#and i was vaguely mobbed with people going 'but are you SURE you're good???''

[sparingiscaring]

Suddenly reminded of that time the US Public School System nearly got me struck by lightning ✌️

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Silver Springs Part 10 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~10.5k

Summary: Wanda tries to leave her mob life behind to start a family with you

A/N: I’m very impatient and need to post this before I fall asleep. If y’all noticed me post the wrong thing, no you didn’t. Enjoy the angst!

Chapter Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and heavy angst.

When you hang up a while later, you look to the appointment that’s been added to get a little more information. There’s not much there, but you assume people are working on getting it for you, so you don’t worry about it for now. You have another half hour until your appointment starts so you decide to try to eat something. You grab your water bottle and open it right as your phone rings again. You sigh but answer it to find out you have a walk in. A large dog who was attacked by another dog. When you hang up after saying you’ll be right there you go to stand up forgetting about your water and you spill it all over your desk. You curse as you pick up your keyboard to stop it from reaching the computer as you grab a nearby towel. You start to clean it up before you realize that you’ve soaked your com and you curse again.

“Bucky? Can you hear me?”

You don’t hear anything and you quickly text the brunette that you might have fried your coms before heading downstairs to see this dog. You arrive to near chaos and you curse the fact that you hadn’t taken a little longer to figure things out.

Sometimes you forget how scared some dogs can be. You are reminded of this as soon as you realize that the large dog that an assistant is holding is snapping and trying to lunge at anyone who comes near him. This isn’t something that’s acceptable and you honestly need to talk to your boss a little more about dealing with aggressive pets, but for now you just hurry to grab a big enough e collar that you can throw over this dog to hopefully stop him from biting someone.

You’re also reminded of how scary terrified dogs are when they’re lunging and growling at you. You hold the e collar up towards him and he clearly recognizes them and tries to avoid it, but eventually you slip it over his head and you do it without getting bit.

“Okay, can someone tell me what’s going on?”

Apparently, this dog was in a fight, and despite being the instigator, his victim got in a couple of good bites. The other, smaller dog was dead and that not only depressed you, but concerned you. You're not sure you can send this dog off on his merry way without knowing his situation. So after sedating the dog to get a good exam in you go and talk to his owner to find out as much as you can.

It sounds like a classic dog fighting scenario from what you can gleam from the man’s vague answers and reassurances that it’s ‘no big deal, doc’. Not to mention, his dog is covered in scars on his face, front legs, and hips that are both bite wounds and scratches. Again, you’re at a loss for what to do and you consult another doctor to figure out what the best course of action would be. You both agree to call animal control and have them handle the situation as soon as the dog is treated for his injuries.

You end up running late for most of your appointments in the afternoon due to how involved this case ends up being. You had almost forgotten about the euthanasia at the end of the day when it comes in right before closing. You curse under your breath before running upstairs and grabbing your phone to let Bucky know that you were going to be a little late leaving today.

“Hey.”

“Hey sorry it’s so late, but I forgot to tell you I have a euthanasia coming in now and I won’t be able to leave for a while.”

Bucky insists that it’s fine and that he’ll wait outside for you. You apologize again for breaking the coms, but you promise to have your phone on you at all times.

Mark is the assistant who is with you on this appointment, and you’ve already promised him that this shouldn’t take too long. You feel bad for keeping him here, especially since this is only his third week or so, but he insists it’s fine as you go to get the drugs for the dog. You walk into the room alone first to talk to the owner and examine the moribund dog. You honestly aren’t sure that he won’t just die on his own here, but you’re not going to find out and you bring a technician in to help place a catheter as you go over the process with the owner who just nods silently throughout.

“What questions can I answer?”

When he says he doesn’t have any, but that he’ll want to take his dog home with him, you insist that you can help him take him back to the car. The technician leaves and you and Mark are left alone with the owner. You’d placed the drugs down next to you as you knelt by the dog who had stopped breathing at this point. You’d gotten permission to start and you are about the grab the sedative when the owner speaks up for only the second time since getting here.

“Thank you for making this so easy, Dr. Maximoff.”

You don’t realize he’s said your married name immediately, and you frown in confusion before turning to see him smiling at you. You open your mouth to say something but you don’t get the chance as something pokes you in the neck and you're grabbed from behind.

Bucky sighs as he looks at his watch once again. It’s almost 7 o’clock and he’s starting to get antsy. A few minutes ago, he’d seen the last car leave other than yours from the parking lot. He was certain that you were done at this point and he was getting worried. About 20 minutes ago, two men had come out hauling the euthanized dog to the client’s car. He’d watched them stick it in the trunk and he frowned at both the idea and the visual of that, but he’d just looked away before watching the assistant head back inside.

The client left, and then the assistant left a little later, but you had yet to come out. He knew you were on that appointment, so he decided to give you until 7 before calling you. He knew you were eager to get home and you would let him know if the plans had changed.

He sighs again before reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. He calls you and settles back in his seat as he listens to the phone ring. By the fifth ring it goes to voicemail and Bucky’s frown deepens. He hangs up and calls again, only to get your voicemail a second time. He decides to go find you himself because if everyone else is gone, no one will care.

He gets out of his car and locks it before heading to the yard. The fence around it is always open, and the door into the clinic behind it isn’t locked up until later at night. He walks into the clinic and waits and listens to confirm no one else is here. He looks to the dog runs and pokes his head in to look for you. You’re not there, but Boone is and he barks and jumps up when he sees Bucky. The brunette lets him out and gestures for him to follow.

“Let’s go find your mom, Boone.”

Boone whines as he hurries through the empty building to the stairs. He’s been in here exactly once before and there hadn’t been anyone here at that time either. It was eerily quiet as they walk up the stairs. All of the doctors’ offices are empty, and when he gets to yours and sees your things are still there, he becomes more confused. He takes them with him as he walks back down the stairs and looks in the empty exam rooms before coming to a room that’s still shut. He knocks, but when no one answers he opens it carefully. When Bucky sees what he assumes is a dead dog lying on the floor he runs back out to his car. Boone follows him and he jumps into the passenger seat as Bucky dials Wanda’s number.

“Hey Bucky.”

“Wanda, I think someone took Y/n, I need you to track her. “

Wanda drops the drink she was holding and the glass shatters in the sink. She doesn’t pay it any mind as she scrambles to open the app in her phone.

“You think?? What happened, Buck?”

While Wanda’s checking for your location Bucky quickly explains what happened today. First you spilling water on your coms and then you having to stay late for a euthanasia.

“She told me about that. How do you know it was him?”

Bucky tells her about how he saw the dog in the clinic just now, but that the client had definitely been carrying something to his car in a body bag. Wanda’s panicking by the time Bucky says this, and it only becomes worse as she realizes where your trackers are. Your phone is at work as is your car. The one in your shoulder, however is somewhere downtown. Only about 30 minutes away from the clinic. She gets the address and gives it to Bucky before she claims that she’ll be there too.

“I need to talk to Steve and Nat but I’ll meet you there.”

Bucky’s nodding as he starts his car before peeling out of the parking lot.

“Okay, I have Boone with me. I’ll let you know when I get there.”

Wanda thanks him before she’s running out her door. She just manages to grab a jacket, an extra gun and her keys before she’s calling Steve and letting him know what’s going on. He says that he’ll call Nat and they’ll all meet Bucky at your location.

Wanda is freaking out and hates that she considers going to see Vision before leaving to find you. She has no idea what happened today, but it’s all part of his plan. She makes a detour to the basement and storms down the hall to the room where Vision’s being kept. She throws the door open and starts speaking before she even knows if he’s awake.

“Where did you tell him to take her!?”

Vision looks up lazily and frowns as he’s just returning to consciousness. He’s exhausted and he’s lost a lot of blood in the hours that he’s been down here. He jolts awake when Wanda slaps him across the face to get his attention, but she only glares at him expectantly.

“What?”

She’s losing patience with him and she pulls her gun out before holding it to his forehead with a growl.

“You either tell me where Rumlow took Y/n in two seconds, or I’m putting a hole in your head.”

Vision just stares at her for a moment then he shakes his head before he speaks. He realizes that his time is up and he’s not going to get another chance to have Wanda as his own. He’s lost her already and he’s not sure what else he could do at this point. He sighs in defeat before he shoots Wanda one last smile.

“He’s going to do worse than kill her.”

Wanda shoots him and is out the door in nearly the same second, and she doesn’t look back as she races to her car. She’s already going through all of the scenarios in her head. You’re not going to get out of this scot-free and she may not get there in time to stop Rumlow from killing you. As she gets in her car and it roars to life, she just prays that Bucky gets there before her.

You’re still very sedate when you are handcuffed to a chair. You don’t know where you are, and your eyes refuse to focus as your head rolls back and forth between your shoulders. You realize eventually that you’re in a chair and being held in place by something cold, but beyond that you can’t identify it. You open your eyes and groan in pain before you realize you’re not alone.

“Nice to officially meet you Dr. Maximoff. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

You focus on a figure in front of you. It takes you a minute as you see three of him at once before your brain finally settles enough to recognize that the person in front of you is not the last person you saw. You can’t remember how you got here from work. You’d been doing something, but somehow, now you’re here.

You take a moment to stare at the brunette who’s practically leering at you. He’s older than you, maybe 5 years or so, and he’s got a mustache, short hair and a few scars. You don’t recognize him and even if you weren’t drugged, you’re convinced you wouldn’t know who this man is. You try to sit up more or even stand up but you realize that’s not going to happen as soon as you try. You look down at your arms and you scowl before looking back to the still grinning brunette.

He takes a couple of steps towards you and it’s then that you notice the large knife in his hand. You try not to flinch as he raises it to your eye level but you’re still a little groggy so you can’t help but jump slightly.

“I’m Brock Rumlow. I’m sure your wife’s mentioned me. We’re really good friends.”

Even without looking at him you pick up on the sarcasm, it’s practically dripping from his voice at the last statement. You recognize the name immediately and try to see this guy as the one who trespassed on your property and shot up your house in the middle of the night.

“Y-you shot my dog.”

He just laughs at this before nodding and scowling at the thought. He wasn’t sure why Vision had gone about things the way he did. He honestly had just wasted a lot of time and pissed Wanda off instead of won her attention. Hell, she had probably killed him at this point and Rumlow was just glad that Vision paid him up front.

“Yeah, that was pretty stupid. He told me not to kill him, but to hurt him just enough to make you suspicious. A waste of time if you ask me.”

He’s close to you now and you don’t realize why until he circles the chair you’re stuck to and stands behind you. You flinch again when he touches your back and you’re about to ask what he’s doing when he speaks up. You try to get away from him but realize it’s just silly to try. You’re handcuffed and there’s no way you’re getting out of here without some help.

“Speaking of wasting time. I need to get this out of you.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, and you continue to struggle as he starts to rub your shoulders.

“What the fuck are you doing??”

You don’t get an answer from him but he stops for a moment and you briefly think that he’s not going to do anything bad. You see him reach into his pocket for something but you don’t realize what until he’s holding it in front of your face. You’re still waking up from the sedative and you’re slow to respond to the familiar voice.

“Say hello, doc.”

You don’t realize he’s talking to you and you just frown in confusion before you hear your wife’s voice. You stiffen and try to open your mouth to respond but you’re too shocked to.

“Y/n? Are you there? Talk to me please.”

You squeeze your eyes shut before shaking your head with a groan. Your vision is only slightly clearer as a result.

“Wanda?”

Wanda feels her heart start to race when she hears your voice confirming that you’re with Rumlow. She starts to drive faster, but she’s still too far away to stop whatever is about to happen. She’s about ten minutes away and she just hopes that Bucky’s closing in on your location.

“I’m on the way, Y/n. I’m only ten minutes away.”

When Rumlow laughs Wanda’s knuckles turn white from her tight grip on the steering wheel. Wanda’s considering getting out of the car and just running, but she knows that won’t be any faster. She’s in the city now and can only go so quickly. She takes a second to text Bucky ‘ETA’ as Rumlow speaks up. Wanda almost drops the phone and considers running the red light she’s at when his words register.

“Oh, don’t bother, Wanda. We’ll be done by then.”

You stiffen further as Rumlow’s words hit you like a cold shower. You get a better look at the knife that he’s holding and you gasp as he grabs your shirt and pulls on it before he starts to cut it. You go stock still afraid that he’s going to take it off completely, but he stops once he exposed your shoulder and you’re confused once again. You hiss at the feeling of the cold metal against your skin and then you quickly curse when you feel it cut into you.

“Fuck.”

You clench your teeth at the same time that Wanda does as she looks to the text that Bucky just sent. He’s three minutes out. You can’t stop yourself from groaning as Rumlow cuts deeper into your shoulder against your shoulder blade and you can’t hold back your pained screams when he doesn’t stop. You have no idea what he’s doing and neither does Wanda as she just listens to you scream in agony. She’s running another red light and is only a few minutes away when she hears from Bucky again.

“Rumlow! Stop now and I may not torture you before killing you!”

You can’t hear Wanda over your screaming and tears start running down your face as Rumlow carves up your back. He doesn’t stop until he hits what he was looking for. He peels your skin back, ignoring the curses you let out as he digs out the small metal chip that Wanda’s used to track you for years. He smiles as he walks away from you and tosses it on the floor with a smile.

“Got it. Now how will you keep track of your wife?”

You’re breathing heavily and still crying when Rumlow says this so you’re not really able to register his words immediately. You take a deep breath before you hear your wife threaten Rumlow again. You hear something slam on the other end of the phone and Rumlow must realize he’s running out of time because he grabs his gun from his hip quickly.

“Any last words, doctor?”

You can think of a dozen things you’d like to say, but you’re in too much pain to form words. You just glare at him before you brace yourself. You try to block out the sound of Wanda shouting and pleading with the brunette, but it’s difficult. When Rumlow raises his gun and aims, you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

It hurts a lot more than you thought it would. You’ve never gotten shot before, and you’re eternally grateful for this as the bullet tears through you and hits the wall behind you. You start to feel dizzy and everything sounds muffled as you grow limp in the chair.

“Y/n, no!”

Wanda’s running as fast as she can at this point, and she doesn’t stop despite feeling her breath leave her lungs at the sound of you getting shot. She needs to get to you and get to Rumlow before he escapes. He needs to die for this and she wants to be the one to do it.

Rumlow just smiles as he looks at you slumped over and bleeding out. He heads for the door behind him to leave. He’s done his job and now he can disappear again until Wanda gives up or he has time to slip away from her reach. He goes to open the door but he’s stopped short when it slams open in front of him. He stumbles back slightly and in the same instant he’s shot dead by Bucky who’d run all the way here after hearing him shoot you.

“Y/n!”

The first thing he notices is all of the blood. It’s covering the floor around you and leading toward the door in bloody boot prints.  It’s still dripping down the chair you’re sitting in motionless and Bucky feels his breath catch at the sight of you. It’s not until he hears footsteps behind him that he snaps out of his trance. He runs towards you and tries to take stock of the damage. Your head is against your chest and he doesn’t see an exit wound which he’s grateful for, but the amount of blood tells him that he still has to worry.

“Holy shit.”

Bucky turns when he hears Nat’s voice but he quickly turns back to their friend in front of him. Bucky’s phone is ringing, but he doesn’t notice as he looks at the wound on your shoulder before managing to lift your head and feel for your pulse. Nat grabs his phone since he’s too distracted and answers it before practically throwing it on the ground. She grabs her bag that’s got basic first aid, but looking at how much you’ve bled, she’s not sure it will be enough.

“Bucky, please tell me you’re there.”

Nat nods as she looks to you and has to hold back a gasp at what she sees. Bucky’s confirmed that you’ve been shot in the abdomen and at that same moment it hits the both of them that you’re still breathing. Blood falls from your lips and Bucky’s quick to shoot through your handcuffs to lift you out of the chair.

“We’re here, Wands. She’s alive, but it’s bad. We’re bringing her out now.”

Wanda stops in her tracks on the stairs before trying to figure out what to do. She wants to see you, but she’ll be more helpful once they get you outside. She asks what floor they’re on and Nat says they’re on the third floor but they’re headed down the stairs now. Wanda’s about to turn around and head to her car, but something occurs to her and she stops short.

“Where’s Rumlow?”

She waits for what feels like an eternity before she hears hurried footsteps on the stairs and Nat’s voice comes in through the phone as well as above her.

“He’s dead, we’ll get Steve to take care of him.”

When Wanda sees Bucky and Nat come running down the stairs with you, she feels her breath leave her lungs once again. You’re bloody and unconscious in Bucky’s arms and Wanda’s already hanging up on Bucky to dial another number.

“I’ll call Dr. Palmer.”

Bucky looks a little uncertain and Nat’s already shaking her head as she follows Wanda down the stairs. They’re trying to figure out where to take you and since they’re over half an hour from the compound they might have to go to the hospital. Wanda doesn’t realize this until Nat says it but she curses before pushing the door to the parking lot open.

“I think we need to go to the hospital, Wanda.”

Wanda opens the back door to Bucky’s car knowing he’ll drive faster before getting in to help him lay you down. Boone jumps out of the car with a series of high-pitched whines, but Wanda ignores him. Nat’s wrapped your wound to stop the bleeding, but the bandages are already starting to turn red. Wanda takes off her jacket to cover you when she realizes how cold your skin feels. She reaches in her pocket to grab her keys to give to Nat as she asks for them before she shuts the door. The other redhead’s grabbed Boone at this point and started to drag him back to Wanda’s car. He’s near hysterical as he tries to break free to get to you, but Nat mutters a command to him that only gets him partially calm but it’s enough to get him loaded into the car for the ride to the hospital. Bucky’s already in the front seat and starting the car as he shouts over his shoulder to Nat.

“We’ll meet you there!”

She just waves at him as she gets into Wanda’s car, but Wanda doesn’t notice as she looks down at you worriedly. She takes a moment to breathe and look at your injuries carefully. She can tell you’re bleeding all over her jacket and the seat from a wound on your back that she realizes is from Rumlow removing your tracking device. She knows she’ll have to find a way to explain that to you, but for now she’s more concerned about the larger injury.

