet, Steven,” Tony says. Steve’s chest grows tight at the familiar way in which Tony says his full given name, a soft and fond cadence to his voice that turns the word into a personal form of endearment.

Tony’s brown eyes are fraught with worry. It’s all ridiculously outrageous but so painfully Tony. He has only been awake for a few hours and already treating his own condition with well-practiced flippancy, worrying about Steve like Steve is the one who just woke up from a two-week-long coma.

Steve’s mouth twists. He swallows audibly, eyebrows furrowing in an effort to stave off the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He directs his blurry gaze down at the hospital bed, upset and ashamed.

Tony’s fingers slide over his fist, which Steve has just realized is clenched tight around a handful of bed sheets, knuckles turning white.

“I’m here, my darling. I’m right here. I’m okay.” 

Unable to hold back for another second, Steve stands up and gathers Tony in his arms carefully, mindful of his injuries. He lets out a long and relieved breath before pressing kisses to the crown of his head. Tony buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck and inhales deeply.

“You stay. You stay right here,” Steve chokes, voice splintering.

“Not going anywhere,” Tony murmurs, pressing a kiss to the column of Steve’s throat. He slips his hands under Steve’s shirt, fingers gliding across his ribs, inches away from where he knows the initials of his own name are tattooed vertically down Steve’s breastbone. 

“Is it just me or did you lose weight? Have you been eating properly? And don’t even try lying to me ‘cause you know I can totally ask Bucky or Sam and they’ll tell me the truth, Rogers.”

Steve’s hand slides up to cradle the back of Tony’s head. Tony is warm, he is so much warmer now. Tony is okay. He presses another grateful kiss into Tony’s hair, eyes shut in silent prayer to whatever deity is kind enough to deliver Tony back to him.

“I’m never letting you go anywhere without my men ever again,” Steve whispers. 

Tony huffs, leaning back to look up at Steve and trusting Steve’s hand to take the weight of his head. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m right here, with you. Besides, no one saw it coming, okay? It’s not—”

Tony breaks off abruptly with a soft grunt, hand reaching up in an aborted motion to touch his own head. Steve pulls back in alarm.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Steve hears his own voice turning even more hushed, panic wrapping tight like a vice around his vocal chords. “Do I need to call Helen? Hold on, I’ll—”

Tony catches his arm before he can press the button to alert the hospital staff, bringing it down. 

“Does it hurt, Tony? Tell me the truth.”

Tony shakes his head, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Tony breathes. He leans forward to rest his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. Steve hears him inhaling deeply before letting the air leave his lungs in one long and tremulous sigh.

“Let me get Helen just in case—”

“I’m fine,” Tony says breathlessly, pulling back with his eyes still closed, “just let me catch my breath.”

“Okay. Okay. Get some rest.” Steve plants one last kiss to his temple before sitting back down in his chair, hand holding Tony’s. “If anything hurts, tell me.”

Tony nods and continues to focus on taking deep, long breaths, sinking back into his pillow. Eventually, he swallows, eyelids fluttering open again. He lets his head loll slightly off to the side on the pillow, eyes roving over Steve’s face.

“I suppose I shouldn’t ask what happened to the people that took me?”

For a split second, something cold and hard lodges itself in the pit of Steve’s stomach and his grip on Tony’s hand tightens ever so slightly. He concentrates on the sight of Tony’s kind, brown eyes trained on him and the cold subsides, warmth trickling back in. He brings Tony’s hand up to his mouth.

“Yeah,” he whispers, lips brushing Tony’s knuckles, “you probably shouldn’t.”

He doesn’t say what Tony already knows—that he would give Tony every single detail of what he has done to them without even a moment’s hesitation if Tony really did want to know. Steve will tell him anything and everything he wants to know, because he keeps no secrets from Tony. 

Tony studies him for a long moment. Steve is unable to make out the thoughts running through Tony’s head, but his eyes stay warm and kind as they gaze at Steve through the companionable silence. When Tony pulls his hand away from Steve’s grip, it is to tuck a lock of Steve’s long and overgrown blond hair behind his ear.

Something shifts in his honey-brown eyes, like a puzzle piece sliding into place, and his hand cups Steve’s cheek, palm pressing against the bristles of Steve’s beard.

“Climb into bed,” Tony says. “You need to rest and I need to be held.” 

Steve ends up holding Tony close as he sleeps, arm secure around his waist. Contentment washes over him as he indulges in the warmth of Tony’s back pressed up against his chest. He takes his time in trailing light kisses from the back of Tony’s ear down to his nape, ending with a reverent kiss to the eagle tattooed on the back of Tony’s neck—a well-known insignia bestowed only to the inner circle members of Steve’s organization.

Tony’s tattoo has a distinctive characteristic that distinguishes itself from the eagle tattoos given to the other members. Whereas the eagle tattoos decorating the necks of the other inner circle members are simply black in color, the wings of Tony’s eagle have red and gold feathers interspersed with the black. It was an idea proposed by their resident tattoo artist, Clint, intended as an extra measure of protection.

Most people in Brooklyn and the surrounding boroughs know to look out for the eagle insignia, because it is in their best interests to avoid an altercation with one of the Captain’s inner circle people. 

People also know, however, to look out for the eagle with red and gold feathers in particular, because finding someone with that symbol tattooed on the back of their neck means you are dealing with the Tony Stark, and messing with Tony Stark is a guaranteed death sentence.

Everyone knows you don’t touch the Captain’s beloved. 

Still, Steve thinks grimly, some idiots try.

Sam and Bucky had offered to finish them off for Steve, but as far as Steve is concerned, people who don’t possess the common sense to not lay a finger on Tony don’t deserve the mercy of a swift death.

Steve knew that he needed to deal with them himself, for his own peace of mind. 

So, he had brought out the toolbox—the one he usually only brings out for special occasions—and spent a few gratifying hours in a secluded warehouse with the two men who had orchestrated Tony’s abduction. From pliers to knives of varying sizes, he took his time to find out which ones worked best, which tools were the most effective in eliciting screams from the men. With his own two hands, he made sure that they paid for their sins.

Maybe he shouldn’t, but he finds comfort in the thought of those dismembered corpses sinking down to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

In his line of work, Steve has cultivated a moral compass of his own. He has always marched to the beat of his own drum, other people be damned.

He is definitely not going to start developing scruples now, and especially not for protecting the one thing that he can’t live without—the only person on earth whose thoughts and well-being he puts before himself, before everything else.

With his power and status, there are no guarantees in the life he leads. Loyalties are fickle and ever-changing. Rules are bent and broken. Lives are lost on a near daily basis. 

Well, no guarantees but one: Tony Stark will always come first. No matter what, no matter who, no matter when. 

Always.

Even if Steve had to burn down the entire world to keep him safe and sound.

[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 24: Fragments (originally published on August 23, 2021)

AN: The end of the Alternate Future begins here! Or this story at least, I've got a few follow-ups planned after finishing this one, one of which I might set up here. But regardless, here we are at the end of Part 3 and from here on out, things will go downhill for our heroes & uphill for our villains. Can Steven be saved from both himself and Black Rutile? Who knows? Except for me that is, and a very select few as well. But I've had enough keeping you in suspense, let's get straight to the action.

Synopsis: Steven's condition gets worse and he seeks help from Jasper.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Estelle as Garnet

Michaela Dietz as Amethyst

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl

Kimberly Brooks as Jasper

Noël Wells as Black Rutile

Lauren Ash as White Topaz

Della Saba as Aquamarine

Charlyne Yi as Eyeball

Tom Scharpling as Greg

Uzo Aduba as Bismuth

Dee Bradley Baker as Lion

Ron Perlman as ?

--

"Hear me my followers and rejoice!" Black Rutile declared, with Aquamarine perched on her shoulder, as she recorded herself making a grand speech to her remaining minions in her cave lair. "Our day of revengeance is at hand! No more shall that sanctimonious half-breed tyrant enforce his iron-fisted rule over our people! Because despite claiming to be a pure-hearted child, recent intel has confirmed he is far from it."

As an example, Black Rutile played the footage of Steven crashing his father's van that her satellite had gathered. "Look at this absolutely abhorrent act." She stated. "What kind of child would ever dare murder their father without any rhyme or reason?"

"Actually, there have been a few throughout this planet's history that have done just that." White Topaz leaned into view to point out.

"SHUT IT TOPAZ!" Black Rutile angrily commanded before turning back to her viewers. "Anyways, soon he will be exposed as the monster he truly is, and with the army we have regrown from the colonies some of my subordinates have retaken, we shall lay siege to the tyrannical Crystal Gems and strike them at our weakest!"

"You sure about that my Rutile?" Black Rutile's Topaz bodyguard leaned back in, much to her master's anger. "'Cause I've gotten word from Cinnabar's faction that some of your former Black Pearls have formed, like, a little squadron to fight back against her."

"Can you not ruin my speech, you ignoramus?!" Black Rutile shoved her Topaz away. Just as she was about to make a grand conclusion to her speech, Black Rutile quickly declared "End transmission." and shut off the recording. "Now look what you did, I was making a motivational speech to my allies, but you had to keep getting in the way just like you always do!"

"Always?" White Topaz replied while making shadow puppets against the cave wall. "Look, I may spoil your plans some of the time, but your ego is just as much to blame the rest of the time."

"That is indeed true Topaz, but now I must ask," Black Rutile said. "what is with this attitude? Where's the overly polite idiot that always followed my orders without question, no matter how horrible they are?"

"I'm betting she's already having second thoughts about your plans." Aquamarine advised her superior.

"You mind if I," Eyeball suggested before making a slashing noise with her mouth and pulling her chisel from her gem. "put her to rest?"

"I'm being serious you guys!" White Topaz said. "The three of you may think you're Gems of the people, but I don't think Gems like those would ever hyperfocus on ruining the life of one person instead of just focusing on something healthier!"

"Like what, forcing ourselves to join those ingrates and deprive ourselves of our way of life in favor of becoming part of a hive-mind?" Black Rutile asked, menacingly pulling out her bowie knife to threaten her Topaz with. "I have been plotting against the Crystal Gems ever since Steven brainwashed the Diamonds, and I refuse to abandon those plans just because you don't like them! Now, are you going to be a good little bodyguard, or do you want to ditch your best friend in favor of the hypocrite?"

Although White Topaz showed tons of reluctance, she nervously got down on one knee and bowed her head to her three teammates. "No, my Rutile. I am at your beck and call, whenever you need me."

"Very good my Topaz." Black Rutile put away her knife to pat White Topaz on the head with an evil smile, before turning away to tap at her visor. "Now if we have nothing else to discuss, it seems the seeds of doubt I have planted in Steven's mind that fateful night have finally begun to grow." She stated before her visor created a holographic chessboard with pieces resembling herself & her minions on one side, and the Crystal Gems & the Diamonds on the other. "Now all we need is just one last push." On that last word, Black Rutile then spawned a chess piece resembling Jasper that she put squarely in the middle of the board.

--

Far from Black Rutile's lair in the woods, Steven and Greg had finally returned home to Beach City after a father-son outing that turned rather disastrous. Fortunately, the Crystal Gems were already home to be told of what happened and as Steven gazed out over the deck, Bismuth asked Greg what happened.

"So Steven just flew off the handle because of a song?" Bismuth asked while helping Greg put his van back together. "Frankly, I could think of weirder reasons to get angry."

"No, it wasn't because of the song." Greg admitted to the blacksmith. "It was because we drove off to my childhood home in Keystone and he learned that my upbringing wasn't too different from his mom's."

"I don't think you ever told anyone about when you were a kid." Bismuth replied.

"Not that I wanted to until now." Greg stated. "But after that crash, I don't think I ever want to bring them up again. Steven started ranting about how he wished the Gems never found Earth and he had a normal human life like I had."

"Whoa whoa whoa, where did all this come from?!" Bismuth yelled in alarm, raising her hands towards the former rock star.

"That's what I said!" Greg exclaimed before turning to his despondent son. "And now that I think about it, maybe he had good reason for those wishes after all he's been through."

Steven looked down in utter shame and regret before he walked back inside the beach house, clearly avoiding a chance to speak with his father about the incident.

--

As soon as Steven got inside, the other Crystal Gems were there to greet him, but the looks on their faces told Steven things weren't going to be good.

"Sit down on the couch Steven, we need to talk." Pearl commanded the son of her deceased lover, who did as he was told before Pearl began pacing around. "I just can't believe you, Steven! Crashing the van with Greg inside?! You know how fragile humans are, young man! These pink outbursts need to be dealt with!"

"It's not an outburst!" Steven yelled, briefly inflating himself as he turned pink.

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about!" Pearl exclaimed before Steven got back up and started walking away. "What is happening to you?!"

"It's nothing, just puberty, honest!" Steven cried as he struggled to keep his pink form at bay.

"Whoa no little dude, I've seen enough sitcoms to know that is not what puberty is like!" Amethyst declared. "Right, Garnet?"

"I can confirm, this is not regular puberty." Garnet nodded before Steven put up a literal wall between him and his guardians.

"Steven, drop the wall this instant!" Pearl ordered as she pressed against the pink, hexagonal dome.

"I'm sorry Pearl!" Steven gasped in apology before the wall disappeared. "I just need some space, okay? I'll be in my room." But as Steven walked upstairs, Amethyst rushed to keep him from going any further.

"Not so fast, my dude!" Amethyst declared. "You gotta tell us what's going on!"

"It seems like Steven wants to avoid a serious discussion altogether." Garnet analyzed.

