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marvelsbanner · 4 years

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Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god. No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..” you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place.

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨2

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Thank you for your positive response to this one! I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your Spotify list of redundant tracks flowed through the apartment as you sat typing at your small desk in the corner of the front room. The boxy space was as oppressive as any office space, another reason for your voluntary work at the gallery. Vanessa let you in the studio to paint. Without the privilege, you wouldn’t have the space for your easel.

You stretched your fingers and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy from staring at the screen, even with night mode on. The work was monotonous and made you restless. You wanted a pencil or brush in hand, a canvas before you, not this blaring laptop. You yawned and took a sip of your lukewarm water.

Your phone vibrated from across the room and you checked the time. Your lunch started soon but no one was really keeping track. As long as you got your assignments done, it didn’t matter when you chewed on toast and disassociated.

You got up and grabbed your phone from the corner table and leaned against the arm of the couch. You remembered how Marcus woke up there and grumbled as he lifted his head in pain. You couldn’t really feel bad for him going into work hungover. He embarrassed you and it didn’t quite sink in until after Clark left you to stare down at your drunk boyfriend.

An unknown number showed on your screen and you answered tentatively, ready to hang up at the first sales pitch. Your name came from the speaker and you recognized the deep voice in an instant. It took you back to the night before and the canvas hung on the wall.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Clark said, “I only just had the paintings hung and I thought… well, I thought you might like to come see them in their new home.”

“Um…” you chewed your thumb, uncertain how to respond.

“Sorry, I know I can be a bit… to the point,” he laughed at himself, “how are you?”

“I’m good, just… taking a break.”

“You working?”

“Yeah, but I work from home,” you said as you touched the side of your neck, “I could… I could come see them but it might be a while before--”

“When are you finished work?” he asked bluntly.

“Four but I… maybe another day.”

“I don’t mean to be pushy but I did have something else to speak with you about,” he said, “a commission, like I mentioned.”

“Oh?”

“I kinda wanna get it started sooner than later, it will probably be pretty time-consuming,” he explained and you heard a clink and a soft sip, “I don’t wanna get into details on the phone but I promise, you will be compensated nicely.”

“You can’t wait until tomorrow?” you wondered.

“I suppose I can but it’d have to be during the day,” he responded, “why don’t you take some time to figure it out and get back to me by two? You can text me through this number.”

“Erm, sure,” you said uneasily, “I’m sorry, it’s just… very sudden, I don’t--”

“You can bring the boyfriend,” he said casually, “if you like.”

“He won’t be… home,” you said carefully, “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he replied, “have a good day.”

“You, too,” you said and the line died.

You put your phone down and took a moment. Good things rarely happened to you. You struggled so long it was hard to think that might change. The skeptic in you told you there was something behind it all. That it couldn’t possibly be your art.

You went back to your computer and sighed as you waved away the screensaver with your mouse. The blinking cursor made you want to believe it was your big break.

🎨

You texted Clark at one and at four, you were in an Uber. Marcus drove his car to work and you stuck to buses and the underground when you could. The address was at least an hour out, the house among those estates on the edge of the city reserved for the upper echelon. You’d only ever seen the sprawling yards on your way to the next town.

When the car finally turned up the drive and you passed beyond a low brick wall, you felt entirely out of your depth. You tipped the Uber but didn’t feel too bad with the check from Vanessa sitting soundly in your account. You clutched the strap of your bag and walked along the curve of the brick work towards the stairs.

“Hey,” you stopped as Clark called to you, your ankle still tender from the night before.

You glanced over as he came out of the large garage and peeled off a pair of leather gloves. He smiled as he tucked them into his jacket pocket. You watched him and played with the clasp on your bag.

“Just got back from a drive,” he said, “I almost got carried away. I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied.

“Well, come on, let me show you around,” he waved behind you towards the front doors, “we’ll go on a tour and then we can talk details.”

“Wow,” you uttered mindlessly as you climbed the stairs to the door but kept the weight on your uninjured ankle, “this place is huge.”

“My contractor went a little crazy,” he scoffed, “but I can’t complain.”

He led you through the doors and directed you to the left. In the front room, your work was hung along the opposite wall, arranged in a way that drew the eye to them. You stepped closer and peered up at your work with a hint of awe. They looked even better in a place like that.

“I had my interior designer make the final call on where to hang them,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave her your details. She said she had clients who might be interested in your work.”

“Really?” you breathed, “that’s… too nice.”

“Oh yeah? One day, you’ll be sick of rich pricks like me,” he grinned, “I’ll show you the pool, that’s usually the main attraction.”

“Sounds good,” you said as you followed but he paused and watched your stunted gait.

“I forgot, we can go slow,” he offered, “how’s the ankle?”

“I’ll make do,” you affirmed as you neared him, “just need to get my steps in.”

🎨

As you finished the tour of the second floor, you slowed along the long hall and admired the work of artists you only ever saw in museums. You couldn’t help but be enamoured by the historic blots of paint. You almost forgot where you were as you leaned in to read the initials beneath the pastel flowers.

“So,” Clark’s voice brought you back, you almost blanked him out entirely in your mind, “I think you might have noticed the empty space above the fireplace in the front room. I was hoping you could fill it.”

“Oh?” you looked at him and smiled nervously, “did you have something in mind? A landscape or--”

“Well, your portraits are great. I like the old world style. I was hoping you might do one of… me,” he suggested, “I know, it’s vain but why not?”

“I mean, yeah, I could do that,” you said.

“I’ll pay hourly plus materials,” he continued, “three hundred an hour.”

You almost choked at the number. You blinked and swallowed through your surprise.

“Even a small portrait would take at least twelve hours,” you warned, “are you sure?”

“I know it’s a lot of time for you, so… I was thinking, if you have to miss work, I’ll factor it into your rate. I would really like to get the project started as soon as we can,” he put his hand on his hip as he looked down at you, “the only thing I need from you is a list of materials. I’ll have them waiting for you here.”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I figure it makes most sense,” he turned his palm out.

“Hmm, sure, I prefer my own brushes but… you know I can just buy the stuff myself--”

“Ah, no, I want it to be perfect. You send me a list and I’ll have my assistant go out and get it all ready,” he assured, “How does Sunday sound?”

“Sunday?” you blanched. That was two days away.

“Like I said, Marcus is more than welcome to come with you,” he offered, “I’d hate to keep you from him too long.”

“I guess Sunday works,” you squeaked, “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

“Great,” he said coolly, “well, that’s business. How about a drink to seal the deal?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back,” you fiddled with your bag against your hip.

“One drink won’t hurt,” he said, “go on, call the boyfriend and let him know you won’t be much longer.”

“I… thanks,” you murmured.

“You’re humble for an artist,” he joked as he sidled by you, “once you grow an ego, you’ll be unstoppable.” He neared the stairs as you turned to watch him, “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. You like gin?”

“Sure,” you answered as you pulled out your phone, “I’ll see you down there.”

🎨

When you told Marcus about your new side gig, he was even more excited than you. You were anxious and slightly hesitant. You hated to jump in feet first and risk losing more than a few tubes of paint. What if the work wasn’t good enough?

Marcus was more than willing to come with you when you told him about the size of the place. He knew by the area that it was extravagant. You sat in the passenger seat with the most expensive bottle of wine you’d ever bought cradled between your legs. You hated to show up empty handed after all of Clark’s generosity.

Marcus got lost and went down the wrong driveway before you righted your course. As you drove up, you were once more overcome from the rich rosebuds and sparkling fountain at the centre of the mosaic. You gripped the neck of the bottle and got out as Marcus whistled in awe.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is fucking nuts,” he swore, “I should’ve worn the tux from my brother’s wedding.”

“Please, Marcus,” you rolled your eyes, “let’s both try not to break anything.”

“You’re the clumsy one,” he chirped, “shit, you’re so lucky. You get to hang out here and paint all day? God, I wish I had an ounce of artistic talent. I’d trade it for code in a minute.”

You climbed the steps and clanged the large knocker on the right door. You waited a moment before an answer came and Clark appeared on the other side and beckoned you inside. He smiled as he shook Marcus’ hand.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said, “I would’ve felt awful stealing your girlfriend on the weekend like this.”

“Are you kidding me? She said you had a pool and I snuck the swim shorts into the backseat,” Marcus chuckled and you nudged him with your elbow.

“See?” Clark arched a brow, “the pool is always the seller.”

“Here,” you said as you held out the bottle of red, “for everything you’ve done and welcoming us into your home.”

“Ohhh,” he took the bottle and looked over the label, “I got a spot for this right behind the bar. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I brought my brushes,” you patted the canvas bag on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah, well, I’ll just put this away and we’ll give Marcus the grand tour. Then I’ll get you situated,” he assured and rushed off.

He returned and pointed Marcus through to the front room, “you’ll see, just over here,” he directed him to your paintings.

“Oh, wow, babe,” Marcus marveled at the hung portraits, “you really did it.”

You smiled bashfully and Clark peeked over at you and winked. You squirmed as your cheeks burned and you turned away as he beckoned Marcus past the mantle.

“It’s a big place,” Clark said, “I’d like to get you started before noon.”

Clark led you along the same path as days before and slowed as you came back to the top of the stairs. He turned back and clapped his hands together.

“Marcus, if you wanna hop in the pool, we’re gonna start just in there,” he pointed to the one door you hadn’t looked through, “that’s the studio.”

“What about you?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ll be a part of the process so I’m afraid I will be just as busy but if you need anything, Nina, she has a crooked nose and mean mouth but don’t let her fool you, she’ll get you whatever you need,” he said, “just don’t track in water from the pool or she’ll string you up.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Some alone time in the sun and a pool,” Marcus grinned, “I really couldn’t ask for anything else… except you, babe.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, “go, have fun.”

Marcus kissed you quickly and thanked Clark again before he excitedly barreled down the steps. You scratched your neck as you looked back to your host, and you guessed, your new boss.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be such a kid sometimes,” you said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved it off, “so, you ready to see your workspace? I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, a bit last minute so it’s not perfect… yet.”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, “can’t wait.”

He motioned you over to the tall dusty rose doors and hooked his fingers in the slotted handles. He slid them open and revealed an airy room with a tall ceiling and long windows. An easel stood facing the sun streaked glass, an immense canvas bigger than yourself, bigger than him, propped up on it. There was a ladder nearby and the table was set with a rainbow of paints and a large pallet.

Your lips parted as you neared the easel and stared up at the canvas, “you were right, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I hope it’s not too much,” he said, “but you name your price. We’ll make it work.”

“No, no, I think for what you’re paying, I’ll do just fine,” you put your bag down daintily on the table, “so, uh, a portrait, I guess that means…”

Your voice trailed off as he went to the upholstered chair across the room, at an angle so you could see him from your vantage. Behind it, hung a velvet curtain to add to the scene and a bust on a pedestal. It felt surreal, like a dream.

You turned and pulled out the brushes, “I think you’ll get more tired than me, just sitting there.”

“I’ll make it through,” he assured as he sat, “is there anyway you’d like me to sit? Chin up, or…”

“Hmmm,” you turned to look at him, “I think… if you just put your shoulders back and… did you want a profile or--”

“I was thinking front-facing,” he stared at you steadily, unflinching as his eyes stuck to you, “just like this.”

“Perfect,” you said nervously and looked back to the table.

There was water to rinse your brushes, rags, pencils, blending sticks; everything you needed and more. You took a pencil from the bunch and pulled over the ladder. You climbed up and looked over at Clark as he sat stoic and still. He looked picturesque in real life, you expected paint would only lend to his figure.

His eyes met yours and you turned to start tracing the basic shapes onto the canvas. You had to stop and steady your hand as you did. His gaze made it hard not to tremble.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #series #portrait of a dangerous man #dc #dcu #au #mob au #mob!au #superman

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

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Suicidal Misunderstanding XX

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XVII - - - - Part XVIII - - - - Part XIX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“I want you to understand that what we’re going to ask of you is entirely beyond the scope of duty and therefore completely voluntary. You are more than free to refuse participation, at any point, with absolutely no consequences.”

Deep within the Healing Halls best-kept medical secret, Eights quelled beneath the full might of the GAR’s highest and most lauded Generals. Yeah I’m sure whatever they ask I’m going to want to say no. Honestly, what kind of soldiers have they been working with?

“What can I do to help, sir? Sirs?”

“I know this might be shocking, but we have reason to believe the GAR is...compromised.”

“Sir?”

Eights thought furiously. This wasn’t about the healers who were hiding them, or the Jedi his battalion never received, or the decommissioning he had escaped. This was bigger.

The General Windu spoke calmly, “We suspect that you may have been trained or conditioned at some point without your knowledge to unquestioningly follow orders, orders that would usually be beyond what you would typically obey. With your permission, we’d like to try and activate that order in a restrained environment in order to gain more information, with the hope of finding a way to help the troops resist.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. You’re just going to give me an order and ask me...not to obey it?”

General Koon nodded (General Koon! General Koon and General Windu were talking to him at the same time!). “In a manner of speaking, yes. But it’s possible that the order will do more than that. The only way we believe this could possibly work” Koon glanced to the man at his side. “And we...do believe this threat is real, is if you suffer from some form of brainwashing. Activating it might cause irreparable brain damage. Activating it might damage or kill the parts of you that make you you. Even if it doesn’t- the ideal scenario is we find something- an intentionally designed tumor perhaps- and surgically remove it. And brain surgery also has its own risks.”

Eights swallowed around a lump in his throat.

“And this is something that could be going on with...my entire batch?”

General Kenobi winced. “The entire GAR I’m afraid. Every clone.”

The General of the 212th! Commander Cody’s General was here! Talking to him! Telling him existentially terrifying ultra classified intel!

The trooper stared up from bed in disbelief. If anyone besides three of most respected generals in the entire GAR (not including Buir Ti) was telling him this he would accuse them of bantha crap fear-mongering, if not outright treason. Instead he was just...outraged.

“What would the order make me...us...do?”

Windu took a deep breath. “Attack us. Try and kill the Jedi.”

“I would never.” Eights straightened up even further. “We would never betray the Jedi- it’s- never. We were made for the Jedi and even if we weren’t- you’re the only ones who treat us with an ounce of respect.”

“No one is questioning your loyalty,” the kind Mon Cal healer (whose name he had never asked for fear of getting her in trouble if this ward was ever discovered) said, obviously trying to sooth him. She spoke with heart-breaking earnestness. “The fact that you would never choose to obey such a command just makes the possibility of something forcing you to do so that much more horrifying.”

“How would something like that even get in our heads? The longnecks designed us to serve the Jedi, why... I’m sorry Generals. I didn’t mean to get out of line.”

“No need to apologize. You have every right to be angry about this intrusion, as well as any number of things,” General Kenobi reassured him, smiling sadly. “We don’t know to what extent the Kaminoans are involved with this plot. Not precisely.”

Eights nodded, clenching his one remaining fist. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need from me. I can’t let my brothers have something this big looming over them without any intel.” I’m not exactly front-lines material anymore anyway.

“Are you sure?” Mace Windu’s eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Eights stared right back.

“I am. When do we start?”

It didn’t take long to shave the soldier and connect a number of glowing vital readers to his skull. He was ushered into a chambered observation room with what appeared to be a sfaraday cage hastily built around it.

“Alright, whenever you’re ready.” Bant (Master Eerin apparently, but she told him to call her Bant) said.

“I’m ready, sir.”

“Let’s start off small, see if we can learn anything without fully activating the order.”