Even without being in the room, Wanda knows that Rumlow was close to you when he shot you. She’d expect nothing less from a man who in the past had always tried to do the most damage possible. The wound has bled profusely and you’ve turned sickly pale and it’s making Wanda nervous. She feels your pulse and is only worried further by how weak it is. Wanda doesn’t realize she’s crying until one of her hands finds yours and she squeezes it tightly.

“Please be okay. Please, please, Y/n I need you to be okay.”

The ride to the hospital seems too long, and she just watches you breathe for the entire time that is in reality only about ten minutes. When the car comes to a stop, Wanda jolts slightly before she gets ready to help move you. Bucky stops her short though telling her that someone will be out to grab you in a minute. She doesn’t get a chance to tell him that she’s not waiting when a door opens nearby and four people come running out of it. One’s pushing a gurney while the other two have various medical supplies in hand and the one in the front has something on a clipboard.

Wanda helps Bucky lift you out and you’re quickly deposited on the gurney and taken inside. Bucky and Wanda follow as the one nurse starts taking notes.

Wanda barely hears what she says, but later as she’s watching you get stabilized and then wheeled off to surgery, she’ll remember the words. Female, early 30s, gunshot wound to the abdomen with stab wounds to the back.

What really sticks with Wanda though when she’s standing next to Bucky in your room with the nurse, is the question she asks last.

“Any other health concerns we should know about?”

Wanda can’t think of any to save her life, and it’s after a prolonged pause that Bucky says two words that shoot through Wanda like lightning.

“She’s pregnant.”

Steve was just returning from making sure Vision’s body was taken care of when he gets a call from Nat. Apparently Rumlow had been working with someone who posed as a client from at your work to kidnap you. You disappeared and Bucky, Nat and Wanda were all going to look for you. He’d been put in charge of calling the police and filing a report against the vet assistant at your work who had helped him. You weren’t conscious to tell them the name, so he’d given the name of the clinic and then the lead doctor’s phone number for them to investigate further.

It wasn’t until he heard that you had been shot and Rumlow was dead, that Steve left the compound. It was getting late and he knew that he had to get someone to take care of Rumlow, but he left that be for a few minutes as he called Bucky.

“Steve hey.”

Steve can tell that his friend is tired and stressed just from those two words and he fears the worst as he listens to what Bucky has to say.

“How is she doing?”

Apparently, you were in surgery and it wasn’t going well at all. You had lost a lot of blood and you were at risk of kidney and brain damage if your blood transfusion didn’t work fast enough. They hadn’t heard word on anything else yet and Wanda was appropriately beside herself at the uncertainty of the entire situation. The doctors hadn’t committed to an answer on your prognosis at this point and the only thing they had told Wanda was that you’re likely to lose the baby, if you haven’t already.

Steve falls back against the driver’s seat with a curse at this news. He feels horrible about the possibility that you and Wanda, all of them really, were so excited about this only to have it ripped away so soon after. He can’t imagine how Wanda’s feeling and he tries to think of what their options are.

“Has anyone contacted Pietro?”

He and Bucky were usually on the same page and he claims to have already called him and he’s on his way.

“I’m worried about her, Steve. She’s just been sitting in silence and staring off into space. She’s not even crying.”

Steve frowns at this because he’s seen Wanda get emotional before. He’s seen the entire spectrum of positive and negative emotion from the redhead. When she was distraught, she could behave similarly to how she did when they confronted Vision. She would scream in anger and resort to violence if necessary. Steve had only seen Wanda like she is now a couple of times. The first was when the Maximoff parents had died and Wanda and Pietro became orphans. The second time was when Pietro had gotten into a horrible car accident and almost died.

This had been while you and Wanda were married and luckily, you’d been there to help her through it. Steve hopes that Pietro will be enough to get her through this. Luckily Bucky says he’s not too far away that he should get there before him. Steve decides that since you’re still in surgery, and most of the family is flocking to the hospital, he’s going to grab dinner to bring to them. Despite appreciating his presence, Wanda really needs her brother, or you. Honestly, she needs both of you right now and Steve just prays that by tomorrow she’ll still have the two of you.

Wanda’s sitting in a private waiting room staring at the wall across from her. She’s been doing this for close to two hours since you went to surgery, and the only interruptions have been from nurses that have stopped by periodically when there are updates. There has only been one real update and it was not a good one, and Wanda’s been silent ever since. She was told that you may not make it. That your body is struggling to deal with the amount of blood you’d lost. The term the doctor used was vaguely familiar to her, you’d know it for sure, but the important part of it is that you’re in trouble. They were doing everything they could, but it was up to you at this point.

The kicker was that not only was she at risk of losing you, but she’s almost certain you’re going to lose their baby. It wasn’t your fault and she wasn’t mad, at least not at you. She was angry at Rumlow and Vision, and if she could kill them again, she would, slowly. However, right now she’s just deeply depressed by the idea of losing you and your unborn child. As horrible as it feels, and Wanda’s been struggling with this for a while, she’d gladly pick you over your baby. She wants kids so badly, but not at such a high price. She wants you more than anything, including kids, and she’ll go the rest of her life just being a cat mom if you make it through this.

Pietro arrives to find an odd sight that starts with his sister. She’s staring at the ceiling now contemplating her life without you and kids, and she’s oblivious to her concerned friends that surround her. They’re equally worried about you and Wanda at this point, as they sit in uncomfortable chairs waiting impatiently for good news that may not come. Bucky’s going between staring at the floor or checking on Wanda. Nat’s looking less worried, but she’s clearly concerned as she watches both Bucky and Wanda and the door restlessly.  She’s petting Boone who is just lying down on the floor whining occasionally. He doesn’t know what’s happened, but he knows that everyone seems tense, and you’re not here, so he’s upset.

Nat spots Pietro first and she sighs in relief before glancing to his sister who’s still spacing out. Bucky jumps to his feet and hugs the blonde before filling him in.

“How’s she doing?”

“They’re both hanging in there, but we could use your help.”

Pietro nods as he moves over to his sister after shooting Nat a smile. He sits down beside her, but its not until he reaches out for her that she realizes he’s there. She jumps slightly before looking to her brother with a frown.

“Sestra.”

He says a few things in their native language, and Wanda responds in a way that tells her friends what she’s saying even if they don’t understand it. She’s still frowning until Pietro says something with a smirk and a suggestive tone. She smacks his arm before rolling her eyes and leaning into the older Maximoff’s shoulder with a sigh.

“I’m tired, Piet. Tired and worried. I feel like I failed.”

Pietro knows this without her even saying it because he knows his sister well. She’s blaming herself because she let you go back to work, and someone somehow slipped by Bucky and took you. There’s a lot to be upset about, but it’s no one’s fault but Rumlow’s and Vision’s. He’s glad that they’re both dead, but he would have liked to participate in that. Still, he focuses his attention on his exhausted sister who’s only minutes away from falling asleep on him.

“You know what Y/n would say about this, don’t you?”

There’s no response despite having heard what Pietro says. Wanda just doesn’t have the energy to argue with him right now. She’s convinced that she should have done more and by not doing so, by letting you go back to work, she let this happen. As if Pietro can hear her thoughts, he shakes his shoulder to get her attention. Wanda scowls in annoyance and sits up to glare at her brother, but he beats her to it with a pointed look.

“Wh-?”

“She’d look at you like this, and tell you to shut up and you know it.”

Wanda sighs as she starts to cry at the thought of you saying this exact thing to her. You do it occasionally, when Wanda’s really stressed for no reason and you’re trying to convince her to calm down. It’s reserved for special cases, and this would certainly be one of them. Despite how it initially annoyed her that you did this, she would love to hear this from you right now. Even if she doesn’t believe it.

Wanda nods as she wipes her eyes and rests her head back on her brother’s shoulder. She sighs heavily as she looks to her brother and then her friends who are watching the exchange between siblings.

“I know. You’re not wrong.”

Pietro laughs at this before he just shakes his head and leans against Wanda with a smile.

“That’s the closest you’ll get to saying I’m right, isn’t it?”

Wanda rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it as she closes her eyes and takes another deep breath. She smiles slightly before looking around the room at her friends. She sighs again before offering them a grateful look. She feels bad that she’s ignored them for so long while she’s been stuck in her head. She’s sure they are worried about you as well.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t thank you guys for finding her. I really appreciate it.”

They both just nodded and were about to speak up when there’s a knock on the door. Wanda immediately sits up and Bucky straightens up as well when the door opens to reveal someone in a white coat.

“Mrs. Maximoff, your wife’s out of surgery.”

Wanda stands up to meet the doctor in the middle of the room with a concerned look. She needs to know how you are doing. She assumes that he would have led with the bad news if you hadn’t made it. That said, she’s been hard-pressed in the past to find medical doctors that she’s liked. Maybe she was just picky, and she held everyone to higher standards than was typical. For this reason, she wishes she could have gotten you to the compound and Dr. Palmer.

“How is she?”

The brunette in front of her frowns slightly and Wanda feels her heart rate pick up. Pietro gets up and comes to stand next to her, but she barely notices as she’s waiting anxiously for the doctor to speak up.

“She’s still not in the clear yet, but let’s give her time before we talk any further about prognosis.”

Pietro cringes and Nat shoots the doctor a glare as Wanda stares at him in shock. Bucky crosses his arms and shoots the brunette a disapproving look, but he says nothing as Pietro speaks up. Wanda’s still trying to figure out how someone told her that you’re still not guaranteed to make it, but that he doesn’t care to discuss it at the moment.

“She’s not in the clear. Can you elaborate on that?”                                              

Wanda’s already trying to figure out how to get you out of here and to the compound by the time the doctor dares to sigh. He might be tired, he might be annoyed, but it’s not appreciated by anyone in the room. Wanda tilts her head to listen to the doctor’s explanation and her faith in him continues to drop with each passing second.

“At the end of surgery, she wasn’t doing well, so she was put into a medical coma to give her time to recover.”

Pietro stares at him incredulously while Wanda contemplates how to kill this brunette in the most painful way possible. She wonders where this guy came from and why they weren’t seeing their regular doctor. She’ll have to ask about this soon. Nat stands up and Wanda realizes that she needs to speak up or else someone’s going to get punched.

“Is she stable right now?”

This question seemed to be more complicated than Wanda intended and the brunette just frowns as he thinks about it for a moment. Wanda’s lost patience at this point however and she’s speaking again before he can respond.

“Assuming that she’s able to stay on the same medications/treatments, would she be at risk if she went for a 30-minute drive?”

The uncertainty on his face was enough to cement Wanda’s decision and Bucky seems to know where she’s going with this as well, and he grabs his phone in preparation. Pietro is also understanding what Wanda’s getting at and he prepares to follow his sister as she storms out of the room.

“I suppose. I wouldn’t advise it, but I doubt she’d decompensate.”

That’s all Wanda needs to hear and she nods before shooting the doctor a displeased smile.

“Thank you doctor, we’ll take it from here.”

Pietro and Wanda head for the door, the former on the phone to call Dr. Palmer, while Nat and Bucky stay back to organize a pick-up team. Wanda’s going to get you out of here and under the care of someone that she trusts as soon as possible. She ignores the doctor’s protests and follows the hall to the first person she finds.

She asks where you are and she’s shown to your room immediately. She stops in the doorway when she spots you and it takes her a moment to move again. You’re hooked up to a lot of different machines and you’re still too pale for comfort as she walks further into the room to see you. Your breathing is slow and deep like you’re asleep, and she takes a deep breath before reaching out for you with a small smile.  

“Hi detka, we’re going to get you out of here, okay? I’ll get you taken care of.”

Wanda squeezes your hand and just kneels at your bedside not bothering to get a chair. She sighs as she listens to your monitors and closes her eyes to try and take a breather. She vaguely hears her brother get off the phone and walk towards her, but she doesn’t pay him any mind until he starts talking. She looks up when she feels a hand on her shoulder, and she sees Pietro smiling at her.

“Christine will be waiting for us when we get there. She’ll be safe and away from that ass.”

Wanda can’t help but smile at this and she nods before standing up to hug her brother. She always gives him shit for being obnoxious and egotistical, but she knew it was really a front and that the blonde wasn’t like that. He was protective, caring and dedicated to his family above all. She loved him an embarrassing amount and she was glad that he was here with her.

“Thank you, Piet.”

By the time they all get to the compound, Dr. Palmer is already there waiting with Dr. Hale, and a few others who have been briefed on what happened to you. The team had already been in touch with the doctor you’d been treated by and they had everything they needed to know. Wanda walks in and watches you get hooked up to everything, but she’s distracted by a hand on her shoulder.

“Wanda, I’m so sorry. “

Wanda turns into the touch and sees Christine shooting her a sympathetic look. She’s pulled into a hug by the other redhead and she sighs as she allows herself to relax. You’re going to be well taken care of now, and she trusts her expertise more than anyone else’s in the field.

“Thank you, Christine, and thank you for helping.”

She nearly rolls her eyes at the younger redhead but she ends up just scoffing before waving her off. She can tell how rattled Wanda is and instead of addressing this and making her more nervous, she focuses on you and your care. She’d called your doctor and asked for all of the information he had, and after going through his surgery step by step, she determined that you were treated appropriately.

“Of course. I want you to know, that despite being an ass, Dr. Frick did all the right things.”

Wanda begrudgingly accepted this with a frown and she turned back to see that you were all set up. You were still undisturbed by the hustle and bustle around you, and Wanda was at least grateful that you didn’t seem to be in pain.

“That’s good to hear at least.”

Christine nods before looking over to you and then turning back to Wanda with an apologetic look.

“He’s smart, but unfortunately his bedside manner leaves a lot of be desired.”

Wanda actually laughs at this because it’s certainly true, and she thinks about how you’d feel about all of this. You didn’t like a good number of medical doctors that have treated you and you certainly wouldn’t have liked this one. This thought makes Wanda think of the last time you both were at the doctor and how disappointed you’d been to find out you weren’t pregnant. Felling this familiar disappointment again causes Wanda’s frown to deepen.

Realizing she’s distracted, Christine turns to Pietro before doing her best to make the redhead relax.

“We’re going to take good care of, Y/n, okay? I’ll let you know as soon as we know more.”

Despite insisting that she wasn’t going to leave your side, and that she was going to spend the night next to you in the hospital, Wanda finds herself back in her rooms. She’s since reunited with Boone who was confused and upset about his mother’s absence. He didn’t understand what was going on, and Wanda wasn’t in the mood to coddle him. She lies down on the bed before thinking about how fucked up things had gotten in the past week.

Vision was dead.

Rumlow was dead.

You were fighting for your life in a hospital bed.

All of this because Vision was a jealous, vindictive person who couldn’t let go of the idea of winning her over.

She becomes furious at the thought of everything he’d put you through this week and over the years. She thinks back to what you said about Vision harassing you without her knowing, and she wants to kick herself for not mentioning it to him. She’d been so distracted by everything else going on that she’d forgotten to address it, and now it was too late. Sure she supposed he was dead, and he wouldn’t be able to lie to you anymore. However, as far as Wanda was concerned, he hadn’t been punished nearly enough for what he did to you, but she was just going to have to live with that. She sighs heavily before she looks around the room and sees Boone staring at her from where he’s lying down on the ground. She shoots him an equally sad look before she pats the bed next to her.

“Come here, boy.”

She waits as he rounds the bed before jumping into your spot quickly. Wanda usually doesn’t let him in bed, but tonight she’ll make an exception. She doesn’t want to sleep alone right now, and Boone is the closest she’ll get to being with you at the moment. She waves him closer and he ventures across the bed to lie down next to her. He places his head on her shoulder and licks her face which makes her smile despite how gross it is.

“Thanks, Boone.”

She’s thinking about when Boone will be able to see you again when she falls asleep a few minutes later. Wanda wakes up the next morning despite being exhausted because her phone is ringing. She didn’t hear it at first. It was Boone who sat up and started to nudge her before she realized someone wanted her attention. She reached out blindly for her phone and checked the caller ID. It’s her brother and she almost considers not answering it, but then the sound of knocking motivates her enough to press the call button.

“Piet?”

“Hey, let me in. I brought you something!”

Wanda sighs in defeat and watches as Boone runs to the front door to greet the other Maximoff. She doesn’t bother with a change of clothes and heads to the door in whatever she put on yesterday with a sigh. Boone’s pawing at the door and she just nudges him out of the way so she can let her brother in.

She’s not expecting to see him there with a cake and a bottle of booze, and she just stares at him as he walks through the doorway.

“Piet, what are you doing here?”

He just smiles at her as he turns around and gestures to the items in his hand. Wanda can’t read what the cake says, but it has blue icing that spells something. She decides to worry about that later and watches as Boone greets her brother while sniffing the cake in his hand.

“I brought you breakfast.”

Wanda follows her brother to the kitchen where he sets down the cake before handing her the alcohol. It’s her favorite drink that she doesn’t have much because not only is it crazy expensive, close to $10k for a bottle, but it makes her very drunk, very quickly. The few times she had it with you had been predictably wild. She eyes the bottle with longing because she’d love to have some now, but it is only 8 in the morning, and you’re still sleeping in a hospital bed.

“Thanks, Piet, but isn’t it a little early? I should probably check on Y/n first.”

He knew that Wanda was going to say that, but he’d already checked on you and you were the same. He mentions this before deciding that he needs to tell her the truth. He suspects that Wanda already knows, but telling her now that it’s certain is something that she needs to hear so she can start to process it.

“I just came by from checking up on her. Christine told me a couple of things to pass to you.”

Wanda frowns as she looks away from the bottle that she’d taken from her brother. She sets it down on the counter and waits for Pietro to get to the point.

“What did she say?”

Pietro pulls out two of the stools at the counter and sits down before gesturing for his sister to sit. She does and she tries not to get too nervous when Pietro sighs again.

“She told me that Y/n probably needs to be asleep for a week before waking her up. She wants to make sure that she’s healthy enough.”