"No, I'M NOT!" Steven yelled, dropping to his knees and pounding his fist on the stairs, creating a shockwave that shook the entire room.

"Steven, either you talk to us about what's going on, or you're grounded until you're able to explain." Garnet firmly declared.

"She's right man, you gotta chill!" Amethyst exclaimed.

"We need to do something about this before anyone else gets hurt!" Pearl stated as Steven continued struggling where he stood.

"Don't let these strange powers control you." Garnet tried desperately to calm the half-Gem down. "You're better than this."

"LEAVE ME ALOOONE!" Steven finally roared, causing a pink shockwave to burst from his body and seemingly force the Gems to move in slow motion. Or rather, he was moving faster than everyone else. "I'm speeding up again!" he muttered while gazing at his equally pink hands. "I gotta get out of here!"

Steven ran out of the house and far away from the Crystal Gems. There was barely anywhere he could go right now. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl kept enabling these strange new powers, yet Peridot, Lapis, and Bismuth probably barely knew what to do about things. Thus, there was only one Gem left he knew could help him in his time of need.

--

"The Gems tried to help me, but they just kept making things worse." Steven explained to Jasper later that night while the two sat around a campfire in front of her cave. "And that's why I refuse to go back."

"So what you're saying is," Jasper answered before dramatically removing the cloak she was wearing. "you want a rematch?!"

"What?! No!" Steven exclaimed. "I just told you why I came here in the first place. I think my Diamond powers are coming out, and I have no idea how to control them. I just want to be alone so I can't hurt anyone or be super toxic and controlling."

"So, you finally admitted it, eh?" Jasper rolled her eyes as she got up and walked away. "If you want to be alone, your definition of it is horribly wrong!"

"But Jasper, this is the last place anyone would look for me!" Steven explained before running after Jasper. "Wait, don't leave me here!" he begged the bigger Gem. "This thing with my powers is the real problem."

"The only problem you have is your friends." Jasper declared, much to Steven's confusion. "Just like how you keep holding everyone back, they're doing the same to you!"

"Are you sure?" Steven asked. "I definitely believe I'm getting them all worried."

"That's because they're afraid of you." Jasper responded. "And not just of your powers, but your control over others. And you are too! You came out here to hide, but I'm not one to hide myself. I don't need to hide my power or try to stifle it, I let everything out by training!"

"Like this forest?" Steven wondered, looking around the patch of destroyed trees he and Jasper have stumbled upon.

"Exactly." Jasper answered, walking up to a tree and making it fall over with a single punch. "And to control that power, I have to use it. Those so-called friends of yours don't understand because they always want to make you feel bad for being yourself!"

"Yeah, I do feel bad." Steven muttered to himself, gazing at his fist before walking over to punch another tree, turning pink as he landed a blow that created massive cracks on the bark and wounded his hand.

"Yeah, crush that weakling tree!" Jasper cheered Steven on.

"No!" Steven exclaimed before kissing the tree to fix the damage he did.

"Are you kidding me?! That's disgusting!" Jasper gagged at the sight when she looked down to discover that Steven's kiss caused some grass to grow around them. "No, the grass!" she yelled and rapidly pulled out the grass beneath her. "Get out of here!" Jasper then angrily turned to Steven and picked him up by the collar of his jacket. "Quit helping this planet's ecosystem and show me! Show me your power!"

Jasper harshly threw Steven to the ground, causing him to groan in pain. "No way Jasper!" Steven coughed as he got up from the toss. "I can handle myself!"

"Shut up!" Jasper yelled and lunged at Steven, who turned pink on reflex and created a barrier to defend himself from the Quartz's ruthless attack, but it proved ineffective as Jasper punched straight through it, causing Steven to fall to the ground. "This is it; this is all you were worried about?! What a rip-off!"

As Steven helped himself off the dirt, Jasper just kept on yelling. "I am way stronger than everyone you hold back and are holding you back in return!" she bellowed while pointing at Steven. "Because I'm not afraid of this, and you shouldn't be either!"

In response, Steven turned pink again and created another shield to launch at his opponent. "Yeah, that's more like it!" Jasper declared eagerly and prepared to defend herself, smashing the shield with just her arm. "Now tell me, was it good to let your anger out that way?"

"Y-yeah." Steven realized how good it felt to vent his rage on someone who could be a match for him, allowing Jasper to let out a loud laugh. "If I stay here, will you teach me how to control all this?"

"I won't teach you until you fight me!" Jasper refused the offer.

"Well, I won't fight you unless you teach me!" Steven replied.

"Ugh, fine!" Jasper groaned in resignation.

"Really?!" Steven smiled as he returned to his normal color.

"Here's lesson number one," Jasper responded. "No smiling."

"But I've seen you smile." Steven pointed out the goofy smile Jasper wore when he agreed to fight her not too long ago.

"Lesson two, shut up!" Jasper yelled before she kicked Steven into the air, and the boy landed far from where she could see him with a thud.

"Guess my training starts now." Steven declared to himself before he heard footsteps behind him and turned around to find who was behind him. "YOU!"

"Training with Jasper, Steven?" Black Rutile snickered disdainfully. "Wow kid, you're not just one Spinel, you're an entire circus of them!"

"What do you want with me now Black Rutile?" Steven asked his new archenemy as Black Rutile's three minions appeared behind her.

"We just came here to talk." Aquamarine answered. "As much as we would love to kidnap you and hold you for ransom, or maybe even kill you right here and now, we think hanging with a brute like her is much more fitting."

"Besides, we all know you'll just drive her away like you did to everyone else." Eyeball laughed. "Or maybe even something worse!"

"Look, what we're trying to say is that you should just give up now and get the help you really need." White Topaz cautioned Steven, unaware of how angry she made her teammates. "We only want what's best for you, so you won't get in the way of my Rutile's plan!"

"Are you seriously trying to help our enemy here?" Black Rutile growled with eyelids lowered at White Topaz. "I thought you were at my beck and call whenever I needed you!"

"If you're trying to ruin my life again, it won't work." Steven firmly declared as he got up to face the four insurgent Gems. "I know what you really are, Black Rutile. You're no hero to Homeworld, you're just a callous bully who will do anything to get her way."

"GROW UP STEVEN, GROW UP!" Black Rutile abruptly yelled at Steven's face. "Sociopath, hypocrite! Refusing to save a dying pet because of the natural order when he refuses to accept everyone is leaving him! Who's the real villain between us two, my boy, hm?"

"Still you." Steven remained resolute against the Rutile.

"You can't even begin to comprehend my current plans." Black Rutile replied just as resolutely. "Soon, everyone on this accursed rock will see you for the monster you truly are."

"Hey, where are you?!" Jasper bellowed from afar, and Black Rutile saw this as her cue to leave.

"Wouldn't want to keep a certain someone waiting." Black Rutile smirked. "But at least the three of us agree the Crystal Gems are the real problem."

"Aw, but I wanna turn Jasper against Steven too!" Eyeball complained. "Plus it would be an honor to see her in person again. The real deal, not an Amethyst shapeshifting into her."

"Oh, shut up, and let's get out of here." Aquamarine slapped her Ruby partner and dragged her away by the hand.

"Hey, no hard feelings kid?" White Topaz asked Steven, causing Black Rutile to slap her mouth shut.

"We'll see each other again Steven." Black Rutile declared. "But until then, I'll be watching you, just like I've always had since our last fight."

As the four rogue Gems left, Steven was left alone with his thoughts once more. And with those thoughts, a certain voice in his head re-emerged. "You know, she does raise a few good points."

"You again!" Steven said to the voice. "What do you want now? Are you another Gem working for Black Rutile?!"

"Well, kind of." The voice answered. "I'm not directly working for her, but it's thanks to her that I'm even speaking to you now. Remember that night while the Gems were out in Los Diego? She helped me grow."

"I thought so." Steven muttered in a moment of clarity. "But please, just leave me alone!"

"Maybe I'll just sit back and watch while you worry your so-called friends sick." The voice laughed deeply. "Don't you worry, we'll be seeing each other again very soon."

With that foreboding goodbye, the voice once again vanished from Steven's thoughts. Was it true, was that voice even haunting Steven because of what Black Rutile said to him? Or could it perhaps be even older than that?

"Are you dead or something?!" Jasper yelled for Steven. "Come back over here if you aren't, we got training to do tomorrow!"

"I'm coming!" Steven cried and raced back to Jasper's cave. As soon as he got there, Jasper threw her cloak at his face. "What was that for?"

"Think you might need this." Jasper stated while peering out from her cave. "Humans need to sleep, right?"

"Aw, you really do care for me." Steven blushed at the seemingly kind gesture, but Jasper just scoffed and retreated into the darkness of her home. Steven then just shrugged and laid down on the ground with the cloak covering him like a blanket, gazing up at the stars and wondering how the Crystal Gems must be doing.

--

The next morning, the Crystal Gems were now searching across Beach City for the missing Steven. Pearl had placed posters all over town while Greg helped Lion and Amethyst sniff around for him, but so far they found nothing that would help them.

"Whoa, easy Amethyst!" Greg yelled as he tugged on the leash of a purple-furred Dalmatian with an amethyst gemstone on her chest, which then turned into an exhausted Amethyst.

"We're getting nowhere with this!" Amethyst complained. "I mean, I learned how he could slow down time through Smoky Quartz, and even I don't have a clue!"

"I hope we find him soon, I'm getting worried." Pearl whimpered before she found Garnet walking up to them. "Anything from Little Homeworld, Garnet?"

"Nothing, Peridot and Lapis told me they didn't see Steven recently." Garnet answered. "However, Zuli said she did see a pink blur zoom past yesterday."

"That's the same one I saw with Bismuth while we were fixing the van!" Greg declared. "Could that be Steven?"

"It probably is." Pearl said before she began to break down into tears and hug Greg tightly. "I miss my baby!"

"We all do Pearl." Greg sniffed and returned the hug, followed by Garnet, Amethyst, and Lion joining in to comfort the Pearl. "We all do."

However, little did the Gems know, Steven was perfectly fine. But not the kind of fine they want him to be.

--

Far off in the woods, Steven had fallen fast asleep underneath the blanket Jasper had lent him. But his rest wouldn't last long as Jasper emerged from her cave and smashed a wall, shocking him awake.

"Rise and shine, your training begins today!" Jasper barked as she walked up to the half-Gem boy and picked him up by the neck. "Now tell me, what are you here for again?"

"Uh, to get a better control of my powers?" Steven answered.

"Not enough energy." Jasper shook her head in disdain. "Why don't we start with the only way you can talk to people?" she suggested and then cleared her throat. "So you're here because of your mother, kid? Well, whoop-de-doo!" the big Quartz began singing while circling Steven. "You still haven't realized more have suffered than just you! If you wanna get tougher kid, here's a tip. I got three little words for you: get a grip!"

"Shouldn't that apply to you too?" Steven asked his new mentor.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Jasper growled while walking towards some boulders and picked one up.

"I mean, you're stuck here because of me." Steven continued, much to Jasper's anger. "Not to mention closets full of-"

"Do you want my help or not?!" Jasper roared.

"Yes ma'am!" Steven nervously complied before Jasper threw him a boulder.

"That's better." Jasper grinned smugly as she hoisted up more boulders on her back and walked away. "Follow me."

--

"You've been through a lot brat, but let me say something about that." Jasper began singing again as Steven followed her up the mountain with boulders in hand. "As a veteran, I've seen far messier, you should've seen the Clash at the Theater."

"I don't think I've heard of that before." Steven stated while setting the boulders down nearby.

"Doesn't matter, just giving an example." Jasper replied as she dropped her boulders too. "Now come on, throw me some shields!" Steven nodded before he turned pink and summoned multiple barriers to unleash on Jasper, who managed to break through all of them. "The fusion's all high and mighty. Amethyst can be pretty flighty. And the Pearl, wow, she's nuts, you see! They all got experience, but none like mine!"

--

"Maybe when you're done, you'll be feeling just fine." The next day, Steven continued training via splitting logs in half on a stump, while Jasper demonstrated her superior strength by knocking down a tree with just a push. In the meantime, Black Rutile whispered something into Jasper's ear without her knowing the Rutile was even there.

--

"If you wanna get tougher kid, here's a tip." As night began to fall, Jasper challenged Steven to a race, her spin-dash against his pink form's speed. "I got three little words for you: get a grip! Ya hear me!"

"Yeah, those three little words are 'Get a Grip!'" Steven joined in on the song as he began catching up to Jasper.

"Now we're talking!" Jasper cheered triumphantly.

--

"No time for healing!" As the training went on to the day after that, Steven had grown slightly taller and more muscular, and even began growing a beard as he threw another barrier at Jasper. "Who needs feeling?!"

--

"You're still reeling?" Steven caught a fish in the river with a more polygonal bubble that he cooked up to eat, while Black Rutile loomed behind him with another lie to tell him. "Well, my tips are quite appealing! Let's say it again!"

--

"If you wanna get tougher kid, here's a tip." Steven and Jasper harmonized while clashing fists in a forest clearing. "I got three little words for you: get a grip!"

"Yes, for everything to go as planned, get a grip." Black Rutile muttered while watching the two train with an evil smile, eager to see how far Steven has come and how far he'll fall.

--

The next day, thunder began rumbling far from Steven, who knelt in front of a campfire with a more muscular body that made him as tall as Jasper and a wildly different hairstyle.

"I found more rocks!" Jasper called out to her student while tossing over some more rocks for him to train with. "You won't believe how hard it is to find a good rock around here, especially since we broke most of them."