General Kenobi took in a deep breath. He looked calm, but Jedi always did. The General took in another breath. Kriff, two deep breaths. That’s Jedi for freaking out, isn’t it? Right?

Fuck.

“Does Order 66 mean anything to you?” General Kenobi braced himself, staring intently at the trooper in his seat.

Eights wracked his brain furiously. Sixty-Six...that was...

“It’s...a little familiar? Sorry sir, I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere but...I can’t recall.”

“That’s perfectly alright trooper, not to worry.”

A Twilek healer he didn’t recognize spoke into a micomphone from the other side of a transparisteel window. “His frontal lobe might be lighting up a little, but it’s nothing abnormal, and not enough to triangulate for anything intrusive.”

After several variations on the same question as well as a number of scans of different ‘levels,’ the questioning escalated to orders, as well an extremely uncomfortable mock fight that he would probably tell his grandchildren about, provided he survived today, and also was allowed to have grandchildren.

Still, Eights couldn’t quite recall ever learning an Order 66 and was starting to relax, thinking the whole thing was some sort of horrible separatist lie.

They left him alone for an uncertain amount of time before returning with-

“Quickdraw?!” Eights jumped up at the sight of his commanding officer arriving via hoverchair, nervously saluting with his left hand.”I didn’t know you were here!”

“Just got out of bacta. My spine’s not quite what it used to be after the blast,” the lieutenant responded wryly. “At ease, Eights.”

“Our apologies again for waking you prematurely,” General Koon said softly.

Quickdraw waved the General off. “I’m honored you did. For something as serious this- well I’d hardly forgive myself if I just slept through it.”

Quickdraw locked eyes with Eights. “I’m supposed to try giving you ‘the order’ now- General Kenobi suspects that as your superior officer, I might be authorized to trigger whatever the hell the longnecks put in our heads.”

Eights swallowed hard. “The longnecks, sir?”

“Who else?” Quickdraw asked in a tone drier than Jakku. He spun in the chair to face General Koon. “How are we doing this?”

After a brief discussion, the troopers ended up on opposite sides of a sound-proof transparisteel divider, an comm channel open between them. Eights plugged his ears and gave the order first. And giving Quickdraw an order was almost but not quite as weird as giving an order that would apparently make him try and kill Jedi.

Nothing happened and they swapped, this time with Quickdraw using a waxy covering to block his hearing.

His lieutenant stared at him straight through the clear divider and ordered him to execute Order 66. This time he finally remembered his training, and realized he was woefully outgunned. Oh well, he was a good soldier.

Eights stood up. The only visible change in his expression was a widening of his pupils. There was no malicious intent palpable in the force- he didn’t even look angry- just determined.

He lunged at the Jedi next to him, only to hit an invisible wall. He threw himself at the barrier desperately while the traitor backed out of the room and escaped. The wall finally dropped, but it was too late, he was locked in.

Sighing, he picked up the chair with his one good arm, slamming it repeatedly at the door frame. Good soldiers follow orders.

On the other side of the observation window, Quickdraw stumbled back horrified, reaching for his ears before hesitating. General Koon softly tapped his shoulder and indicated they should leave.

“I’ve got a location.” Master Che said quietly as the lieutenant was ushered into an antechamber and the activated trooper continued to beat at the door. “It’s a small but clear patch lit up like the festival of lights- I don’t know why it didn’t turn up in scans but...I’m as confident as I can be. Worst case- it’s a small enough area that removing the grey matter shouldn’t...well it won’t kill him. It’s enough to go on for microscapel surgery.” General Koon nodded, then tilted forward, weight falling heavily in his palms on the counter before him.

Vokara rested a hand gently on his back “...I was hoping it wasn’t true as well.”

Master Koon flinched away. “I am sorry and glad to say you do not understand my feelings on the matter. I think...my apologies but I need some time to meditate.”

“Of course.”

Koon rushed out. After a moment Master Windu stepped in, radiating similar distress as Master Koon. Master Kenobi followed, looking grim but also happy.

‘Oh I’m glad Koon isn’t around him right now,’ Healer Che thought wryly.

Perhaps sensing the mood, Obi-Wan sobered.

“I’m sorry it’s just- I didn’t actually see the order get activated. Of course I believed it wasn’t a choice- and I’m obviously not glad that anyone’s will could be taken so easily-”

“You don’t have to explain anymore,” Mace offered quietly. “I can understand why seeing this would be something of a relief, all things considered.”

The Head Healer nodded in agreement before taking charge. “Kenobi, go in with Eerin and help her sedate him. I’ll prepare for surgery.”

“Wait- shouldn’t we try other permutations first? It’s possible that once activated, a clone might be able to order a superior officer-”

“And it’s also possible that if a lieutenant is activated, the entire army will turn,” Mace snapped. Obi-Wan bent his head, chastised.

“Right. Yes. I’ll go- find Bant.”

An extremely long hour later, Master Che returned from surgery. Masters Mundi, Koth, and Yoda had left to and fulfill the other thousand and one duties of a council member not unravelling a Sith conspiracy at the heart of the Republic, while Master Aerdo had been dispatched to talk with Quickdraw as well as some of the other troopers in the hidden Medical bay.

“It’s a chip,” Vokara said grimly. “Native biological material, but clearly a chip. Like you would find in a droid. Far more complex than any slave chip I’ve ever seen, and no explosive component. It would only turn up on a level five brain scan. I didn’t even think to run it before- it’s overly invasive and typically useless.”

The reduced meeting crumpled at the sight of the infinitesimally small object of control, carefully encased in a stasis slide and placed delicately on the conference table.

Proof of Obi-Wan’s future, a future that the group thought they already believed.

“We should get Master Nu,” Adi Gallia said quickly, “We’ll want our top researchers analyzing it as soon as possible.”

Koon nodded sharply. “Agreed.”

The Tholothian Master stood, “I’ll go at once- we should probably keep any mention of this off comms.”

As Master Gallia swept out of the room, Plo Koon wrenched his gaze from the stasis slide to face the healer. “Master Che, what is Eight’s status?”

“Unconscious and restrained, but he should wake up soon enough. It...might not be a bad idea to have another Jedi nearby when he does.”

Koon and Che left the room, taking the chip with them and conferring quietly.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, elbows on the table and face in his hands.

Master Windu exchanged a glance with Anakin.

Finally Obi-Wan spoke, tentatively addressing Bant, “Could it be possible for someone...besides a clone to be chipped? If Palpatine had access to them as a child...”

Bant drew back, gaze flickering to Anakin. “I- we would have to study it more-”

Anakin interrupted, shifting in his seat. ”Master- what did I do?”

“It- it wasn’t you. It wasn’t you anymore that the person who fired on me was Cody.”

Bant exchanged a glance with Mace, before clearing her throat with a soft gurgle. “Perhaps we should leave the two of you alone to talk this through.”

The Mon Cala Healer stood and exited rapidly. Windu exchanged a glance with Skywalker before he left. “Talk through everything, understood?” Anakin nodded.

The door shut, leaving Master and Padawan alone. “I feel like I’m missing more than two and a half days,” Obi-Wan muttered wryly. “I don’t remember you three having a non-verbal communication system consisting of eye-contact alone before.”

Anakin chuckled once then immediately grew somber, picking at a loose thread in the sleeve of his robe. A thousand thoughts were swirling in his head, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I- did I hurt you? Is that- is that why you stabbed me, you thought you were defending-”

“I did what?!” Obi-Wan paled, jumping up from his seat.

Anakin winced. “It’s nothing, that’s actually not important. I’m healed anyway so forget I mentioned it-”

Obi-Wan moaned, stumbling backwards over the fallen chair. “Of force- when you were trying to save me- I had a blade. I cut you down-” He tripped backwards, collapsing to the ground.

“Master!” Anakin lurched forwards, but the older Jedi scrambled back.

“I forgot my spray bottle in there,” Bant whispered outside the door. “Do you think it’s too late to go back for it?”

Mace peered subtly through the small window in the door. “Yes. They’re already on the ground. I think they’re both crying.”

“It’s been less than a minute!”

“Yes.”

“...We should go.”

“Yes.”

Unaware of their muffled audience, the two continued their conversation.

“Don’t- don’t touch me!” Obi-Wan gasped, back hitting a wall. “I don’t- I don’t deserve-”

The young knight reared back, falling from a crouch to his knees, “Is this...about the Tuskens again?

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. “The Tuskens? What about Tuskens?”

“You don’t...remember?” The air grew cold and Anakin forced himself to continue, “What- what we talked about in the cave?”

“What we- I-” Obi-Wan thought furiously. “...Anakin. What did...what were you apologizing for in the cave? What- what did you think we were talking about?”

“Oh gods.” Anakin paled now, shuffling back.

“What are they doing now?” Bant asked the taller Master.

“They’re taking turns chasing each other back and forth on their hands and knees. They both look like they’re seconds away from passing out or throwing up.”

“I...is this a human thing?”

“No. What? Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know! Do you think this is how they usually talk to each other?”

“I think perhaps they don’t talk to each other, and that’s why they’re like this.”

“Right, right... I really want to hear what they’re saying.”

“Hm. I don’t.”

“Why are you also standing outside the door then?”

“I want to be ready to intervene if they start trying to kill each other.”

“FORCE”

“Quiet!”

“Sorry. Sorry. You think they fought then? In the...other timeline?”

“...It would explain Obi-Wan’s shatterpoint remnants better than anything else.”

“Not to mention the spice.”

“I thought we were politely ignoring the spice.”

“...and then I brought her back to the homestead for burial.” Anakin bowed his head, tears streaming against his will. “I thought...Master I know I can’t fix this but I’m sorry- I already stepped down from my position as General so I wouldn’t be in a position to kill anyone else- I need you to forgive me.”

“Oh Anakin.”

“What? What happened?” Bant asked urgently.

The Master of the Order appeared unruffled in the force and human visible light, but the tips of his ears were heating up in infrared. She stood on her toes to see in.

“Oh- they’re hugging? Seriously? That’s what you’re embarrassed to see?”

“They’re clinging to each other like younglings. It’s undignified for a Jedi Master and Knight”

“Alright that’s it- we’re going. I really don’t think Anakin’s going to jump from crying and hugs to murder.”

Unaware of their newfound privacy, the two inside withdrew from their embrace, still sniffling slightly.

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said in a shaky tone. “I swear I won’t let you down, I’m going to do better.”

“I know, my padawan, I know. I’m going to be there to help you this time, I’m not going to leave you alone with- well I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Anakin smiled wetly at Obi-Wan’s careful avoidance of Chancellor Palpatine’s supposed Sith alter ego, refocusing on Obi-Wan and making intense eye contact.

“What did you think we were talking about?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “It- it never happened.”

“Ori’vod, please. You- you mentioned younglings. I did something else unforgivable didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan smiled but didn’t look up. “And i forgave you anyway. Even when I thought your apology was just a fantasy. But it wasn’t, it was real, and- and the people actually are unmurdered so...it’s not worth talking about it.”

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek, gut roiling. “You...really think I might have a chip in me?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped up. “I...don’t know. I didn’t even know that Cody had a chip in him.”

“You just...were suddenly betrayed by everyone.”

“Not...everyone. Most who refused to fall in line were executed, of course, but there were a few senators who stood with the Jedi, secretly.”

A new wave of cold terror passed over Anakin. “What happened with the other senators?”

“Like I said to the council earlier, from what I heard they cheered Palpatine on. Thunderous applause.”

“That’s not what I mean- Padme, Was Padme alright?”

Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands, shuddering.

“Anakin- I don’t know what to tell you,” he said in muffled voice. “I don’t want to deceive you but- things were dark. If I tell you everything now, I’m afraid of what you’ll do.”

Anakin winced. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’m not...evil. I just...I messed up, and I want to make things better.”

Obi-Wan sighed, and pulled Anakin so they were seated next to each other in a mirror of the false peace a few days earlier. Anakin leaned into his Master’s side, feeling the cold retreat. “You’re not evil Anakin, but what you did to the Tusken village wasn’t exactly a small thing. I- look- Ad’ika-”

Obi-Wan hesitantly placed an arm around Anakin’s shoulder and the cold retreated a bit more.

“If the council accepts my plan, we’re going to have time together over the next few weeks, to talk more about...everything. We’re going to end the war- save everyone. I know the cave wasn’t what either of us thought it was, but it still meant the galaxy to me. I love you, no matter what...and that conversation, what you said. Well, it gave me the strength to go on, to do what I needed to.” Obi-Wan froze. “Not my, um, self-inflected injuries- that’s- obviously that wasn’t your fault-”

“You thought you were hallucinating. I know.” Anakin smiled, feeling honestly amused at the absurdity situation for the first time. “I’m going to mock you for that for the rest of our lives, you know that, right?”

“I look forward to it.” Obi-Wan smiled.

A vise that had been clenched around Anakin’s heart since he broke down the door to their apartment finally relaxed. “You really weren’t trying to kill yourself,” he sighed happily.

“I was attempting to stay alive. Honestly concerned about dehydration. I wanted to stay in the daydream, but I knew I couldn’t. And part of that was because you gave me the strength to keep going. Sorry I did such a bad job honoring that but, well. You know. Thank you, Anakin. For saving me twice over.” Obi-Wan’s voice was utterly earnest, though it was a touch more embarrassed than he was used to after the single day of utter unrestraint.

Anakin’s eyes welled up. “I’ve been- I hated that you would just leave like that, give up-”

“Never Anakin,” Obi-Wan vowed. “I will never give up on you, or this galaxy.”

He twisted so he could throw both arms around his padawan.

“I swear by everything I am I will keep going. It’s... in my nature but gods is it easier with you besides me.”

“Even though i’m a child murderer twice over and once removed?” Anakin joked weakly, clinging desperately to Obi-Wan’s presence.

Obi-Wan shuddered. “Too soon, Anakin. Too soon.”

Part XXI

#star wars #my au #star wars au no 27 #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au #starwars

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lifeiszestyy · 2 years

Text

Melody

*A Sparkle Star Galaxy short story*

Day 4 of @writersmonth - melody / fashion world AO3

Summary: Brass meets Yuurei on the Starship Mario. Yuurei belongs to @juliettelime

Date: Red Mushroom 31, 4510 Scenario: During the events of Super Mario Galaxy 2 Setting: Starship Mario, the Galaxy Characters: Brass (16) + Yuurei (15)

Brass twirls the push broom as he dusts the main pathway of the Starship Mario. He hums a little melody as he rolls on his skates, dancing amid the small dust clouds that pick up around him. He senses someone’s eyes boring into him, but when he looks up, no one’s there.

Or so it seems. His sensors are picking up something that he can’t see.

“Hello?” he calls out. He doesn’t sense hostility. He cautiously rolls over to the invisible spot in front of him and waves his arm. His arm moves through the air, but his sensors indicate an abrupt drop in temperature in the area in front of him. He closes his eyes and recalls his records on who else joined the Starship crew.

“Excuse me,” Brass says, his voice monotone. “My apologies for my rudeness. I cannot see you, but I can sense your presence. If I am intruding on your space, please indicate that it is so, and I will leave.”

“No,” whispers a voice so quiet, he can barely hear. “It’s okay…”

“Ah… You’re a Boo, correct? Your name is Yuurei?”

“Yes…” After a brief pause, the voice says, “I’m a Dark Boo.”

“A Dark Boo?” Brass rapidly scans his files. “I don’t have any data on Dark Boos. Is that a type of subspecies on Astraea?”