Wanda sighs in defeat at the thought of this. She hates that you’re so hurt and that you are in a coma. Mostly she hates that she couldn’t stop it from happening. She just wants to have you with her again, to hold you close, but she knows you need to get better. She needs to give you this time to get better despite how much she wants you awake right now. She nods in agreement because she’s not going to do anything to compromise your recovery. She’ll make do.

“Okay, what else?”

Pietro hesitates and that’s all Wanda needs to realize this isn’t good news. Not that the last bit was exactly good, but she could at least live with that. She waits as her brother finds the words to confirm her second worst fear.

“She also confirmed that Y/n is no longer pregnant.”

Wanda doesn’t respond immediately and Pietro watches as her face falls and he sees a blip of sadness before the mask is up. Wanda just shakes her head before she looks away and tries to find a distraction. It works about as well as she thought it would, and by the time she spots Boone nearby she already has tears in her eyes. She hates this. She hates it so much, and she wants to scream and hit someone, but there’s no one here but her brother.

She also knows that it won’t make anything better in the end. She might feel good for a few seconds, but the end result will be the same. She’ll feel defeated, cheated and angry for the two of you. She wipes her eyes, watching as Boone comes up to put his head on her leg with a whine. She pets him, not noticing as Pietro stands up and grabs a glass for his sister.

“I’m sorry, sestra.  I know you and Y/n were excited.”

Wanda can only nod with a sad look as she takes the offered glass with a very large shot poured into it. She doesn’t drink it immediately. She looks to Boone who’s practically in her lap now before she takes a sip, not the whole thing because she doesn’t want to get drunk quite yet.

“I had a feeling. I hate to say this and make it all about me, but I--.”

Wanda trails off as she shakes her head with a heavy sigh. She doesn’t want to say this out loud. Even though she’d decided in the hospital yesterday, she still felt bad about admitting that she was more worried about you than your baby. She could live without a kid, but she wasn’t sure if she could live without you.

Pietro frowns as he reaches out for his sister’s glass to take it from her. She doesn’t seem to notice, but her hand’s shaking so badly, Pietro’s worried she’ll drop it. He sets it down before looking back to her sister who’s lost in thought.

“What is it?”

Wanda considers shaking her head and taking it back. She doesn’t want everyone to know this, and her brother is a bit of a loud mouth. That said, with something this important, he might actually be able to keep a secret.

“It’s horrible, and I hate that she lost the baby, but I care about her first and foremost. I need her to be okay. I don’t need a baby.”

Pietro nods at this and is about to tell his sister that he understands when she speaks up again. She’s starting to really worry about how you’ll react when you wake up. Will you remember everything? Will you get angry at her? She has no way of knowing and that’s stressing her out, and she hates that it’s overshadowing her fear of you not waking up at all.

Wanda doesn’t realize she’s crying again until Boone jumps up on her as she’s wiping her eyes. She pushes him back down before she turns to face Pietro. He’s already standing up and Wanda meets him for a hug as she starts to cry harder.

“I just –I don’t want her to be mad at me.”

Pietro sighs as he holds his sister tightly. He’d considered this briefly as well when he’d thought about what had happened to you. He’d known about the tracker because he’d actually suggested it when you’d first gotten hurt by Wanda’s enemies. You’d been unconscious and he’d joked about putting one in you to be able to find you if this happened again. He hadn’t realized his sister took him seriously until he asked about it a little later.

“I know you don’t, but honestly Wanda she’s not going to be happy. She might be annoyed for a while, but you know how much she loves you. She’ll get over it. You honestly just wanted to help her, and you did. You found her a lot faster than last time.”

Wanda thinks about this and despite her brother’s sound logic, she knows that she won’t be able to stop worrying about it until she talks to you. She just hopes that you feel the way that Pietro says you will.

It’s a very weird feeling being conscious of your unconsciousness. Your entire body aches and you’re glad you’re lying down because you doubt you could even hold yourself up. You’re sore and you can’t remember what happened to you immediately. You’re going in and out of consciousness when you hear people around you start talking. Their voices are muffled and you definitely don’t recognize them as you try to fight your fatigue. Sometimes you want to wake up, and other times you wish you were in a deeper sleep. You feel pangs of pain every now and then in your abdomen, and that’s how you remember what happened to you.

You remember getting shot and then it’s all a blur after that. You don’t remember anyone coming to rescue you, and you don’t remember how you ended up here. Still, you hope that Vision and Rumlow are dead, and that Wanda’s okay. You hope that she’s not too worried or too mad at you.

You miss her. A lot. You wish you could be with her and Boone and the rest of your family instead of stuck in this bed. You wonder why she hasn’t visited you yet. How long have you been here?

You don’t realize that when you dream of Wanda visiting you a little later, it’s not a dream at all.

Wanda and Boone head down to medical to visit you later that afternoon. She’d gotten drunk with her brother before sleeping it off and deciding that she’d avoided you for long enough. It wasn’t right to ignore you when you were bedridden because of her own fears. She just had to believe that if you did get mad at her, you would forgive her.

Boone’s sniffing frantically as he follows Wanda down the hall to your room. She can tell he’s looking for you, and it makes her heart break a little at the idea of him not understanding what’s going on, or why you’re down here yet again. She ignores the looks she and Boone get as she comes up on your room. She grabs Boone’s harness before telling him to sit, and despite realizing he’s found you he does as he’s told before looking to the rest of the people in the room.

She steps into the room to greet the nurses and the one doctor she recognizes. She’s still a little drunk she thinks because it takes her a solid three seconds to come up with her name, but she uses her time to think watching you sleep.

“Dr. Hale, how are you?”

Wanda looks away from you because she knows you’re about the same as last time. If not, she’s sure your doctor will tell her otherwise. She watches as the blonde smiles slightly before claiming that she’s been busy but she doesn’t mind it. She then looks to you before telling Wanda how you’ve done overnight.

“She’s been stable overnight. Nothing really new to report luckily.”

Wanda supposes this is good news and she’s about to nod in agreement when she hears Boone whine from the doorway. Dr. Hale turns first and Wanda sighs before she shoots the doctor an apologetic look.

“Sorry, he’s just been restless without Y/n. I just wanted him to see where she was.”

She nods in understanding because she knows how upset her cat gets when she leaves for too long, and she imagines it must be worse for a dog. She turns to Boone before waving to him and patting her leg in a ‘come here’ motion.

“I understand. Hi Boone. Do you want to come in?”

Boone practically runs into the room and Wanda smiles as he nudges Taylor’s offered hand with his nose before running over to you. He’s tall enough to see you but he tries to jump up on your bed. However, Wanda sees it coming, and she stops him with a frown.

“No buddy. No jumping.”

Boone whines but he doesn’t try to jump again as he licks your hand before nudging it with another whine. He moves your hand so it’s on his nose before he just sits next to you and leans into the bed. He looks very uncomfortable, but Wanda just lets him be for a moment before she takes a closer look at you. As she moves towards your bed, Dr. Hale shoots a pointed look to the nurses and they just nod before heading for the door. The blonde follows behind them with one last look as she leaves the trio alone.

“I’ll give you privacy. Let me know if you need anything.”

Wanda thanks her before she looks around the room for a chair. She sighs as she spots one on the other side of the room. She grabs it and sits next to Boone by your side with a groan. She really shouldn’t have drunk all of that this morning, but she’s honestly just wanting to sleep. She holds your hand before kissing it with a smile.

“Hi Y/n. I should apologize to you. For a lot of things.”

She stops as she looks to Boone who’s putting his paw up on the bed next to you, but not attempting to jump up. He’s watching Wanda though because he knows he’ll get in trouble if he does it, but he can’t help but want to.

“I shouldn’t have put all the pressure on you when we decided we wanted to have kids. I know you volunteered, but it put a lot of unnecessary stress on you and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it. I want you to know that I’d rather have you over kids any day. So, I need you to wake up soon, detka.”

Wanda wipes away her tears before she takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand. She touches your cheek glad to at least feel that you’re warmer than the last time she saw you.

“I know I should have told you about the tracker. It wasn’t right to do it without your consent. I apologize, and I’ll do whatever I have to, to make it up to you.”

She sits next to you in silence for a while before she decides that she needs to leave you soon. If she’s doesn’t, she’ll stay here for the rest of the day just watching you sleep and quickly getting more anxious. She knows this is just day one for you, and that you have a lot of time to go before you’ll feel better, let alone wake up. She needs to give you time to recover, and she knows hanging out here all day will be bad for everyone. She’ll be in the way, and she’ll become more depressed with each passing hour. So after about an hour of sitting with you and talking to you about what’s transpired since you were awake, she decided to leave. She thought about it a lot last night, and after drinking with her brother this morning she’s decided to pay Strucker a visit. She wants to see if he knows about or played a part in Rumlow’s involvement in Vision’s plot. She kisses your forehead before standing and returning her chair to its original place. She turns to Boone who’s still resting next to you before waving him along.

“Come on Boone. We can visit again later. We’re going for a drive.”

It takes a little more than that and a tug or two to get Boone to follow her. He whines a lot, but he eventually leaves you and follows Wanda to the elevator. She can already tell he’s moping but she’s hoping a ride in the car will make him feel better. She checks in with Bucky and then Steve to tell them of her plan, and she’s not surprised that they’re both a little caught off guard by her sudden interest in Strucker.

Nevertheless, Bucky agrees to hang out here and keep an eye on you while Steve gets ready to accompany Wanda. She’s not going to bother calling. She’s hoping that he’ll be exactly where he usually is, and after getting changed and loading Boone into the car, she sets off to find Strucker.

Taglist: @whitewidowsbite, @exclusivitymajor, @natswifeysblog15, @the-mute1

Part 11

[originemesis]

@micsmasmuses cont. from xxx

“I’m the mood murderer sure” he gives him a critical look as he speaks before shaking his head. He pinches the bridge of his nose as Adam makes it about his dick again, does he tell him where they’re going? Maybe he should just leave it as a surprise now. “You’re disgusting” he sighs softly as he looks back up at him. But he still feels bad for the guy. Nothing has gone his way since Eden, most being his fault but this wasn’t him. This was just well… people leaving the first man behind again. “Yes I know what she is and what you two do. You talk about fucking all the time am I not supposed to think it’s her?” He gestures vaguely at him with a raise of his brow. But his look changes as he sees that look on Adam’s face. Now he feels even worse. Glancing to the stupid mask his nose twitches in disgust before looking back up at him. Another hand soon coming up to caress the other side of his cheek once his hand moved away. Hes not leaving… not now.

“It’s called having feelings… but nothing is wrong with you, people just don’t have good taste” he says as his hands soon land on his shoulders. Debating something before finally pulling the taller male into a tight embrace. He could easily get out of it if he wished but he keeps him close for just a bit. Something he did with Charlie when she was feeling down, something he still did. Another way for her to cry without being seen. Something to admit to each other. “Wanna know something stupid?” He asks him softly.

"So what? You're always bringing my exes up like it's the only level 1 crossword puzzle you know how to fill out." He'd snapped back, though the sound of his teeth hitting sounded a bit off without that equalizer inside the helmet helping him not only mask his looks, but also the very sounds he was capable of making. Hell, it even acted as a buffer against the very real differences between the soundwaves of omnipotent beings so that the constant exposure up there didn't leave him anymore addled than he already acted. "Sides...if she's not- that, 'just means I don't have to care so much about what she gets her cunt caught on tonight-"

But he still would of course. She was part of his flock, and they'd flocked together so much at this point that the others would likely appear out of portals of their own in the golden spirit just to come pigeon mob the mimic of a man before him if he so much as raised the right pitch. And he was very close to it out of instinct- but the involuntary quaver of sound that caused the cave-in of his vocal chords for the brief hiccup of a moment put a stop to it, his will to raise an alarm sent spiraling where it would sit stuck at his wet and sticky and possibly rotten core.

"Sounds made-up." The interject of an explanation was met with a side-spat scoff, but pressure on his shoulders snapped his gold-gilded and less guarded attention back- just not in enough time to make his company really second guess cracking the First Man's back some in the process of yanking him into a huddled over position, a mix between a protesting squawk of a sound and a stealthily held snivel spilling out of him in the process. Whatever glass had gathered in his eyes earlier shattered only after he'd been hurriedly hunkered down and scooted in no different than some emperor penguin would an exposed chick. Gross...he thought- about the concept of feelings the other was trying to spin him like he had on so many other things back in the day- back in the garden. That and, well...the very clear bit of glowing spit and snot mixed partially into the fabric of Lucifer's shirt after he'd taken a brief moment to rub his face inwards against it. While it wasn't great at fully clearing up all the telltale stains on his face, nor the fired up glow of freckles, it had served as a place to deposit a shuddery sniffle. Went and smothered it, really until he sort of felt like for a second the mask still swinging at his side was latched back into place.

His wings tucked under his arms, now trapped in the embrace give an uncertain flutter, but otherwise remain bolted as he deposited more attempts at even-ing his breath into the muddled must of the other's coat opening.

"...if you're gonna just say me, then no."

He grumbled, but didn't pause particularly long before he'd relent a sigh and a softer.

"-what is it?"

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 8: In Which I Everyone Can Just Fuck Off

Lemme tell ya, I needed an easy day today. Not quite a rest day as, to be honest, I really hadn't seen a lot of Seville thus far and I really wanted to, but a nice relaxed day doing a small, light walk around the city sounded like just the ticket.

I got up (at a vaguely respectable time and everything), hurled myself down my bunk bed ladder, which it is possible to descend gracefully, quietly and painlessly, but you're only allowed to pick two and set about constructing a walking/cultural tour of the city, a la Larry.

As it turned out, I actually *had* seen quite a lot of the city on the previous days excursion. A huge amount of the “what's worth seeing in Seville” entries on various websites were ones I had either passed yesterday or was incredibly close to passing, almost without exception. The interesting, touristy places seemed - quite easily - all crammed into one little segment of the city. That'll make a nice easy walk, surely? *Surely?!*

I pieces a route together - an hour and a half long, by Google's estimations, which I had, over the past two days, begun viewing with a not insignificant degree of suspicion. That would be fine. Wouldn't it? *Wouldn't it?!*

I set out into the city, again opting to use the subway rather than face walking for hours in the rain and mud and the wrath of “that” donkey…, hoping that it would be substantially less busy than it had on constitution day, yesterday. It wasn't. It was more busy if anything. Great.

This proved to be a theme of the day - Seville is just…busy, I think. I'm here in December and it's still mobbed; I shudder to think how crammed full of dullards it would be in the summer months.

The day was hot and I was sweaty and tired. I possibly had a stomach bug, a sinus infection and definitely had hurty bones. The last thing I wanted was to drown in a sea of tourists, but here I was: drowning. 

I understand that when you go to tourist attractions, there will be tourists - I'm not an idiot - but god damn, I really didn't expect this many people, especially in winter.

Go home, idiots.

I walked, first, through an okay, if incredibly busy park

This is like the one moment I got to myself the entire day

Then on to the city’s cathedral, which really defined the term “incredibly busy” for me

Hey, neat! I hope you all choke.

Before toying with a visit to the Indian archives which was supposed to be quite neat, though had a security guard frisking people at the door, which I would hate on days that weren't shaping up to be a sweaty, sensory nightmare already, so I left it.

I then stopped to take a very quick picture of the tower of gold

Cool, whatever.

But at this point, I had become tired, hungry and furious; sick to the back teeth of children absent mindedly wandering into my path and herds of fat American tourists, walking five abreast down narrow streets arbitrarily stopping to point their pudgey little sausage fingers at something, or nothing, going “hey, neat”, so I stopped for lunch. Waiting for a space to open up on a riverside wall, for me to sit on, grumbling as I munched through, what it had to be said, were pretty good sandwiches. This too, brought me very little peace as I was immediately beset upon by a gang of very insistent pigeons. I can't even get any space away from the fucking wildlife in this place. Ahh!

Just fuck off!

I tried my best to reset myself with a nice lunch, but sadly, I simply hadn't be able to. I wasn't having fun and so decided to bin the penultimate location of the day, the mushroom of Seville, which was a weird mushroom looking building that you could climb up for excellent arial views of the city, but was twenty minutes walk in the wrong direction, cost three euros to climb and would involve doing lots of stairs. In the bin it goes.

I walked, unhappily, then through the Triana district of the city, which was, shockingly, also very touristy, to get to a nice looking park, named Parque De Los Principes. I arrived and to my genuine delight, the place was all but deserted. I walked into my new fortress of solitude and, for the first time that day, was able to actually relax. I took a deep breath and stretched my crumpling spine out and…was immediately body checked by a lone jogger. Nevermind. I'm going home.

I made my way out of the park, which did involve having to walk through it, which I did begrudgingly enjoy

It's fine.

Straight back onto the tube, on which I did not get a seat, before facing the twenty minute slog back to the apartment, where I stayed, alone and absolutely furious for the rest of the night. They can't all be zingers.

…also tomorrow is going to be spent either on a bus or resting, so it won't be a zinger, either. Deal with it.

[antrel]

Minecraft live was just before I went away for a few days, now I'm back and ready to incoherently rant.

So first up, the mob vote. It's what gets everyone riled up and ready to argue.

While I love to see everyone so passionate about this game, especially this far down the line, that passion is often not channelled in the healthiest of ways. I think it's a nice idea that's implemented incredibly poorly. As it stands we're faced with 3 pretty useless low impact creatures that are all just silly little guys, and I still saw several people wishing things as bad as cancer on anyone who didn't vote their precious favourite into the game (GG penguin supporters, worst I saw from you was threatening to be sad if you lost, hope you're all doing okay). If you genuinely think that someone deserves any amount of pain and suffering because they hold an opinion different to your own, you need to go and see someone about that, that isn't a healthy response.