"I'm done with rocks Jasper." Steven declared while getting up to face Jasper. "I'm finally ready. For our rematch." He then put out the fire behind him with one stomp, showing the other Gem how serious he was.

"Took you long enough!" Jasper cackled as she cracked her knuckles and prepared for her long-awaited round 2. "Then come on, show me what you got!"

Steven responded by creating another hexagonal shield to launch at Jasper. However, Jasper jumped over the shield and attempted to punch Steven, but suddenly, she got punched instead. As Steven let out a gasp, Jasper summoned her horned crash helmet and slammed it into Steven's head, sending him tumbling backwards into the ground.

"What are you holding back for Steven?!" Jasper yelled while the resulting smoke began to clear. "You think you can't take it, that I'm just going to coddle you the whole way through, just like the Gems?! You still want to go back to them?"

"No!" Steven coughed from the smoke.

"You still afraid to be strong?!" Jasper continued taunting her foe. "Are you dull?! ARE YOU PITIFUL?!"

"I AM NOT!" Steven bellowed out loud, causing a shockwave that knocked Jasper back, and nearly shook a certain Rutile from a tree she was hiding in as he lunged at Jasper with fury in his eyes.

"Is that all?!" Jasper cackled arrogantly, forcing Steven to create more barriers to strike at her with, which finally landed a hit on Jasper and slammed her into a tree. "That's more like it!"

Steven let out a sadistic giggle before he lunged again, far faster than normal as he started repeatedly punching Jasper while the two soared through the forest and into the air.

"Come on, come on!" Jasper beckoned Steven as their brawl took to the skies. "Show your master what you can really do!"

Steven's maniacal laughter grew louder and louder with each punch before kicking Jasper to the ground. "You were right Jasper!" he declared while summoning more shields to trap Jasper with before forming an even larger one in front of him. "I HAVE BEEN HOLDING BACK!"

With a murderous smile and white diamonds in his eyes, Steven made his barrier grow razor-sharp spikes before launching it at his captive opponent. And for the first time in what felt like ages, as the spiked shield rocketed towards her, Jasper felt one emotion that she barely showed to anyone else.

Pure, unadulterated terror.

What had she done?

--

The cloudy skies gave way to a loud thunderstorm as Black Rutile climbed up to the top of another tree to watch the outcome of the fight, and she was more than happy with what she was seeing.

"Bravo Steven, I never knew you had it in you!" Black Rutile clapped loud enough for Steven to hear as he returned to his senses to realize what he had just done. "If I hadn't planned for that, she would've made a great bodyguard!"

With tears and raindrops staining his face, Steven hid whatever he was hiding in his balled-up fist while glaring at Black Rutile before he raced back to Jasper's cave. When Black Rutile decided to climb down the tree, she was greeted by the nervous look on her Topaz's face. "So, who were you betting on to win?"

"I was betting on Steven to curb his problems more healthily, and you just kept stringing him along!" White Topaz accused her superior, but her accusations were shut down by a bowie knife pointed straight at her face. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Would a shadow puppet make you feel better?!"

"No need." Black Rutile frowned, hiding behind the tree to watch as Steven, now wearing his jacket again, hid his fist in one of the pockets while running out of the woods. "Nothing makes me happier than seeing him squirm."

"Oh yeah, it's funny how pathetic he is." White Topaz laughed nervously in agreement. "Come on, let's head back to the cave. Don't wanna get wet."

"Indeed," Black Rutile agreed and strolled back to their lair with her arms behind her back. "wouldn't want anyone knowing what we did to him."

--

"I sent so many messages, but he hasn't replied!" Pearl fretted while pacing around the beach house as the storm continued. "Do you think he even had his phone when he ran away?! What if something horrible happened and it's all our fault because he wanted to stay away from us?! What if-" Pearl's panicking soon turned to hyperventilating as she curled up into a ball on the floor and began rocking back and forth when Amethyst stepped in to calm her down.

"Pearl, chill out!" Amethyst literally shook Pearl out of her traumatized state and picked her up off the floor. "Panting and sweating over everything won't bring Steven back! It's not like he's going to just barge in as soon as I finish talking!"

Just then, Steven finally returned home, much to the Crystal Gems' delight and worry. However, he had no time to tell them where he's been as he gunned for the bathroom.

"Steven, where have you been?!" Pearl cried out in fright for her surrogate son.

"No time to talk!" Steven exclaimed before ducking into the bathroom.

"Seriously man, we've been looking everywhere!" Amethyst added just as the door closed in front of her. "Hey, what was that in your hand?"

"Nothing important!" Steven replied, peeking out the door one last time before going back.

"The way he said that makes me get a bad feeling about this." Garnet declared ominously.

--

'This has been a horrible day.' Steven thought to himself while filling up the bathtub and snatching the three Diamond essence bottles from the mirror, taking a moment to find a dark shadow in the exact shape of his muscular self from earlier standing behind his reflection.

"I never knew you had it in you either." The shadow growled before Steven turned to dump all the Diamonds' essences in the bathwater and pulled his fist out of his pocket, unfolding it to reveal Jasper's shattered remains in his palms.

"Please work, you gotta work!" Steven muttered in total panic while piecing Jasper's broken gemstone the best he could and submerging it in the water. "Please Jasper, I'm sorry!" he began sobbing for the deceased Gem, his hot tears streaking against his face and dropping into the water.

"I'm sorry."

END OF PART 3: FRAGMENTED MIND

TO BE CONCLUDED IN PART 4: WE WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR FAMILY

--

Wow. Great googly moogly, it's all gone to shit, just the kind of shit that Black Rutile likes. Is Jasper truly gone? Okay, definitely not since next chapter after the break will be Homeworld Bound. Has Black Rutile won? Maybe. Will the voice in Steven's head take the wheel? Who knows? Find out on the epic final part of Steven Universe: Alternate Future, to perhaps begin after the usual two-month hiatus. Or maybe I should go for a shorter hiatus this time. Or maybe longer? What do you guys think? I mean, by the time I publish this, I'll be getting ready for sophomore year of college so my time will most definitely be filled up. But regardless, there are now only eight chapters left of laughs, tears and adrenaline rush, so don't even try to miss the next arc! Okay, peace!

[angelic-vinyls]

She’s Worried About You >> REACTION

Warning: This reaction mentions anxiety, depression, PTSD, and OCD. Please do not read if you are easily triggered.

Feel free to request!

Jisoo:

• She has always been very observant of the way you behave

• She knows your routines and how you like things done because she cares so much about you

• Jisoo also knew of your ongoing struggle with depression

• She's been used to seeing subtle signs of it, how sometimes you don't want to go out or sometimes you just want to be left alone

• She understood that and respected your boundaries

• But she really started to worry when you wouldn't leave your bed, not even to eat or use the bathroom

• At first she thought maybe you would feel better in a day or two but when it had been 5 days and you showed no sign of improvement she decided to intervene

• She came home one day with a bouquet of your favorite roses and an envelope filled with brochures for different therapists

• Jisoo kisses you tenderly before making direct eye contact

• "I love you more than anything in this world and I won't sit back and watch you be in pain. I've done my research and I've found the best therapists and psychiatrists in our area. I'm going to help you get better baby. I'll be here every step of the way.”

Jennie:

• You've had anxiety since you were young, and you were familiar with the fact that at certain points in your life, for whatever reason, it can be much worse than other times

• Jennie knew you had anxiety, but she didn't understand that it wasn't as black and white as it may seem

• That's why she was so worried when you started rejecting her offers to hang out

• Normally you would love to go get dinner and shop at Chanel with her but lately, it seemed that all you wanted was to stay at home

• Jennie confronted you about this, asking if she did something to upset you and why you seemingly didn't want to spend time with her

• She wasn't yelling at you by any means, she was speaking softly and concern was written all over her face

• Seeing her like that flipped a switch in you, and you collapsed into your girlfriends arms as you started sobbing about how anxious you were and how you were sorry

• Jennie simply hugged you tightly and kissed the top of your head while attempting to shush your cries

• "Angel I had no idea. You can always tell me if something's bothering you. I want to help you. You're going to get better and I'm going to help you. You're so strong my love, so, so strong."

Rosé:

• She knew that you had depression, but she wasn't aware of just how bad it could get at times

• You had always shown the world a bright, bubbly personality filled with love and ambition, but underneath that you felt broken, insecure, and scared

• Rosé was the best girlfriend you could've asked for, she was always looking out for you and making sure that you were doing okay

• She just loves you so much and wants to see you thrive and be happy, she wants to see you be the version of you that you show the world

• Lately you had been going through a rough time and have been feeling extremely depressed and Rosé, while she is your rock, knew that you needed professional help

• It had been a few days since she last saw you smile or laugh, and it was tearing her apart, she was determined to help you get better

• One day while you were lying on your bed, in your pajamas mindlessly scrolling through your phone, Rosé walked in and sat across from you

• She explained to you how concerned she was for your well being, telling you how much she loved you and missed seeing you laugh and smile and at least somewhat enjoying the world

• Rosie kissed you tenderly on the cheek, taking your hand in hers before staring into your eyes

• She told you that she had booked an appointment for you with the best therapist she could find and had asked about getting you some medication to help you cope

• As your girlfriend continued her long speech about how much she loved you and wanted to help you through this, you couldn't help but tear up at just how thankful you were that you had someone like her in your life

• You hugged her tightly, relishing in the warmth her body gave you and basking in the scent of her perfume, while you mumbled to her about how happy and grateful you were for her

• "You have no reason to thank me. I love you and want you to be happy again. I'll be with you throughout all of this, you're going to get better sweetheart."

Lisa:

• You've had anxiety pretty much your whole life, but up until a few days ago, you were perfectly functional, you were just anxious while doing things

• You had a really bad experience while you were out in public a few days ago, and ever since then you've been terrified to go anywhere

• While she doesn't have any personal experience with anxiety, Lisa tried her best to understand what you were going through and be there for you

• However, as your condition worsened Lisa found herself becoming increasingly concerned

• She would start to notice the little things your anxiety caused you to do, such as pacing around the room and taking deep breaths, even counting to a certain number to help yourself calm down

• Lisa comforted you through this hard time and tried to be a supportive girlfriend but when you started getting more anxious, she decided to bring in the help of an expert psychiatrist, who diagnosed you with anxiety, PTSD, and OCD

• He prescribed you medication, asked for you to see him twice a week and gave you a list of things you could do at home to help yourself get better

• As soon as you got home from the doctors office you wrapped your arms around Lisa's neck, bringing her into a tight hug

• Lisa hugged you back, smiling as she heard you thank her for helping you get better

• Once you pulled away she pecked your lips, arms still wrapped around your waist

• "Of course I'm going to help you get better. I love you so much baby. You're going to get through this. I'm right here with you, you're going to feel so much better."

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines Lights The Dark

Chapter 4: On My Mind

Fourteen hours and three days. That’s how long it had been since Penny went to the evening party, how long it had been since she had met Whitley, and how long the thought of him had made her feel odd. That night she went home told her dad about the events that unfolded at the evening party. Everything was fine until she got to the part where she saved Whitley then things got hazy. It was so strange she remembered everything clearly but when she tried to vocalize her thoughts on the boy she would start to stutter and her temperature would rise, turning her face red. At first she thought it was some sort of glitch in her speech and temperature gauge but her dad checked and said there was nothing was wrong and that her body was just reacting to her mind and her soul processing her emotions. Flustered is the word he used for the reaction, he said quote “It’s a perfectly normal reaction for a sweet young lady like you to have when meeting a handsome young man.” Though that answer did not resonate well with Penny for a few reasons. Firstly the reaction itself made very little sense to Penny as why would meeting an attractive person make another person behavior in such so oddly. Secondly Penny had already met plenty of young men in the military most of which were very handsome and she hadn’t reacted in this way at all. And lastly Whitley was not handsome, his features and overall demeanor aligned more with the definition of beautiful or pretty as they held a more elegant and delicate nature compared to the more rugged and brash nature of the word handsome. When asked the different the best way Penny could describe it was that he was less like someone you’d see in the training center but more like someone you’d see at a library sitting in an armchair next to a window, sunlight beaming down on him as he reads some complex text.

Penny: I wonder if he likes the classics or more modern literature. Historical fiction maybe? Is he the type of person who likes to have a snack or drink while he reads or would he not risk the chance of damaging the book? Though judging by the look and feel of his hands they are very nimble and steady so it’s very unlike he would spill anything. But maybe he’s the type of person that worries too much.

Penny continues to get lost in her thoughts, seated at the control panel for the training room. She was immersed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Winter entering the room nor did she notices Winter sneaking up from behind and get down to her level. Winter positions herself to be leaning right next to Penny’s ear. She taps her a few times first, when that fails to get her attention Winter decides to go with plan B.

Winter: penny…Oh Penny…..PENNY POLENDINA!

Penny: Eeep!

Penny squeaks in sear fright when she realizes it’s Winter she quickly turns around, jumps from her chair and salutes Winter.

Penny: Good afternoon Winter Schnee! How may I assist you today?

Winter: Well first you can stop your silly daydreaming and focus! Second you do your job and get the training room ready for my session-

“Ring” “Ring”

Winter’s scroll rings cut her. She takes the call, stepping out of the room into the hallway. After a minute and fifteen seconds she returns.

Winter: Call someone to take over your post. I need you to come with me for an errand.

Penny: Right now?

Winter: Yes.