“Yes…”

Brass smiles. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Brass. I look forward to working with you here on the ship.”

The space in front of Brass distorts visually, and a teenage girl manifests in front of him. She’s pale with striking purple hair cut just above her shoulders, black eyes with glowing yellow pupils staring out from under the shadow cast by straight bangs.

She holds the ends of her purple skirt and curtsies elegantly. “My apologies for… not introducing myself.”

“It’s alright. I’m not offended, although, were you watching me?”

A faint blush colors her cheeks, and she flickers for a moment. “I… Well… You were humming my song.”

“Your song? Oh, then it was you that I heard when I first arrived?”

She holds her arms and frowns. “I didn’t know that Mario was going to… bring more guests.”

“Well, I’m less of a guest and more of a voluntary crew member.” He ponders on her words and says, “Are you a guest?”

“Yes… I ended up here by mistake.”

“I see.” When she hugs her arms more tightly, he says, “Well, I’m sure everything will work out okay. I don’t know Mario very well, but they say he’s a hero, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. He’s saved my home… countless times.”

Brass adjusts his goggles and says, “I’ve seen him in action, and I must say, it’s inspiring the way he effortlessly collects treasure and trounces enemies while avoiding danger. It’s pretty dangerous this far out in the galaxy. Not a lot of baseline humans around, you know?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, if you ever need a guide or protection, I’m here. I love helping out.”

“Um… if you don’t mind… What are you?”

“Me? I’m a Gearmo!”

“No… I mean… What do you do?”

Brass smiles softly. “Oh, I’m just a janitor. For now, at least.”

“You don’t look like a janitor.”

“Oh, well, I’ve always wanted to be a performer, so I dress the part. I want to travel and play music, but it’s a bit difficult to do so without a ship and a crew. Most travelers around here are part of the space patrol. I can protect myself, but I don’t really want to join the space patrol.”

Yuurei fades away slightly. “I like… your outfit.”

“Oh, thank you! I tailored it myself.” He smiles brightly. “I like your outfit, too.”

Yuurei disappears from sight.

Brass rubs the back of his head and smiles sheepishly. “Well, I should probably get back to work.”

Yuurei reappears and says, “The path looks clean to me… You should take a break. I can make tea. Do you drink tea…?”

“I’m equipped to consume perishables, yes.”

“That’s… Uh…”

“I can drink tea.” He bows his head. “I look forward to it.”

Yuurei smiles softly. “This way…”

#writersmonth2022 #zest writing #sparkle star galaxy

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journey-to-the-attic · 3 years

Note

Can I ask for your thoughts on how a future IK would react to the kid event going on right now?

sorry it took me a while to get to this! i had to actually play through the event first and i didn't get to finish it until yesterday ^^ i've tried to make this a little longer to make up for it!

by the way, if any of y'all want to send in more asks like this about post-season one events or pop quizzes, please do! it might take a bit to answer, but i love writing them! ^^

notes on a jtta version of the 'i kid you not' event are under the cut!

so we'll separate this entire situation into two phases, phase one being Absolute Hell, and phase two being generally softer and cuter

we will spend more time on phase two because obviously that's the part we all care about

so! phase one:

ik has never been more stressed in her entire life

she's not good with regular human kids, how is she expected to deal with THESE guys??

and remember this - everyone looks the same as they usually do. same faces, same bodies, same... heights.

so you've got twelve four-year-olds bumbling about the house of lamentation, and ELEVEN out of these twelve four-year-olds are like six heads taller than her. the one exception is luke and he's roughly the same height as her, give or take an inch or two

nearly every single time she attempts to tell one of others to calm down or stop pouring juice all over the carpet, the response is something along the lines of "i don't have to listen to you, you're SMALL"

they aren't deliberately attempting to be mean because they still have that subconscious voice going 'no that is the Good Kid and she is for protecting and not for bullying'

but gosh darn, if ik isn't about to lose her mind

beel is following her around constantly asking for food, and he keeps batting at her when she's too occupied with something else to respond

he means it innocently but he's so BIG and unable to control his strength in this state, so he's basically sucker punching her into the next week every single time

and mammon does not understand that he's not small enough to run into her without bulldozing her directly into the floor

OH and you know that brutal honesty kids will have? both diavolo and asmo have it in droves and they does not let up on it

i will spare you the details of what they say but all i will say is that they individually verbally rip ik to shreds with oblivious sunny smiles on their faces the entire time

there are so many guys to try to take care of as well so ik is just constantly wandering around attempting to keep everyone happy

she's not in any one room for longer than fifteen minutes at a time, but doing about twenty different things in that space of time - breaking up squabbles, cleaning up messes, straightening out furniture, etc, etc

the boys do kind of calm down after the first few hours though

thank the lord because ik was probably about to pass out

actually she does pass out but at least it's voluntary, and she does it somewhere comfy

and so we enter phase two!

having spent basically the entirety of phase one on the verge of tears, ik is out cold for a good while

she's chosen to hide in lucifer's study, so it takes a hot second for the four year olds to find her

it's belphie who wanders in and finds her curled up in one of the chairs, but instead of telling anyone or waking her up he just plonks himself on the floor next to the chair and goes to sleep as well

by the time ik wakes up, the house is suspiciously quiet...

her first thought is 'oh god they've escaped'

then solomon, who's kind of got more adult awareness than everyone else, comes in and explains things

turns out he attempted to give everyone a lecture about the whole situation. most of it flew over everyone's heads (including his own, because to be honest he wasn't entirely sure what he was saying), but they did at least understand that they should tone it down a bit before ik went stir-crazy

in any case most of them have run out of that manic toddler energy anyway, so everyone's more mellow

they're still restless though (as kids often are), so ik takes a deep breath, scribbles out a plan, stuffs her pockets with random sweets she finds in the kitchen, and sets off

all the kids need to be placated/kept busy so that she can start cleaning up their mess without more being made

twelve four-year-olds, one barely-even-qualified-as-a-teenager. mission begin!

lucifer's still into music even in this state of mind, so ik gets him busy by teaching him how to plonk out 'the incy wincy spider' on the piano in the music room and giving him a sweet for each phrase he plays correctly

he doesn't say out loud that he likes the sweets but he smiles every time he gets one and stuffs it into his own pocket, presumably for later

then ik leaves him to it and he just sits there playing the tune over and over - he doesn't even need the sweets as incentive anymore

one child down, eleven to go

ik figured out ages ago that if you take off your shoes, you can slide around in the living room in your socks like you're on an ice-skating rink, so she enlists levi, beel, diavolo and mammon in this game

it's a lot easier for her because smaller = less weight and less weight = less friction, and less friction = more slip n slide

the demons do seem to get the hang of it, but they also keep sliding directly into her, and ik's not sure if they're doing it on purpose or not

on the one hand, as four-year-olds, are they even capable of acting like it was an accident that well?

on the other, the way they keep giggling furiously every time they nearly bowl her over is a little suspicious...

they start a game of tag that quickly devolves into basically a game of bumper cars, but without the cars

diavolo trips over and faceplants multiple times and every time he just lies there waiting for ik to come help him up since he apparently has no motor function of his own

mammon and beel basically take it in turns winning because mammon's the fastest and beel was already capable of knocking everyone present over easily (with the exception of diavolo, but he's already falling on his own)

levi's wailing half the time because he can barely stand up before mammon's barging into him again, but then ik comforts him by giving him some of the sweets in her pocket so he goes from :(( to :DDDD real quick

except that was a bad idea, because the other three immediately zero in on the candy and charge directly for her

she manages to free herself from the horde for long enough to divvy up a fair amount for each boy

now placated, they settle quickly back into their game, and ik quickly sidles out to move onto the next batch of kids

five down, seven to go

belphie was still sleeping on lucifer's study floor last time she checked, so that's where she heads next

you have to go through the library to get to the study, though, and it's in the library that ik finds solomon and satan attempting to make a human tower to get at one of the books on the top-most shelf

(there's a stepladder in the library for this exact purpose since even beel can't reach that particular shelf without jumping, but neither solomon nor satan have remembered it exists)

solomon's attempting to make himself a stool but every time satan tries to climb onto him he just collapses

satan's getting so irritated by this that he just starts fuckin stamping on solomon's back

luckily ik butts in before he starts using any real force and suggests using magic... or just, you know, using that stepladder

then when they finally get the book they wanted down, they decide they don't want to read it anymore

ik just sighs, smiles a bit, then offers to find a different book

satan and solomon are arguing over a fantasy novel and a historical adventure, so ik just grabs both

she sits on the big sofa with satan and solomon sat cross-legged in front of her and reads the first chapter of each book to them while they listen intently

at this point belphie emerges from the study and immediately throws himself onto the sofa, curls up next to her, and goes back to sleep

in the end ik just gives satan and solomon their individual books and leaves them to read through the rest on their own

(she also leaves behind a little heap of sweets for sharing but everyone's too occupied by their own thing to pay attention to them)

eight down, four to go!

next up are simeon and luke, who are playing some kind of cowboy game in the common room!

(no i don't know how they know what cowboys are, just go with it)

ik walks in and has the game explained to her through a series of excited babbling and hand gestures, and dubs herself 'gunman mcgun', which luke and simeon seem to think is the funniest thing ever

luke pretends to shoot her and she pretends to die and both angels immediately start panicking

luke genuinely begins crying because he thinks he just killed his best friend

ik quickly performs an elaborate 'resurrection' of herself and reassures both that she is, in fact, not dead

then simeon pretends to shoot her and she pretends to die again and it all happens again except this time simeon's the one crying

she comforts both angels with a hug and some sweets and suggests that maybe they shouldn't play a game about cowboys killing each other if they get this upset about her 'dying'

then she suggests a game using the sweets she's given them, like one where they're in a world made entirely out of candy, and they can eat a sweet e.g. for each candy monster they defeat

this is a very exciting concept to the angels, so they get started with that game immediately. ik leaves a few more sweets so that they don't run out too quick and takes her leave

ten kids down! two to go!

she tracks barbatos down to the kitchen pretty quickly, and discovers him sat sulkily in the corner, covered in flour

apparently he'd wanted to bake something, but his hand-to-eye coordination isn't what it usually is, so he'd tipped the flour all over himself and the floor

ik (trying very hard not to laugh because he looks like casper the friendly ghost) gets him to his feet and helps him pat himself down with a tea towel

he's still lightly floured, but he is mostly clean, so ik quickly shoos him into the dining room so that she can sort out the flour mess

barbatos isn't happy about that but ik cheers him up with the promise of a tea party

so she puts the kettle on while she sweeps up the flour (and gets herself generously dusted in the process), and barbatos waits in anticipation in the dining room, kicking his legs about restlessly

asmo flies into the kitchen while ik's trying to find the tea set and just starts sobbing on her because he tried to make himself pretty but now his comb's stuck in his hair and none of his clothes fit right and nothing is going how it's supposed to and everything sucks and— and— and—

it takes a good five minutes to calm him down and barbatos is getting antsy, but occupies himself with hitting things with a fork to see what nosiest they make

once ik's helped asmo get the comb out of his hair and brush out his tangles, wipe off the lipstick smeared on his cheek, put his jacket back on the right way around and wash the glitter from his hands, the kettle's long since boiled

asmo follows her into the dining room when she goes through with the teapot, sugar jar, milk jug and cups and saucers, so she invites him to join barbatos's tea party in her place (she still has other stuff to clean up, after all, and she wants to quickly check in on everyone else too)

barbatos doesn't seem too happy about it but he does begrudgingly agree, and he seems content when ik has to re-teach him how to handle a teapot

and asmo's having a great time... sprinkling sugar all over the tabletop....

just another thing to clean up...... better add it to that list of like a hundred items................

ik is just so tired by now but she gets started anyway

first there's the mess of glitter and make-up in asmo's room, then the juice soaked into the entrance hall carpet, then the paint smears on henry 2.0's tank, then the sheets that have been yanked off of all the beds..............

by the time she's done she's about ready to die on the spot, but she manages to drag herself up into the attic for some peace and quiet (since simeon and luke have decided to make her room a part of their game)

honestly at this point she probably wouldn't notice if the boys started killing each other

luckily the spell's beginning to wear off so they're all well-behaved while she buries herself in the attic bed and goes to sleep

congratulations, ik! you've survived the 'i kid you not' event!

now get ready for about an hour of sheer panic when everyone is back to normal and the house is spick and span, but completely void of any human children, and they all go ballistic trying to figure out where ik went

this will be followed by five hours of ik being fussed over because she looks like death and seems to have gotten herself sick through sheer emotional (and physical) exhaustion

but that's a whole other set of notes!

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

Text

Motion Sickness Chapter 70

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"So they're letting you out?" Ruby asked.

"Well I've been in out-patient care and I got out of in-patient care." I shrugged. They were giving me my weapon back with a hefty fine and time-served. I guess they were desperate for reformed huntsmen on the right side of the law.

And my psychiatrist had eagerly pressed me through as truly reformed. I'd had to sit in front of a judge for my sentencing but my psychiatrist had explained who I was and the extenuating circumstances I had been through. A mind control semblance was the declassified word.

Horrifying.

"That's it then? You're free?" Ruby wondered.

"All horizons," I told her.

"Atlas law requires you to see a therapist for nine weeks minimum," Weiss cut in on my other side. "For the PTSD related issues."

"This fucking continent." I clenched a fist.

"It's for your own good. Better to not fight it and come out of it with something." Weiss said.

"I can't believe you're getting off so easily," Blake muttered.

"Hey did you get a deal like this once?" I asked. "And you weren't even mind controlled."

She looked away and said nothing. Truly reformed huntsmen were hard to come by and it was easier to snatch them up where they appeared. My psychiatrist, therapist, and neurologist all greenlit me.

"Speaking of, how are those meds they have you on treating you?" Weiss asked.

"They're sedating. But I'm managing. The ones they had me on before this batch gave me terrible nightmares."

"Is that how it works?" Weiss wondered.

"It's not an exact science. There's some guessing involved to find some that work for you."

"And these ones work for you?" Yang asked.

I waggled a hand. "I miss THC and CBD but this seems like a close second."

"The doctors said that those were both exacerbating your symptoms," Weiss wedged in.

"Those doctors have never had an alien goddess in their mind." I was met with a loud silence. They weren't sure what to say when I said something like that. No one was. Because no one knew what I was going through besides my sisters wherever they are. I paced forward. "So this is Atlas Academy?"

"We'll have to talk to the General about getting you a room," Ruby muttered.

"Oh I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." Yang rolled her eyes. "I mean, no offense."

"Yeah well I have to serve my time somehow. Military service is probably it for somebody like me. With my particular set of skills."

"But will he trust you?" Weiss asked.

"Better question. Should I be trusted or will I sell you all out to Salem again?" I asked.

"You didn't sell us out. You brought us the relic," Ruby said.

"I… I killed Ren and Nora, Ruby." I couldn't believe her. She still believed in me.

"That wasn't you," she denied. Maybe she even believed it. I couldn't be sure with Ruby. Well I could. She was just hard to look at because of it.

"It wasn't not me. I have a lot to atone for, and I might do it again."

"You broke her control over you once," Weiss reminded me. She led the way through grey halls up to the headmaster's office.

"I keep telling everyone I have no idea how I did that though."

"You're not exactly selling me on this. On you," Blake informed me.

"Not really trying to. I'm trying to remind you how dangerous I really am. How much of a liability I could be. It's important."

"Cloud, how does this whole time served thing work?" Yang asked.