Now I'm not saying I'm perfect of being completely civil and dignified. I try not to post about it, but glowsquid shouldn't have even come close to a win. Anyone who thinks that was a fair vote, let me just follow me on this one. A very popular online influencer asked all their followers to vote for a specific mob because they thought it would be funny to see everyone else get mad/sad about it. Because it was done on twitter at the time people then voted with every account they could get their hands on, I wouldn'tbe surprised if you told me people made multiple new accounts just to vote. Mojang changed how they held the vote because of that year, you now have to vote via an owned copy of the game, the way it should have always been. Sure people could still try to sway the votes of others or create new accounts, but minecraft isn't free, and the people you know who have a minecraft account are far more likely to have an opinion of their own instead of just letting you vote on their accounts. They've changed the system so that only players get to vote, and generally speaking they only get to vote once. That seems pretty fair to me, but given that the voting system was changed in response to a landslide victory, you'd think they'd have given the losers another chance, a fair chance. And the fact it's taken them this long to even vaguely say that they might add some of the losers one day just stoked the flames. With the old biome votes they asked 'which do you want first' and made sure to let us know we would get all 3 eventually. But before this year, all we'd heard in regards to mob votes was that the losers from the original mob vote would never make it into the game. Making it a much more tense 'who gets to live' situation.

Honestly I don't think that saying we might get some losers back is even a good idea here, it's just going to make people who lost even more vocal and whiny until they get the mob they wanted. Which I get, I really do, but it's not healthy to divide your community and then keep them divided. And I don't think that any of this was intended, the whole point of the vote was to have fun interacting with the community, for the majority of players to get to feel like they contributed something to the game they love and hold dear. Every year the community gets more and more toxic about it, and every year mojang try to figure out how to fix the problem. When they tried biome votes, people only cared about the mobs in them, so they stuck to mob votes. People complained that there was a disproportionate amount of representation to one type of play style, so they made all the mobs little useless passive mobs. People speculated about what mobs might bring to the game and spread that as fact, so they're continuously giving us more solid information and people are still speculating and spreading misinformation. And then people are complaining about it without contributing anything helpful to the conversation. If you're not going to be constructive, just be quiet, it's that simple.

Finally on to the update itself, 1.21 or as I'm currently calling it 'the tinkering update' as that's the word they kept wanting to drive home in their presentation. When I was really thinking about what I wanted next from minecraft, well my response has been largely the same for the past few updates, new structures to adventure in and more importantly, new loot to obtain from structures that you can't get anywhere else. The deep dark did a great job at this, and I loved the updates to almost every structure that we got with the 1.20 update. So where does that leave me on this one? Honestly I'm currently a little let down. Now don't get me wrong here, a replayable dungeon, with unique mobs and cool down spawners and restocking loot is literally what I've been creating in my survival server for my friends to play through, and the breeze gives me so many new ideas and the fact that the new spawners scale for the amount of players around is amazing. But the currently shown rewards just aren't quite there for me yet. Diamonds and emeralds just aren't unique enough for such a fun looking challenge structure, but these are early days for the development and that could just be placeholder loot, I genuinely hope that it is at least. And if these are the rewards you can expect from these spawners, oh boy. Given that tamed wolf kills count as player kills, and wolves auto aggro on skeleton variants, there's an easy way to now make an afk bone, slowness arrow, xp, emerald and DIAMOND farm. AFK DIAMONDS. That doesn't sound healthy for the game at all. I can understand that diamonds are their go to exciting loot, but making them renewable just really pushes things too far for my liking.

I love the look of the new copper blocks, and I'm excited to get a metal door that isn't iron. That being said, you can clearly see a player right click one open in the footage, which disappointed me so much, we already have so many options for doors that work like wooden doors. Copper bulbs are such an interesting concept, with an unknown amount of potential, I'm super excited to see how they fully function when they come to snapshots.

It's nice to get a tile set for tuff finally, it felt so lonely and so niche before. I have managed to shove it into a few builds at this point, mostly as a floor, but I'm glad it's finally getting a use.

Finally, the crafter. Taking the craft out of Minecraft feels quite strange, and yet oddly I'm more excited for it than I thought I'd be, and I think that's down to it's implementation. I've seen auto crafters in modpacks and such and they're either way too easy or way too complicated, none of them felt like minecraft and none of them interacted with redstone in such a unique and interesting way. I mean it's such an interestingly unique redstone tool that I can see it being used at some point (probably not anytime soon) for redstone other than crafting, I can be used to count anywhere between 1 and 9, and then can be instantly hopper drained to count that exact number again, that's gonna be useful to somebody at some point. But for it's main functionality, it's going to become just as core to automatic farming as shulker loaders are, if not more core. Like can you even imagine the amount of unique things you can now afk for. Not just the materials anymore, the whole item. Which farm next to a skeleton or spider spawner, small bamboo farm if it's a spider spawner, afk mining at a cobble generator, and wake up in the morning to more dispensers than you have ever been bothered to craft for yourself. The minecraft industrial revolution is fast approaching and I couldn't be more excited for it. Every players experience is going to become so much more unique as they decide for themselves how far they personally think it's worth going with auto crafting, people are gonna encounter so many interesting challenges as they figure out how to auto craft this new specific recipe. It's such a big change to the way the game is played and experienced, all tucked neatly into a single block.

And for all those complaining that this is a small update, firstly get your head out your ass about a free update that isn't owed to you, but secondly this already revolutionary update is only just beginning. This is the stage of development where we only knew about camels and bamboo, and look what we ended up with. Even if this is all the update has, I'm happy with the features presented, and cannot wait for the upcoming snapshots, so I can tinker with it all myself.

[testingcheats0n]

The three mobs, the advantages and the disadvantages.

Number 1: The Glare

What does it do?

It's a pasive mob that spawns in darkness and growls when in a zone dark enough to spawn mobs.

Pros:

Useful in exploration and some technical plays by (vaguely) detecting light levels.

Cute ig?

Cons:

That's literally it.

Just get a parrot, it detects mobs in a 20³ block (meters) radius, and it's way cuter than a bush.

Weird prop by the anti F3 community. Just don't press the button if you hate it so much- I still need it, piss off. You should be fighting for more F3 in bedrock, not less in Java.

Another shallow addition to the game which already underuses it's items, blocks, mobs and assets.

Others:

We don't know anything about its rarity, its spawn rates or conditions, if it can be tamed or transported safely, etc.

If anything, the technical community that's pushing so hard for it will be sorely dissapointed. Is see this mob as an exploration tool above all. Watch Mojang make it impossible to transport or even find.

Number 2: The Allay

What does it do?

It's a pasive mob that presumably spawns in the Overworld. It's attracted to music blocks and given an item by a player can go out to collect more of the item

Pros:

Brings more of the same item to a music block.

Dances.

A little ghost guy.

Possibly useful with item sorting systems (doubtful).

Can possibly find expensive materials and lost loot.

New, more interactive use for note blocks.

Cons:

It will be ugly as sin, trust me. It's a vex with extra steps, if you think the Mojang can make good-looking ghosts you're wrong.

It's this:

Do you like this?

Are you sure?

Just get a parrot 2.0. For real. A parrot can dance too. They even stole the cookie bit. That or a hopper.

For all we know it only gathers cookies. And for that matter- where does it get them from? Your chests? Is it like cat loot, just randomly generated? It's implied it finds stuff out there, aka you have a chance of getting the items out of thin air.

Possibly slow with little carrying capacity, useful to intense technical players and I live to spite them. A good part of the game is mining and farming and the Allay removes it.

A single purpose. Is one more use for noteblocks worth it?

Others:

How does it spawn, how can it be found, and can it be transported?

Number 3: The Copper Golem

What is it?

A tameable pacific mob, which the player can summon and use for redstone builds.

Pros:

Cute.

Golems are 10/10

Adds new purpose for an already existing block and game mechanics.

Aesthetic, easy to create and transport.

Redstone use, which adds another layer to the redstone system. Versatile and easy to get creative with. Occupies small spaces unlike previous methods.

Lore. Someone build the rusted one in the video.

Cons:

???

I have nothing.

People say the player pressing the button will suffice. I wonder how they got into a sandbox game :|

My ideal scenario?

Mash them up together and give all abilities to the golem. He'll do a funny dance and his eyes will blink in complete darkness, trust me it will be hilarious. Mojang stop blue-balling us, I'm still mad about the piss cow.

[itsthestutterforme]

Don't Pretend (Vincenzo)

Y/N is a very successful civil rights investigator and a friend of Cha-young. Cha-young called her when she needed help building their case against Babel. Chairman Han seo thinks she's a threat, but Jun woo thinks otherwise.

Pairings: Joon woo x reader (romantic), Cha young x reader (platonic), Vincenzo x reader (platonic)

--

I didn't even set foot in my apartment yet and Cha young called me for help. I love her and all but it seems like she's always in trouble with someone. She wants me to meet her at a theater because she wants me to meet someone.

She said it was urgent, so I didn't even stop by for food, so this person better be the President of South Korea or something.

I step out of my vehicle and walk through the entrance to see a swarm of reporters surrounding a group of people. One of those people was Cha young and I spin around on my heel, not in the mood for talking to reporters.

"Y/N!" Cha young calls. "Damn it," I say to myself before turning back around. "You didn't mention there would be reporters," "Surprise," she says.

I shake my head and she shrugs. I look to a random spot outside and say, "Oh my God, is that Jay Park and his new girlfriend? Look over there by the garden!" You point to a random couple that was walking past the garden.

"Jay Park! Where?" The swarm of reporters then went outside towards the garden. I roll my eyes and said, "They're like ants searching for food." I make my way towards the group and Cha young links her arm with mine.

"I missed you," she says and I grumble lowly. "Y/N, this is Vincenzo Cassano. Mr. Cassano, this is my colleague and close freind, Y/N," Cha young introduces.

"Seems like you're far from home, Cassano." I say in Italian, much to his surprise. He raises a brow at me and says, "I could say the same for you. The last I saw you, you were handling business in Siena."

"And you were handling business in Milano. Nice touch with the garden. It was beautiful," I compliment and he smiles. "Thank you, I try."

Cha young looks between me and Cassano and says, "You two know each other?" "Vaguely," I comment. "And who are they?" I add, motioning to the older woman, older man and two young men. "The enemy," Cha young says nonchalantly.

"For enemies, you seem awfully close," "Believe me, we're not," an older woman snaps. "Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm just making an observation." I snark. "Excuse me?" she steps closer to me and Cha young does the same.

"Careful, she hates being touched." Cassano states. "I'm heading back to my loft," I say before giving Cassano and Cha young a nod.

"Who are you?" The older woman asks but there was something about her that urked me. I give her a once over before walking back through the entrance.

--

"She's Y/N Y/L/N, a civil rights investigator and the top in her firm. Not only that, but she has correlations with mafias across three different continents. She has the resources to take us down," Han seo says and a small smile creeps on Joon woo's lips. "Why are you smiling?" Han seo asks.

"She's very accomplished," Jun woo answers. "And it's her accomplishments that scare me, brother." "Don't be. I'll handle her," "Handle her how? Like kill her?" "I don't want to, she seems interesting. But I will if she continues to be a threat to us."

--

I have to get back into the my workouts. I feel like I've put on a little weight while I was in Italy. It's not like I had any choice. Telling Nonna no is like kicking a puppy, no one can do it. Nonna offers you food, you always say yes. That's an unwritten rule that everyone follows.

My sneakers wrap around perfectly around my feet and I could barely feel the ground when I ran through the city park. I always make sure that it was light enough for things to be visible but early enough that there was only a handful of people in the park itself.

I was on my third and final loop when I saw the black van move across the street and park next to the sidewalk I was running on. I stopped to catch my breath for a moment before running in the other direction. I hear a door open and several footsteps run behind me.

I grab the nearest thick branch I could find and wait until they were close enough. I swing the branch as hard as I could, hitting three men in the face. They fell to the ground and I focus on the two guys rushing towards me at once. I duck around one and punched the other in the throat, leaving me with just the one man.

I bring up my guard and shuffle my feet but the man runs in back into the van and drives away. "You okay?" A voice asks from behind me and I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin around and kick his leg out from under him. He falls to the ground and I apply pressure to his chest.

"Relax. I'm not the bag guy here." He strains. "Wait a minute, I know you. You're the-" "A friend of Cha young." He places his hand on my outter thigh and I say, "I wouldn't know if friend is a term I would use. She called you the enemy."

"She was referring to the rest of them," "What ever helps you sleep at night." I finally stand up from his chest and he takes a deep breath.

He stands up from the ground and that's when I notice that he was shirtless. My eyes softly scan the smooth, tanned skin of his pecks. My eyes snap up to meet his and he cocks his head teasingly.

"Speechless?" "I'll never give you that satisfaction," I snark as he steps closer to me so I have to look straight up just to meet his eyes.

The next thing I knew, I am washing off his touch and scent in the shower. Well trying to anyway. Halfway through my shower, he decided to join me and trail his hands down my hips.

I moan softly when he presses my body the cold tiled wall and kisses my neck. He hooks one of my legs around his waist and slowly trails his hand along my inner thigh.

My phone blades, scaring us both. I pull away from him and he says, "Just ignore it." "She's been calling me all day, she already knows that something is up." I walk out of the shower and dry my feet before wrapping a towel around my body.

I answer the phone and Cha young yells, "About time! Where have you been!" "I, uh, I went shopping. There was no food in my refridgerator or cabinets." I answer calmly.

"Don't you have a maid for that?" "I'm not lazy enough to have a maid, Cha young." "Well, you had me worried. I thought someone took you hostage or something." She finally says without yelling.

"You really think they are capable of that?" "They are capable of many things. Be careful, Y/L/N." Vincenzo says in Italian.

"Bene, ciao," I say before hanging up. I turn around to see Joon woo inches away from my face. "Did you enjoy the past few hours?" I ask. He steps closer to me and motions to the scratches on his chest from my nails.

"What do you think?" He says softly. There's just something about him speaking softly that makes my knees buckle. The worst part is, I think he knows that.

"Good, because that's the last time that'll happen." "Do you know how many times I've heard that? And how many crawled back to me?" He says cockily. "Yes, but I'm sure you'll be the one crawling." I say, tapping his chest before walking out of the bathroom.

--

My worst nightmare came true today. One of my closest friends was murdered last night by a rival mob leader. The boss says not to engage them and that he will handle it, and my anger dwindled down to sadness. I took a day to myself and cried my eyes out in my bed.

Goosebumps littered my body as cold chills rolled through. I wince as the cold, damp fabric of the t-shirt grazes over my warm back and I took it as a sign to hop in the shower. Squatting down on the shower floor, I duck my head under the scalding hot water. The water rakes through my hair and trails down my body when I hear the doorbell ring.

I dry myself and slide on some shorts and a sweatshirt Joon woo gifted me in attempt to see me again. It took Joon woo two weeks before realizing that I wasn't going back to him. After wards, he sent me flowers, teddy bears, sweatshirts and a 10k watch that looked like it costed a fortune.

I gave the teddy bears and flowers to random people in the street and the watch to Cha young and the look on Jun woo's face when he realized it was the gift he gave was aboslutely priceless. But I gladly kept the sweatshirts because they were too cute to give up. I walk down the stairs and wipe away my tears before opening the door.

Joon woo stands in the door way and he looked happy about something. But his smile soon falls when he sees that I've been crying. "You've been crying. What happened?" He tried reaching for my face but I slap his hand away. "Stop. Don't pretend like you care about me." I snap but he lunges forward to grab my face.

I take a few steps back and his hold on my face softens. "Of course, I care about you." He says, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. I sniffle and wipe away more of my tears. I always hated crying in front of people, it made me feel weak.

He grabbed the remote and sat on the bed. He pulled himself to the head of the bed and takes me with him. He pulls me between his legs and leans my back into his chest.

He searches through the channels and stopped at a cartoon before wrapping one arm along the clavicle of my neck. He wraps the other across my waist and says, "You don't have to talk if you don't want to."

"Why are you here, Joon woo?" I croak, wiping away my tears. "We won our settlement case and I wanted to celebrate with you." "We're literally enemies," "Isn't that how it always is? Enemies and polar opposites attracted to each other?" He asks and I look up to meet his gaze from behind.

He examines my face as he waits for a response. "I guess that is how it goes, isn't it " I lean on his shoulder and he presses the side of his face against my temple. "I lost my best friend today," I add with a sigh.

[punemy-spotted]

Okay I’m not sure this is quite what you’re looking for, but talk to me about how TPYP Steve and Andy would lean into the energy of the other to try and win over Reader. Like, how would Steve be a little softer and good? And how would Andy be a little darker and manipulative? 😳😘❤️

Siri! This is also exactly what I'm looking for! Thank you for feeding my hoe brain — you know I love diving into the psyches of these two men.

This is going to be DEEPLY spoilery but I will try to keep things vague as I talk about this, but! For the sake of those who may or may not want to read the thoughts, it's under a cut.

✨ Please Send Me Mob Thoughts ✨

Steve has never quite considered himself to be "soft" or "good" by any means, and he does resent Counsel a bit for how she's destabilized him. Both his empire and him emotionally. She haunts him, but there's a reason he gives in to her more these days — he's truly afraid of watching her wither in the cage he put her in. The door remains open in the almost vain hope that she'll fly back to him, perch herself on his shoulder and realize she could be free here too, with him. But if there's one thing he's learned in the aftermath of the contract and his failure to complete, it's that words will rarely smooth over a cut this deep. So he lets her go. He knows more about Andy and Andy's dealings than Reader does, knows that Andy's web has to unravel eventually. And he plans to be there when it does.

Andy has been playing the game for longer than Sunshine knows. When you're friends with hounds like Pierce, it's easy to make yourself look safe compared to gnashing teeth and hungry eyes. But politics is cutthroat and bloody, and the blood on his hands is... enough. It might be easy to say he does it all for the love of a woman — because he does, of course he does — but people get hurt in that process. An ambitious journalist made a prize for a dangerous duo. An empire of excess and destabilization in need of an heir. Things are going to be a bit more desperate for Sunshine soon, and he'll be there to "save" her — just like he planned.

After all, who's the one with friends feeding him information in the DAs office, keeping eyes on his Sunshine?