Winter walks out with Penny trailing behind her. Penny quickly asks the nearest center staff member to take over the training room then dashes after Winter. They keep walking for a while until they reach a small building hidden behind the rest of the facilities. Penny know about this building, when she was restored one of the first things she was told was if there was ever an emergency and this building was in danger of being damaged or destroyed to protect she and any other soldiers in the area were to protect it with their lives. The second was that she could never enter without either General Ironwood’s or Winter’s presence and permission. Now why would one small building amongst so many military facilities have such strict rules? Because it housed something crucial to the safety of the entire nation and the world.

.

.

.

.

This morning had been an interesting one. After spending a few hours in conference with Ironwood, the details of they’re deal had finally been ironed out.. It was fairly simple agreement, the Schnee’s would provided support in the military’s investigation via invitations to formal events, etiquette lessons, and they even offered some financial assistance if necessary. In exchange Ironwood would back Jacques in his future political endeavors. Both would be sworn to complete secrecy on the matter for the sake of both parties public images. It was a simple exchange of resources a common practice in the business world however there was an additional clause in arrangement that had Whitley a bit on edge.

As they exit the reception room Jacques is preoccupied with his scroll while Whitley was pondering on what to do about the clause. It had added on in the last few minutes of the conference thus there was no time to debate or discussed it further then a yes or no. Knowing there was little to no chance of changing it outright Whitley decides to question Jacques on it to see if he could find some kind of trying and reason him into changing the conditions of this clause over time. He waits until they are far out of ear shot then speaks.

Whitley: Father?

Jacques: Yes, Whitley.

Whitley: I understand that we have to be cautious when dealing with the military but was it really necessary to add that last clause to the agreement?

Jacques: Of course it was necessary. I can’t just hand over my best tutors to those barbarians, they’d either be scared off by one of the mongrels he calls soldiers or return as his spies and I won’t stand for it! The lessons have to happen here, in the manor, that way I’ll know exactly what their little military hound is up to.

Whitley: Yes I do agree the change in location was but that’s not the problem. What I’m struggling with is the very last adjustment. The staff will be present and will be monitoring her every move while she’s in the manor so is changing her instructor really necessary?

Jacques stops in front of Whitley, he turns around, looks down at Whitley, and puts his hand on his shoulder.

Jacques: Whitley, this situation is nothing like any deals I’ve made before. This isn’t hosting an out of town guest for the evening nor is entertaining a group of businessmen. I am granting access to the manor to one of Ironwood’s soldiers for an undisclosed amount of time. If it were only going to be for a week I’d be less strict but possible months! Not a chance in Hell. And with that filth Klein betraying us I can’t chance give my trust to someone just to have them do the same. No, this task can only be handled by someone I know would NEVER betray me. Do you understand?

Jacques squeezes Whitley’s shoulder tight, the skin under his shirt and vest begins to redden as Jacques digs his nails into it. Whitley winces in pain but Jacques holds firm. He won’t let go until he gets the answer he’s expecting. Whitley takes a deep breath to compose himself before he finally speaks.

Whitley: Yes Father.

Jacques: Good, now since there’s nothing left to discuss, go to the library you have a business statistic lesson in thirty minutes.

Whitley: Yes Father.

Jacques pulls his scroll back out again and walks off without another word. While Whitley, holding his now bruised shoulder, starts heading towards the library and sighs. What a useless conversation, there was really no changing the situation all Whitley could do was prepare, the girl will be starting her lessons and he needed to be ready. Though it wasn’t like he really had anything to fear from her besides her physical strength and military training she had come off as a fairly awkward and meek girl with little to no social awareness. But still he could help this unnerving feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. Why did idea of her presence make him feel so uneasy?

“????:….I….want….I want to see her….I want to see her smile again.”

The memory of the unknown voice plays in Whitley’s mind. He still hadn’t figured out what caused the deviation of the dream nor what the voice was or where it came from. What he did know was that it wished for him to see that girl, Penny, again and regardless of his wishes, it looks like it was going to have its way.

Whitley: This isn’t what I was hoping for but there’s no going back now. I’ll just have to push through.

.

.

.

.

.

After several security checks and the removal of all their weapons Penny and Winter finally reach their destination, a kitchen with a door at the other end. Winter goes to speak the cook while Penny stands behind her confused by what’s happening. They had come to the most secured building in the entire center base just to go to the kitchen. When she done talking Winter goes back to Penny and points her towards a tea set, kettle, and stove.

Winter: Go brew some tea. She likes camomile , no cream, a teaspoon of sugar, a three drops off lemon juice.

Penny: Yes Ma’am

Winter turns around grabs a tray of food of the counter, and walks through the other door. Penny does as she was told and starts making tea. She had already learned how to sometime again before she had ever left the lab. She’d brew coffee and tea for her dad and Ciel during breaks, long nights, or when it got really cold out. Back then Penny couldn’t feel things like warmth or cold but hated to see them shivering or struggling to stay awake in the middle of the night so she’d make warm drinks, get them blankets, and clean up after them if they were too tired to do it themselves. Those times had made the act of brewing tea quite therapeutic and calming for Penny and since she gained the ability to enjoy the practice to its fullest she had only gotten better at it. But at times like this she was also reminded of her former attendant Ciel.

Penny: (Sighs) It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. Ever since that day.

Ciel had be like an older sister to Penny, wise, caring, and always there for the people around her. They’d been fairly close before they went to Beacon but after the tournament and Beacon’s fall Penny hasn’t seen her again, she asked for her a few times right after she was restored but she never came. Supposedly she was still working in robotics but was reassigned to mecha production and maintenance.

Penny: I would ask Dad where she is and how she’s doing but I don’t think she would want me to find her. Still I hope she’s doing well.

The whistle of the kettle pulls Penny out of her thoughts, the water was ready. Penny pours the hot water into the tea pot over the tea leaves in a circular motion. She lets it sit to set and cool a bit then pours the tea into the cup and adds the sugar and lemon. She puts everything on a tray and heads towards the door. As she gets closer Penny can feel cold air brush past her, she keeps going only to find the door has a layer of frost covering the edges. She pulls the door open to see what looks like a hospital room. There’s nothing particularly odd about the room aside from the many paintings that decorated the walls, the large window close to the ceiling, and the GROWING FROST AND DROPPING TEMPERATURE! The floor and a few feet of the walls have been covered layer of ice, Winter is standing by the bed where a frail elderly woman lays looking rather upset, the ice seems to emanating from her hands. Winter tries to get the women to cooperate with her but the woman just shakes her head as the temperature continues to drop.

Winter: Freya please stop being so stubborn, you need to eat now. It’s almost time for your medicine and you can’t it on an empty stomach.

Freya just shakes her head, unwilling to listen to Winter commands. This wasn’t too shocking as the elderly in Atlas were notorious for their attitudes. Anyone over the age of 50 was either the sweetest old person you’d ever met or the most stubborn and unruly. For the stubborn ones only the most patient of people could handle care for them. Luckily for them Penny was one of those people.

Penny continues to walk towards Freya, increasing her body’s temperature to keep the tea heated as she gets closer. Once she’s at Freya’s bedside she bends down to her level and gives her a warm smile.

Penny: Ms. Freya?

Penny stands over smiling silently as she waits for a response. Freya eventual turns her head towards her and groans. Still smiling Penny extends the tray to Freya.

Penny: Would you to have your tea first or do want your lunch first instead?

Freya groans again but motions for the tea cup.

Penny: Okay tea it is then. But you have to eat your lunch afterwards then take your medicine. Is that okay with you?

Freya nods and reaches for the cup, Penny pushes the cup towards her hand and help guid to her mouth. Once Freya’s got her cup of tea the ice stops forming and Penny turns to Winter.

Penny: Do you need me to do anything else?

Winter: (sighs) Please go and reheat her lunch.

Penny: Yes Ma’am!

Penny does as she’s told and reheats the food and brings the food back out. After Freya’s fed and medicated the girls begin gathering up the dishes and talking.

Winter: Thank you Penny, taking care of the Maiden can be taxiing at times. Especially when she gets in modes like this.

Penny: Is that why you told me to come with you on this errand?

Winter: Yes, I thought given your physical abilities and personality you’d be best suited to help keep her calm or in the worst case scenario hold her down with lower risk of major injuries.

Penny: Thank you?

Penny looks around again this time noting the paintings in detail. The all had a similar style, some looked older then the others, and there was an easel and cabinet full of fresh paints and brushes.

Penny: Winter? The paintings here were they all made by-

Winter: Yes, Freya was a talented painter before she became the Maiden, the large one on your right was the last piece she made before she fully devoted herself to being the Maiden and retired from her art career.

Penny: Oh.

Penny looks up at the paintings. It’s a silhouette of a little girl holding up a ball of light, the background is a starry night sky over snowy mountain range. The vocal point of the painting seems to seem to be the girl and the light. The light swirled outward blending into the other whites of paintings and while only being a silhouette the girl seems to looking at the light her expression unknown. What does the girl see in the light Penny wonders. She stares at for long moment trying to find meaning in the art piece. But soon Winter calls her back to the kitchen. Penny waves goodbye to Freya and takes one last look at the paintings before leaving.

Once they’ve cleaned up they leave the facility and go their separate ways to continue their work days. From there Penny continue with her day, her mind wondering back and forward between thoughts of the painting, Ciel, and Whitley until she finally finishes up her work day and goes home. When she opens the front door Penny is greeted by the sound of rustling of paper bags and the scent of pre cooked food. She goes to kitchen to see her dad setting a brown paper bag on the table. Pietro looks up to see her sporting a curious look as she inspects the bag.

Pietro: Welcome home Sweetpea.

Penny: Hi Dad, what’s in the brown paper bag? It smells quite good.

Pietro: Well, I was going to cook but I’ve been on phone on conferences all day and forgot to take anything out. So I ordered us some takeout instead.

Penny: Takeout!

Pietro: Yup, it’s stuff you haven’t tried yet to!

Penny: Yay!

Pietro opens the bag and pulls out three containers. He opens them to reveal a large amount of delicious looking food.

Pietro: We’ve got some soup dumplings, spicy wontons, and Yang Chow fried rice courtesy of Ms. Ling’s.

Ms. Ling’s was a popular family owner restaurant in Mantle Penny passed by almost everyday on patrol. The scent from the front door alone was enough to make her want to go in and order as much as she could have in one sitting but she never have the time or money to make quick trip. But tonight she would have her fill!

Penny runs and grabs two plates and forks. She hands her dad his then makes her plate, four soup dumplings, a couple spicy wontons, and a helping of fried rice! Pietro chuckles as fulls up her plate. Once her plate is full she sits down, and just as she about to take her first bite her scroll rings. Penny pulls out her scroll with her free hand and begins to read her messages. She tries to read and eat at the same but once she gets to a certain point she drops her fork.

Pietro: Penny? What’s wrong? Did something happen?

Penny: I-It’s m-my briefing a-a-and n-new sch-schedule. T-they j-just s-s- sent it a- a-a-and.

Pietro: And what?

Penny: The ten-tenth p-page l-last paragraph. I-it says it says-

Penny holds up her scroll for her dad to see and puts her head down on the table. Pietro tips his glasses a bit as he begins reading the section she mentioned.

Pietro: “ The formal etiquette lessons shall be held at the Schnee Manor Monday through Friday during the scheduled times. Penny Polendina will be chauffeured from the designated transit station to the Schnee Manor and back via a private chauffeured car. The lessons will be instructed by the Schnee Dust Company Heir, Whitley Schnee with up to five manor staff personnel present during each session. This schedule will go into effect tomorrow morning, please arrive on time and be appropriately attired.”

Penny: (high pitched squeak)

Pietro: Hmm, there’s a Note from the Instructor at the end. “ Good evening Ms. Polendina I’m looking forward to seeing you in the afternoon for our orientation session. I’m excited to teach you what I know and hope this will be a wonderful learning experience for both of us. Sincerely Whitley Schnee.”

With that Penny put her scroll down on the table and puts her hands in her now red face and starts squeaking at in even higher pitch while her dad just sits there and awkwardly pats her head. Tomorrow is going to be a very Very VERY difficult day.

[bashfulgnome]

Converge

Hi everyone! It’s been a long time since I’ve posted a new fic, as I’ve been very busy for this past year. But I’m back and I’ve finally finished something that’s been in the works for many months. I hope you all enjoy!

Warning for moderately-graphic descriptions of injury, and very mild innuendo.

“Two o'clock!”

One blast and the creature dropped from the sky, screeching in a puddle of its own innards.

He didn’t know why, but they stood back-to-back, taking a last stand against a swarm of cy-bugs on a windy, barren patch of land beyond the perimeter check radius. He didn’t know how he was managing to hold up such a large rifle either, but he did know he had to keep firing on the horde if the two of them had any hope of getting back to base. The fifty or so remaining insects circled above them in a continuous wave, blotting out the hazy dappled sunlight and strafing the fire aimed their way, while a few cyclically broke from the mass to divebomb the pair Galaga-style.

His fingers locked stiff against the weapon and he ignored the soreness in his joints. Letting up, even for a moment, wasn’t a chance he was willing to take; not when they were fully depending on each other for their mutual safety.

She held up well—as would be expected—although he wondered how she could see through her helmet with her sweat-soaked hair all plastered against her face. Nothing seemed to bother her in the heat of battle, and she was as determined to protect him as much as he was for her.

Their tactical formation allowed them to rotate in the opposite direction of their enemy. Leaning back against each other, both feeling their partner’s movements and working with the coordination of one mind, they placed measured footfalls in an inverted tango as they fought together. The state of flow allowed them to pick off multiple bugs per second, pausing only for verbal warnings. After a couple minutes of their practiced teamwork, only the smaller and injured members of the swarm remained.