"That's a little up to Ironwood. He could send me anywhere but he sort of has to accept me somewhere. That's what the judge ruled. He's not a dictator. Not yet at any rate."

"It'll probably be better if you don't talk to him like that," Weiss said. "He won't appreciate it."

"You're probably right." I sighed. We took a grey elevator up to his office. It provided a scenic look out over the tundra and parts of Mantle.

Neo was out there somewhere. I contacted her and let her know I was watching for Cinder from this side and promised to let her know if anything was going down. I was sure she was managing just fine without me though. I was on the inside now. I could watch for Cinder better from here. I'd just have to trust that Neo would show up when it was opportune. I just hoped she wouldn't think I was abandoning her or the cause. Because I wasn't. I was still in camp ‘murder Cinder’ and she was a big girl, she could look after herself if only for as long as this charade lasted. It couldn't go on forever. Eventually I'd slip up and something Salem related would happen.

I also let her know I was getting some serious psychological help for the psychosis. She seemed neutral about that, though. Maybe she thought I was doing just fine. I hadn't been but I was glad she thought that.

Ironwood wasn't in when we arrived. That left us waiting outside for a bit. You couldn't really expect him to be in at all times.

Winter Schnee was there though. She gave me an icy glare and I just smiled back at her wolfishly.

"Oh, it's you," she said.

"Right back at you. How's the throat?"

"Just fine, thank you. You won't surprise me again."

"I don't need surprise to beat you," I told her. "You're fragile. Like glass. I was worried about breaking you. On accident. And don't think that becoming a maiden will bail you out. I almost killed Cinder and I was weaker then by a country mile."

"Weiss, you told him?" She looked shocked.

"He already knew. All about the bunker and what was in it." Weiss responded calmly.

"Neo and I did some digging in that department," I said.

"Ah yes, your criminal partner. Any idea where she is right now?" Winter asked.

"I have no idea." I told her honestly. "I have had no contact with her since my voluntary imprisonment," I then lied. I mixed the truth with lies.

"I see. Well should you remember anything Atlas would consider that necessary information."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I ought to teach you respect."

"Many have tried. Like my Mother. "

Her eyes gleamed, spotting weakness. "You meant Salem, I am sure."

"I did…" I trailed weakly.

"Winter, that's enough. Leave him be. Family is complicated and he didn't ask to be born to that monster. You and I should have some empathy for that," Weiss said.

Winter sighed down at Weiss. "Weiss…"

The general walked in and spotted us. He noticed Jaune armed with his weapon.

"They gave you your weapon back, so soon?" Ironwood asked.

"A week and half isn't that soon," I muttered. "I'm here for my assignment."

"I see. And team RWBY is…"

"Moral support," I granted.

"Have a seat Mr. Arc."

"It's Strife now."

"You changed your name, then."

"Arc was a fake name anyway. It was the name my parents gave me." I took a seat. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence I just said. Most people were given their names by their parents. Most people just didn't hate their parents like I did.

"I can respect that. Ozpin has recommended an assignment close by for you. I'm less convinced."

"He did? Why?" I asked.

"He wants to see if you are capable of his and Salem's kind of magic. He wants to train you if that is that case."

"Oh," I hadn't thought of that. "Well I did give his current body some training. Maybe he just wants to pay it forward."

"Perhaps. And he's done a great deal to protest your innocence. You should be grateful to him."

"Then I am."

"I have decided you will work out of this Academy. For the time being at least."

"You want me where you can keep an eye on me," I deduced.

"Things will go smoother if you have more trust in me than that. I am sure your therapists will have been trying to work through your paranoid thinking with you. Not everyone is trying to watch you, Mr. Strife." He steepled his fingers.

"But I'm pretty sure you are." Weiss elbowed me fairly hard in the side. "Regardless of your reasons for doing it I am grateful."

"I was hoping we could talk more about how you were made. You explored Merlot's laboratory and might have insights for me," he probed.

"I actually explored two different labs. I ran into someone in the second, near here in Solitas. Near a place called Nibelheim. He was a man with a mustache and a navy suit with yellow trimmings. He had green eyes and dark hair. I didn't see his weapon, though. He never used it. He said he was the one who made my sisters before he tried to use the laboratory…” I struggled for the word. “Defenses? To try and kill me."

"I see. But you found no more information on you or your sisters there?" He asked.

"No. Just more of my father's usual experiments on the Grimm. Something to do with turning them blue. I'm really not sure. The lab in Anima was like that too except he was turning them green and there were humanoid Grimm that he had designed. They were loose and in tanks in the facility. Tanks not dissimilar to the one he grew me in."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Weiss's comforting aura drew in beside mine. She tasted like whipped cream and clear crisp crushed ice.

"And he grew you in one of these… 'tanks?'" Ironwood asked.

"An incubator of some sort, I'm sure. But to me they were just these sort of pods. Merlot's book has more notes on the one he used for me. It was a bit different than the others. He grew me from a fetus until I was nearly an adult in just a year," I said.

"That would make you young. Like Penny Polendina." His brow went up at me.

"Yeah. Something like that. I'm between three and four years old. I don't have an exact date for my birthday either. Don't remember if they ever gave me one or if it really matters considering I didn't have a birth," I informed him. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

“A great deal. About your origins. How you came to Beacon. Whether you have any insights into Salem’s weaknesses.”

“I don’t really know. And I’ll remind you that I am just a failure, after all." I wasn't really meant to last. I was just a prototype.

"Cloud..." Ruby whined behind me. The noise she made sounded like she was sad for a dog. It wasn't a good sound.

I ignored her. "I don’t really know how I came to attend Beacon. I don’t have any insights into Salem’s weaknesses. From my perspective she seems pretty unstoppable."

"It's impossible to say." Ironwood returned. "But if we should come up with a way to divorce you from her we will let you know."

"Thank you for telling me," I said.

"Of course. Now, let's see what you can do Mr. Strife."

"Finally, something I'm good at."

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I glid through the training chamber at one of the Ace Ops members. I hadn't learned their names but he had a boomerang rifle and he was a dog faunus.

I caught up to him and swung twice horizontally in two enormous strikes that buffeted him around when he tried to block.

He jumped back and tried to fire at me but my profile was low as I came at him in an unrelenting fashion. I palmed a dust crystal and hit him with a lightning bolt that knocked him to his knees.

I came at him with a diagonal cut when another Ace Operative grabbed me with extensions of his aura. He tried to stop me in place but I jumped and twirled and cut at his golden aura. I severed the extended hands and the removed parts dissolved into fading golden light.

I front-flipped, moving on to the new target. I landed up on some of the glowing cubes in the training room. He reformed his hands and tried to beat me but I just sliced through. I flew at him with both hands on my broadsword.

My sixth sense called out to me and I flicked my sword up to block the boomerang rifle. It rebounded back to its user and he opened fire on me as I went after the wacky inflatable arm guy.

I closed the gap on the pillar he stood on and slashed through his aura arms that got in my way. I kicked him off the pillar and brought my sword down on his head. I cleaved deep into his aura and still I chased him as I blew him to the ground level with a massive overhead attack.

He had a lot of aura. He might be the only person I'd ever met in my own percentile of aura. He might even have more than me.

I chased him as he fell from when I slammed him and I beat him to the ground. I Cross Slashed him before he hit the ground. The devastating combination caught him up. The five move slashing attack tore away at his golden aura.

My Limit Break activated.

The dog faunus came around a corner and opened fire on me. I switched opponents again as I flew at him. I held my weapon between us and blocked most of his bullets. The few that got through pinged off my aura. I slashed upwards at him and he rolled to the side with a yelp.

I just stepped up on him again and swung upwards once more. Once he was airborn I had him right where I wanted him. I juggled him once. Then twice. Then again. He couldn't escape from the aerials I swung up at him.

I jumped up to match his height and Octa Slashed him with my Limit Break. He flew towards the ground and slammed into a pile of the boxes.

His light blue aura flowed to place over him before it vanished. I flew down on him in a swooping fashion and tackled him and carried him all the way to a wall of the arena. I stabbed my sword into the ground and beat the aura out of him with my fists. I punched him in the jaw. Then the stomach. Then I picked him up and slammed him into the ground.

Golden arms wrapped around me and picked me up and threw me across the room. I slammed into a pile of boxes back first. My head rocked back against the boxes. I stood up and put my sword against my shoulder.

The wacky arm guy landed next to the dog faunus and helped him to his feet. They turned to stare at me. I stared right back.

A golden arm slithered towards me across the ground and snagged my leg. It picked me up and slammed me face first into the ground. Then it rotated me and slammed me into the ground the other way.

Then it held me in the air and I got rocked by a boomerang to the face.

I snarled and cut myself free.

I landed on a pocket of air and descended towards the ground. I flew at the two of them through machine gun fire. An arm slashed at my side and I grunted but I cut through the next one and kept flying.

I landed between them and just to flex I charged my semblance to full. Then I swept my sword through the dog faunus's aura. He went down in a light blue crackle. He was lucky I hadn't hurt him for real.

I came at the next guy with a front-flip. I brought my sword down on him and he blocked with his aura. Even still my sword bit deep. I kicked him in the middle of the chest and he stumbled back a step. Then I flew at him with a knee and caught him in the face.

A golden claw slashed me to the ground but I never hit. Instead I floated on a pocket of air and rotated in place. I swept my blade around me and forced him back a half step.

The dog faunus stood up. "Marrow, don't!"

'Marrow' opened fire right into my back.

I whipped around and glared at him. I snarled. I hit him in the head with the blunt side of my weapon and he crumpled like a sack of bricks with a large bruise forming on the side of his head.

"Do you want to call this here?" I asked the one still standing. "Or do I have to beat you into unconsciousness, too?"

"I'll surrender. You fought well." The remaining man said sibilantly.

I nodded and put my weapon in the harness on my back. I hope there was more to Ace Ops than this.

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-WG

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

MDZS Prompt: In Chinese mythology, the Dragon's Gate is located at the top of a waterfall cascading from a legendary mountain. If a carp successfully makes the jump, it becomes a dragon.

sequel to dragon NHS (also on ao3)

There were places where humans were not, and have never been, welcome.

It was more than just a feeling – the rocks reached out to trip your feet, hoping to break your neck; the trees lashed out with branches and refused to burn when cut, hoping to see you freeze; the clear water abruptly turned polluted if it even suspected you wanted to drink.

And then there was the weather.

Nie Mingjue staggered when the heavenly lightning arced down towards him for the countless time. It was almost as if it realized that simply giving warning blows wasn’t enough, escalated to strikes with murderous intentions, and then to its frustration realized that it wasn’t as easy to kill him.

At least, not by hitting him with lightning.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his neck, where the scars of Jin Guangyao’s treatment of him still remained – it was uncomfortable, having a weak point like that, especially one that was so obvious, but he supposed it was better than the alternative of still being dead.

In fact, this entire trip was only possible courtesy of the toughness of his resurrected body, courtesy of Wei Wuxian’s only somewhat voluntary assistance. He’d tried to apologize later, but Wei Wuxian had only cried from laughter until he nearly choked himself to death – apparently, hearing Nie Mingjue refer to his little brother turning into a gigantic dragon in order to threaten people into doing as he wanted as being “in a snit” was all the payment he required.

The Yiling Patriarch was a very strange man, Nie Mingjue decided, and side-stepped the next bout of lightning.

The only problem with being a fierce corpse was that it depended on resentment – and for all that Nie Mingjue’s temper was notorious, it was more like fireworks, burning bright but swift, than it was long-lasting; unless he was continuously stimulated, he would be more inclined to forgive than hold a grudge.

(He shouldn’t have forgiven Jin Guangyao.)

But his enemies were dead now, the author of his demise thoroughly destroyed in his name; there was very little to be resentful about. Nie Mingjue was not Wen Ning, who kept his grievances hidden so deeply inside his heart that even he himself did not know them; he was too straightforward for that. His resentments in life were slowly being relieved, one by one, and when they were gone there would be nothing to keep him from entering the cycle of reincarnation.

Nothing to keep him here, by Nie Huaisang’s side.

And that was intolerable.

Nie Huaisang might be a dragon, his life longer than most cultivators; he might have access to that secret place where the Nie dragons retreated; he might be perfectly capable of executing a decade-long revenge plan – in the end, he was still Nie Mingjue’s little brother.

No one would be allowed to cause him pain, least of all Nie Mingjue himself.

And so he’d come here, to this forbidden place, and braced himself for the agony of the journey.

He’d been travelling for days already, maybe weeks – it was getting hard to tell. Fierce corpses, conscious or not, did not feel pain in the same way, but pain was still quite possible; he’d been burned and stabbed and bludgeoned, he’d been attacked by purification in the same way he’d once attacked corpses himself, and it all hurt exactly as much as he’d thought it would.

He wished he could have brought Baxia with him. She wouldn’t have put up with this nonsense.

But this was something he had to do alone.

He had nothing with him but the clothing on his back, the familiar clothing of the Nie Sect Leader he no longer was, and even that was being slowly ripped apart and peeled away from him as he climbed.

His fingers were in agony as he gripped rocks that turned cutting edges against him, his teeth were gritted as the water sprayed down at him in full force, and he did not let anything deter him.

He would get to the top of this fucking waterfall.

He’d say that he’d do it or die trying, but he was already dead. Failure was therefore not an option.

“There is a type of immortality in reincarnation, you know,” the woman’s voice said in his ear again. “You are already existing beyond the fated span of your life – why not enjoy the time you have left, and then move on to try again? Why force yourself to stay in a body that cannot eat, cannot drink, cannot live?”

“I was never much of a glutton,” Nie Mingjue said back, ignoring the way the water tried to drown him. He was a fierce corpse, he didn’t actually need oxygen; the way his lungs strained and his mind panicked was only the memory of a prior life. “Or much of a lecher. A half-life is fine, if I can accompany my brother to live a full one.”

“You’re very stubborn,” she sighed.

Nie Mingjue bared his teeth. “My sworn brother once said that he tried everything he could to tempt me – women, liquor, riches, art, calligraphy, antiques, fine tea – and failed. You’re going to need to try harder.”

“What if your next reincarnation could be guaranteed as auspicious? Your conduct was upright and righteous throughout your life, and even after death – you would be born into a family that loved you, with divine talent for cultivation and all the resources you could think of. You would have the opportunity to break your way into the heavens.”

“And if I accepted that, I would be worthy only of being reborn as a pig fit for slaughter,” Nie Mingjue said. “I already had that life: my family loved me, my talent was not bad, my resources extensive. And in the end the only part of it that ever mattered was my father, who I avenged, and my brother, who avenged me. I am already decided – go away, Baoshan Sanren. Don’t you have your own chicks to worry about?”

She was silent for a moment, as if surprised that he’d identified her.

He’d suspected it from the first moment he saw her, the beautiful and arrogant Zhuque – the vermillion bird of heaven, come down to watch him as he climbed this mountain, this waterfall. He didn’t know why, but it suddenly all seemed to make sense: who else would rescue children only to release them? What else could explain the inconsistencies of time, where little Xiao Xingchen could remember Wei Wuxian’s mother as his shijie even though she’d died long before the time he should have been born?

Why else would all of her children be tagged with such terrible luck?

“What if this hurts your brother?” she suddenly said, abrupt in her question. “You know the doom that has befallen each of my disciples once they leave my nest – what if this is more of the same? What if having you by his side is enough to doom him?”