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

Book recs: Similar to but less sad than TSOA

Hello everyone! @lordeteams requested some book recommendations that are not as sad as The Song of Achilles so here we go. I read a lot of books and since 2019 I've kept a running list of what I've read so honestly I'll take any excuse to subject people to my interests🤗 List is below the cut, not in any particular order (except from the first entry which is my current favorite), and includes NA, YA, and adult fiction. If you're curious about the distinction I'll refer you to this (sadly, now-deleted) tweet from Maggie Stiefvater:

One Last Stop (Casey McQuiston, NA): This one is brand new and instantly became a favorite. F/F romance in which August Landry, newly transplanted to Brooklyn, meets Jane Su on her morning commute. Turns out, Jane is stuck on the train and has been since the 70s, but has no memory of how it happened or of her old life. Part romance, part time-travel mystery, but entirely a love letter to queer communities everywhere. Found family trope abounds with August's roommates and coworkers, which include drag queens, people of every flavor of queer, and a real life psychic, all of whom are ready and willing to help solve the mystery of why Jane is on the train and how to fix it. In the process, August learns things about her own family, as well as events in American queer history that few people remember today. I really cannot express enough how much I love this book. Please read it.

Red, White, and Royal Blue (Casey McQuiston, NA): Odds are, if you've heard of Casey McQuiston, it was because of her first book (this one). M/M romance about Alex, son of the first female US President, and Henry, prince of England. Enemies to friends to lovers, featuring queer self-discovery, coming out, PR/corporate closeting (hello, larries!) and just a delight. This is a very different queer story from OLS - OLS is a romance, but more plot-heavy and the romance isn't the entire focus. In RWRB, the romance is the plot and it reads like fanfiction which is very fun.

The Raven Cycle (series, Maggie Stiefvater, YA): This series is a character-driven, coming-of-age, found family story about a bunch of weird-ass teenagers (affectionate), magic, prophecy, and Welsh kings. This is the rare story in which every single main character plays a critical role in the plot and grows and changes with the story. You will fall in love with all of them and their relationships with one another. Plus, the worldbuilding is incredible and has such an intricate mythology that you'll want to reread just to get the details. Followed by the Dreamer Trilogy, of which two books have been published, but I've only read the first one so far.

All for the Game (series, Nora Sakavic, YA): This is the series that got me back into reading for fun five years ago and as such it holds a special place in my heart. The plot is wacky and convoluted - college athletics, a made-up sport, a kid on the run from his mob boss father - but don't let that discourage you. Hella found family. (Are you seeing a pattern?) I will warn you, this deals with some pretty heavy stuff, including torture, abuse, addiction, sexual violence, and more. Here's a comprehensive list of trigger warnings, with detailed descriptions at the bottom. It's intense, but the friendships and romances make it worth the read imo.

Grishaverse (series, Leigh Bardugo, YA): This is actually three series: the Shadow and Bone trilogy, the Six of Crows duology, and the King of Scars duology (which I haven't yet read). If you've seen Shadow and Bone, the S&B trilogy covers the Alina storyline, while SOC covers Kaz, Inej, Jesper, Nina, and Matthias. S&B is a chosen one/coming of age story, while SOC is found family committing heists. It's great.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (Benjamin Alire Saenz, YA): Coming of age M/M romance. Set in the 1980s in El Paso, it describes the friends to lovers journey of Ari and Dante over several years, as well as Ari's journey of self-discovery. It is the most beautiful book and one of my comfort reads. There's some themes of homophobia and violence, but with a happy ending.

Carry On (Rainbow Rowell, YA): This is basically Harry Potter fanfiction, but better because (a) it doesn't take itself too seriously and (b) the author is not a violent transphobe. Seriously, this book is so fun. It's a twist on the chosen one trope because Simon, said Chosen One, is just spectacularly bad at what he is supposedly destined to be. Plus you have an enemies to lovers storyline, which is my personal favorite trope. Followed by Wayward Son, which is literally a road trip AU, and Any Way the Wind Blows, which will be released next month.

The Queen's Thief (series, Megan Whalen Turner, YA): Fantasy series centered on Eugenides, who is very proud of being a great thief but also wants to be famous, two goals which are not really compatible. This series is interesting because every novel is told from a different character's point of view in an increasingly zoomed-out lens such that you're seeing how Eugenides' influence grows over time and space. The setting is vaguely based on the ancient Mediterranean region, but with a mythology all its own.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (Taylor Jenkins Reid, adult): This is a frame story in which aged Hollywood star Evelyn Hugo, famously tight-lipped about her personal life, hand selects a young journalist, Monique Grant, to finally tell her story. Evelyn tells Monique all about her life - how she became an actress in the mid-twentieth century, how she got involved (and uninvolved) with all seven of her former husbands, and who was the true love of her life. There are some sad moments for sure, as it's a retrospective on the very long and very full life of an actress at what she knows is the end of hers. But it's such a good story and worth the bittersweet tones.

This Is How You Lose the Time War (Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone, adult): Sci-fi novel told by Red and Blue's letters to one another across time and space. They are on opposing sides of the Time War and as they perform their respective missions, they leave letters for the other to find. Their letters start out as "I'm coming for you, you better run" but then eventually turn to friendship and then love. Ultimate enemies to lovers. It's a short novel but you'll read it again and again to pick up more details. It's so good.

The House in the Cerulean Sea (TJ Klune, NA): This book feels like a warm hug. Linus Baker is essentially a child protective services worker, overseeing the orphanages housing magical children. He is then assigned to the most remote orphanage in the system, in which six dangerous children reside, to determine whether any or all of these children are capable of bringing about the end of the world. Once more, with feeling: FOUND FAMILY. Also nice because it's a metaphor for queerness that also features canon queer characters.

[fantastic-nonsense]

I posted 2,532 times in 2021

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For every post I created, I reblogged 3.4 posts.

I added 1,647 tags in 2021

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#👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ shit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

the moral of the Bad Art Friend/Kidney Donation story is that if you're going to talk shit about your incredibly obnoxious and narcissistic acquaintance behind her back, you should maybe not steal her recognizable life event for a short story you intend to publish, plagiarize her words, and then gaslight her when she comes around asking for an explanation

Because said obnoxious and narcissistic acquaintance WILL, in fact, recognize that shit and focus all of her time to the point of legitimate obsession making sure you regret that decision

In other news:

2923 notes • Posted 2021-10-06 01:04:43 GMT

#4

STUPENDOUS NEWS EVERYONE

TRUMP’S TWITTER ACCOUNT HAS BEEN PERMANENTLY SUSPENDED

WE ARE FINALLY FREE

3289 notes • Posted 2021-01-08 23:38:13 GMT

#3

SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING ON THE FLOOR AT THIS PHOTO

4835 notes • Posted 2021-10-16 19:55:00 GMT

#2

I really want to emphasize the slightly ridiculous timeline of Bruce taking in children and how funny this has the potential to be re:Dick being the eldest, because I think it's really important that people understand that Bruce basically only has Dick around for like...11-12 years. Dick formally moves out when he's around 19 or 20, and roughly six months to a year later, Bruce picks Jason up. Dick and Jason never live in the same house at the same time, and three years later, Jason dies. So he gets 2 kids over a 15 (ish) year period, which doesn't sound too ridiculous, right?

Except then his adoption tendencies accelerate, because he picks up Tim and Cass within 2 years of each other (and Steph came as a package deal with both of them) and then finds out about Damian 2-3 years after that. Then we've got Duke, who (when you vaguely fit together timelines) enters stage left about 2-3 years after Damian.

So after a 15-year period with two kids, Bruce manages to pick up 4 1/2 others (counting Steph) within the 7-8 years afterwards. The sheer missed comedic potential of Dick being a grown-ass adult and then his dad decides to adopt a pack of kids within 5 years of him moving out is incredible. Dick went from being essentially an only child for his entire life to being eldest of 6, only one of which he's ever actually lived in the same house with, all because Bruce got Empty Nest Syndrome and went "well I raised one child to adulthood successfully. What's another 5 or 6 at the same time?"

7751 notes • Posted 2021-07-18 20:24:32 GMT

#1

In the past 7 days alone: 

Trump election fraud tape where he tries to convince the Georgia Secretary of State to “find him 11,000 more votes” comes out

Warnock & Ossoff win their Senate run off races in Georgia, making the US Senate a 50-50 tie between Democrats and Republicans and giving the Democrats an effective government trifecta

an armed mob incited by multiple GOP officials (including Donald Trump, Ted Cruz, and Josh Hawley) storms the Capitol building, resulting in at least 4 deaths, thousands of dollars of property damage, and the first time the Capitol building has been breached since the War of 1812

2nd impeachment proceedings against Trump are announced while multiple high-ranking government officials publicly urge Pence and the Cabinet to invoke the 25th Amendment

Elaine Chao & Betsy DeVos resign from Trump’s Cabinet

Daily coronavirus deaths in the United States top 4,000 for the first time

Trump gets permabanned from Twitter & tries to use the official POTUS account as a burner, gets immediately locked out, & runs through multiple other apparent burner accounts (which all get suspended). Meanwhile, multiple other social media sites preemptively issue statements that any account he tries to open on their platforms will be instantly suspended

Steve Bannon’s Youtube channel gets taken down

Parler gets taken down from the Google Play Store and Apple gives it 24 hours to enforce content moderation or face removal from the App Store

Rush Limbaugh deactivates his Twitter account

SNL's going to have an absolute field day tomorrow night

30318 notes • Posted 2021-01-09 02:26:14 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[brasskier]

@badthingshappenbingo trope #3 (and this one was actually requested!)

Thank you to the incredible @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde for reading this one over for me!

Trope: Suicide attempt

Summary:  Yennefer's just running a few errands, and doesn't expect to end up talking Geralt's bard down from a rooftop. Jaskier is ready to leap, and doesn't expect a certain mage to interrupt his grand finale. Both of them might just walk away with a better understanding of one another. (Or, a character study in borderline personality disorder.)

TW for suicidal ideation/threats/gestures and reference to self-harm. The descriptions aren’t graphic and he doesn’t actually jump, but this whole fic deals with suicide and mental illness. Be safe y’all <3

Read it on my ao3 or below the cut:

The trip to Tretogor wasn’t supposed to last long. Replenish her stock after the utter disaster that was the dragon hunt, some odds and ends as she came upon them, maybe get absolutely shitfaced and forget the whole thing happened. That was all. And it looked like, for a pleasant change of pace, there weren’t going to be any complications. Errands finished, Yennefer was enjoying a hearty roast at one of the better taverns in the city when she noticed the early warnings of a brewing commotion. First murmurs, then the voices grew louder and more persistent, and then people were pushing outside. She ignored them; a petty barfight was not something she particularly wanted or needed to get involved with. The bar was still stirring, and eventually when she finally shifted her focus off her roast, the tavern was near-empty, only the drunkest of patrons remaining. Even the barkeep was shuffling outside. Clearly, something was happening. Something big. With a beleaguered sigh, she pushed up from her chair and headed out the door.

A surprisingly large crowd greeted her outside, more expansive than the usual clamor around a simple drunken brawl. She approached the barkeep, standing on the outskirts of the mob, and she didn’t even have to speak before the barkeep jerked his head skyward. She traced his gaze to the roof of a towering building casting its shadow over them.

“Poor sod’s gonna jump, I reckon,” the barkeep ruminated, eyes still fixed upwards. In place of the massive beast she fully expected to be perched atop the building stood the figure of a man, trembling at the very edge of the roof. She squinted, an uncanny familiarity settling into her gut.

She mumbled her half-hearted thanks, already pushing through a portal to the rooftop. The man, still frozen in place on the opposite edge, didn’t seem to notice the sudden company, and her uneasiness grew into a sinking dread.

“Jaskier?” she called, tentatively, afraid to startle him. Any last shred of hope that she was mistaken (though the intricately embroidered doublet was hard to mistake) was gone when he jerked his head back to face her. His mouth was agape, an uncomfortable mixture of surprise and disappointment drawn across his features. “What are you doing?”

“The fuck does it look like?” He snapped back. There was more than his usual sarcasm or mock-incredulity in his voice, real and deep-felt anger coloring his tone.

“Don’t do it,” she urged, surprising herself with the tenderness in her own words. “Come on now. Just come down.” Why did she care? The question gnawed in the back of her mind, and she did her damndest to push it aside. She’s a good person, after all, right? She’d do it for anyone, surely. None of Geralt’s not-getting-involved nonsense.

“Fuck off, Yennefer.” He let out a barking laugh, thin and breathy, pitching forward ever so slightly with the force of it. She felt her whole body tense, hands reaching out reflexively.

“Where’s Geralt? What happened?” This was, apparently, the single worst line of conversation she could’ve settled on, because he dropped abruptly to a squat and for a split second she was certain she was about to witness the man’s death. 

“I’m not his fucking keeper.” He was nearly at a roar now, a fever-pitch that sent a shiver down Yennefer’s spine. “Haven’t seen him in a week. Not since— not since—” Though she couldn’t see his face, his eyes fixed resolvedly on the ground below, she could hear the tears cut through his words, his breath hiccuping.

“Shh,” she hushed him. Clearly, something had happened after she stormed off. What, precisely, could wait until later, when he was back on solid ground. “I know. It’s not fair.”

“The fuck do you know about fair?” he scoffed, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around his abdomen against the biting wind. 

“He fucked me over, too.” She should’ve been offended, and she would’ve been if she wasn’t far more concerned with making sure the bard didn’t fling himself into an early demise, which would be decidedly unfair. That sentiment did little to ease him, and withdrew no response. “Fuck Geralt,” she declared, trying again. “Damn brute thinks he can just take as he pleases.”

“And— and then discard you once he’s had his fill,” he mumbled, offering her the slightest glance back, tears glistening against the pink of his cheeks. 

“You’re better than that,” she set forth like a thesis. “You’re — loathe as I am to admit it — talented, bard. People like you. You’ll find plenty of material to write about.” Perhaps an appeal to both logos and pathos would be sufficient, at least enough to get him off the ledge. 

“It won’t be the same.” He frowned tragically over his shoulder at her. “I've lost it all, Yen. Look at me— I'm just a silhouette.”

“That's nonsense. He… you're more than him. He's not everything.” It felt ridiculous to her, throwing yourself off a roof over an argument with a friend. After all, Jaskier had always managed to exist in the spaces between Geralt before; teaching, or penning his next obnoxious ballad, or bedding married women, or whatever it is overgrown manchild bards do. But, then, she'd almost killed herself to restore something she knew she could never get back. So perhaps they were even.

“Look, this is awfully sweet of you, but—” he swept his arm, gesturing vaguely at nothing in particular. “Just let me go. I’m doing everyone a favor.” He turned his attention back to the ground, wind rippling through his hair. “Should’ve done this a long time ago.” She felt her heart skip — a long time ago? This wasn’t just a histrionic reaction to whatever might’ve occurred between him and Geralt; gods knew how long he’d felt like this.

“You know I can’t do that,” she retorted, drawing tentatively closer. “Don’t make me portal you down.” He huffed, waving her off with a trembling hand. 

“Please, Yen.” Realistically, she knew it would be easy to oblige his request. Walk away, pretend not to hear the sickening thud, and carry on. He was only her ex-witcher’s ex-bard, after all. “I always knew it'd end like this. I’m just… I’m glad I even made it past thirty, really.” 

“That’s— I’m not— no, Jaskier. I’m not letting you throw yourself off a roof, for the love of the gods. That’s insane.” She wasn’t sure what was more insane, letting him go, or standing here arguing with him. “You’re going to be real glad when you make it to forty, bard.”

“Am I though, really? This isn’t my first time, believe it or not. And every time I live, or I back out, or I let someone talk me out of it. And I always regret it in the end.” Her mind reeled again — every time? How many had there been? She pushed the thought back.

“You won’t find out unless you get down,” she argued, drawing closer still. He tensed, sensing her presence, hands balling and unfurling repetitively. “Come on. Go to the tavern with me, get something to eat, have a—” she was close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath now “—more drink. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning, and if you still regret it, well…” 

“Fine,” he finally agreed on the tail end of a sigh, turning to fully face her. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” She didn’t like the resolve with which he said those words, but he was agreeing to come down, which at least was a small victory. She’d handle tomorrow when it came around. In the meantime she needed to get them both down. “Or eventually,” he tacked on as she held her hands out, forming a portal back to solid ground. “Inevitably.” The word rang in her mind as she looped an arm around him and led him through the portal. As an afterthought, she summoned a blanket with a flick of her fingers; it was one of those cheap, thin blankets they kept at the inn, but it would do. She tossed it over his shoulders and he dug his fingers into the fabric, drawing it closer around himself.

Once they were back in the tavern, that thin blanket still draped over Jaskier's shoulders and mug of ale held in shaking hands, it was time to talk.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, dragging his thumb up and down the cool tankard, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs. “I’ve caused such a fuss. You must be anxious to get out of here.” He finally glanced in her direction when he felt a hand land on his forearm.

“It’s fine, really,” she insisted, and he couldn’t bear the pity in her eyes. “Now are you going to tell me what that was all about?” He huffed a laugh, looked away again.

“It’s just, you know. Me and my theatrics.” He shrugged, running a hand along his jaw.

“Bullshit.” When, exactly, Yennefer had gotten so good at seeing right through him, he wasn’t sure. But he did know he definitely didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry. I just, I… I get like that, I guess,” he muttered finally, dragging his thumb along the rim of his glass.

“Suicidal, you mean? You just get… suicidal?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow, moving her hand up to his shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess.” He reached blindly, dropped a hand over hers. “When something goes wrong. Someone leaves me again. I just, I fuck up a lot, and I’m no good at dealing with the concequences.” 

“That’s— gods, I know you’re an idiot, but that’s really worth killing yourself over?” She tried to keep her tone light, clipped, maybe a little detached. He was uneasy with the attention, it was obvious, and she was also certainly not ready to admit that maybe, just a tiny bit, she sort of cared about him.

“Geralt, he ran me off,” he mumbled, sinking further into the blanket. “After the hunt, after your fight, he blamed me. For everything, the entire two decades of our, well. I guess it wasn’t friendship.” He chewed at his lip, a nervous habit, anger bubbling below the surface at the thought of that day. “Told me the greatest gift life could give him would be to take me off his hands.” Yennefer balked at him, finally hearing the context of his despair, and she was just about ready to portal right over to wherever Geralt had fucked off to and give him a piece of her mind.