For all the effectiveness of their strategy, the spinning, insects droning, vision swirling, weapons thundering, and buffeting of the wind chipped away at his bearings. He remembered what she had always told her troops—"stare at ‘em flyin’ in circles too long and the ground’ll come up to meet you"—and in his disorientation he failed to notice a cy-bug with a partially-smashed wing landing perpendicular to his and his lady’s field of vision. Only as it squealed and clattered towards them did he realize too late that it was aiming for her weapon.

Unable to turn sharply without sweeping his partner down with him, he shoved backwards, nudging her out of the way of the bug, and falling into its path himself. It was no surprise to him that the monster was not picky; he would do nicely as a consolation prize. Without hesitation it sunk its teeth into his leg armor with a sickening series of pops and pulled him off his feet, causing him to hit the ground hard enough to dislodge his rifle from his grasp. Before he could retrieve it, his captor attempted to drag him into the air, but lacked the leverage and strength to gain more than a few feet of altitude with him in tow. A voice foreign in its tone and volume screamed out from within him,

“Tam! Run!”

Unarmed, he could only push and pull against the creature’s mandibles in an attempt to stay upright, let alone injure it enough to make it release him. Either way Tamora was safe. There had only been three other bugs remaining; he could hear her yelling out and gunning down the last of them behind him. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, he reasoned, but he shook off his helmet to get a better view of his enemy. He wouldn’t be needing the headgear for long anyway, provided his plan worked out.

He punched the insect in the eyes��breaking one of them—and flailed around to keep his leg out of the churning metal spikes, trying to buy her as much time to get away as he could. The furious shocks of pain gave way to numbness from the pressure. Clenching his eyes shut, he rocked back and forth in the hopes of disorienting his attacker. The buzzing only grew louder and his struggles more desperate as the bug’s patience wore thin—

CRUNCH.

Was…that his leg?  

The monster suddenly buckled in midair and sunk to the ground with a screeching howl of agony that burned his ears, green blood pouring out from around its neck and eye sockets.

He chanced a peek and found himself in no different condition than a few seconds ago. But the bug was much less fortunate.

He fully opened his eyes and saw Tamora on its back, knife drawn in between the plates of the steel exoskeleton, furiously sawing away at the cords connecting its head to the rest of its body as the creature scrabbled around in a futile attempt to grab her.

“Stay with me, soldier!” she shouted, between dodging the sharp edges of broken wings flailing at her. “They’re at their worst when they know it’s over!”

With each snap of a cut cable, they descended farther until he felt the ground give him a light slap on the back of his head. By the time Tamora reached the last wire, her blade had dulled from the heavy use and only cut partway through. Not wanting to waste any time, she flipped up the face visor of her helmet, bit into the frayed cord like a predator delivering the killing blow, and tore it the rest of the way apart with her teeth. With a hot spark and a fading groan, the light finally went out of the bug’s cracked eye lenses and the whirling blades slowed to a stop.

She rolled off the creature’s back and landed facedown on the ground with a heavy sigh of relief, pulling her helmet off onto the cool, dusty ground scarred with scrap metal. He reached out from his nearby spot and gently brushed her hair out of her face.

A new, intense sort of affection for her crackled to life and swelled in his chest as they caught their breath together. Here in the glow of the last bug’s postmortem electrical sizzling, he felt closer to her than he ever had, grateful that she had come back to get him, and he wasn’t sure exactly what he felt with how she took down that monster—proud? Awed? Lovely confusion swirled together all over itself, and the only way he knew how to express it right then and there was to clear a spot on her cheek for a kiss.

She chuckled, still facedown—a sharp exhale that told him she was smiling even with her face hidden in the ashy soil—and gave his shoulder plate a friendly half-punch.

He propped himself up on his uninjured leg and pulled himself into some semblance of an upright posture, leaning heavily to one side. The adrenaline had clearly worn off; pins and needles roiled inside his skin. His groaning at the sudden sensation returning to his limb caught her attention, and he extended a hand to help her up when she raised her head to take a look. Pulling her up he seemed to see her at eye level, face-to-face, but somehow it just made sense in all his disorientation.

He glanced her up and down with a questioning look.

“I’m good,” she grunted, and slung both of their firearms over her back with one helmet balanced upon each of them. Her rote work machinations froze when her eyes drifted to his injury.

“What the hell is that?”

His heavy armor had fortunately prevented his leg from being snapped in half, but the attack had caused the plates to buckle inward across the entire space from his knee to his ankle. The razor-sharp edges scratched open the undersuit and the nearly-black bruises left beneath it; he looked as though he’d tried to fatally shin-kick a stack of plate glass covered in concrete. Bending the leg only made his nerves scream in protest, and he had to wait for the chill to pass through his spine before he could answer.

He took a breath to speak, and his voice came out nearly unrecognizable. He couldn’t tell if he’d hit his head too hard or taken a shock from the severed wire, but he felt disconnected from his own speech.

“I’m okay…it’s just some cuts,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Doesn’t even look like it really broke the skin!”

No sooner did he speak than a trickle of blood ran down the cracks in his armor and pooled on the dirt around his foot. The wounds were so sensitive that he could practically feel the little stream dribbling over and into them on its way down. Or was that the leftover panic-sweat pouring down his legs now that he was standing? He couldn’t tell.

Tamora raised an eyebrow. “You’re not walking on that, babe, it’s gonna tear itself apart and you’ll bleed out. C'mere and lean over.”

“Hon, you’re already holding both weapons—”

“—Up you go.”

Minding his leg, she hoisted him across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry and headed off. With the greater-than-usual effort she required to haul him up, he wondered if she was injured too. The thought made him want to clip through the ground.

Close together as they were, with a better look at her face he found a red streak tracing the outline of the visor from her lower lip to the middle of her right cheek. She dismissed his stare with a grunt.

“Don’t worry about it, just a little zap. Once it’s done tingling it’ll heal up and fade.”

“'Don’t worry about it’? Tam, you could’ve gotten electrocuted! Why’d you go to all that trouble?”

“You were too close to it,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t shoot it without hitting you or blowin’ shrapnel all over your leg, and if I tried to break the wires by twisting its neck then its teeth would’ve gotten pushed into you even deeper.”

“No I mean…why? And for what? I wasn’t even supposed to be on this mission and I could’ve gotten you killed! You could’ve just come back for me later! You know how fast the backups roll out when it’s something like this—”

“You really think I’d leave you there when there’d be nothing but a pile of warm guts to come back to if I’d waited any longer?!” she barked in exasperation. “Oughtta know by now that I love you. After throwing yourself in front of that thing for me, I wasn’t gonna sit there and let you pay the whole tab yourself.”

That feeling tumbled through him again and he found himself getting dizzy trying to follow it.

“You…you really are a dynamite gal…”

His chest went cold and intense dissociation fogged his mind, numbing his limbs again. The feeling pulled him down, falling further out of consciousness, at once both in awe of her and furious with himself for saying those words out loud.

But she didn’t react. Not negatively at least. She patted him on his bottom and tried to hide a smile, shaking her head. The raging heat of battle in her eyes had smoldered to glowing embers of affection, and she turned to press her lips to his in a soft, unhurried kiss.

“You’re welcome…”

—

In an instant Felix found himself in total darkness, warm and silent. The rhythmic rise and fall of pressure against his back and the weight of a long arm draped over his body brought him back into clarity—he lay with Tamora in her cot in Hero’s Duty, under the cozy quilt he’d brought her from home to make his fiancée’s living space more comfortable. She slept peacefully, and the bedside clock read 3:28 AM.

His head clearer, he pulled back the blanket to inspect his leg and found it to be completely unharmed. He couldn’t have fixed it with his hammer, he’d have remembered that…and he remembered that he’d stayed the night in his special lady’s quarters since she needed to work late for a perimeter check. It must’ve been a dream.

Yet although it didn’t feel real, exactly, it felt…detailed. Not quite a nightmare, but he still trembled from the intensity of the experience—combat and dissociation alike—leaving him in an uneasy state. He felt its approach rumbling in the distance, a delayed sort of dread amalgamated from a hundred different dredged-up feelings and memories whose size he couldn’t judge from his current vantage point.

If this was anything remotely close to how Tammy’s episodes felt, he couldn’t imagine how she ever got any sleep. He sat up, clapped his hands against his face, and reached for a cup of water sitting on the nightstand.

The movement caused Tamora’s arm to slide off Felix and onto the bed. Her hand landed on a warm patch of the sheet and she felt around for him, finding a slightly damp, shaky arm. He froze at the sudden touch mid-sip, then sighed in relief. She released her light grip and stroked his arm with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry, honeybadger,” he whispered. “Did I wake you up?”

His own voice didn’t startle him this time, a thought he never figured he’d have.

“It’s all right,” she groaned. “What was it about?”

“What was what about?”

“The dream.”

“How—?”

“I know what those weird ones feel like,” she replied, without a trace of doubt. “You’re all cold-sweating and confused.”

Felix only continued shivering and put down the cup, not trusting his hands to keep it steady anymore. It embarrassed him that a dream like that—one that wasn’t even horrible—affected him so much. He tried to reply but the wave of that odd negative feeling sideswiped him, and he reached for the small bedside trashbin. His coughs produced nothing but dry heaving.

“Take it easy! C'mon, here you go.” Tamora rubbed his back until the coughing subsided, then tipped up the cup to his lips for him to finish the drink.

It didn’t take him long to quiet down, but he still shivered and sweat, clinging to her as though he feared he’d fall. She placed him back under the covers and pressed her palms firmly against his shoulders. He put his hands over hers and squeezed them.

“More?”

He nodded.

She carefully lowered herself onto him, trying to avoid restricting his movement too much. His heartbeat buzzed and thumped against her own chest and made him vibrate erratically beneath her. For an 8-bit this rapid pulse was normal, even without a heightened emotional state—but with how bizarre it felt to her, she could never stop herself from worrying.

“You’re safe, babe. The dream’s over. Can you hear me? You’re gonna be fine,” she whispered, one hand combing through his hair in a gentle rhythm.

The warm pressure of her blanketing him brought Felix reassurance. He took a deep breath and inhaled that sweet intermingling of faint napalm, strawberry shampoo, and her natural scent that he knew so well. The rest of the dread barreled safely past him like a freight train running on a parallel track. Little by little the quivering faded and his breathing evened out until he could focus on the outline of her face hovering above his own.

The illumination from the clock let him see her just clearly enough to make out her concern.

“Thank you, darlin’. I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as yours get.”

“Doesn’t matter. How’re you feelin’?”

“Tam—”

She pressed a quick kiss against his lips to settle him down. “C'mon. Whatever it was, it was bad for you. Are you okay?”

“Now I am. I-I think. But…”

The events of the dream kept repeating in his mind. Calm as he was for the moment, they still played loudly enough to compete with the only sound in the room.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

His voice came in a hushed squeak. “…Am I holdin’ you back?”

She blinked. “From what?”

“I don’t know…I just feel like no matter what I do, I could never measure up. You’re strong, and smart, and brave, and…well, gosh, you’re more gorgeous than a sunset on the beach…I love you more than anything but I’m not…enough. You deserve the best of everythin’ and that’s more than I can be.”

She leaned in closer and brushed a finger along his cheek.

“Felix, if I had to live up to everything you’re holdin’ yourself to, we’d be toast from the start. You’re more than enough for me.”

His cheeks flushed with heat and he averted his eyes. Suspecting that their conversational position was flustering her little guy, Tamora laid down next to him.

“If all this is moving too fast for you, we can put it on hold, I get it. There’s no rush. We can keep going like this without the formalities if the whole contract thing is too much.”

“Tamora Jean, I don’t ever wanna make you get to thinkin’ I don’t want this. I’ve never doubted lovin’ you for a second, a-and I’ve wanted to be married to you for…"—he clasped a hand over his chest and giggled to himself—”…a real long time now. I’m just worried about you. You’re the one gettin’ the bad end of the deal…and I just— I can’t go off bein’ selfish about it. I don’t want you to regret this.“

"The hell are you talking about?” The words came out in a growl, louder than she intended. She propped herself up on one elbow and leaned in close enough that he could feel the tempo of her breathing change.

Rattled, he couldn’t muster an answer. Seconds dragged by and Tamora drew back.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Here you are, all shaken up already and I’m sittin’ here scaring you even more.”

“No I understand, it’s okay—”

“It’s not okay, I’m making it worse.” She groaned again and rubbed the heel of one hand against her eyes. “You know how I am, hearing you talk about yourself like that. Comes with the territory. But— this isn’t a physical threat, is it? Nobody I need to straighten out for you?”

“No ma'am.”

She ran a hand through her hair and grumbled. “If I was any good at fightin’ that abstract stuff then you wouldn’t be on the other end of this all the time…” She shook her head. “Y'know what, give it to me anyway. I owe you.”

“…Well, I’m the only person you’ve been with since you’ve gotten here. What if…what if there’s someone better for you out there and I’m keeping you from finding them? I’m not…” He made a vague hand gesture, as though trying to measure the air. “…useful. I’m not even good-lookin’. I don’t know why you would settle for me.”

“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?”

“You’ve seen 'em, Tammy. They yell awfully rude things at you in the station and they only stop when you challenge 'em back. They look at us together and holler out at you no matter what I tell them 'cause they think I’m a joke.”

“Who cares what those knuckle-draggers think? They’re just upset that someone smaller than they are got to lay hands on a pair of knockers before they did.”