“Have to hope for the best,” Nie Mingjue said briefly. He’d considered it, of course, and the idea worried him – he was going against the heavens here, and it wouldn’t be too much to think that they’d seek revenge beyond merely inconveniencing him with some lightning. It was a risk. But he’d never stopped from taking the course of action he thought was right simply because of risk. “If fate turns against us, we can cross that bridge when we reach it – why worry now?”

He’d always been called a straightforward man, and it had irritated Jin Guangyao beyond words whenever it turned out to be true – it seemed Baoshan Sanren had some of the same instincts, because she huffed and tossed her head, the beautiful fiery plumage streaming in the wind.

“Stop making me like you,” she said, her voice querulous. “I’m supposed to be stopping you.”

Nie Mingjue grinned. “It’s not going to happen. No matter what you offer or threaten – as I told you, I decided long ago that I would do this. Aren’t I a cultivator? To cultivate is to fight against the heavens, to seek your own fate. This is the fate I’ve chosen. I will not be dissuaded.”

His hand, which had been steadily reaching above him, finding a rock, and pulling his body up after, reached up again and abruptly hit nothing but air.

Nie Mingjue squinted up but could not see anything; the haze from the waterfall was too much. He reached again, stubborn, and this time he found that there wasn’t any rock above him – but there was further out.

He’d reached the top. There was no more to climb.

The only way forward was to leap.

“Good luck,” Baoshan Sanren said. “I hope you make it.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t hesitate.

(Far away in Gusu, Wei Wuxian looked up at the sky and said, “Oh shit now there’s two of them,” but when Lan Wangji asked what he’d meant, he realized that he had no idea.)

#mdzs #nie mingjue #baoshan sanren #my fic #my fics #dragon nhs #hamelin-born

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anxiouslyfred · 3 years

Text

Unofficial Bar Security

Summary: Remus likes fighting and has gotten known at his local bar as someone who will fight anyone with bigoted views. He just hopes that his marks don’t mean he’ll meet his soulmate by fighting them

warnings: sexism mentions, homophobia and racism mentions, bar fight

/\/\

Remus enjoyed fighting. He always had and it had only gotten worse when he realised how many bigoted self-absorbed bastards there were around, all to ready to lecture, insult or attack him because of the pride badges he wore, or just because he didn't care about wearing popular fashions.

When the bar he liked going to most often started doing specials and hosting events for Pride month or to support the Black Lives Matter movement, Remus was already on watch for anybody causing trouble. In fact he basically became a voluntary security guard given the owners and staff had assured him that any fights started because someone had been racist or queerphobic towards any labels wouldn't get him thrown out. That was basically permission given to Remus to insert himself into any situation he liked and get into additional fights.

The main reason he even thought curiously about getting into fights was that he was fairly sure however he met his soulmate was going to include him grabbing them. He could only hope that was a grab to get them out of a fight rather than starting one with them. It seemed likely given the lighter skin covered his hands and a line down his chest which no matter how many play fights Remus had instigated with his brother couldn't easily be used to attack, only capture and possibly defend as a body shield.

He had visions of meeting them in the bar, possibly someone getting harassed by the one racist group that refused to get the point that their views weren't welcome, and just grabbing them out of the way. There could even still be a fight once he got them out of the way, to show how skilled he is at them.

Remus dismissed the daydreams from his mind, taking another sip of his beer and glancing around the bar. The group of pests was back again, but they seemed to be being quiet for the time being. There were a few groups of teenagers from out of town, probably on a road trip together or something for the summer.

There was a fabulous fellow just waiting at the bar, and looking more than a little uncomfortable. They seemed a bit out of place, hunching into their hoodie and glancing around at the various groups cheering and laughing together. Remus had to watch for a while, just taking in the lithe form and wary posture. Either this was someone who had been forced to come with their friends or had come out for some space from a bad situation.

Still Remus wouldn't mind on getting his hands on that bum, or offering to keep their company for a while. There was only so much control one could have while waiting for their soulmate and Remus would happily let it go for an adorable... fighter? While he'd been watching the person they must have heard something from the abuse gang and was already glaring and stepping over to them.

Just was the frantic gestures Remus had to move closer, ready to act whether to help or just get the person out of there was yet to be determined. The group had been in the bar longer than normal without causing trouble and tended to react worse the more alcohol they'd had, which could be very bad for the person Remus had been watching.

Whatever was being said was getting hissed too quietly for him to make out the words, but the reaction was obvious. The men that had been laughing together and judging everyone else had started off falling silent but now were all standing, scowling and trying to get out from the table in order to surround the person. Remus barely thought the instant one raised an empty bottle as though about to break it.

The noise of yelling and glass breaking broke out just as he grabbed the person, one hand aiming for their shoulder but hooking around the neck, the other for their bum as Remus pushed into them, the momentum taking them into a booth next to where the guys were getting out from.

“Security! These guys are attempting to attack us with a broken glass! They've been making racist and homophobic comments all evening too!” He turned to yell after checking the person hadn't hit anything in the action. There were battles Remus would love to fight, but the chances of someone completely uninvolved getting hurt with broken glass being used as a weapon was far too high. Plus hopefully if security got involved then the group would be banned forever this time.

From the faces now directed towards him it was obvious they all realised it too. He might be the volunteer unofficial security against bigoted people but as soon as he was calling for the people paid for the role, they weren't likely to be coming back again. Still Remus paid attention to what was happening, using his body to block the fascinating person behind him in case any of them tried anything now. The cameras in the place would show what had happened and his own reports that had been recorded after the previous few fights they'd had should be more than enough to identify them if they tried coming back.

Eventually though he turned back to face the person, hoodie now discarded to the side of them as they were trying to look at the side he'd tackled them from. “Are you okay? Sorry for tacking you, but those guys are some nasty work I've been trying to teach to be better with my fists for weeks. Didn't know what else to do when one raised the bottle.”

They startled, turning to him with a stunned expression, before raising their hand up to their neck. “Yeah, yeah, I'm good, I guess. Um, are your hands...?” They broke off, looking at Remus as though they were torn between finishing the question and ignoring it. Their actions had already made Remus realise that their neck now had a neon green hand print on it though.

Raising his hands up for them both to look he burst out laughing to see they'd turned violet, but just to be sure he was dragging his top and jacket off to look at the pale line on his chest, now a matching purple to his hands. “Oh my god! I actually did that trying to protect you! I mean I hoped, I hoped so much, cause body connections like that are kinda weird to get but with all the fights I've been in I was still worried.”

“I mean that's a better worry than I had. Everyone said one of these marks had to be a birthmark and if they could only see the neck that my soulmate is going to try to suffocate me the first time we touch.” Their voice was shaky, and they were watching Remus as though expecting some kind of bad reaction to his soulmate being them.

“Never. Besides that's like the least interesting way for someone to die. I've got books and books about how different deaths are interesting and suffocation just isn't that good.” he had calmed a little at the mention, reaching out to stroke over their neck for a moment before realising he still knew nothing about this person, and they knew nothing about him in return. “I'm Remus, by the way, and you are fascinatingly dark. He/him pronouns if you will. Can I know my soulmates name and pronouns, or even just whatever battle led you to telling those jerks off?”

“Virgil and he/him too, currently. I'll let you know when they change. And those guys were making the girls close to where I was stood with the catcalling and jeers they made. I might not know them but nobody should have to hear the vile things they were talking about when they just wanted to have a night out.” Virgil nodded, tugging a pronoun wristband out from the sleeve of his top so it could be seen.

Remus snickered a little. “I have done the same before. Got standing permission to get into fights if people say hate filled things or encourage discrimination while I'm here.”

“What – what do you want to do now? About the soulmates thing, I mean?” Virgil asked, gaze following Remus's hands as he bounced them a bit.

That felt like a loaded question, and just from the way Virgil was shifting in his seat Remus could see he was anxious about the answer. There was a lot of pressure from society over how soulmates should act together, but it all felt pretty meaningless to him. “Get to know you preferably. I'm not jumping into settling down with a complete stranger no matter how cute your butt is, but we could practise fighting together? Message online or something?”

“Thank god. I did not want to jump into soulmates means we have to be joint at the hip thing either. It sounds socially exhausting just thinking about it.” Virgil sighed, giving the distinct impression that if Remus had wanted it he would have gone along with it all for his sake. “It does sound like fun to practise wrestling with you. Where do you train?”

Remus had always enjoyed fighting. He was just ecstatic to know that he didn't meet his soulmate by fighting them.

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #bar fights #tw sexism #tw homophobia mention #tw racism mention

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advernia · 4 years

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What do you think would happen if Alice had fallen into Cradle with her child? I’m particularly curious about Sirius and Luka OwO

in general i’d say the presence of the mother-child combination in cradle would (rather, should) raise the tension higher because two people from the land of reason = two people who can repel magic, yeehaw. i think that gives the magic tower more incentive to be aggressive point blank bc 1) two magic repellers = greater chances of world domination plans being thwarted, 2) on the other hand they will make excellent test subjects, 3) them being blood-related + different ages (and possibly genders) opens more avenues for varied forms of experimentation, and 4) more ways to enter the land of reason, hella rad.

there’s probably more but morbid thoughts aside... here’s some general scenarios!

sirius:

he grew up having lotsa siblings + if you count the black army as the whole he’s raised a lot of brats lmao, so alice having a kid doesn’t faze him the slightest!

in the prologue where ray ends up catching alice, sirius ends up catching her kid instead. thinks the kid’s five years old or something. sirius is about to ask the child some basic questions, but the kid suddenly points to a running blanc so whoops. before the strange pair go rushing after blanc, kid says a thank you, mister! and that earns immediate brownie points because the! kid! called! me! mister! and sirius proceeds to make that veeeery clear to ray lol. maybe to fenrir and seth too, later.

so after all the prologue drama, alice & the kid formally introduce themselves as mother & child to the black army. there’s a few murmurs of reallys and awwws because tbh alice looked rather young to be a mother but oh well. it doesn’t change sirius’ welcoming and accommodating approach, though he keeps more tabs on the child because honestly...

a young child in the barracks... where there’s a stocked armory + shiny magic crystals... ridiculous brats - ehem, grown men prone to showing off + creating trouble... yeah. though it’s really not a hassle on sirius’ part to somewhat act like a babysitter, he gets to suffer being teased about nonsense like paternal instincts coming to life in full force lol!

though seriously speaking, he’s very careful not to ask / bring up the biggest subject of them all: alice’s husband (if there’s even one to speak of, ooh). on the kiddo’s side of course, it’s already hard enough that someone so young suddenly ends up in a strange place + gets their mother and themselves threatened by a whole goddamn army (sirius, to lancelot: i stg what are u doing???) + has to live out a whole month in a new environment all of a sudden, so he believes the least that he & the black army can do is keep the child comfortable enough so that the feeling of fear would be lessened, get a sense of comfort going on. sirius definitely can’t blame the kiddo if they start crying out for their father/home though - though he knows it’s not his fault + can’t do anything much, he’ll feel bad about the fact that he can’t do much for the child’s homesickness.

he’s not going to broach the topic on alice either - if alice wanted to talk, then he’d do his best to listen. if she didn’t then he wouldn’t dare ask, it’s a very personal topic after all. who was he to pry into her personal matters when she + her child would be leaving in a month???

so picture this: he did say he’ll help watching over the kid, but there’s not much to do bc her child is good enough. what a little angel, polite and curious and quiet. maybe a little too quiet, withdrawn??? hmmm. either way, the child didn’t seem too (pro)active. or was playful the term sirius was looking for?

like sure, there’s the loud laughs for stupid antics, answers when talked to, smiles and walks around the barracks on their own but... more often than not, the child keeps close to alice or is just around her general line of sight. separation anxiety, maybe??? that’s natural, so okay. or maybe it’s alice who’s always hovering around her child??? either way, there’s nothing odd about that, but upon longer observation...

the kid is just... really responsible / really loves their mom??? alice watering the plants??? quickly looks for another watering can / gets a bucket of water to refill the can with. general cleaning or laundry??? puts a hold on whatever they were doing, rolls up sleeves, gets ready to do some work. prep work for dinner??? peeling’s a bit wonky, but they’re doing their best while trying not to cut themselves...

this strikes off as a bit funny to sirius, because wow, they really are related. where alice is quick to offer her help on all sorts of tasks in the barracks, her child is just a step behind her, little hands willing to do some work. on some tasks, alice does tell her kid that she’ll be alright doing it on her own, but her kid insists doing it alongside her anyway. and that there, that’s a very alice thing to do, too. sirius - heck, maybe the black army would know that by now as well, lol, considering how alice flutters around the barracks looking for something to do if she’s not having some alone time + private time with her child.

though, as much as the help was appreciated... it doesn’t sit well with sirius that the mother & child are spending most of their hours working rather than enjoying themselves in cradle. he thinks it’s a shame, especially for the kid. back when sirius was younger, he would...... then he’d go to....... and then sometimes he’d.............

.... right. if the guests wouldn’t relax themselves, then sirius would take it upon himself to show them a good time. it doesn’t have to be through big events, it doesn’t have to be everyday, it doesn’t need to be through fancy or expensive gifts either...... if only just to see both of them smile more often, then it’s definitely worth the time thinking about.

more bonus points if he’d get to see alice’s kid start acting like... well, a child! while there’s nothing wrong with being responsible or wanting to help, a kid should definitely experience all sorts of things, explore what they can, and most of all, enjoy themselves.

that’s what it means to be young, and alice should do the same as well... being in cradle is their adventure, after all! they’re not completely unrelated to the war but..... if anything else, sirius wants to fulfill the black army’s promise of precting them until the full moon comes around, and when that day comes.... he hopes the two have made a ton of good memories of their stay in cradle.

......... funny that this guy’s thinking about how make the two relax when he can’t even stop and do that for himself lmaooooo

luka:

lol he starts off the same as he’s always been in most routes: shying away + nothing much to say to the parent/child combo now suddenly under their wing.

though, he does keep watch of their eating habits on the first days of their stay: alice eats anything + everything so that’s a relief, she’s adjusting. now if only he can say the same for her child....

imagine alice’s kid still being uncomfortable & cranky a few days in cradle + black army company, refuses to eat much even though his mom’s urging him to. breaks into a tantrum one day, saying that i wanna eat mama’s cooking instead! or something similar for everyone in the dining room to hear before storming out. ooh. there’s a brief silence - most stares land on luka, who isn’t really offended.

..... well, okay, so maybe it did sting a little bit. alice apologizes to luka before going away to calm her kid down. fenrir + ray tell him not to worry about it, seth + sirius muse about the kid feeling all homesick / sensitive. cue other soldiers saying something about puberty (whut lol). or y’know, kids being kids.

luka tries thinking about the kid’s situation for a bit. away from home, living in a whole new environment, surrounded by a whole lot of other people with attitudes and faces way different from those around at home... huh. that kinda sounds like himself in a way, except that the away from home bit on luka’s part was a voluntary choice.

having realized that, luka has a better guess of what the kid might be feeling. overwhelmed, definitely. from a very hostile welcome with handcuffs + the red army carrying the threat of death, suddenly being surrounded by the kindness of the black army is a total 360. must feel unreal, suspicious, even. the sight of real weapons around, the existence of magic and all that, unknowingly having a power so strong the whole country fears it. sounds like too much too process for a child.