“That’s terrible,” she told him, the best she could really offer. Nothing she could say would undo what’d happened, and nothing could change how much it hurt him. “He really is a bastard.” Jaskier nodded slowly, raised his tankard up in toast. “When’s the last time you ate? You must be starving.”

“Stew would be nice,” he replied quietly, meekly. She haled one of the barkeeps, ordered him a stew, and requested another round of drinks. “It’s not just the fight, though,” he added once the server was gone. “I don’t know how to explain it, Yen. Why I do the things I do, or feel the way I feel. It’s just, it’s all too much sometimes, you know?” She knew. All too well, she knew. She was only just beginning to understand herself, just beginning to feel some semblance of control. He was so young — perhaps not by human standards, but comparatively. 

“I know. It’s hard.” They felt like empty platitudes, like she had no idea how to truly connect with him, and it was frustrating. She wanted to help him, but she wasn’t sure how, wasn’t sure he wanted it. 

“Yeah.” He bobbed his head, picked at the wood of the table. They drifted into silence, neither sure how to fill it, neither sure this was a conversation either wanted to have. The stew arrived, and he picked at it rather than devouring it like he usually did his rations. 

“You know I’m sterile, right?” she finally broke the silence once he’d finished his food and pushed the bowl aside, leaning closer, her voice pitched in a conspiratorial whisper. He nodded solemnly, averting his gaze, watching the light catch in his amber ale. “And you know I’ve gone to great lengths to rectify that, correct?” Another slow nod.

“I know, Yen. I’m sorry, I know you have far more right to be miserable than I do. And here I am, wallowing like a toddler—” She waved a hand to cut him off.

“No, listen, stupid bard. It’s really not about being able to have kids. It’s about the fact that I don’t have a choice, that I’ve never had a choice,” she elaborated, hiking the blanket further up his shoulders as it started to slip.

“I know. And here I am, I’ve gotten everything I wanted. I got to choose; running away, going to Oxenfurt, becoming a bard, traveling. Gods, I followed Geralt to the ends of the bloody Continent for two decades of my life I’ll never get back — but that was my choice.” 

“Would you please let me finish my point, instead of interrupting me to wallow in guilt?” He gnawed at his lip, finally turning to face her. “It wasn’t about being a mother, it was about choice. So this—” she waved her arm dramatically, wondering for a moment when exactly she’d started picking up his mannerisms. “This isn’t about Geralt at all, is it?” After a moment of contemplation, he carefully shook his head. “Then what is it about?” 

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he muttered at the tail end of a swig from his tankard. “I’ve just always been like this,” he said with a sweep of his hand, palm upturned, string-callused fingers twitching aimlessly. Her violet eyes bore into him expectantly, and he felt angry for a flicker of a moment — she was a witch, right? He should be able to just sit back while she delves into the darkest crevices of his psyche, let her root around and not have to struggle to put his life into context and language. “Can’t you just, y’know…” He tugged at his fingers, tilted his head.

“Read your mind?” she finished the question, scooting closer to him, and he felt the hair on his arms rise. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” He nodded, and she pressed her forehead against his, pulling him in close, enveloping him in the lilac and gooseberries he knew Geralt loved so much. He understood why; he felt inexplicably safe, even as the logical half of his brain urged him to pull back. This was all for show, and he knew that— she didn’t need to touch him to read him. Either way, he was grateful to not have to give language to the nameless, that she could just see.

See Jaskier at seventeen, screaming at Valdo from across the courtyard, "if you leave me I swear the fuck to melitile I'll kill myself," knowing he's made this exact threat verbatim so many times Valdo can't believe him, unable to recall what they were even arguing about anymore. When they break up, his mother tells him the first heartbreak always hurts the worst; it hurts all the same every time thereafter.

Jaskier at twenty, slicing thin lines into his thigh for what had to be the millionth time, running out of unmarred skin, witcher/tentative friend asleep somewhere beside him in the darkness. If asked, he’s not sure he’d have an excuse. Sometimes to feel something, sometimes to feel nothing. Either way, this uncertainty is what keeps his wrists clean.

Jaskier at twenty-three, wailing great, hiccuping sobs, shoulders rattling, blind beyond teary eyes. Geralt, gods bless him, doesn’t know what to do, stands arm’s-length away, regards him with uncertainty and pity. They’d fought about something that didn’t matter and he couldn’t remember, and that rage washed over him, red-hot, balled fists trembling at his side. “Get out! Gods, are you thick? Leave, Geralt; I fucking hate you.” But then Geralt listened, because Geralt didn’t play Jaskier’s games, and now there he was, sobbing, babbling, “don’t leave me, I’m sorry, I’ll be better, I can’t lose you, it’ll kill me, don’t go.” Geralt stays; they pretend nothing ever happened.

Jaskier at twenty-seven, at the ashes of his latest burnt bridge, just another failed relationship that feels altogether more like death than separation. Grieving it more like death, too; sobbing until he could do little more than stare at the ceiling and try to breathe, mourning a cemetery of mistakes and a lifetime of failure.

Jaskier at thirty-two, depression blanketing him with the fresh snow, the man he'd tangled up his entire identity in fucked off to the mountains for the winter while he sludged through classes, distracting himself from having to confront the fact that he doesn't recognize his own face in the mirror. Jaskier does exist in the spaces between Geralt, but, sometimes, that Jaskier is a husk.

Jaskier a few days ago, marching back to Oxenfurt because that's all he knows, doubtful Jaskier even exists anymore, the emptiness in his mind unbearable and somehow terminal, altogether certain he's been incompatible with life from the very moment he entered it and resolved to rectify nature's mistake himself. 

Jaskier who, his entire life, has felt everything, too much, all at once. Who's always been led by his heart — and not in the beautiful, Romantic way, but messy, tragic, and uniquely Jaskier. A man so utterly at the mercy of his own mind, drowning in feelings he doesn't have the language to name, his entire being defined not by who he is but what he does and who he loves. 

Jaskier, on a rooftop in Tretogor, itchy feet ready to fling him off the ledge. He'd told Valdo once, in the in-between hours not quite night or morning when everything seems strange and far away, that he knew how he was destined to die. Pressed on, even as Valdo chuckled and called him presumptive, “I'm going to kill myself.” Not today, or tomorrow, but inevitably. He said it not with the certainty of someone who's seen into the future but the cynical resignation of a man who knows no other escape. And Valdo punched his arm, told him not to talk like that, promised it would get easier one day. He hates Valdo now, not that he remembers why, and that day has yet to come.

She pulled back eventually— finally — and swept a shaky thumb over his cheek. He chewed on his lip, staring expectantly with hauntingly wide eyes. 

“Jaskier.” It was barely a whisper, uttered at the end of a sharp exhale, and when violet eyes met his they shone with an uncanny recognition. He wasn't sure what, precisely, she'd seen, but he knew whatever it was had been enough. He'd invited her to the bleakest corners of his mind, and now she regarded him like a lame horse. He ducked his head, but she caught him with a hand on his chin. “You know that's not how destiny works.”

“Hmm?” He wracked his brain to figure what she might be referring to, coming up empty-handed. He didn't have a big, grand destiny like she or Geralt did. He was just Jaskier the bard, Jaskier the one-night stand, Jaskier the disappointment. 

“It doesn't have to end like that. You have a choice,” she elaborated, still painfully vague, but he understood. 

“This isn't the first time, Yen, I—” 

“I know. I saw.” Right, she saw, probably everything, and he had the wherewithal to feel humiliated for it. 

“I've cheated it enough times. I can't outrun it forever.” It felt nice, at least, to let his walls down a little, stop playing the perpetual naive optimist. Almost a relief, even, a weight off his shoulders. 

“I know. But you're strong, Jask.” She moved her hand from his chin to the back of his head, guiding it to rest against her shoulder. “We have more in common than I thought, you know.” He laughed, thin and heady, but with a little more conviction this time, and pressed his face against her neck. 

“Is that your way of telling me you're fucked up, too?” He asked, and, despite the levity in his tone, he truly was curious. 

“Yes, bard,” she hummed, reaching out to sip at her tankard.

“You're not going to give me any more than that?” He fought off a yawn, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth. “I just told you everything.” 

“Maybe someday,” she replied, setting the mug back on the table. “But right now I think you could use some rest. We both could.” She slipped out of the booth and he let his head tilt back against the wall, mourning the absence of her warmth. 

She returned a few minutes later, room procured, and hiked the blanket back over his shoulders as he reached for his lute and followed after her. It was a nice enough room, two beds on opposite sides, a bath he had no intention of utilizing. Exhausted, he kicked off his boots, shrugged off his doublet, and dropped onto the bed. He let his mind wander, dozing as Yennefer readied herself for bed, eyelids heavy by the time she blew out the candles.

“You won't try again?” Yen asked from across the room after a while, barely a silhouette in the faint moonlight. Jaskier rolled over to face her, finding her staring distantly out the window.

“You, uh, you have to be more specific,” he muttered, tugging the blanket closer to his chin. It smelled of lilac and ale. 

“How am I supposed to make that more specific?” It came out sharp, like her usual tone with him, but he could still feel an uneasy twinge to her words. 

“I mean, I don't know.” He felt stupid for reasons beyond his grasp. “Not today, or tomorrow. But I can't promise never.” There was a long pause, and Jaskier barely breathed, wondering if he'd managed to upset her as sleep crept up on him. 

“Not today is enough,” she said finally, sounding almost far away, and his breath hitched in his throat.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, voice thick with impending sleep. “When are you leaving?” The me he omitted at the tail end rang in his mind, unspoken but understood, heavy in the nighttime silence. She was supposed to leave in the morning, so he could either move on or finish what he’d set out to do; he wasn’t sure he wanted her to uphold that promise anymore.

“Not today.” He exhaled slowly. Not today is enough. And maybe, just maybe, enough not today's would add up to never. 

[the-satellite]

Hello friends and welcome to ☆Hateful Nostalgia☆. I was exposed to the mob talker mod WAY too young bc I was an unsupervised child on the internet watching mod showcases and SkyDoesMinecraft. Looking back these sucked, the stories were often bland and the designs were milk toast at best and tits out at worst. So for the sake of procrastinating on working on anything substantial I grabbed the main 6 I remembered and gussied em up. Redesigns, rewrites, better names, all that bullshit. If your interested in better photos, design notes, story details and rambling hit the basement, otherwise here's a line up you should click for better quality.

Also I wrote all this once before already but I deleted it like a dumb bitch. On the night Unus Annus was murdered in front of my eyes no less. Was a rough fuckin night.

The Creeper- Kupa. An explosive pyromaniac with a habit of making empty threats and yelling. She protects what she believes to be her territory with a suicidal passion, but if you manage to get her to cool down and soften up she's pretty sick to hand out with. Hard of hearing, has at least one bout of head trauma at all times, and deathly allergic to cats.

Because the creeper is kinda the og I wanted to reference AT2's design more than the others, but I'm p sure the only thing I actually kept was the red hair and brown gloves. Otherwise I was doing whatever. I really wanted to lean into the explody bit of creepers, so I gave her some bite and dressed her in clothes referenced from Irish railroad workers. This may also be why I keep imaging her with a very heavy Irish or Scottish accent, whichever would be most incomprehensible when angry. Every color but her skin was color picked from one of the references, with some minor alterations for makes my eyes happy reasons.

With Kupa I imagine a story line with her would largely be about her as a character and her development than like an actual adventure narrative like everyone else. She starts off ready to blow up both you and herself in a misguided attempt to defend what she sees as her's and opens up and learns not everyone is out to get her. Lots of time taken to understand her childhood and how she ended up how she is. Very simple, probably the default or tutorial run people would go through.

The Zombie- Bee. The ill husk of a missing explorer suffering from a less than conventional appetite. She wallows in her self imposed loneliness, believing herself to be an irredeemable monster doomed to hurt those around her. What she really needs is a buddy and some clue to who she used to be. Rough voiced, chronically fatigued, and prone to spontaneous combustion in sunlight.

 I definitely consider this one the weakest for design sadly. I imagined Zombies as humans who went into strange caves and caverns and didn't come out for years, only to pop up as completely different people. I just tossed AT2's design. The first thing I did was make her a bit of a genderbent Steve and tinted her green bc Zombies in game are just Steve but green. Tore up her clothes, colored picked the darkest colors I could from the clothes on the in game and boom, Bee. I do vaguely regret not making her eyes pure black but I also still wanted her to be human enough to fit with the other overworld mods.

 Ok so Bee actually has a basic story. When you meet her she's aggressive, but as a warning. She fears the possibility she may hurt somebody so heads for threats immediately. Going back and forth between her cave and village for a while you learn more about the situation with the missing folks who come back and Bee as a person. After a bit you pick her up off her depressed ass and start a nocturnal adventure of refinding your past, adapting to who your becoming, overcoming self destuction, and slow burn babey!!! 

The Skeleton- Ulna. One of the few surviving warriors of a now destroyed kingdom and dead culture. She spends most of her time now traveling alone, hiding in trees and shooting anything see sees as a threat- which is everything- in the face with homemade arrows. Very much suffering from loss of her home and a bad case of lost purpose. A woman of few words, very antisocial, and naturally nocturnal.

 I came in with the Skeleton wanting to make her seem mysterious, so my first thought was immediately a cloak and a mask, but I wanted her face to like be visible so I went with the face paint. I didn't actually know that I wanted to do under there so I went with wraps that are reminiscent of the original outfit but still not tits out bc it's so fucking easy! Gave her a quiver, color picked the cloak and face paint from the in game model and the wraps from AT2'S art. I did like. Subconsciously draw her eyes the way I do Asian characters but I didn't have anything specific in mind so like go nuts with what you think she is.

 Ulna's deal is very much her lack of purpose or home and the entire thing is about finding that again. She's found sitting up in a tree during a storm pointing a bow and arrow into your face. She eventually let's you stick around until the storm is over and theres some bonding into deep night until the rain stops. You ask if she wants to come with on your little travelling sword for hire business, she says sure, sleep schedule shenanigans, backstory angst, and road trip bonding happens and she eventually decides that helping people is her new purpose and you're her new home

The Spider- Park. A young adult experiencing the world for the first time through her tribe's rite of passage. She's really just trying to figure out how to live life outside of the cave she's been stuck in her entire life and aggressively trying to be an independent adult despite not knowing anything about being an independent adult. Its projection. Blind in the daylight, naive and excitable, and taken to refusing help at her own risk.

 Ok so. I don't know who looked at the spider and said "purple haired loli with puffy pants" so I once again yeeted the whole thing, only really keeping the kinda cutesy and childish bits. Spiders are a tribe of humans what live in caves unless they've broken off to live on the surface. Kids are kept inside until they hit a certain milestone, where they come up to explore at night. They're usually small and pale, but are pretty kickass when necessary. Again picked the colors off the in game model, played with the lightest gray for the skin, and bc I couldn't figure out anyway to use the stripes so they're on the patches lol.

 Park's meeting is probably the funniest and most meet cute one here, in that she accidentally drops on top of you from a little cliff drop off. Cue loads of apologies and an explanation about the spider deal and being blind in light. She asks for some help getting around and bam babey friendship and emotional attachment! What follows is kinda a buddy of coming of age story with the obligatory goes home and is miserable scene. Generally it's just about being a scared young adult and having someone to fall back on and why that's important. Also crushes and young people being bad at that.

 The Blaze- Amber. A demonic entity who would let the world burn and the sun die if it meant she'd get her soul back. She's known for being ruthless, taking souls through force instead of making deals like other Blazes. Keeps this forceful nature even once she's become friendly, makes you do dump shit. Territorial, eyes glow and dim with her life, and runs remarkably warm.

 Amber here is the first one I actually did! I was just. Really tired that she was in a bikini. I decided early on I wanted overworld mobs to be human and everyone else was decidedly not, so Blazes are demons who gave up their souls under false pretenses to other Blazes. Because of how little clothes AT2's design wore I had essentially free reign and my thought was immediately to lean on golden knight bc of how Blazes are found protecting fortresses. The gold isn't picked from anything bc I was looser with the colors, but everything else is, and the hair is supposed to represent the smoke. Also the sticks in her hair are blaze rods bc I don't like them just floating around her.

Amber is found in the Nether obviously, protecting a fortress and immediately trying beat your ass and either incinerate you or make you give up your soul. During you prove yourself a p damn good fighter and she makes a deal to show you how Blazes exist and pursade you to give your soul up willingly. Bonding happens and she explains where the souls go and what happened to her. Insert line about how she dug in the sand for her soul until her fingers bleed bc I'm an Arcana freak lol. In general I'd just like her to learn to adapt to who she is now and learning to live life well instead of letting her anger burn her up from the inside out.

 The Enderman- Violet. A confused but sweet young bit of void created by and connected to the Ender Dragon. Her relationship with reality is tenuous at best and abusive at worst, making stable existence rather difficult. She doesn't know a name, age, gender, anything about herself aside from that she likes sweaters. Communicates primarily through psychic connections, docile and sweet, and melts like a witch in water.

 Violet was incredibly easy, so this may be way short. Endermen are decidedly human shaped void from the End with varying sentience. They're direct extensions of the Ender Dragon, and nobody knows how they're made or where they come from, not even they do. Adventurers who escaped The End say they seem scared of it though. Violet in particular is pretty damn new and extraordinary nonconforming, and I tried to show that with her sweater and ponytail. Once again, literally all colors picked. Definitely the simplest but one of my favs.

Violet is the sweetest meet up I think. As your traveling between villages you notice a strange enderman watching you and plant a little flower in front of her. She picks it and you hear a happy little trill come from you and a pretty voice say thank you in your head. Now you have a tall dark teleporting travel buddy! After a little bit of back and forth she tells you in some broken English that the Ender Dragon made her but she doesnt know how, and that it's bad and needs to be killed for the sake of Endermen and that's the new goal. Spoiler they're the corrupted souls of those that died fighting it, with it gone Endermen are free to exist as their own being and do whatever, hurray!