She knew it was inevitable, but she still couldn’t stifle a laugh when he flushed bright red.

“If they had any potential to be good partners they wouldn’t be huddled up in empty outlets and hootin’ at people. They can scream all they want, I’m the one who scored the most premium-grade husband material in the whole arcade by pure dumb luck.”

“Aww, c'mon Tammy…” Felix giggled and hid his face in his hands.

“I don’t waste my time with slobs, troglodytes, cowards, womanizers, manchildren, or anyone who puts on a nice act then turns into a monster as soon as they hear a 'no’. You’re none of those things, not by a long shot. Say the word and I’ll gladly knock down anyone who tells you you’re not good enough for me.”

Felix smiled and tentatively reached for Tamora’s hand. She felt a hesitancy in the motion and saw the same in his smile, almost as if he wasn’t giving himself permission to accept the compliment.

“Hey.” She whispered and scooted closer to him, her tone dropping from hard authoritarian to gentle coaxing. “You lifted me out of the Nesquiksand, remember?”

His face fell and he looked away, mumbling in response.

“What?”

“I pulled my shoulder…I pretended I was okay and then fixed it when you turned around to go to the shuttle! I didn’t want you to think I was weak!”

“Oh, Felix…”

“You looked so gosh-darn impressed with me and I didn’t wanna make you feel bad or let you down…and then I did anyway, when we were flyin’…I never wanna hurt you like that again.”

Tamora gave his hand a squeeze, making him look up at her.

“We had to work together to get outta there. Didn’t exactly escape my notice that we’ve got a size difference goin’ on—why’d you think I wouldn’t be impressed that you held on that whole time?” She nudged him with grin. “Wouldn’t have been surprised if I knew that lift gave you an injury.”

She kissed his fingertips.

“And quit worryin’ about that anymore. You couldn’t’ve known about those damn words then, and you know full well now. Hope you’ll always be lucky enough that you never have to fully understand this.”

“But—” He sighed. “But that’s the thing, Tammy. There’s so much I don’t know. I’m…” He shook his head. “I have no background on this. I’m too simple. W-what if I can’t learn it all, and I keep ending up hurtin’ you?”

She counted off her fingers. “Remember when I snapped at you for not knowing what a cy-bug was? Or when I jumped your bones too hard and accidentally clipped you through the headboard of the bed onto the floor? Or when I thought you were being attacked in Game Central because I didn’t realize that’s just the way Zangief gives hugs? I’m the one who’s gotta make sure I don’t stomp all over you and the others.”

A shy yet satisfied grin broke across his face at the mention of the second item, but the third elicited a mischievous laugh. “He invited you to Open Tournament Night. Ralph saw the whole scuffle 'n was afraid of you for a week.”

“See? You’re far from hurting me. If I’m being honest— y’ know, you might not realize it, but you take care of me every day. PTSD doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t care whether you’ve come to terms with what happened…or didn’t happen. You’ve always been patient with me through everything, and you’re gonna be the best partner I could ever ask for. You already are.”

“I know you mean it. I’m not doubtin’ you, Tammy. But…you know how you say that sometimes, your mind sorta…it doesn’t wanna let you believe?”

He waited for a response, but she only put a hand on his shoulder and nodded for him to continue.

“I shouldn’t say it, bein’ so lucky, but…thirty years of folks cozyin’ up all over you makes you wonder if anyone really means it, or if anyone’s gonna really feel some kind of way about you if they weren’t programmed to. And with everything else goin’ on, and the dream…it kinda just stacks up.”

The silence was agonizingly long but neither of them could break it. For all that a shared experience would do for their mutual understanding, she hoped with all of her being that nothing had happened to drag him anywhere near the same disgusting place of night terrors, self-doubt, and mistrust from which she’d spent her post-programming life clawing her way out. No question she was ready to do whatever was needed to pull him back into the safety he’d always provided for her. But the thought of seeing her illness mirrored in him and knowing she couldn’t protect him from it in the first place horrified her.

It took another minute for her to trust her voice, if only as a whisper.

“You ready to tell me about the dream?”

“Are you okay to hear it?”

“Of course, darling. C'mere.” Tamora scooped Felix closer and he tucked his head under her chin in that familiar way they fit together. The uncomfortable feelings of the dream still knocked around in his conscious mind but the grounding touch made it significantly easier to bear.

“Well, we were back-to-back in the middle of this big battle. There were cy-bugs swirlin’ around everywhere and we couldn’t escape. One of 'em got its wing broken and tried to sneak up on you.”

He felt her breath hitch for a moment.

“Are you sure you’re feelin’ up to this, honeyb—”

“Keep— keep going,” she stammered. “I’m fine, just…kinda surprised me.”

He kissed the underside of her jaw before continuing.

“I kinda panicked and pushed you outta the way. It grabbed me by the leg, I dropped my gun, and then it tried to take off with me. It didn’t get too far on account of its wing, but it chewed up my leg really bad and I tried to fight it by hand.”

He blushed profusely and nuzzled against her neck. “And then…you jumped on the bug and cut all its wires, but one of 'em was stubborn so you broke it with your teeth…”

“And I decapitated it? Then we had a moment and I picked you up?”

Felix looked up and nodded. “I really…it made me feel so close to you. Then I said something I shouldn’t have, but you were okay with it.”

Tamora only stared at him.

To most, her expression would be nearly inscrutable. When she and Felix had first started dating, some of her men had told him that reading her was like reading a bear—between her severe resting facial expression and gruff voice you never knew for sure what she was thinking or feeling unless she was very obviously angry.

But Felix had noticed it in her eyes. The rest of her face could be carved from stone, but fear, sadness, hesitancy, worry, joy, serenity—it always came right through, clear as day.

This time, it was some combination of shock and…nervousness? Carefully, he moved a few strands of hair away from her cheek and rested his hand along her jawline. He could feel the clenched-up tension and massaged his fingers into the space just below her ear.

“That’s what I mean, sugarplum, how this all flared up and got me to thinkin’ about everything else I said—even in my dreams, I’m slowin’ you down.”

“…That was Brad.”

It was Felix’s turn to freeze. “Wh-…what do you mean?”

“That wasn’t just a dream, that’s one of our memories. He came with me on patrol and we got separated from our vehicle by a cy-bug ambush. Saved each other and I carried him back to the jeep.”

A hundred little pieces all clicked together somewhere down in Felix’s assembly language. The explanation made sense only on some visceral level but he couldn’t get inside it. He figured he must have had one strange look on his face, since Tamora quirked a bit of a smile and continued.

“They had to knock him out and pull all the little metal shards out of his leg so he wouldn’t get an infection, flushed the whole thing out with some kinda high-grade antiseptic. He was hobblin’ around for weeks afterward.”

She looked off in the general direction of the little mess of portraits that congregated on her desk. The four of them goofing off in Sugar Rush, a candid photo Ralph took of Felix sharing a pie with her on the back steps of the apartments during Litwak’s lunch break, Vanellope standing on the woman’s shoulders to help hang a wreath while Felix visibly squealed in the background.

Among them stood an old programmed-in snapshot taken by Kohut—Brad and Tamora in civilian clothes, with him laying across a beat-up couch and trying to hide his bandaged leg behind her. She sat upright in front of him on the edge of the cushion, and they both looked like they had just finished laughing after Kohut cracked a joke.

“We got engaged a month later. He said he wanted to do it right after I sawed that bug’s head off but he couldn’t bend his knee well enough yet.”

Felix felt his chest twisting inside, an uncomfortable mingling of relief and shame. It wasn’t something he had done on purpose, but something he was exposed to against anyone’s will, and of course it was something he knew he wasn’t supposed to see. He’d promised Tamora that he wouldn’t press her for stories when she wasn’t ready, and yet here she was feeling she had to explain herself to him anyway. He was lifted out of his thoughts by Tamora leaning in, somehow seeming both curious and satisfied.

“Felix, you…somehow you were accessing his memories in your sleep?”

“Aw Tammy I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have seen all those private things. Nobody should’ve.”

“No, I…I’m glad you did.” She smiled and rubbed circles against his back. “It sounds like you felt what he felt. That’s better than I coulda done telling you, and to be honest I was gonna bring it up one of these days anyway. There’s nobody I’d trust more to hear it.”

He hugged her a little tighter, taking a chance and loosening his grip on the guilt. To his surprise he could feel it pulling away of its own accord.

“As far as I know, you saw an unused cutscene. But why you were in it…I have no idea.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s just a TobiKomi thing.”

She was pretty relieved herself, that in spite of all her fears he hadn’t developed an illness. He’d always been very sensitive, and getting a peek at a relatively tame part of her history firsthand was a far better outcome than almost anything else he could’ve seen.

“Are we close to where it happened? Maybe the game got confused with me bein’ here for too long when I shouldn’t be.”

She shook her head.

“The players don’t see the whole story. There’s a lot more to that guy than a few cutscenes the devs chose to keep visible in this game—the arcade version, at least. What you saw doesn’t have an event trigger in this game and only I know about it. There must be one hell of a coding oversight someplace if it just played in your head out of nowhere, but it makes me wonder…”

Maybe it was delusion, she thought. Maybe it was just a coping mechanism, or a reaction to having so many memories rooted in this hellhole of a game. But she always felt that some little spark of Brad still lived—if that was the right word—in Hero’s Duty. The idea of him benevolently haunting the place was a small, private comfort to her. That wherever he was, if he was anywhere at all, he would choose to stick around and maybe even help them out from time to time.

Felix felt her smile and kiss the top of his head. A deep sense of peace seemed to flow from their point of contact and wash over him.

“If you don’t mind me askin’…what was he like?”

She took a deep breath, sighed, and snorted out a half-chuckle at the handful of pleasant and bittersweet memories she hadn’t allowed herself to touch since she’d been plugged in.

“Heh. Well naturally, he took his job seriously, but he wasn’t just some big stoic macho guy. You saw he needed a hand too. Had a lot of hard feelings over his own work causing so much trouble and it kept him up at night too. He was the only one left when we got here.”

That hit Felix hard. Tamora had told him before that Brad didn’t mean for the cy-bugs to be what they’d become, but he’d never considered how much it would’ve gnawed at the inventor’s conscience.

“Sometimes he’d cry if I got hurt, and just sit there apologizing while he patched me up. If it was him, he’d make dark jokes about it. We both did that…comparing scars, who had a gorier injury, all that. When we had to camp out he’d put my sleeping bag on top of his so I wouldn’t be on the ground. 'Course bein’ on top of someone’s bones was pretty uncomfortable too but he meant well.”

The tangled cords of the dream straightened out a bit more. She was right—he’d felt what Brad did, even to the point of it shaking his code and splitting his mental state where they diverged in action or feelings—but it didn’t shock him anymore. There’d been fewer differences than he thought.

“He was a great guy…but he’s really lucky that I didn’t meet you first.”

He gasped, so quietly that she barely heard him. “Tammy…you really mean it?”

He needed tenderness. The thought finally blindsided her, and she couldn’t believe it was so obvious. All the calculated reasoning certainly helped to an extent, but sealing the deal required him to be understood on an emotional level. She needed to be as open with him as he always was with her.

Normally that was easier said than done, with her nature. But something about this early morning atmosphere made her see him the way he saw her. She commanded his full attention. The way he gazed so earnestly up at her, with one arm around her and the other tucked in close to his chest, the muted, dim light in the room…it was her turn to be rendered speechless and start her thoughts from scratch. He was unbearably cute, and in turn he made her feel like the strongest, most attractive sprite in existence. In less-serious circumstances she would’ve gone right ahead and asked if he was ready for her to indulge her own physical feelings for him, but that would have to wait. They both needed this first.

She pulled him away slightly and placed him at her eye level with a firm nod. “I want you to understand more than anything that you are not some second-best backup option. I am not settling for anything. I never have and never will. I wasn’t with him because he was big or strong. I was with him because he was a loving partner, a trusted ally, and a good listener who took the time to understand me. In my line of work…” She shook her head. “I didn’t think I’d ever get someone like that, but I got it twice. If you ever think I don’t value what you bring to this, I want you to remember what you did when the bugs backed us up to the Sugar Rush exit. Remember how you stayed up all night to talk me down from an episode. I haven’t forgotten.”

Several times he attempted to choke out a response. He settled for a soft affirmative whimper.

“You’ve had to prove yourself in real, unscripted situations you were never trained for, unarmed, with limited resources, and you still made it through. After that first night terror when I half-woke up disoriented…and screaming…and kicked you onto the floor, I was afraid I’d scared you off and that was that.”

Her expression faltered a moment before breaking into a gentle smile.

“But you never left. You just…you saw what you were getting into and didn’t go running in the other direction. You cared— still care enough to stick around, and learn, and help…you never made me feel ashamed of being what I am. Don’t delude yourself into thinking I’m doing this on a whim. I don’t take this stuff lightly and I would never be going into marriage again if I still had any doubts about you.”

Felix felt as though he could melt under that steel-blue gaze; between being curled up against her and trying to absorb the meaning of everything she’d said, he could swear his heart was about to combust. Needless to say, no words came out. He got the sense that her airing of these feelings did as much for her own health as for his. Even if he didn’t feel as though he’d been overclocked…what could he say?

“After everything, I have to accept that he’s only ever been a ghost, like it or not. Both of us were scripted into doing what we had to do for the game’s story. Used to think I’d never stop blaming myself just like he did over the bugs, and I know the PTSD still won’t ever just get up and book it, but everything’s different now. You’ve given— aww, c’mere.” He whimpered into her shoulder and she pulled him back up to her face, her inflection gentler this time.