..... alright, but looking at alice’s kid being unfriendly + clingy to alice 24/7 + being such a crybaby also reminds luka of... uh, himself, when he was younger. not to his own mother, but to... well, jonah, ugh. it’s not an easy pill to swallow (it takes grudging acceptance), but at least luka gets to know why he always felt some pang of irritation looking at the child.

so the next time the kid starts crying over something/causes trouble for alice, luka surprises everyone in the room by taking the initiative to scold the kid for acting so selfish. tough call, by the way - the child is wow, stubborn as hell + likes to keep the waterworks going while screaming; luka’s got a pretty good idea of what he wants to say but is having trouble getting it across properly and in a less menancing manner, so in short its a mess. witnesses ray blackwell + fenrir godspeed find the whole scene sorta funny though, much support lol.

alice wants to cut in, but sirius + seth tell her to leave it to luka, who seems to be winning since her kid’s running out of energy from crying & shouting at the same time. luka seems to be calming down too, because his tone + volume + facial expression is getting less stern. this seemed like a good time to mosey out of the scene so sirius ushers the audience to go away lmao, even the worried mother (who, decides to eavesdrop instead. no one has the heart to pull her away... so they hover around the doorway with her too.)

not arguing with luka anymore, the upset kid starts to babble of nightmares about the scary men in red with their sharp swords, not wanting to sleep because maybe when they close their eyes mama might suddenly be gone and they’re all alone, the scary feeling of losing mama to strangers, and the list goes on and on. its a collection of fears + worries of a child, and luka’s patient enough to listen. in fact, he smiles wryly when there’s mentions of monsters under the bed: it’s embarrasing, but luka used to cry over that too.

... seeing the kid bawl their eyes out like this, luka really is reminded of his younger self. the clinginess, sudden outbursts, the fear of maybe one day, they’ll be left behind and will be all alone. luka might be speculating the kid’s feelings, but more than anyone else, luka would be the closest one who could relate to what the kid was going through because.......... he acted that way towards jonah, back when they were younger.

he wonders if they’ve mentioned any of this to alice, even if just the smallest of their fears. he wonders how long they’ve been bothered over those fears, if they’ve been sleeping well at night. with all those questions in his mind, luka’s not so sure what to say; how to comfort the child.

he still tries though, even if his words come out a bit clumsy, even if the kid’s still sniffling all the way through the process. it’s a quiet moment, one that lasts till the child has cried themselves to sleep. they just stay that way for awhile, the kid resting their head on luka’s arm, until luka decides to carry the child back to their room........ alice must be worried.

..... she is, actually. when she and luka talk, she keeps quiet of her eavesdropping. luka doesn’t tell her everything either, because he believed that some of the things they talked about are better said by the kid themselves rather than him relaying the message to alice.

there’s nothing much to say after that, so luka goes on his way. alice says a very sincere thank you before he goes. she... has a lot of other things to say other than just that, but.... maybe another time. maybe when she’s plucked up the courage.

anyway, after all that alice’s kid seems to have gotten off their... spoiled phase, lol. still a little clingy to alice, but is getting less prickly + talking to others now. most notable development though, is if the child isn’t around their mother......... they could be seen hanging around luka.

.......... cue comments on how heartwarming it is to see a young child tottering around luka like a little duckling. luka does not appreciate the teasing. especially when it comes from seth + fenrir because why are their grins so big??????? but he doesn’t say anything against the kid following him around lol.

#askdfghjl #ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #sirius oswald #luka clemence #... honestly if alice had her child with her the first thing i thought was....#family apPROVAL FIRST IKEMANS no route progression for u if there's none lol #lmaooo earn them kid brownie points before getting to the final boss bruhs

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cuddlepilefics · 4 years

Text

22. Christmas Fair

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Bang Chan

Caregiver: 2racha

Chan’s POV.:

Officially we were on break over the seasonal holidays but me being the workaholic I am, I wasn’t able to sit still and do nothing. That’s why I went to the studio to work on some new tracks. It was much more fun to compose stuff if you could just play around a bit with out the pressure of deadlines. I spent most of the day alone at the studio, losing track of time as I tried out new beats. My members were probably resting at the dorm or roaming the city. There was a small Christmas fair in the town center and my phone kept blowing up with begging texts, asking if we could all go there together. After replying that I’d love to go there tomorrow because I’m busy at the moment, I muted my phone to avoid distractions as far as possible. When I finally shut my computer off and bundled into my coat, preparing for the walk home, it was already very late in the evening. I skipped lunch and haven’t had dinner yet, so I decided to pick up a bite to eat on the walk home. I’d be passing by the fair anyways, why not get something from one of the food-stands there.

Changbin’s POV.:

Chan had been at the studio all day. It was already getting late and one by one my members all went to bed. The only ones remaining in the living room were Jisung and me. We felt a little guilty because our leader was still working and we didn’t. After all, it’s 3racha that produces the songs for stray kids and 3racha also includes Jisung and me, not just Chan. That’s why we grabbed notepads and worked on some lyrics, hoping they’d be of use when Chan would present us the new tracks he was working on. We had both tried to call Chan numerous times over the past thirty minutes to convince him to come home but he never picked up. Then suddenly my phone rang. “Chan?” – “Yeah, hey. I saw you tried to call me?” – “Yeah, we wanted to ask you to come home. It’s getting late.” – “Ah, I’m already on the way back. Y’all already had dinner, right?” – “Hyung, it’s almost midnight. Everyone accept for 3racha is asleep already.” – “I’ll eat a bit on the way, so it might take a bit longer. Should be home in about twenty minutes.” – “Alright, take care, hyung.” – “See you.” And with that the call ended.

Chan’s POV.:

I didn’t really enter the fair because I mostly just wanted to get home quick, but I found a food stand on the outer edge of the fair which sold fish cakes. I bought a fish cake and also picked up a small bag of roasted chestnuts to snack on while walking. I stuffed the bad of chestnuts into my pocket, feeling the heat through the fabric, so I’d have my hands free to eat the fish cake. The meal was perfect to warm me up on a chilly night like this. I finished the fish cake and munched two of the chestnuts before arriving home and unlocking the door. After kicking off my shoes, I made my way to the living room, where I sound Changbin and Jisung between scattered sheets of paper. “Hyung, you’re finally back”, the youngest 3racha member whisper-shouted. “You are aware that we are on Christmas break, right hyung?”, the older rapper scolded. “Aish, yes I am”, I said directed at both of them, “But hey, I brought you some roasted chestnuts to make up for not being home.” Changbin just rolled his eyes at my poor attempt to distract them, while Jisung happily accepted the bag from me, immediately nibbling on one nut. I have to admit, he had never looked like a squirrel more than he did right now. We both chuckled at our youngest before saying good night and getting ready for bed.

The evening seemed to fade out peacefully but the truth was that my belated dinner turned out to have been a mistake. Or at least my food choice had been a mistake. The fish cake wasn’t agreeing with me so well. I couldn’t remember whether there were hints of it being undercooked or if it tasted weird, I just knew that my stomach wasn’t too happy about it. It had started to hurt a few minutes after I arrived home. Slowly the pain increased into cramps, that felt like somebody was stabbing the upper area of my abdomen with a dull knife. I knew that I should just go to bed, everybody else was asleep already. Maybe I’d be able to just sleep it off.

My attempts to sleep the pain off, ended about ten minutes later when the pain had turned into nausea. I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could because Changbin had just gone to bed and was probably not that deeply asleep yet. Slightly bent over with one arm around my middle and the other braced against the wall, I stumbled to the bathroom, flicking on the light. I did make it to the toilet but as soon as I had settled on my knees in front of it, the urge to throw up was gone. I pushed myself back up, groaning in frustration that I had gotten up unnecessarily but as soon as I was on my feet again, I immediately felt sick again. The cycle repeated itself a few times, till I decided to just stay in the bathroom whether I had to throw up in the end or not.

Changbin’s POV.:

I hadn’t been asleep yet, when Chan left the room again. He was probably just going to the restroom, so I closed my eyes again, trying to go to sleep. When he still wasn’t back twenty minutes later, I suspected, he had snuck to the living room to continue working there on his laptop. It’s not like that had never happened before, so to me that was the most likely explanation for his disappearance. I was getting angry at our leader’s behavior, we were on Christmas break for duck’s sake, why couldn’t he just make use of the time he’s given to rest? Controlling my anger to not wake the younger Aussie in our room, I quietly pushed off the blanket and slipped out of the room, determined to drag our leader’s workaholic ass back to bed. When I got to the living room however, everything was dark. Now I really had no idea where my hyung could have gone. On the way back to my room, there was light shining through underneath the bathroom door.

I gently tapped my finger against the door, opening it when I heard a low “Yeah?”. Chan was resting with his back against the bathtub, looking up at me with dark circles under his eyes. “Hey, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you in bed?”, I frowned, noticing the yellowish pallor of his cheeks. “Kinda stuck here”, he mumbled, closing his eyes. “How so?”, I asked, taking a seat opposite of him. “Dinner’s not sitting well. I’m ok, it just hurts right now but everytime I try to get up, I feel like I’m going to be sick”, he breathed. “Was it the chestnuts?”, my eyes widened, remembering that Jisung had finished almost the entire bag. The leader shook his head: “Fish cake” Ok, at least that made only one sick member. “What are you going to do now? Just stay here for the night?”, I questioned. “Probably”, he shrugged, muffling a burp into his fist. “I actually hope I’d just throw up. I’ll probably be fine once it’s out”, he admitted uncharacteristically shy. I sighed and got up.

Chan’s POV.:

Changbin just left and I was glad he’d get the sleep he needed, even though I really didn’t want to be alone right now, it was still better that making one of my dongsaengs stay awake with me. I could handle myself, always have. Could I really? Another twist of my stomach made me doubt it as my mouth started to water. I shifted back onto my knees in anticipation, when the door cracked open once again. I didn’t turn to look at whoever came in, not even when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, I got you a bottle of water. Maybe if you chug that down really fast it will make everything come out”, Changbin whispered, setting the bottle down next to me. “Thought you had gone back to bed”, I mumbled sheepishly, wrapping my arms tighter around my middle and gritting my teeth as I was hit with another cramp. “And left you here? Never!”, my dongsaeng gasped. I felt really fuzzy and warm at this comment but was soon brought back to reality when a wave of nausea washed over me. I decided to go along with Changbin’s idea and uncapped the water bottle. Raising it to my lips, the very first sip made it clear that I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. I struggled to swallow and it seemed like my mind was preventing me from putting anything else into my already upset stomach. Choking, I spat out the water that was still in my mouth, handing the bottle back. Luckily, the rapper got the hint and quickly took it from my hand. The coughing triggered a gag but that was it. “S-Sorry, c-can’t”, I forced out between clenched teeth, still hovering over the toilet. Changbin sighed and rubbed my back in soothing circles as I breathed heavily, on the edge of throwing up but not quite there. I could taste the fish cake, I could even feel it at the back of my throat but it just wouldn’t come out. Frustrated teeth make their way down my face and I didn’t even bother wiping the away, knowing there’d just be new ones.

Jisung’s POV.:

I always needed some time to fall asleep. I heard shuffling in the hall and people talking in hushed voices but decided to stay in bed, if they don’t value their sleep, it’s their problem, not mine. Until I heard quiet sobs, that is. Startling at the different noise, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, careful to not wake the maknae I was sharing a room with. Padding down the hallway, I followed the noise, ending up in front of the bathroom door. I tapped the door twice as a warning, before carefully pushing it open and stepping in. Sitting on the bathroom floor, I found my other two 3racha members. “What’s going on?”, I yawned, squatting down next to them. With Chan seemingly unable to speak, Changbin answered for him, his hand never leaving the leader’s back: “Channie-hyung had a fish cake for dinner, which isn’t quite agreeing with him. He really needs to be sick but can’t. I tried to make him chug water but he can’t even get that down and I have no other idea what else to do.” Oh, that explains why our hyung is crying so hard. He must feel really bad if he’d voluntarily throw up. I chewed on my lips, thinking hard. The water would have been the first thing to come to my mind too but then I had a different idea. Grabbing a hair clip from the sink, I motioned for Changbin to switch positions with me. He nodded, watching me closely, trying to figure out what I wanted to do.

I knelt down behind my oldest hyung, clipping his bangs back in one swift motion. “Hyung, I’m going to hug you really tight, ok?”, I muttered into the leader’s ear. He nodded, removing his arms from his stomach, gripping onto the edge of the bathtub and toilet seat instead. I gently snaked my own arms around his middle, feeling his tense abs under my hands. “Just slap my arm if it hurts too bad or you want me to stop”, I warned before slowly tightening my arms around him, increasing the pressure I was putting on his stomach. At first nothing was happening, Chan only flinched a bit in pain, till he suddenly pithed forward in my hold, retching harshly. I could see his knuckles turning white, as he braced himself before retching again. This time, there was actually something coming up, although it wasn’t much. I closed my eyes, afraid the feeling of Chan’s stomach, contracting underneath my arms in combination with sight and smell, would send my own stomach over the edge. Instead, I just kept holding my hyung in a back hug, feeling every twitch of his muscles and following his movements when he jerked over the toilet bowl, trying to ignore the sounds of liquid hitting liquid. Every cough, gag or burp was amplified by the porcelain bowl, forcing me to grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, while trying to keep my grip steady. ‘Alright Sungie, just think of puppies, cute little puppies’ I told myself.

Changbin must have seen my face change color because he tapped my back before gently pushing me to the side and taking my place. I don’t usually get sympathy sick but that just now was really testing my limits. With a jerking motion of his head, he signaled for me to leave. His eyes told me that he got it handled and that I should flee as long as I still could. I nodded quickly, slipping out of the bathroom and closing the door between us. Shakily, I went to my room to get my phone and headphones to drown out the noise coming from the bathroom. Turning up the music, I went to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. While I waited for the water to boil, I fetched two peppermint teabags, dropping them into a teapot. I decided to make more than just one cup of tea because my own stomach was still doing flips too. I was still waiting, when my stomach tightened, forcing me to quickly lean over the sink. Luckily the weak gag brought nothing up but that was a close-call. I rested my forehead against the counter, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. I was able to get my bearings and straightened back up to pour the water over the teabags, taking the teapot along with three cups to the coffee table.

Soon, the pair emerged from the bathroom, Changbin supporting a sweaty Chan to the couch, before taking off to fetch a bucket, just in case. “Feeling better?”, I asked, anxiously playing with my fingers. “Yeah, thanks mate”, the oldest replied, voice hoarse from getting sick. He curled up on the couch, drawing his legs up a bit as he shivered. He must be pretty cold in his sweat-through shirt, so I pulled the woolen blanket we always keep in the living room from the back of the couch, covering his trembling form completely. Only barely catching the quiet “Thanks”, a small smile spread on my lips as Changbin returned, placing a bucket next to the couch. He guided me to the other couch where we could cuddle while keeping a close eye on our leader. Seems like we’re in for another 3racha all-nighter….

#sick #sickfic #fanfic #whump #christmas #emeto #fluff #comfort #3racha #skz #stray kids #bang chan #seo changbin #han jisung

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ineffable-endearments · 4 years

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M’kay SO switching it up from The Rules to The Relationship -

The thing about the lockdown video that’s super super SUPER fascinating (aside from all of the other things about it that are super super super fascinating) is that it’s Crowley and Aziraphale trying to negotiate what “our side” actually looks like in practice. It’s that moment in fanfic when they’re like, okay, so I know he likes me, but does he LIKE me like me? And what exactly is it that I want from him?

Because “our side” could be a wide gamut of possibilities. I mean, I think it was always pretty obvious this wouldn’t be the case, but in theory, “our side” could look like two beings who meet up on rare occasion to catch up and then part ways without really seeking each other out just for company. It could look like voluntary coworkers. It could look like two beings who enjoy meeting up on a regular basis just to spend time together because they like each other.