[ma-gic-gay]

Death had always been a finite concept. For both of them, presumably, but especially for Carly. Death was something she had to deal with far too regularly for her tastes (comes with the territory when you have a habit of marrying mobsters), despite her hatred of it.

Shootings, she could handle. And did, shockingly well. Despite the fact she couldn't handle being in a stable situation for more than a day, she was great in a crisis.

Of course, the fact she had Jason there was helpful. She felt unsafe, she called him and it was like she had her own personal body guard. It was, in a very strange way, nice to know he wouldn't hesitate to kill for her and has done it repeatedly in the past.

The deaths of the people who tried to kill her (or him, especially him- she prayed those bastards got the worst treatment they could) were the only ones she could handle.

It's a bit ironic she got killed from a shooting, three hours and twenty three minutes after Jason died, in a weird way. She always said she'd kill for him (realistically she knew he'd lose his shit if she ever did that because he's overprotective and hasn't taught her how to use a gun), and that's exactly what she did. He got shot right in front of her, she grabbed his gun while he was yelling at her not to and shot the person.

Slight problem though, she too got shot. Whoopsie daisies.

Getting shot fucking hurt. She was in and out of consciousness when she was at the hospital and no one would tell her about Jason's condition. They were married, for fuck's sakes, why the fuck wasn't anyone telling her how her husband was doing?!

Eventually, someone (probably Monica, she can't remember) told her he was dead. They got to him too late, they said, he'd been doa and their best efforts hadn't revived him.

After hearing that, she couldn't live with herself. He got shot because Vince was trying to shoot her and off he went to be her hero and make everything okay and he got killed. One phone call and he was at the Metro Court, hanging out with her and keeping watch when he noticed Vince in the parking lot and went out there to confront him. Vince pointed a gun at Carly and, of course, since Jason's a self sacrificing person, he died.

Which meant she was directly responsible for his death and that rocked her to her very core. She'd failed him. After twenty five years, she failed him. Even he'd have to admit this one. There was no spin on this (and she'd heard some strange ones over the years) for how she'd be able to live with herself after she failed him. It wasn't like she'd done something stupid, no, she got him killed. Carly knew he'd do something, especially since Vince was a dick, and she told him. Did he deserve to know? Yes. But only after she'd reassured his overprotective streak she'd be fine and he didn't have to kill anyone else for her.

According to something she'd heard from the doctors, in whatever fucking limbo this was, Carly had died of a heart attack. Likely brought on by stress. Bullets were fine but hearing of Jason's death killed her.

Yup, makes sense. Well, she'll be able to apologize for all of eternity once she gets to wherever she's going. Even after he forgives her (which, she's being honest, will happen as soon as they see each other), she's going to apologize and apologize.

Ooh, she gets to see Sonny and Morgan too! Her son and husband and best friend for all of eternity. What could be better?

There's something that vaguely looks like an angel and she notices it drags her up. Huh, guess she's going to heaven. Makes sense, Carly's a fairly good person. She's not a terrible one.

Except when she gets there she only finds Morgan and Courtney (Courtney, oh how she missed her), no Jason anywhere. Where the hell was he? Avoiding a party, probably. She has got to get him to go out more, especially now that nothing can probably happen. What are the rules of death?

"Where's Jason?" Carly asks after greeting the pair. They stare blankly until she asks again, "Where is he? He's here, right? I was told he's dead!"

Courtney's the first one to be stunned out of her shock. "Carly, he, um, didn't make the cut."

"For what? Give me that list, I'm adding his name at the very top. Where the fuck is he?" She exclaims. He's here, he's got to be here.

"You're aware of his job, right?" Is she aware of his job, of course she is!

"Yes, Courtney, it's why we got married. Where the hell is he? Or Sonny, or Mike!"

"Mike's taking a nap and Sonny's not dead." What?! "Or, if he is, he didn't make the cut either." Didn't make the cut for what? Carly will scheme, steal, seduce, lie and cheat go get those two up here with her, where the fuck are they?

"Because of Jason's job and the amount of people he killed, he didn't make the cut to heaven. He's in hell." Is it possible to die twice? She might just do that. He's in hell, which is a place for bad people! Her hero is in hell.

She's gonna kill someone. "I'm not perfect! None of us are perfect, I killed someone! Why the hell aren't we down there? He died defending me!"

"Shocking," Morgan says dryly. "Jason killed people for a living. He was a mobster."

"And I'm an accessory to all of that! I lead the mob for a week or two!" Carly exclaims. "He's a good person, we know that."

"We're not in charge of the decisions, Carly," Courtney attempts to comfort her best friend. It's a nice attempt. "That's for people with a lot more clout than us. If it was up to either of us, I promise he'd be here but you'll never see him again."

Never see him again? Oh hell no. "Is there any way to get sent down to hell with him?" This is impulsive and reckless and Jason wouldn't encourage it but she's got less care. She needs to see her best friend again, goddammit."Some paperwork I can file, some people's husband's I can seduce?"

"Someone can submit you for reevaluation."

"Great! Is Emily here?" Emily hates her, she'll surely want to help!

"Somewhere, yeah. Why?"

"Emily hates me. Can't blame her. Anyways, look, I want to help her write my reevaluation. I've ruined a lot of lives."

"Which Jason has always helped you feel better about."

"That's because he's my best friend, Morgan."

The next few weeks are spent making sure every single one of her transgressions is on the list and resubmitting her,,, whatever the hell it's called, Emily never gave details.

So it's really not a surprise when she's dragged down to hell by some gross creature, waving goodbye to her son and Courtney and sister in law (that's a weird thing to think about).

And when she gets there, it's just like a darker version of heaven. It's the same fucking place (away from the fire), just more her color palette. Weird.

"Excuse me, where's Jason Morgan?" She asks the creature who dragged her down here. "I was informed he'd be down here."

A shrug is all she gets in response. Well then, she's able to roll with the punches and searches up and down for him, eventually finding him in a room without decorations or anything but basic necessities.

She's got some decorating on her hands.

Carly walks right through the half opened door (he really didn't lock it? Weirdo) and gets the response of, "Get out."

"Don't expect me to start knocking just because we're dead," she quips, a smile on her face. Knocking is overrated. He looks normal and as he registers what's going on, he gets all squinty.

Once he actually realizes it's her, she's already half attacked him in a hug that he reciprocates. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Little bit of bargaining, Emily's assistance and voila! You'd be amazed at how many bad things I've done. Everyone sends their love, of course. Are there any stores down here? This room is so boring," she changes the subject.

"No, I mean why are you dead? You're supposed to be alive."

"I died three hours and twenty three minutes after you. Heart attack. Monica told me about you dying. No one else would." That was a very bad time when he was dead and she wasn't.

"Does this mean-"

"No, you are not responsible for my death. If anything, I'm responsible for yours. I'm sorry, more than you'll ever know," Carly tells him, eyes welling up with tears.

"You're not responsible. I got shot. It happens." Way too nonchalant for death.

"Because you were defending me, like always. Seriously, take a nice vacation off of that and start using your survival instincts. I don't have Emily to help me this time if I need to transfer afterlives."

"I was defending the business."

"Bullshit. I told you Vince threatened me and you already planned to kill him. You saw your opportunity and instead of shooting him, you got shot and died. This is my fault, 100%, and I will not let you make me feel better about this. You could've patched things up with Britt, hung out with a bunch of people but no, you had to die protecting me. Take a week off of being my hero, please."

"I'm not going to do that. The last time I thought about it, you took over the business."

"Well I can't just ask you to forgive me, so take a day off."

"You'll get kidnapped. And I don't hold you responsible because it was my choice to defend you and my choice to want to kill Vince."

"You're overprotective and it's nice but not when it kills you."

"You spent twenty five years running off every woman in my life because you were convinced they'd hurt me, you hated a ton of people because they did something to me and you almost committed several felonies. And I'm overprotective," he rolls his eyes.

"Not the point, first off and second, you've killed and kidnapped for me. In a very fucked up way, it's sweet. And you totally ran off the men in my life!"

"How did I do that?"

"By being the only person I can depend on. I don't know, look, they've all- except for Sonny, most of the time- hated you because you intimidated them. So you did the same thing, just not on purpose."

"Then it's not the same thing."

"How did we get so off topic? I'm sorry for being the reason you're dead. Do you forgive me?" Strange sentences.

"You're not why I'm dead, I made that choice-"

"You chose to die?"

"I meant the choice to jump in front of you."

"Which was instinctual, you've always protected me."

"Might have to do that even more down here. There's some real creeps."

"I really don't think they'll care that much. But okay."

"Vince is here."

"No revenge."

"He killed you and I'm just supposed to sit here and ignore that he did that?!"

"Maybe we can talk this all out."

"Carly, what part of this aren't you understanding? He killed you. I hurt him, that's how this works, so he knows better than to mess with you."

"Or we could go shop for decor. I'll pick out nice stuff, come on let's go!"

"I'm not going shopping. I'm planning revenge."

"It'll be safer if you're there with me."

"I hate it when you're right."

"Love you too."

"Love you."

The end fuckers :)

oh it's beautiful. thank you for this

[elanska]

"you're just you" - Ibelin vs Latte

I'm a staunch Arwin x Latte supporter, and so often times I've been thinking about Arwin x Ibelin, just to see another POV angle of what could have been.

There are times when I read Arwin x Latte moments and I said to myself, he's supposedly to flirt with Ibelin instead and my heart starts to ache. and I determined to prove that Latte is a FAR SUPERIOR CHOICE (yes, I went on imaginary shipping war with myself. it's a fun activity)

Okay, so let's talk about original Ibelin x Arwin route. In original novel, Arwin is represented as pretty commoner mage boi who have been helping and protecting Ibelin with his magic from time to time in order to gain her affection. And THEN it turns out that this sweet mage boi is actually the most powerful mage. Lording over all the other mage (like, you know, the sweet boy next door is actually the powerful prince that can instantly solve your problem with bitch-of-a-rival! surprise!)

original novel!Arwin fall for Ibelin because of her beauty, kindness (she helps the poor boy in slums and have confrontation with the thugs who tried to steal it), and being different from all other girls(?maybe? this is usual setting for romance novel). anyway, she's superior from all other girls, so original novel!Arwin can't help but falling for her in every scenes. The Eirene dance ball where she dance gracefully, the Eirene street festival where Ibelin watch the ultimate bor....intelligent plays that set her different from other girls who just like shallow romantic/drama plot. The Eirene's Goddess selection where Ibelin show off her charm with her voice and beauty and make him falls harder for her.

As you can see from paragraphs above. Original novel!Arwin is BORING pretty much non-descript. just a human prop to show off Ibelin's charm as the female main character. There's practically not a difference from him, Kenneth, and Rondemio except the guys with different occupations (but all having powerfull status and extremely good looking) that fall in love with Ibelin who is perfect in everything. You can swap original novel!Arwin with other mage who hide his status as tower lord and pretend he's just a lowly friendly mage........and the story will not change much? since Ibelin is the focus here, we just need that non-descript (but still pretty) guy to fall in love with her and the plot will go on like usual (since Ibelin is the focus here, not him)

There's two critical line in Arwin's flag. 'you're just you' = somehow this mage invited Ibelin to visit his home, and Ibelin finds out that the nice, helpful mage is actually the lord of other mage. And that she's surprised, but Arwin is still Arwin. I will interpreted it as "you might be the magician's tower lord, but you're still the mage that kind to me")

And I'm promptly confused, because WHAT THE HELL that supposed to means? It's not like the tower lord title is something bad? unless if we're taken another interpretation that 'tower lord has awful reputation as crazy psychopath' and 'ta-da I'm /that/ notorious tower lord actually'. so that 'you're just you' line means = even though you're the rumoredly notorious tower lord, you're still my friend (well, he's still one of fish option at this point). And this is heartwarming to Arwin because he secretly thinks that no one will accepts him because he's notorious and everyone thinks he's a monster(?). So he questions this sweet, angelic goddess - if she also think he's a monster.

We're gonna pause a bit and explore Latte's route. As you all (y'all) aware, our favorite Arwin is a crazy bastard who enjoy entertainment more than anything and having ummm...an unique sense of humor, and apparently having no idea at all how to courting girls. Or maybe he do have /vague/ idea, but the line of somebody interesting-friend-goofy friend to hang around with-I kinda like this girl-I want her to like me back.......is so friggin’ blurry that we're not entirely sure when it ended in one category and began in another (and from what we read so far, neither were he)

oh by the way, this is same boi on Ibelin route's above. But instead in story where Ibelin's shining as female main characters surrounded by three generic cut-and-paste pretty powerful males, where his characterization fell into 'Arwin is selfish crazy (psychopath) bastard and powerful wizard's lord but *always* eating out Ibelin's hand' bracket, our murderous bunny get, like, "waitaminute. I *am* the selfish crazy (psychopath) bastard here, the *fuck** you telling me I should do again?" and proceed to wreck his bracket. Of course, bits and pieces of his original character still exist - like how he's a sweetheart when he's with the girl he likes. But instead "Hi I'm that notorious psychopath Arwin, but everytime my gal do something, I'll become devoted mob fanboy with swirly googly eyes meep meep at whatever she does" VS "Yea, I'm that notorious psychopath Arwin who likes A, B, C, and hates D, E, F. What's this? we encounter event D? well, with my characterization, I should go flying in rage, but but gal is here and it'll be /pitiful/ if she's crying, jeez. fine, I'll just let this slide (for you)"

(yes, it's cute to see him struggling like that)

sorry getting distracted there. the point is.....the point is....we like Arwin's characterization, we like how he's strongly struggling to stay consistent to his identity but also getting affected by his love for his gal (Latte) and bit changed for the better (hey, love makes you a better person). We like him as a male lead with distinctive personality instead love-interest!mob that exist solely to fanboy over Ibelin's time-to-shine-with-my-heroine-dokidoki-powaa events.

Which is why we strongly had question about the two critical lines-to-ensnare-his-heart.

"you're just you" = on Ibelin's route, Ibelin is a foreigner that came to Empire and therefore didn't know Arwin is 1. head of powerful faction; and 2. crazy selfish psychopath (since he's always nice when he's around her). She just shrugged and goes "hey you're nice to me. You're my friend" and Arwin goes *Doki* oh I totally fell for ya’.

Y'see, Arwin didn't have any reason to hide his position as the Lord of Magician's. And being magicians are pretty respectable. The /royal family/ even conduct business with them. Ibelin just never asks, and Arwin is not the type to flaunting his title around (power, sure, but not title). What about number two? From Latte's excerpts, Arwin never been anything but sweet and cute bunny when he's with Ibelin (her detractors meet grisly ends behind her back, like Iron Mentalle), like 'well I heard rumors, but it can't be that bad, you're very nice guy (to me all this time)" and Arwin goes *DOKI*. And I goes, hey bunny, you know it's not true, you know yourself not a nice guy, why do you fall just because a girl said you are *not* who you are?

(and sorry guys, I don't think he'll goes 'since I've met ibelin, I will strive to change myself to became a nice docile mage that helpful to everyone. Time for myself undergoes self-change to became a better man to fit this angelic Ibelin *doki* or some pretty sappy like that). In fact, this kind of scenario got quickly debunked in Latte's route wherein Ibelin command Arwin to be nice person to Latte and Arwin goes, like, 8 to -10 in instant. in a sense, Ibelin just told him to KNEEL! and like Latte said, it's too big of a dream. You can probably request the lord of magicians to vaguely crouched down a bit to help you search for contact lens that just dropped to the ground /per se/ - and if he's feeling nice and (particularly) likes you, mighta done it, but you didn't outright *command* him. He might also done it *within* time, like +20 years into marriage and had been tolerating each other for old long times already, but definitely not for a pretty stranger that, like, only been acquaintance for a month (and like we told you in the essay-that-I-don't-know-when-it'll-be-finisheddd-I'm-experiencing-writer's-block; Arwin has issues of being in power. He's rebellious edgy fish, this fish #3)

Where was I? oh yeah. and that *doki* question 'do you also think I'm a monster?' What the. Since when it's an issue to you Arwin? If you don't want other people view you as monster, then act nice to other people, hey you. But to be fair to him, Arwin seems indifferent with other people. He's used to people gawking at his out-of-this-world beauty, and used to people keeping their distance since he's the lord of magician's tower. the only thing we witnessed to support his scary reputation is his brutal treatment to dangerous thugs, which while makes you 'isn't that a bit excessive, dude? just hand them over to nearest guard (which never shows up, oh well)' but not exactly *le gasp!* 'what a monster! *flail flail* horrible! horrible! they just want to mug you and you chop their head off? poor them!' (ummm, I'm not the greatest example of showing compassion, so yeah.....)

So, anyway, even though people generally fear Arwin and might be crossing the other street when they see him, they're not exactly goes into 'hide the women and children!' level. Basically, I don't see what's the fuss and why I must adhere to people who call you monster just because you offed the mugger that wants to mug you. they can fret 'you should be nicer' but I will not cry and wailing pitifully because I dun wanna be called a monsteeerrr so I will goes ’tis me! mug me all ye want so I can proven my niceness and be accepted by the society!!'. And if me, the normal vanilla mortal thinks that way, I honestly cannot think the lord of magician's tower with ego that stronger than mine (and absolute power to back that up) will think that way.

So Arwin getting concerned with society's perception of him, having identity crisis and afraid of Ibelin also thought of him that way? bullshit. He /might/ be worried about Ibelin not liking him since she's his love interest and it's normal if you want to be liked by the person you like too. but society? can bugger off themselves. and Arwin is always nice/not monsterly to Ibelin, so I don't know where that came from/what it supposed to be. angelic!Ibelin sees Arwin went brutal to defend her and goes *le gasp* you monster?! - won't exist anyway since she's nice angelic girl. It's weird.