“You’ve given me more than any backstory could. All those therapeutic knitting circle meetings that Clyde kept goin’ on about, walks in Niceland tryin’ to avoid Gene, skeet shootin’ over in Duck Hunt for a change of scenery— y'know…that wouldn’t help nearly as much if I wasn’t comin’ home to an adorable handyman rarin’ to tell me all about what Norwood’s new kittens were up to, or sittin’ there enthralled by my fiftieth story about a player hitting three bugs with one round.”

Felix was a complete mess. Tears soaked his hands that he clamped over his nose and mouth. He leaked the occasional choked sob, trying desperately not to interrupt her with his various emotional noises.

Tamora knew he couldn’t hold it in much longer.

“I’m not a Nicelander. I’m not saying all of this because I was programmed to, or because I don’t know any different. It’s messy, and maybe I don’t have much of a point, but…I’m telling you this because you’re my beautiful little man and I love you to pieces.”

She leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“And don’t you dare try to tell me otherwise.”

A high-pitched, single-channel whine rattled out of him for a few long seconds and Tamora briefly worried that she had crashed him. But immediately afterwards he pressed himself against her and peppered her face with kisses—while she tried to keep up—as though it was the last thing he’d ever do in his life.

Felix was many things but eloquent wasn’t usually one of them. The thought of Tamora trusting him enough to be so vulnerable—to a degree he’d never seen from her before, not even in private—left him speechless. He couldn’t help but feel they’d each broken a barrier for the other, as his insecurity and self-doubt were no longer stifling. He wouldn’t have been able to find the words for a response even if he could form them at the moment; he only hoped he’d given her a clear enough message with everything else he had in him.

“FELIX! Breathe!”

She gave him a few hard thumps on his back and he realized for the first time that he had been straining for air.

“Tha…thank y-you,” he finally sputtered out.

“Are you all right?” she asked, not hiding a trace of amusement as he began to quiet down.

“Now I am…gosh, Tamora, that was beautiful…I…I really—thank you, I needed that a whole lot,” he sniffled. His voice escalated in pitch. “I love you so much…!”

“Aww, c'mere Shortstack…Love you too. Feel better?” Tamora placed him on her chest and pulled the covers up, letting him play with one of her hands.

“Mmhmm…”

“Good. Me too.” she sighed and caught her own breath. “Well, that was something, huh? Haven’t had a night this educational since Markowski set off his own landmine on the way back from the day’s last game.”

“I just wish I didn’t have to wake you up. ’M sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She tightened her one-armed hug around his waist. “Lost count of how many times I’ve woken you up with my night terrors.”

He massaged her hand between his own and she felt a contented frisson rumble through him. “Suppose all I have to worry about now is that I don’t go and faint right there when you come down the aisle.”

“Well, if we can get my best team locked and loaded to fend off any cy-bug attacks, then we can account for that too. Anyone holds it against you and they’ll regret showin’ up. But I’m gettin’ the feeling you’re gonna be fine.”

He beamed. “I’ll do my best! That’s a promise.”

“I know,” she laughed. “Sweet smokeless ballistics, do I know.”

They lay peacefully tucked into each other for a time neither of them bothered to measure—even looking at the clock was too much of an unwanted distraction. But as circumstance would have it, sleep wouldn’t come. Something in both their subconscious minds wouldn’t let them release this moment without some last bit of closure.

“Are you awake?” Felix whispered.

“Yeah.”

“I know I ought to, but I can’t get back to sleep,” he chuckled. “I think I’m enjoying this too much.”

“…I’ve got an idea— well, I’ve had an idea all night…if you’re up for it.”

He turned around and scooted up to face her. “Did you want me to go heat up some milk for you? I’ve got some tea for m'self and—oh!”

Tamora flipped him over onto his back. She nibbled her way up from the side of his neck to his opposite ear, and her nose brushed against his.

“We’ll get to sleep better, warm up the room, and give the troops an early wake-up call. How’d you like your sergeant to show you how satisfied she is with your performance?”

The low, rough purr of her voice alone gave Felix the message loud and clear. She ran one hand down the length of his entire body, doting on the soft contour of his face with a soft pinch, all the way down to those short-but-powerful legs of his. He involuntarily let out a quiet moan at the familiar touch; it was the same sensation of loving reassurance he always tried to communicate to her when tracing her scars and nuzzling into her muscles.

He finally nodded and wrapped an arm around her neck, burying his fingers in her hair with one hand and caressing down her shoulder with the other. Even if this was a treat she intended for him, he wasn’t about to leave satisfied until Tammy was, too. At ease and with confidence boosted, he was ready for whatever they’d tackle together.

“Sounds like a mighty fine plan to me…”

—

Tagging some of my WIR buddies: @ask-icancraft-it @ashleybenlove @sgtcalhouns @coneygoil @kittysfigurines24 @fix-it-feesh @sadboy-tristan @firebreathingfist @make-it-mavis @datamining-your-heart @nijimarii @scarfboyxiv @pixlexic-president

Let me know if you would like your name added to the tags for future fics!

[duhragonball]

Launch?

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: I think the main appeal to the character is that she doesn’t take any shit from anybody.    The blue version of Launch is pretty passive, but she also knows that anyone who messes with her for too long is going to have to deal with the blonde version.

To go a little deeper, I think there’s an enigmatic quality to Launch that draws people in.   We have no idea why she changes hair and personality when she sneezes, and we don’t know where she came from or what she was up to when she dropped out of the Dragon Ball story.   This sort of ties into something I’ve always maintained about the Vegebul ship: the main fascination lies in how much we don’t know.    The audience is left wanting answers, and has no choice but to invent those answers for themselves.   

I decided to look for information on sneezing in Japanese culture, just to see if I could find some insight into the character.    I had a hunch that there must be some figure of speech about a volatile person changing moods as often as they sneeze, or something like that.   What I found instead was the superstition about a sneeze meaning that someone must be talking about you.    I didn’t think this had anything to do with Launch, but then I found out the superstition goes a little deeper.    If you sneeze once, then someone must be saying something nice about you, but if you sneeze twice, then someone’s saying something bad about you.  

So that might be what Launch is based upon.   When she sneezes, someone must be saying something nice about her, and she becomes nice in turn.   But on the next sneeze, she turns bad, just as someone must be saying bad things about her.    Really, though, she turns the whole superstition on its ear, because of all people, no one’s ever talking about her while she sneezes.   They’re always watching her with breathless anticipation.    

Anyway, I think it’s her lack of a coherent character arc that intrigues people.   You can sort of piece something together, but nearly all of her appearances in the anime are filler scenes, so it’s almost a guarantee that you’ll be putting more thought into it than the writers. That scene where she’s working in a food truck could mean that she’s gotten her life in some kind of order, but with her, there’s really no telling.  

Why I don’t: I find the lack of hard information about Launch frustrating at times.   I feel like there’s some awesome throughline that I should be able to find that would define the character in some profound kind of way.    Mark Waid could figure it out, I bet.   I still need to read his run on Archie.   He probably did some 4D-chess character study on Coach Kleats or something that would blow my mind.    I’m sorry, this is supposed to be griping about Launch and instead I’m griping about how envious I am of Mark Waid.    Uhhhh... I dunno, maybe she shouldn’t be stealing stuff all the time.  

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I can’t think of anything better than the episode where she’s getting drunk over Tien’s death in the Saiyans Saga.   It’s a great followup to their last encounter, where she wanted him to join her in robbing banks, and he wasn’t interested.   

Death wasn’t that big a deal for TIen in the long run.   He just ascended to the next plane and trained under King Kai, just like how he trained under Kami in the year leading up to the Saiyan invasion.    But for Launch, it’s a big deal, because he’s finally gone somewhere she can’t follow.    And at last, she begins to understand why Tien isn’t interested in stealing money.   

And then... nothing.   She shows up again at the end of the Kid Buu fight, giving zero indication as to what’s happened in between.   What happened to her?   You decide, because Mark Waid costs too much money to hire, and I sure got no clue.  

Favorite season/movie: Probably the Tien Shinhan Saga by default, since her fascination with Tien is probably the biggest character development for her.   And she figures into this weird glitch between the anime and the manga.   See, the manga version of the 22nd Budokai is much shorter, so Launch never leaves the hospital after they take Yamcha there to deal with his broken leg.   You don’t even see her until the final match, where she, Bulma, and Yamcha are listening to the play-by-play on the radio.   But in the anime, the tournament is drawn out over a few days, and she watches all of Tien’s matches in person, and even attempts to murder Chiaotzu.    So it’s a weird deal, which is perfect for Launch.

Favorite line:  Probably the line where she explains what happens to her when she sneezes, since it’s the only concrete evidence that she’s aware of her double personalities.    Blonde Launch sometimes goes “awww, no!” when she feels a sneeze coming on, but that could only mean that she hates sneezing, even without knowing what it means.   But Blue Launch knows she has another self, which means the Blonde one must be aware of this as well.  

Favorite outfit:

It gets no better than the black shirt and army surplus pants.  

OTP: Tien.   There’s so little we know about Launch, so I’m inclined to hang on for dear life to the one thing we do know, which is that she’s very interested in Tien.  

Brotp: None.  Launch is a very solitary character.   She’s the wind.  

Head Canon: Not really a headcanon, but a story idea that I couldn’t really work out, but I thought it might be interesting if Launch’s Launchness was like a physical condition that could be imparted upon other people.   Like, Bulma gets it, and then she ends up alternating between robbing banks and standing around going “Oh my!”  But I wasn’t sure I wanted to reduce the original Launch to that sort of explanation.   “Oh, we know what causes this, and it’s something we can turn off.”   

This may be why I struggle to come up with story ideas for Launch, because my impulse is to try to invent some neat and tidy explanation for Why She Is Like That, but doing such a thing would force me to choose one possibility and exclude any other, potentially better ideas.   

Unpopular opinion: Toriyama forgot about her because there was really nowhere left to go with her at that point in the story.   Once DBZ started, the story became less about Goku’s friends and more about Goku’s family, and Chi-Chi basically took Launch’s spot.   She was introduced as a foil for Master Roshi, and then got a stint as Tien’s love interest, and then the series progressed to the point where Tien and Roshi were both afterthoughts, so of course Launch was going to become even more of an afterthought.  

And this is okay, because this is what happens with supporting characters.   Like I was saying, if she actually stuck around, and showed up in every “All-the-side-characters-watch-what’s-happening-on-TV” scene, I don’t think she’d be as interesting as she is with her long, mysterious disappearances.  

A wish: I hope my next attempt to write Launch goes well.  

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I don’t really have anything to put here.

5 words to best describe them: Enigma wrapped in a mystery.

My nickname for them:  Ain’t got one. 

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXV

It was a love story from the very beginning.

You are the one in my heart (Part I)

(11x11/11x12)

Hello my friends! Here we go again with another meta about season 11!

This time I'm gonna talk about the way this season makes us see that Dean is in love with Castiel and the angel being the only one in his heart. To talk more thoroughly about this, I divided the topic into two parts.

I want to say thank you to @destielle for beta reading this for all of you! Thank you girl! 💕

Get it out of my head!

Just a little thought about this quote that was repeated several times by several characters in episode 11x11 'Into The Mystic'. Of course they referred to the Banshee, but it was clearly a mirrored description of what was going on with Castiel, at that time possessed by Lucifer.

Cas left when Lucifer occupied his vessel, but while Sam openly worries about him, Dean confronts Sam and us with his trust in Cas and him disappearing… 'Cas is always fine!' 

He was so embedded into his drama with Amara that he had no time for additional worries. And Cas was always fine... Right?

This momentum is important because of the drastic change we will see in Dean’s stance on this after he discovers that Castiel is possessed by Lucifer. From then on he won’t rest until he is able to rescue him. His priorities will change and Amara will drop lower, behind Cas, on the list. But we will talk about this in the upcoming metas.

Oak Park and Broken Hearts

I need to talk about the two songs in the beginning of the episode: they're extremely romantic, talking about two lovers and how they meet again. So… these may be just little hints of Castiel coming back to Dean after being possessed. 

But let's jump to The Residence Oak Park. We meet Mildred, I know, but there's another interesting character, named Arthur. Arthur is the man in charge of the residence, but the reason why he sleeps at this place is because he separated from his wife. He starts talking about it with Dean, and it’s obvious he got his heart broken. He says this sentence to Dean…

ARTHUR: I should have sent the heart. I can be so stupid.

The meaning behind this? He regrets how they broke up over phone, but even more that he didn’t do more to keep her by his side. And these regrets are exactly the same Dean will be struggling with after discovering that Cas was in fact Lucifer the whole time. Maybe he should've paid more attention to what was going on with Cas, acting so weird… but because Cas is always okay, as he claimed... and with Amara on his mind, worrying him a lot, he just couldn't see it.

When Arthur is killed by the Banshee, we encounter through Mildred that he had a heart condition (valves issues), so we, as the audience, connect that bit to the symbolism of the broken heart. This also applies to Mildred herself when she says she has Atrial Fibrillation, another cardiac pathology.

So… why wanted the Banshee to kill Dean? What made Dean vulnerable? Also his heart! It was broken by his encounter with Castiel (Casifer) in the bunker!

Don't use me as bait

Before jumping to Casifer’s and Dean's scene, I want to point out how blatantly the writers helped us seeing the subtext.

First of all they made the Winchesters talk about broken hearts. Because they needed us to see that case revolving around that topic.