Or. It could look like two beings who are so close that they’re a unit. So close that they don’t have to socially distance because they live together. A closeness that is for all practical purposes a domestic partnership, whether that partnership is romantic, sexual, or queerplatonic in nature. It might be delightful, but it brings risks, too. What if you don’t get along as well cohabiting as you did apart?

When you’re already happy with your existence, you get to see your best friend pretty much on demand and pursue whatever you want while they’re out pursuing whatever they want and you’re both retired and immortal and there’s nobody to tell either of you what to do, you might not want to take the risk of upsetting that status quo. Oh, sure, you might have little not-completely-fulfilled desires somewhere in there, but what you’ve already got is so good that the idea of taking the first step toward changing it might seem rash or destructive. Someone in this situation might hold themselves back a little, but it may not really feel like pining so much as simply a deep affection that is kept under control.

Lockdown interrupts that comfortable status quo by saying nope, this little routine can’t last forever. In the lockdown video, Aziraphale has pretty obviously discovered that he’s extremely happy to stay in and be introverted all day, and there is only one thing missing. That one thing is Crowley, of course. Meanwhile, Crowley realizes the extent to which he fucking hates being locked in, but I’d say he discovers two important things: one, he’s willing to endure this near-torture for the good of humans even when the world isn’t literally about to end, and two, it would be far more tolerable if Aziraphale were here.

Aziraphale sounds nervous on his phone call to Crowley. He keeps saying things like “you’re a demon and you should be out” but this clearly is a thin excuse. He wants Crowley to be heading out voluntarily so he can invite him over. Crowley picks up what he’s putting down, but when Crowley blatantly offers to break his lockdown to come stay over with Aziraphale, Aziraphale obviously gets really nervous again and says they shouldn’t.

I’m not certain how I read Aziraphale’s original “invitation” (because let’s be real, that’s what it was). Was he thinking Crowley was going to “hunker down” with him, or was he thinking Crowley would be out and about anyway so they’d have a nice visit and Crowley would eventually go home/leave to go cause havoc somewhere else?

I mean, on one hand, when Crowley suggested “hunkering down” with a “case” of something drinkable, Aziraphale panicked, which could imply that a long-term arrangement wasn’t his intention. On the other hand, it would be double-breaking-the rules for Crowley to leave his own apartment and THEN to leave Aziraphale’s shop. Logic would dictate - and Aziraphale would probably know this; he’s certainly had time to contemplate it, and if the props are any indication, he has been contemplating Crowley a lot - that if you’re going to thwart your wily, easily-bored counterpart’s attempts to be socially irresponsible, you’re going to have to keep him occupied the whole time. You’d be doing the most good by keeping him with you for months on end. Yup, I think Aziraphale was angling for a lockdown slumber party, too, but was already anxious about it, and then the final act of having to openly ask Crowley to break the rules was more of a line than he was comfortable crossing.

Aziraphale ALWAYS DOES THIS when things are about to change, even for the better. It’s part of who he is, and part of why he’s bonded so well with Crowley - because he WANTS the good changes, but they’re terrifying, and Crowley gives him the ability to do it. But he always says “no” the first time, and hangs nervously around the periphery until he’s invited again.

When Crowley suggested the Arrangement? The answer was no, and it became yes. When Crowley asked for holy water? The answer was no, and it became yes. When Crowley asked to save the world together? The answer was no, and it became yes.

This is progress. This is Aziraphale making the call himself and obviously nudging towards a significant change that he wants, instead of trying to bury his desire completely. The fact that he can’t quite seal the deal at the end is a part of the process.

#good omens lockdown #good omens lockdown spoilers

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inessencedevided · 4 years

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The Untamed, episode 43 - watching notes

The sun is setting on this show for me and I'm not ready to say goodbye yet 😔

(As if I will! Ha. Imma blog about nothing else the next ... probably years)

Last time on Sophie watches the untamed: We're still in the restricted section. The twin love-struck idiots of lan and wwx found the Collection of turmoil and suspect Jin Guangyao of intentionally bringing about Nie Mingjue's qui deviation.

As much as I love the "hihi. Wwx is wearing his boyfriend's underrobe" aspect of this, I also like the visual incorporation of lwj's colour scheme into wwx's clothes. (Not just through the undertone, his black tone also has slight grey seam.) It's as if now that they are finally fully committed to each other, wwx is displaying it for all the world to see

Jin Guangyao tore out a page to hide the evidence. That's not how to do that!!!

My heart is breaking for Lan Xichen. He looks like a man standing on a train track and watching the light speed towards him in horror while he's unable to move away

Feels like exactly no one on this show is getting their happy ending

*thinks about yi city and cries forever*😭😭😭

"Wangji, Jin Guangyao,in my eyes, is a totally different person from how you and other people see him." And we all know that lwj knows exactly what that's like

PARALLELS! 😭

(Sorry, I have a thing for those)

And lwj looks so pained

Thinking about it, it's now the man lwj loves against the man lxc loves (in whatever way. I still ship them. Not sure if its "canonically" romantic though). They can't both be right, so ... one of them is going to get their heart broken

Great, first the Yunmeng brothers, now the lan brothers are breaking my heart 🥺

Lwj says he's visiting "Grand Master", that's Lan Qiren right? What happened to him anyway? Haven't seen him in ages

I love how, even though it is wwx's word against jgy's right now, lan Xichen is still genuinely kind towards wwx

The whipping scars! I hadn't even thought about those anymore 😳

I'm probably going to get my heart ripped out soon, but before that

"You are not qualified to talk to me."

Sickest. Burn. Ever.

Also, no disrespect to the actor, but that's a backpfeifengesicht if I've ever seen one

(Backpfeifengesicht: "German compound word for a 'face that should be slapped'. Ex:. When GWB smirks on TV, my German friend Uwe tells me that he sees a 'Backpfeifengesicht'." Urban dictionary)

He went to burial mount after wwx was killed??? 🥺🥺🥺

I've noticed something with lwj. When he's distressed, he won't look people in the eye or not even at their faces, just in their very general direction. To me it seems like he almost... can't? Any thoughts on that? Cause I'm intrigued but I can't think about it too much right now cause I'm already writing half an essay in this commentary again 😅

Oh fuck YOU Jiggy!!!

Holy shit ... holy shit

Lan Wangji 🥺🥺🥺

He fought against everyone?

This is how he showed his grieve???

He went to the place wei Wuxian had called home and ... what? Protected or ot so they wouldn't desecrate it? To search for him? To ... what?

Oh god, Wangji! 😭

That image... I'm speechless. It's so powerful

He's half-mad with grieve and kneeling in the ruins of his dead loves home, having fought himself to exhaustion and I'm... not okay 😭😭😭

He had to repent for THREE YEARS??

Oh no, you don't

Holy ...

Holy shit

How can my heart break and be so full at the same time 💔🥺

Lan Wangji ... my love

I'm ... so proud of him and yet so sad

Here he is at his lowest, finally standing up to the orthodoxy he knows to be wrong

This is inhumane 😳

The corporal punishment of the lan sect always was but THIS

Fuck them

Or Lan Qiren specifically

That's his nephew. How can he even look at himself?

"Eradicate evil. Establish laws. Than goodness will be everlasting."

IT'S NOT THAT FUCKING EASY!!!

WHAT EVEN IS "GOODNESS"? WHOSE VERSION OF GOODNESS? DEVINE EVIL! HOW FAR REACHING INTO THE PRIVATE SVERE SHOULD THUSE LAWS BE? DOES IT STOP AT "DON'T STEAL FROM PEOPLE OR AT "DON'T PICK YOUR NOSE AT DINNER"?

what I'm saying is: there are about 200 ethical question ls being raised by this rule alone!

And now lan Wangji had 3 tears to contemplate them

Wwx asking "why would he bother ...?" BECAUSE YOU ARE LOVED YOU GODDAMN IDIOT!!

Ohhh! We're getting their parents' story 😱

Oh this IS a Lan episode 💙

So another Lan falling quickly and never looking back?

I'm sensing a pattern here 🤨

Wait what?

Let me get this straight:

Their father loved a woman who DID NOT love him back and then killed one of his teachers

(And I hope we find out why. That sounds like there is a REALLY interesting story there)

Then he takes her to cloud recess and DESPIT HER NOT LOVING HIM, marries her, fathers two children with her (um... how voluntary was that????) locks her up (as punishment for the murder?) then locks HIMSELF up and then fucks of and leaves his children with their uncle

What kind of disaster human being was their dad????

Did he do the right thing WHEN HE MARRIED AND PROBABLY RAPED A WOMAN WHO DIDN'T LOVE HIM???

NO!!!

The fuck kinda question is that ??

If you have to marry her against her will and then lock her up, guess what? That's not love, that's wanting to possess someone

I hope that maybe the connotation is different in the og Chinese,but I'm not holding out much hope

That explains why Qiren is such a lovely character through 😒

But god, my heart breaks for lwj and lxc :'(

Little Lan Wangji!!! 🥺🥺🥺

Oh darling ...

Oh no ...

Look at him look at his crooked little headband😭😭😭

He went there every month!!!

Oh Wangji 💔💔

Stubborn, steadfast, loving Wangji!

That seals it. I KNEW why he was my favourite character

He isn't so passive all the time, because he feels too little! He feels entirely too much!!! 😭😭😭

And that explains why lwj was so worried about wwx's demonic cultivation harming him!!! 😭

Oh god, it was such an old hurt for him. I had no idea 🥺🥺🥺

All of these characters need a therapist

Lxc playing the flute to what ... deal with his emotions? Express his grieve? Remeber their mother? (And god, do I want to know more about her!!) Either way, It's making me tear up 😥

"It's so difficult to determine others personalities depending on our perspective." Welcome to the human condition, my friend 💙

And that's love

I ... wish I could show you my face right now

I'm smiling through tears right now

It's so utterly beautiful

He looks so vulnerable here! With his hair (almost) down

And given what we've just learned, that's remarkable!!!

He closed himself off became the immovable stone-faced second Jade of Lan and yet, somehow, wwx wormed his way into his heart and sure, both of them needed to overcome a lot, but here they are, vulnerable and open,not letting their parent's fate decide theirs

I'm... *sniff*

I can never get enough of lwj with his hair like this!!

It's so domestic, so soft

And look at his face! 😭

And mister "alcohol is prohibited" is now serving it 😭

Oh my god this scene is so beautiful

I'm speechless

Was the second flute Jin Guangyao as well?

At this point I'm just expecting more plot-twists

He looks so young! 🥺

Both of them are exhibiting so much growth in this episode!! Wwx realising that the fact that the cultivation world had always looked for a scapegoat and that he himself was just the most convenient target, that it's not to any personal failing of his, that's HUGE!

And I'm so proud of him :')

Lwj starting to play in the distance :')

This is so utterly peaceful

My heart is bursting 😭😭😭

The music, the scenery ...

Also, both thinking they have a clean conscious!!! 😭😭😭

Again, it's them holding the same morals that's important! I cannot tell you how happy that makes me!

(But wwx still cannot drink like a normal person :D)

The contrast to lxc sitting alone couldn't be starker 😔

Wait, why are there puppets at burial mounds again?

Are we going back to burial mounds? I'm weirdly excited 😅

Aaand Jin Guangyao just proved to them that he's lying. Poor Xichen

Yup, I'm pretty sure his heart just snapped in half

Little Apple!!! I've missed him 😁

Gosh, they're laying it on thick with the domestic husband bliss this episode and I'm here for it.

I love lwj's soft smile when he looks at bunnies so much!! 🥰

Bunnies, bunnies everywhere

It's the invasion of the bunnies

Who ever is the show runner *banging pots and pans together* IT'S GAY!! cab you all hear me? These two love each other! It's G - A - Y!!! Gay!!!

Probably

Lwj's shocked look when wwx says that he's not popular with little animals, as if to say "how dare they!" :D

Holy shit ... HOW MANY SCENES CAN THEY INCLUDE IN THIS EPISODE THAT MAKE THEM LOOK SO GODDAMN MARRIED???

Is wwx sitting side saddle?

Wwx plays wangxian :')

He finally remembers how lwj recognized him :')

Sneaky, show, very sneaky :D

Wwx about to casually steal some melons, lwj *wordlessly takes out money* ^^

MIANMIAN!!!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!

I'd given up hope that we'd see her again!!!

I'm so happy I could burst!!!

Lwj's little exasperated head-shake before he stands up from crouching behind some hay 😂

Aww, look at her family! 😍😍😍

She build her own live :')

And look at this badass woman protecting the ones she loves!!!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME WEI WUXIAN??? You don't remember her???

You better remember my wife!!!

Aaand another freeze frame. But I'm willing to forgive it because THIS EPISODE WAS SO GODDAMN BRILLIANT!

It made me realise why I was so drawn to lan Wangji as a character. Of course he is mu favourite character! He ticks every single box

Let me explain. My favourite characters almost always share the following characteristics: seems either cold and distant or ethereal and aloof, as if they are above such puny human things like feelings™️(bonus if they're actually not human and their argument is "I'm [insert species]. We can't feel [insert emotion they are definetly feeling very strongly]"). then, over the course of the story, we (along with they themselves because they were in denial) discover that it's not that they feel too little, they feel entirely too much. They're a sea of emotions so deep that the surface is calm, but don't you dare be near them when the storm is coming because all hell will break loose. (extra bonus point if that storm involves them rebelling against the oppressive society they were born into and adhered to until then because they realise their consciousness won't allow it any longer.) afterwards they realise that making themselves vulnerable once in a while is actually a good thing and they proceed to fuck the Rebel™️ who they've secretly been in love with the entire time, a feeling they only now allow themselves to act on

The last part sadly isn't always canon, but who has ever had time for that?

You know what this episode made me realise most of all? The Lan sect are just as human as the rest of them. In fact, they seem to be especially prone to acting rashly on strong emotions. (I don't remember the exact story, but didn't the founder of the Lan sect also have some kind of tragic love story?) It should be obvious, but the impression you get is that they are so detached from their wants, so rigorous and disciplined in their righteousness, that they are almost super-human. But no. Thise 3000 and some rules? They weren't born out of some enlightened mind that had the secret of live figures out, they're a crutch. Abiding by them without question rids one of responsibility to make even the tiniest moral choice for oneself. But that won't work because a) they're bounty to contradict each other at some point and b) that's not how human beings work. They're messy and unpredictable and beautifully complicated. The way Lan Qiren choses to apply them, he completely disregards that. At that point, the rules aren't there anymore to grant a harmonious society, but simply for their own sake. (Or maybe as a wall to hide behind)

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony @kyrrahbird @i-love-him-on-purpose

I think this liveblog has been the longest so far. I'm sorry for going on so many tangents, but lwj's backstory hit me really hard. I hope you guys weren't too bored 💚

(I also apologise for the mountains of typos that probably accumulated in this post. I'm too tired to check.)

#the untamed #sophie watches the untamed #the untamed liveblog #wei wuxian #wwx #lan wangji #lwj #wangxian #lan xichen #jin guangyao #luo qingyang #mianmian #tw: rape mention #i just realized that I should tag that #although i still hope i misunderstood #don't think i did though :/

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haro-whumps · 5 years

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Group Whumpees: 1. Start

Inspired by this post by @whumping-every-day and @justtorturewhump about a group of whumpees. I’ve been thinking about it on and off ever since I saw it but I finally got the giddyup to actually write for it

CW: Modern slavery, implied + referenced abuse, death of a minor character, multiple whumpees, transphobia (brief), aftermath of torture/conditioning

Galo settled himself into the hospital chair, perfectly comfortable and positioned at a thoughtful angle to the side, opposite the door so physicians could easily enter. He’d intended for this to be a quick visit, but clearly his aunt had other ideas, so he might as well take a seat.