So let's talk about Latte's route. Latte, as you know, is the empire's citizen whom house is only 3 days and 3 nights away from the magician tower where Arwin's reside, so she pretty much know about his reputation (incidentally, Latte's knowledge about the original novel seemingly contradicts Arwin 'real' personality. She often thinks him as monster pychopath (chopping bishot's head off, chopping her head off - all over nothing). Arwin doesn't take offense from this even though it's pretty much rude (then again he likes Latte, and he knows what's his reputation and know for the fact that he is, in fact, ruthless (tho not as severe as the monster that Latte's imagined)

Arwin never be anyone but himself in front of Latte. In fact, he acted his worst reputation  (= crazy psychopath bastard) right in front of her. Burning her hair tie to get her attention, free-falling force play, insist of calling her annoying nickname that she hate. He also acted his best in front of her (helping her cover for Cano, checking on her and fetching her ride home when she needs it most; actually asking for her /permission/ for a dance! - Arwin can *force* anyone dance with him with puppetry if needed to, but he can't make them enjoying it. And since he likes Latte, he wants her to enjoy her time with him, be it dance, or solving mystery together, or just casual banter. It’s a (BIG) shift from I’ll enjoy spending my time with her to I want *her* to enjoy her time with me too.

From what we see, enjoyment is big drive for Arwin. His friendship with Latte (which including her in 'won't kill because she's funny'’ friendlist started when he finds her amusing). He also making a big fuss upon the super boring play that Ibelin makes him attend - verbally lashing Latte for making him go through that (for 30 mins); he left Latte watching Ibelin's singing contest all on her own and told her to not including him next time for this boring shit.

SPOILER FROM NOVEL FOR AT LEAST +3-4 CHAPTERS AHEAD (where Latte will basically saying 'you're just you' and personal wild theories flinging)

so Arwin take Latte a tour on his abode. His house, his room, his personal perching spot. And Latte seems not really enjoy them. viewing the tower walls from outside? normal room, scary-since-it's-so-high loft space with lots of winds around-you-might-find-it-amusing-but-I-don't. He tried to make her comfortable - providing shield from the wind, providing fire so she's not cold, but it didn't change the fact that while he enjoy this place, Latte might not, and no matter what he do, he can't change it. It's like you‘re hardcore cosplayer frequently attending cons and your friend are 'I don't even understand' but then sighed and said 'yeah, you and your dumb shit, what else is new?' and help making your props/booking your ticket/etc anyway. That kind of old familiarity and acceptance and intimate feels of 'I'm so used with all your antics this doesn't baffle me'

As for Arwin, well, we had elaborating about he's not following society standards (if he is, he won't be crazy psychopath bastard that he is), so we're wagering he's using his own standard in relationship. And since we know he's definitely not doing boring/drab things just to please his significant other, the thought of Latte doing it for him ('I don't really like being here, but it's for you, so okay then') kind of touching. Probably. Uh we don't really understand romance. 

and don't even ask me about 'do you also think I'm a monster' thing, because that shit is weird as fuck.

[tisfan]

If you're still doing Sarcasm prompts, could you please do 57. “This place hold a lot of memories for me. Some bad, some… No. No, no, all bad.” With Eddie x Venom? Pretty please?

Point Blank, Gross

A/N: The title is a playon the movie Grosse Point Blank, which is about an assassin who goes to hishigh school reunion. If you haven’t seen this movie, you really should. It’sfreaking hilarious.

Eddie sighed, lookingthrough the badges on the table. Each one labeled the former student with asmudgy picture probably clipped from one of the thousands ofprinted-and-never-sold yearbooks that were moldering away in the school’sbasement. It took him longer than it should have to realize that the badgeswere in order by first name, rather than last, and that, further, that wasprobably because some of the girls in his high school class had gotten married,and changed their names.

Eddie Brock. Schoolnewspaper, photography club, class clown.

It doesn’t say loser onhere, Eddie, Venom pointed out, helpfully.

“Yeah, that wasn’t anofficial award or anything,” Eddie mumbled, picking up the badge and pinning iton with a grimace. “There were lots of losers in high school.” Christ, hedidn’t really want to be here. He looked over the badges again. He was in luck.“Mac” wasn’t on the table, which meant the guy was here already.

(more under the cut)

Eddie gritted his teethand pushed through the doors into the old gym.

What is this place,Eddie? Venom was swiveling Eddie’s neck around like itwas on a ball bearing, trying to take in the sights. What sights? It was a gym,it smelled like a gym, and even the host of tiny round tables with papertablecloths, streamers hanging from the roof, and someone's disco ball spinningidly in the center of the room didn’t disguise it one bit.

At least there was abar. Didn’t look like the planning committee had much of a budget to work with;it was all Coors Light and box wine. Shelly Poindexter, who’d once beenhomecoming queen, was leaning against the bar, plastic cup of wine danglingidly in her fingers.

“Eddie Brock, from theBrock Report, come home to grace his humble beginnings?”

“Thought I’d see if itwas all the way I remembered it,” Eddie said, not really looking at her as heswiveled his head, trying to spot the man he’d come here to find. Find the guy,interview him, talk to a couple of other people as camouflage, and get out.

“If you remember it asbeing a ruthless crucible of gossip and hormones, then yeah, it hasn’tchanged,” she said, eyeing Eddie with interest. “You’ve changed.”

“Only on the inside,”Eddie said. Before she could say anything else, he reached past her to snag acan of beer and stuffed a couple of bucks into the bartender’s tip jar. Hecracked it open, gave Shelly a vague nod, and pressed forward into the crowd.Mac had to be here somewhere.

Venom finished theirsurveillance of the gym, sniffing at the beer can with interest. When theythought no one was looking, Eddie felt Venom grab their body a bit, stretchinghis mouth and jaw enough that he could take in the entire beer, can and all, ina single gulp. Cheap brew, Venom complained.

“Could’a told you that,buddy,” Eddie said. He burped, and made a face at the flat, watery taste. “It’sa high school reunion, not a socialite gala. Ugh.” He turned slowly on hisheel, looking at their surroundings. “This place hold a lot of memories for me.Some bad, some… No. No, no, all bad. Let’s just find Mac and get this overwith.”

Anne thinks it’s funnyyou’re at your high school reunion, Venom said. Do wereally think a man who kills people for money will be here?

Venom had a weird senseof right and wrong. Usually whatever was fun was right, and whatever was boringwas wrong. But they also thought that killing was for fun, or for protection,or because they were hungry. Or annoyed.

But Venom did notapprove of mercenary killing. An assassin was… rude.

“His name tag wasn’t onthe table outside,” Eddie pointed out. “And if our information was right, he’sin town this weekend on ‘business’, anyway. If he’s seen here, it’s a goodalibi for him. Of course, that only works if he’s actually seen...”

That woman is hungry, Venom said, turning Eddie around. Shelly was following him, witha determined look on her face. Not hungry the way Venom meant it, but more…aggressively sexual. Look out, here she comes, she’s the man-eater.

“She always has been,”Eddie muttered. He was pretty sure she’d slept her way to her homecoming crown,and god only knew how many more guys since. Not that Eddie was going toslut-shame her, but she’d never been what one would call discerning. Andhe rather suspected that she wasn’t looking at him like that because shethought he’d give her a good time, but because she thought he could dosomething for her.

More fool she. The BrockReport had a pretty decent following, but journalists were not exactlyrolling in dough. “Just ignore her; maybe she’ll go away.”

He promptly forgot abouther, spotting Mac near the DJ’s station, talking urgently, one finger near hisear, as if he was on a headset. Not even a little subtle, but at least Eddiewas close to having something off his to-do list. A break in the story,something he could use. He just needed a break, just--

“Eddie Brock!” Someoneelse squealed his name, and he was accosted by the sort of middle-aged man thatused to teach until he discovered that real estate was less stressful. Eddiesquinted, trying to mentally peel fifteen years off-- oh, good lord, really?His sophomore year shop teacher?

“Mr. Peterson,” Eddiesaid, smiling weakly. “How’s life been treating you?” He couldn’t help sneakinga glance at Mac. Just don’t go anywhere, he begged silently.

Eddie wasn’t very goodat small talk. And gaining a talkative parasite didn’t help his attention spanany at all. When Mr. Peterson stared at him, Eddie had to backtrack theconversation.

You told him goldfish,when he asked if you were dating.

Well, at least one ofthem was paying attention. “Uh, sorry, that’s... kind of an in-joke with me andmy friends.”

“Well, I suppose thatyou’ve seen Shape of Water, too,” Mr. Peterson said. He gave a bark oflaughter. “My wife liked it.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, huh?”Eddie checked on Mac again.

Across the room, Macnodded at something that the DJ said, and then turned. When his coat flippedup, Eddie saw the distinct shape of a pistol tucked down the back of the man’sjeans.

Eddie. Eddie, he isfollowing-- Venom jerked on their neck and pulled his gazearound to watch… the old chemistry teacher going off toward the ladies’ room.

What even the fuck.“Hey, so, uh, it’s been nice chatting, but I just saw, uh--” Eddie waved hishand in what he hoped was a vaguely meaningful way. He ducked away before Mr.Peterson could say anything else, letting Venom help him navigate through thesea of people, picking a path of least resistance.

We can go faster if wesuit up. Which wasn’t untrue, although that was often accompaniedby panicked mobs, Venom not exactly looking warm and fuzzy.

I am not warm and fuzzy, Venom complained, having caught that last thought. I am anefficient predator.

“Yes, I know,” Eddieplacated him. “And if we suit up now, everyone will run screaming and someonewill get hurt in the stampede. Just... Keep moving us through the crowd.”

You are less fun whenyou are working.

Eddie had an answer forthat, he was pretty sure he did, but before he was able to get it out, he’dbeen jerked through the doors and was pressed, face up against a concrete wall.“My god, you really are stupid, aren’t you?” a woman-- Shelly, in fact, said.There was something hard and chilly pressing into the small of Eddie’s back.“Bad move. Real bad move. Well, I suppose we can find something to do with theextra body. Make it look like you two shot each other. Something.”

“Shelly?” Eddie twistedhis neck until it crackled, trying to look at her. “What the hell are youdoing? You-- You and Mac?”

“He’s exciting,” shesaid, jamming the gun harder against his spine. “Which is more than I can sayabout you.”

Can I eat her? No onewill even know she is missing.

“Maybe,” Eddie conceded.“Shelly, seriously, you want to walk away from this. Right now. I feel like Ishould warn you that your life is in danger, here.”

There was nothingladylike about her scoff. “Mac won’t turn on me, asshole. People keep tryingthat on me, it doesn’t work. But, since I don’t think there’s anything you cansay that’ll get me to leave you alive, let’s just get on with this--”

She was still talkingwhen she pulled the trigger in time with a sudden surge of music from the gym,probably enough to drown out the sound of gunfire.

Fuck, that hurt-- the bullet went through his spine and Eddie spilledto the ground in a heap before Venom snarled in his mind and-- spread. Warm,comforting, a little bit slimy, but hey, Eddie would take it, especiallycompared to the red-hot agony of being shot.

Sorry, love, should’velet you have her sooner, Eddie said as theyclimbed to their feet.

He could feel his spineand the surrounding tissue healing, a soothing numbness as the nerves wererebuilt. A cold-hot, hard lump ached its way up and out of the wound as itclosed: the bullet. Joined as they were, he could feel Venom manipulating it,pulling it up to their mouth.

Shelly was staring atthem, frozen, unable to move or even scream. Her eyes were wide and as round asdinner plates.

“We,” Venom said,pushing the bullet into their cheek like a wad of tobacco, “are veryexciting. Aren’t you excited?” Venom hitched in a breath and spit thebullet directly into Shelly’s face.

They didn’t give her anytime to answer the question either, but leaned over and devoured the formerhomecoming queen in a few bites. Eddie had to close his eyes for that part.

All right, he said when Venom had finished, now let’s go find Mac.

[lousimusician]

Losing Innocence -- Chapter 4

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Reader

Summary: It was astounding how much you didn't know about your best friend, and how much her past could affect your future.

Warning: Language

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Your eyes fluttered open as you felt a throbbing pain on your head. You let out a small groan and tried to assess your surroundings, but couldn't due to everything being blurry. 

"(F/N)." You heard someone say, but the voice sounded so far away. You struggled to remember what had happened before you heard the voice again. "(F/N)? Are you okay?" This time the voice was closer, so you turned your head and saw a very blurry Belle.

You groaned again, louder this time. "W-what happened?" You asked in a raspy voice.

"Your friend probably gave you a concussion, that's what." Someone else said.

You looked to the other side of you, "Who are you?" You asked the blue eyed man sitting next to you. You vaguely remembered those eyes, but you couldn't quite place them yet.

"Harrison."

Your vision became clearer and you saw that you were sitting between Belle and this Harrison guy in the back of a car. You also noticed that it was still nighttime outside. Looking towards the front of the car you saw the back of two heads.

You felt and even sharper pain in your head, you leaned over your knees and cradled your head. "Fuck." You groaned out loudly.

"She's awake?" One of the men in the front asked.

"Yeah." Harrison answered. "Belle did quite a number on her, might have a concussion."

"I'll get one of the nurses to look at her."

Your memory finally started coming back, but in bits and pieces. You remember a lot of noise and flashing...and the man from the café... and the blood...

Your eyes widened and you shot up, sending another wave of pain through your head, but you didn't focus on it. "Did y-you... Am I being kidnapped!?" You started panicking. "Oh my god, are you guys gonna kill me!? Holy shit, I'm gonna d-"

"(F/N)!" Belle shouted, cutting you off. "They're not gonna kill you!"

You turned your head to look at her, remembering her killing those men as well. "Y-you're apart of this whole thing! Why should I trust you!?" 

A hurt look crossed Belle's features. "Because I'm your best friend."

You gaped at her. "You kidnapped me."

Belle sighed, "Okay, I know how this seems. But I promise you I'm just trying to help and keep you safe."

"Safe!? That one!" You said pointing at the back of Tom's head. "Pointed a gun at me and you expect me to believe this is for my own saf- Ah! Fuck! My head really hurts." You groaned again, holding your head.

"Oh, yeah sorry about that." Belle said sheepishly, earning a glare from you.

"Where the hell are you taking me and who are all these people?"

"I'll tell you but you have to promise not to freak out."

"I don't have to promise shit."

Belle sighed again, "They're part of the mob."

You looked back up with an incredulous expression. "T-the mob!? As in the mafia!?"

"Yes, and Tom is kinda the leader, but! I swear he's going to help us."

"Why exactly do I need to be helped? You haven't exactly told me why this is all happening."

"Okay well long story short I ran away from my father who is also a leader of his own mob and Tom had been helping me hide from him."

"Great! So basically I've been kidnapped by a bunch of criminals all because my friend has a past that I have nothing to do with." You said running your hand through your hair.

Tom clenched his jaw, hating the way you spoke about the mafia as if it was below you. "I'd really watch what you say. I don't take to well to brats who don't know what they're talking about." Tom stated coldly, sending shivers down your spine.

You swallowed. "S-sorry." You stuttered out.

A silence fell over the car before Belle broke it. She cleared her throat. "(F/N), back at the club, you said you knew one of those guys."

This caught everyone's attention and you felt put on the spot. "The g-guy with the scar was at the c-café two weeks a-ago." 

"Did you talk to him?" Came Tom's stern voice.

"A l-little..Belle called me and I said her name over the phone a-and the man asked m-me about her." You said guiltily, realizing that you probably should have said something sooner and maybe all of this could've been prevented.

"You said her full name?"

"Y-yes."

"Well I guess that mystery's solved." Harrison commented sarcastically.

Tom scoffed, "Great. See Belle, the friend you wanted to save so badly is the one that put you back in this position."

Belle ignored him, "Why didn't you tell me all this after it happened."

"I-I-I didn't want to freak you out."

"Yeah a great help you were." Tom said.

"Tom! Enough with the snide remarks, alright!" Belle couldn't see it, but he rolled his eyes. "(F/N), if a strange guy was asking about me, don't you think you should've told me!" She was getting angry.

"Well maybe if you had told me you were running from the mafia instead of keeping this huge secret I would've told you!" You yelled back, equally as angry.

"You're unbelievable! A man asks about me and you thought you were being a good friend by keeping that from me!'

"Whoa! Hold on. Don't turn this around on me. You never told me anything about your past, so don't talk to me like I'm an awful friend. You were the one keeping secrets!" You and Belle glared at each other. "...Take me to the police." You said slowly.

"No." She said firmly.

"I don't want to go with you and these people. Take me home or bring me to the police."

Tom butted in again. "That's not gonna happen, sweetheart. You're already involved."

You turned to him. "You can't just kidnap me though!"

"I actually can, I'm doing it right now."

"Then...Then how long am I stuck with you people."

"Until I can finally resolve this situation and make sure you don't go crying to the police."

"How long will that take?"

Tom sighed impatiently. "You ask too many questions."

You dropped the subject, frightened by his tone. The car was silent for the remainder of the drive. The situation began to dawn on you as you finally had a quiet moment to think. You were in a car with mobsters and your best friend who wasn't too happy with you right now.

And what about your dad and Jake. They'd freak out and call the cops the moment they realized you were missing. You felt for your dad, having to deal with divorcing your mother when she decided to stay in America and now having to face the fact his daughter had gone missing. Your entire life in the span of only a couple hours was completely changed.

The car began approaching a set of gates, which you could only assume would be to Tom's house....or mansion. Your eyes widened as you looked up at the beautiful mansion. It was in a well secluded area, which only made sense for his line of work. 

The events when arriving to his place were a bit of a blur. The moment you got in, you were pulled away from Belle and the others by a nurse who cleaned and bandaged the gash on your head then checked to see if you had a concussion, which thankfully you didn't. Then one of Tom's men had to list rules that you had to follow. And there were a lot.

Then a maid had pulled you away and brought you into the room you would be staying in from now on. It was a beautiful guest room that had an amazing bathroom and walk in closet, that even held some clothing. You'd have taken your time to admire the place if you weren't exhausted. You grabbed shorts and a t-shirt from the closet that looked like they'd fit, and walked to the bathroom barefoot after discarding your heels somewhere in the room. You wiped off your ruined makeup and finally took a shower. You thought about everything that happened and broke down.

You sat under the running water, head buried in your knees as you cried.

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Tags: @Lost------girl @tom-hollands-eyelash @missgoldenpotato @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @mobtomsgirl @emmagan @embracingtom