Secondly, after Dean and Casifer had their moment, Dean was very offended by the thought of Sam wanting to use Mildred as bait. Why? 

Because writers wanted us to see that what Cas inquired to Dean was to make him act as the bait to catch Amara. And that was the cause of Dean's vulnerability and broken heart… he thought Cas was asking him to play the bait, thus putting him recklessly in danger. His Cas, who always had been loyal to him and who would never hurt him, always took care of him even. It broke Dean’s heart, because he thought Castiel didn't love him the way he did. Again, the shadow of the unrequited love…

And that’s said scene:

Dean enters the bunker and finds Casifer searching for something, looking disheveled with rolled-up sleeves and no overcoat, especially without his trenchcoat. It’s an odd sight of the angel. And rightfully so, because it’s not the real Cas…

After this they start talking about Amara…

DEAN: Yeah, I know. Saying you're gonna kill is one thing, but... Actually doing it's something totally different.

LUCIFER/CAS: What do you mean?

DEAN: I've had two shots at Amara. I struck out both times.

LUCIFER/CAS: What are you talking about?

DEAN: I don't even know where to start.

LUCIFER/CAS: Dean... Tell me everything.

Lucifer found something that sparked his interest: why isn’t Dean Winchester able to kill or harm Amara? So he plays the concerned friend right here to gather more information from Dean.

DEAN: I tried to kill her.

LUCIFER/CAS: Well, the two of you are connected somehow by the Mark.

DEAN: Yeah, no, it's, uh... It's more than that.

LUCIFER/CAS: Attraction? Oh, Dean.

Gif set credit @starlightcastiel

DEAN: I know. I know. Okay? Whatever it is, a... Attraction, connection... I got to tell you, man, it scares me. I don't know that I can stop it. I don't know that I can resist it.

Dean defines his issue with Amara with the word ATTRACTION, but he doesn't know exactly what it is, because he can't control it. Because it’s a dark force that drags him to her. So he doesn't know what it is, but he knows what it’s not (I will talk about this in the next meta). So, Dean is terrified… he doesn't like it. 

Lucifer is lucky because he can use this against Amara, but he tries anyways to act like a comprehensive friend… but he fails… his first mistake is to place his hand on Dean's right shoulder (and that's when Dean looks at him suspiciously) because that's not Castiel's shoulder (profound bond shoulder).

And after this Lucifer says those unlucky words that will break Dean's heart, proning him to become a Banshee's victim.

Gif set credit @starlightcastiel

LUCIFER/CAS: Hey, it scares me, too. But we will find out what this is, I promise. In the end, it may help draw her out. This could be a good thing.

Dean looks at him hurt and confused. Why does Cas want to use him as bait? Doesn't he care about him? 

Dean is pining for Castiel

Gif credit @demondetoxmanual

Mildred was introduced in this particular episode as a wise character, with Dean she talks about watching sunsets and FOLLOWING YOUR HEART. Dean listens to her, and really reflects on those words as we will see in the final episodes of this season, when he follows his heart trying to rescue Castiel from Lucifer despite the main plan. It will be a war decision, more accurate in the circumstances, revealing he never changed his mind and will and has always put Castiel first, because Castiel comes first in Dean’s heart.

Another interesting and wise observation Mildred made about Dean, and writers were very specific to make us see it, is the following…

MILDRED: Darlin'... If there's one thing I've learned in all my years on the road, it's when somebody's pining for somebody else.

[Dean smirks]!!!!! Oh, don't try and hide it now. Follow your heart. Remember? I don't know who the lucky lady is, but I am damn sure jealous.

Mildred saw it, just like the banshee, Dean is pining for someone. The lucky one that has his heart however is not Amara, we know that Dean is afraid of her and he knows it’s not love that he feels for her. But Dean smiles nonetheless… he smiles, because Mildred found out. Yes. He is in love. Yes, he is pining for someone. And it’s a very hot, blue eyed and winged man. 

A little Destiel mirror

Just a couple of words about episode 11x12, we have Alex here with a boyfriend that turned out to be a vampire ( a monster) which she didn't know about before.

Pay attention to this dialogue after Alex finds out her boyfriend is a monster.

ALEX: (To Henry) Nothing? None of it was real?

HENRY: Seriously Al? You were a complete freak! I mean, you were an angry loner, creeping around the school like some kind of trench coat mafia?

CLAIRE: You're gonna burn in hell, you sociopath.

HENRY: (Still looking at Alex) I could never date someone like you.

It’s a switched mirror, Alex represents Castiel now, and the disappointment of being rejected will come at the end of the season when Dean calls Cas their Brother. Oh yes, the car scene… and the coward We/Us speech… my heart.

To Conclude:

Mildred served as a channel to show us Dean is pining for Castiel, delivering an advise Dean will follow once he finds out Cas is in danger.

Dean had his heart broken because of Cas (Casifer), drowning again in the idea that his love is unrequited.

Alex/Henry relationship was a switched Destiel mirror and a premonition of the "rejection" Castiel will feel when Dean calls him a BROTHER later on.

I hope you enjoyed this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @tenshilover20 @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@imjustkipping @destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas From s11, here you have the links Vol. LXII, LXIII, LIV.

Buenos Aires, June 9th 2020 3:17 PM

[peligin-eyed]

In Dreams

Of Urchins, Criminals, Revolutionaries, and Learning to Chart Your Own Course.

Featuring cameos of the Boatman, London’s greatest criminal masterminds, and the Jovial Contrarian.

(aka I wrote out Robin’s backstory and some early game shenanigans)

---

You don't remember the sun, except in dreams. You were so young when your parents brought you to the Neath that the world above seems hardly more than a story. Your life there was something that happened to some unfamiliar small child who was safe and loved and happy. When you dream of warm golden light and strong arms wrapping you into a protective embrace, you wake in the morning with a hollow ache somewhere deeper than your bones.

You have been in the Neath for less than a month when your mother runs off with a devil. Your father throws himself into his new job at the Docks and sometimes he is gone for two days or more only to stumble home in the middle of the night to pass out drunk on the floor of your dirty little Spite flat. One day, instead, a pair of weather-worn dockers come to your door with their caps in their hands to tell you that your father won't be coming home anymore. It was an accident, they say. He fell into the zee and the Drownies dragged him down. They say they'll find someone to look after you and they offer to bring you to see him one last time, to say goodbye. You are too shocked to do anything but nod silently and follow after them.

They take you to a lonely and empty stretch of dock, facing out toward the inky endless darkness of the zee. One of the dockers crouches down and calls your father's name into the water. He emerges a moment later, dripping and pale and not quite looking like himself anymore. He stares at you, brow slightly furrowed, as if he is struggling to recognize you. Then he starts to sing. The dockers each grab one of your thin arms and pull you back from the edge of the dock, watching you warily. The song fills you with a sadness too deep for words and you wriggle out of the calloused grip of the dockers. They shout at you to stay away from the water but you are already running in the opposite direction, back toward London, tears streaming down your cheeks.

 ---

You never go back to that little flat in Spite. You fall in with the Naughts, who take you in and show you the best places to find food and teach you how to fight. They joke with you and plot against the Crosses and after a little while you find that your thoughts don't dwell on your parents as often.

One night, when you can't sleep, you stay up whispering with one of the other urchins. You wonder if you might be able to track down your mother somehow. The Twitchy Pickpocket tells you that it probably won't work. There are just too many devils in London and you don't even know the name of the one she ran off with, and she has probably lost her soul by now anyway. You lie awake long after he has fallen quiet and started to snore, staring up at the ceiling and trying to recall the color of her eyes.

---

Sometimes, in your dreams, you play with your parents in the sunlight on grass that looks impossibly green. By the time you learn that no one can go back to the Surface after having been in the Neath for too long, it's too late for you. You've died once already after a territory battle took a particularly nasty turn, and no one can survive on the Surface if they've died in the Neath.

(The first time you died, you were terrified. It was so dark and the lapping waves reminded you of your father's pale face rising out of the zee. The Boatman awkwardly tried to comfort you with a bony hand on your shoulder as you frantically handed over every lucky weasel hidden in your pockets and begged him to let you go home. It was never as bad, after that first time.)

 ---

As you start to get older, you realize that you'll eventually have to leave your gang and start your own life. You haven't the faintest idea how you're supposed to go about it. You track down the Twitchy Pickpocket, who left a couple years ago and is now doing rather well for himself. He offers to put you in touch with some of his criminal contacts who could help you get started as a proper adult thief.

The Naughts throw you a party the day before you leave for good. Someone managed to get a little bit of real Surface meat and you get the largest piece, and a whole bottle of cheap wine just for yourself. In retrospect, you realize that perhaps you should not have drunk the whole thing and then tried to burgle a fine townhouse the next morning while hungover. You land yourself in New Newgate on your first day out of the gang.

Once you make it out, you find your own little hideaway up in the Flit. It's drafty and a little precarious but it's all yours. You have your own bed you don't have to share and enough room to spread out your meager belongings with space to spare. You can't sleep the first night. It's too quiet all by yourself, just the wind whistling by outside with no one else around you tossing and turning or snoring or mumbling in their sleep.

You find that it is lonely, trying to make it as a thief on your own. Among the Naughts, at least, you could always trust that the rest of the gang would have your back if something went wrong. Adult criminals seem to all be out for themselves and it's hard to know who you can trust and who is just waiting for the chance to stab you in the back (sometimes literally) for their own gain.

---

You decide you will try to make a name for yourself. You boldly proclaim that you'll be one of London's next great underworld kingpins before it even occurs to you to question if this is what you actually want. You learn, in time.

You hear rumors of a diamond the size of a cow and decide that stealing it will be an excellent test of your skills. You start down a dark and twisted path and find yourself buried alive for your trouble before you learn that it was never about a real diamond, after all.

You spend time smuggling for the Gracious Widow and come to admire her subtle cunning. There is wisdom in being quiet and observing and planning before making a move, though you find it hard to shake the habit of rushing in when you feel strongly about something. You admire the care she takes with the orphans she looks out for, too. You hope you will be able to do the same someday.

You spend hours in the chilly roosts of the Flit trying to understand the Topsy King. You get to know the Cheery Man and do what you can to help him in his pursuit of reconciliation with his daughter. He’s never the same after she dies. 

You pity them all, in a way, and you decide that you have no desire to join their ranks. It isn't the kind of life you want.

 ---

You get to know some revolutionaries along the way. They are hard to miss, really. You listen to their speeches with skepticism but you're willing to consider some of their ideas. You burn down a silk warehouse and get arrested again. You destroy a statue and they celebrate you. You learn about the Liberation of Night and think it sounds like a ridiculous idea, frankly. What good could come of unending darkness?

The more time you spend talking and arguing and drinking coffee with them, the more you find yourself sucked into their world. You learn to differentiate between the different schools of thought they fight for. You still struggle to understand the Liberationists. You can't see why they set their sights on such lofty and (for the moment) theoretical goals when the real evidence of the failings of the Masters and the Bazaar is all around you. It's in the neddy men beating dockers for daring to speak up for better working conditions, in the writers made to disappear just for expressing controversial ideas, in the urchins fighting for food in the streets while those in power refuse to share even a little of their wealth. Who cares about the cruelty of the stars when there are people suffering all around?

You find some others who seem to agree with you and your social circle starts to shift. You take up a new job campaigning for the cause. It's not quite a respectable profession but it feels a lot closer than anything you've done before. A handful of supporters start to look up to you for your passion and dedication, not just because they're afraid of you.

It takes you rather by surprise when an old acquaintance shows up at your door in the middle of the night, covered in blood and begging you to let him stay. You don't know how he found you. You'd left behind the drafty shack in the Flit for a set of warm, spacious rooms at the Bazaar and it has been months since you've heard from most of your criminal friends. You're not actually sure how he made it all the way here without being noticed by someone in the street, though you suppose it is very late. You cast nervous glances around the empty street as you try to convince him that you can't take him in at the moment and it would be in his best interest to leave before the constables come by on patrol. He doesn't leave. Finally, you hear the distant sound of heavy boots on cobblestone and you close the door on him. He bangs on the door a few more times before you hear him run off. You try to tell yourself he'll be okay.  You're not sure if you believe yourself. You don't sleep well that night.

The criminals keep their distance from you for a while after that. Apparently this does wonders for your reputation. The Jovial Contrarian approaches you one day to ask if you would be able to help an agent infiltrate the Ministry of Public Decency. He specifically comments on your sound reputation and you manage to keep a straight face long enough to agree to his proposal. After it is done, you learn that you've earned a certain amount of respect among the revolutionaries. You start to feel like maybe you are doing something important, something that matters for once, instead of just whatever you have to do to survive.

---

 Your dreams have often felt distant from your waking life, like you're catching glimpses of someone else's world, so in a way you are not surprised to learn that it is possible to physically enter a different world through dreams. You just didn't expect to learn about it from a sweaty, balding stage magician in a music hall.

You start spending more time staring into mirrors, trying to work out their secrets. Sometimes you catch glimpses of an unfamiliar place filled with cosmogone light that is almost similar to your dreams of sunlight. You decide that you will find a way to reach it someday.

With time, you learn how it's done. You step through the glass and into the Mirror-Marches. The grass isn't quite like Surface grass and the light isn't really the same as sunlight. The Writhing River is like nothing you've seen before. Parabola is certainly different from the Surface, but it still feels like a sort of escape from the Neath.

You don't know what "home" is supposed to feel like, but something about the wild landscape reminds you of some of your earliest dreams, of being warm and safe and happy in the sun.