“Here I am on my deathbed!” Auntie Bethany raved, flinging her arm about wildly, and Galo internally winced each time she got too close to jerking on the IV, “Only ONE person comes to visit me! In my whole family!”

To be fair, your whole family is made up of jackasses, Galo thought privately, raising his hands in placation. “Auntie Bethany, please, you were just admitted today. I’m sure plenty of people will show up tomorrow.”

“None of them want to visit me, even when I’m going to die!” she persisted. To be fair, Galo didn’t really want to visit her either. He just… well, she was family. And she was in the hospital. And even though his family was estranged and largely filled with self-centered, arrogant individuals that made any kind of holiday event a stomach ache and a half, he tried not to be. So here he was.

“You’re not going to die, Auntie Bethany,” Galo said patiently. “You’ve had this surgery before, remember? And you made it through just fine. I bet the same surgeon still works here, even!” Galo tried for a positive tone, cheerful.

“Ah, you’re such a good niece for your dear old aunt, sweetheart.”

“I’m your nephew, auntie, we’ve been over this,” Galo said through grit teeth, smile significantly more forced now. This is why no one likes you, Galo thought.

“That’s why I’m leaving you all of my estate, darling,” Auntie Bethanie continued like she hadn’t heard him. Galo blinked twice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Galo asked nicely, sticking his pinkie finger in his right ear as though to clear it out. “You’re…”

“I have my lawyer coming to the hospital,” Auntie Bethany said, “Go get me a pair of socks. They keep it so damn freezing in here.”

Galo rose and went to the cabinet, pulling out the soft yellow cloth and helping the socks onto her feet.

“I had planned to split my estate between everyone who showed up, but you’re the only one! So you get the jackpot, you’re welcome!” she said, well, nearly-shouted, as Galo tugged the socks on over the socks she was already wearing, struggling with the tightness. He was strong; daily visits to the gym had his arms thickly muscled, his chest broad, but he wasn’t exactly trying to break his elderly aunt’s foot here, so he couldn’t just shove.

“Thank you, Auntie Bethany,” he said, trying to sound actually grateful and not just tiredly patient. So this was her newest passive-aggressive ploy. After Galo told the rest of the family there was money involved, the others would show up with their plastic smiles and loud voices and then she would get to gripe at how they were only in it for the money, but change the will up anyway to keep them visiting. She liked to play “games” like that. Galo tried very, very hard not to sigh.

It’d probably keep up after the hospital stay, too, Galo mused as he sat back down in the chair. People showing up to her home with flowers and wine and “earnest” attempts to make sure she was recovering just fine. Honestly, who knew how long she could drag this out? Her poor lawyer. He hoped she was at least paying them well.

The lawyer did, in fact, arrive, and Galo quietly apologized each time his aunt criticized or scolded the poor man.

“You’re uh, gonna need to use my legal name,” Galo said, handing him his driver’s license. “Not the uh, childhood nickname she keeps calling me.”

The lawyer gave him a sympathetic pat, and it was hours after Galo had planned that he finally managed to get out from under his aunt’s endless conversation and go home already. He sighed, dropping his coat on the floor of his small apartment’s entryway. For all that he was competent, intelligent, and good with organizational skills and the like; Galo had not been particularly successful in his life. He was good with people and good with life skills, he just.

Bluh!

Bluh bluh bluh! Now was not the time for a pity party, or else he’d turn into his aunt. He played an hour of his most recent video game, an open-world with a semi-voluntary plot, before turning in for the night. He should think about investing in a rabbit or something. He could eek out the money, and his apartment got awfully lonely, with just him, a computer, and a potted plant.

In the morning, he knew he should email his family and let them know Auntie Bethany wanted visitors, and she was messing around with her will. He should. A good son, nephew, brother, and cousin would. But then his dad would call him, asking for specifics (it never mattered how many specifics Galo put in the email. His dad would always call and ask for more), and that would mean talking to his dad and he really, really wasn’t ready for that, at the moment. Or at all. He could do it later. It wasn’t like Auntie Bethany was actually dying, after all, she was just up to her hysterics again. And god, if Galo’s sister or brother decided they wanted more than just an email… if they decided to “pop in” after visiting their aunt and gloat to Galo about how now it was their names on the will…

Oh and don’t even get Galo started on what Uncle Mike would do. He was a bigger attention whore than Auntie Bethany.

So he just… didn’t write. Didn’t call. Nothing that big was happening, they could afford to wait a few days before feeding into Auntie Bethany’s weird games. She could probably use a little disappointment for the first time in her spoiled, nasty life anyway.

Galo took a deep breath and covered his face with his broad palm. He shouldn’t think like that. That was uncalled for. Auntie Bethany was a fine person, she was just rude, and loud, and inconsiderate. But she was family. He should be polite. But, still, it would be fine if she had to wait a little while for everyone to get in on her weird ploys.

So imagine Galo’s surprise when the hospital called him after work, letting him know his aunt had, unfortunately, not made it through her surgery.

Her mansion (and that’s really the only word that could describe it, though “castle” was more fitting, in Galo’s opinion (it had an estate garden, who has an ‘estate garden’?!?!)) was huge. Galo had made that observation before, of course, every time he’d spent the weekend as a kid and the couple of times he’d visited during a family gathering. He couldn’t really believe it was his. The castle, the pool, the garden, all of her badass furniture he’d been warned to keep off of as a kid, her hella entertainment system that he honestly couldn’t wait to hook his game consoles up to. Didn’t she also own slaves? He wasn’t certain; he tended to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible at family gatherings, in order to survive said family gatherings, but he was pretty sure she’d mentioned putting away her servants for the evenings since they were “eyesores” or some shit. And he definitely remembered her having one when he was a kid, a glass-eyed guy only about a decade older than Galo himself.

Whatever. He unlocked the front door with her keys, attached to his keychain now, and took in the familiar foyer. He should go upstairs and check if her turquoise guest room was the same as when he was younger. It had an en suite bathroom with a bath the size of a hot tub, and it could definitely serve as his new master bedroom. Auntie Bethany’s had been the size of a ballroom, and he really didn’t need all that space (or to sleep in the same bed his dead aunt had slept in, guh).

“Mistress, w--” a thin woman with pale hair and over-wide eyes entered swiftly, then flinched back, grinding to a halt when she saw Galo.

“S-Sir, I’m sorry sir, but our mistress is out at the moment. You will have to visit her at a later time.”

“Oh, uh, I’m, not a home invader,” Galo assured, setting his little potted plant down near the antique vase his aunt had boasted about so frequently. The poor lady was trembling visibly, though he had to give her credit for not screaming and calling the police upon seeing a stranger enter her home. He probably should’ve called out and introduced himself when he let himself in; he’d just been thinking about how Auntie Bethany had kept slaves. “My aunt had a relapse, recently, and was admitted to the hospital yesterday. Uh, her surgery didn’t go so well,” Galo said, rubbing at the back of his neck. He needed to shave down his undercut, he thought rather inanely. “She didn’t make it. I uh, I’m sorta the sole inheritor of her estate? For the time being; at the funeral I’m sure we’ll get into plenty of arguments,” he said with a forced chuckle.

“My name’s Galo,” he greeted, extending his hand to the woman.

He was a little taken aback when she genuflected and kissed his palm, dropping fluidly and with unexpected grace. “Oh, uh, okay,” he said, cupping her face and stroking a thumb over her cheekbone. Except, whoops, that was the wrong thing to do, he realized, since her face contorted and her whole body locked up.

“Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you,” Galo said, pulling his hand away immediately. She went down on both knees and pressed her forehead to the floor, further confusing Galo, her movements still fluid as silk.

“I apologize, Master. I reacted poorly.”

“No, no,” Galo rushed to reassure, his words making her flinch. “You’re good, you’re fine, it’s alright,” he tried, and that went over a little better.

“I apologize if I have angered you, Master.”

“You--didn’t. I’m just, surprised is all.” He bent down and touched his fingers very lightly against the back of her hand, and he noted that she flinched again. Okay. Probably a trauma response. His aunt had likely picked her up from somewhere bad, but that was alright. He had significantly more emotional intelligence than Auntie Bethany; he was better suited to help this kind of person than she was. Would have been.

“Will you tell me your name?” Galo asked, voice intentionally calm and reassuring.

“...” He watched her swallow, his brows furrowing. Did she… not know her own name? “Whatever pleases Master best,” she eventually answered.

“Oh,” Galo said, voice soft and pitying. “No, that’s alright. You can tell me what you’d like to be called.”

“I--wouldn’t, be presumptuous, Master, and put words in your mouth.” Man, she was shaking like a leaf. He would definitely be stuttering, if he was that scared.

But a direct approach clearly wasn’t going to work, here, he couldn’t just do it over and over again and expect different results. He’d come at this from a different angle.

“You’re so obedient,” he praised, stroking a finger down her fingers and along the back of her hand, light as a feather. “You’re very good, you were trained to answer just like that, weren’t you?”

“Yes Master,” she said, sounding relieved. Good.

“But right now, what I’m asking for is your name. If you don’t like the one Auntie Bethany called you, that’s fine, you can pick something else, but I’m not going to think of one for you, okay? I need you to do that, now,” Galo said patiently, feeling a little silly for talking to a grown adult in the same tone he might take with a crying child, but, well. Trauma response.

“Nyla, Master.”

“Good girl, Nyla.” He heard her breath of relief, and tapped the backs of his knuckles against her hand. “Stand up for me?” he asked, slipping his hands underneath her palms. He rose, and she stood with him, again with that eerie grace, pretty much none of her weight against his hands, although he had intended to help her up.

“So, is there anyone else here I should meet?” Galo asked, smiling patiently at Nyla who did not meet his eyes at all. “That other guy. Gr… G-something.”

“Greyson, if it pleases you Master.”

“That’s it! He still around?”

“Yes Master. I can fetch the others for you, Master, and bring them to wherever you’d prefer to inspect us.”

“Uh,” Galo blinked twice. Okay. Nyla was clearly going to require a lot of delicacy, and while he was definitely equipped to do that, he wasn’t fast. “Sure, how about you get the others in the--” No, not the living room, the furniture in there was all tiny and mostly just for her weird 60’s aesthetic, “--den.”

He mentally added “den” onto his brand new list of things that made Nyla lock up. He should probably turn it into a physical list, at some point, since he was going to live with her now, and it was important to make note of things like this.

But the damage was done, and maybe this would be a good way to show her his aunt’s den wasn’t like… whatever it was, that she’d experienced before here.

His den. It wasn’t his aunt’s anymore. Auntie Bethany was dead.

It was a weird feeling, he thought to himself as he grabbed his potted plant and went upstairs to the guest bedroom that was, in fact, still just as cool as he remembered it. He set it on the windowsill of his house. It was a weird feeling, a really weird feeling, that someone he’d known all his life was suddenly… gone.

He didn’t miss her. He didn’t like her, and they certainly hadn’t been close. He wasn’t mourning her. But. Hm. His grandparents had all died before he could remember them, so he hadn’t really had a death in the family before. It was strange and almost-melancholy, thinking that his aunt would never again walk through this place. Would never hassle him about his hair at family gatherings ever again, or complain about the TV being too quiet, or eat cantelope with her mouth open.

He shook himself. He had other people to say hello to and introduce himself to. He gave his cheeks two smart pats and left the room, mentally plotting where he would put his own personal effects. And ugh, he had to get rid of that weird hall painting. Actually, why not just do that now; he was there and it was large, but if he gripped under the frame on top he could sorta-shoulder-carry it down the stairs. The weight wasn’t much of an issue. He was a particularly buff stud, after all.

“Oh, there’s more of you than I expected,” he mentioned offhand, reaching the den. Five slaves stood at strict attention, ignoring the human-sized furniture he’d intended them all to sit on, including a girl who couldn’t possibly be older than twenty. He stared at her, a muted horror not quite breaking past the shock. She was absolutely covered in bruises. Some were purple, some yellowing, some bright red and fresh, hardly older than two or possibly three days.

“Oh god,” he breathed, very, very deliberately reminding himself to move slowly as he approached her. Poor thing! Had she fallen? The bruises differed in age too much for that. He reached out a hand to her, slowly, well within her field of vision, but she still flinched.

“Master!” Nyla interrupted before he could touch. “That one is Lilah, she’s the gardener for the estate.”

A little thing like her? The whole estate? Using the machinery needed to keep up with a yard this big, no wonder she was covered in injuries! She was way too small to be handling stuff that could hurt her like this!

“Nice to meet you, Lilah,” Galo said gently, extending his hand again, just as slow and careful as the first time. Lilah sank to one knee, almost as fluid as Nyla, and kissed his palm, which. Alright! Cool! Sure! Maybe Auntie Bethany had gotten Nyla and Lilah together?

Galo gave her a single, quick pat on her head, not wanting a repeat of whatever distress he’d caused Nyla in the foyer. Lilah was tan and freckled, with sunbleached brown hair, and wow, yikes, she was so small. Galo swallowed and turned to the next person in the lineup.

“Greyson,” Galo greeted with a smile. He looked a lot like he had when Galo was younger, just sorta gaunt now. Reddish-brown hair that was only just starting to sprout a handful of gray hairs, tall and skinny with knobby hands. “Remember me?”

“I do, Master Galo,” Greyson said with a bow, hand raised to his chest, and Galo chuckled.

“Good to see you again, dude. It’s been years,” Galo said, leaving his hands in his pockets. He’d already met this guy, however long ago that it might have been.

“It has, Master, I am delighted to see you again,” Greyson said, monotone and still bowing, but Galo was inclined to believe him. Greyson had always been like this, as near as he remembered.

“Look a little different than last time, huh?” Galo asked with a proud grin. Greyson lifted his head and quirked a very, very small smile of his own.

“I believe you’ve put some weight on, Master.”

Galo made note of how everyone else in the room tensed up at Greyson’s words, but he also laughed. “You bet I have,” Galo bragged, flexing an impressive bicep, before taking a mental red sharpie and writing DON’T DO THAT around the action in big letters. Lilah looked like she might cry.

He’d have to catch up with Greyson later. Or, well, get to know the guy? He hadn’t had much interest in the man when he was a kid, more preoccupied with the pool and old movie collection. He turned to the next person, a man closer to his own age.

“What’s your name?” Galo asked, calm, friendly smile that he used during work on his face.

“Evan, if it please you.” Evan had fluffy dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and strong, handsome features.

God, everyone here was really formal. Greyson, he got. Again, the man had always been like that, but man. They sounded like they all came out of those weird books Auntie Bethany was always reading.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Evan,” Galo said, doing a little wordplay, and Evan lowered his eyes deferentially. Galo lifted his hand to maybe clap him on the shoulder or rub at his own hair or something, but Evan knelt mid-motion and kissed Galo’s hand and okay! Maybe his aunt had been the one with the hand-kissing-thing after all. That was weird as hell to think about, and Galo was gonna try not to.

“This is Sasha, Master,” Nyla stated when Galo turned to the last person in the room, a woman with thick, curly, dark hair and wide blue eyes. She was pale as a ghost. “If you will allow it, she does not speak very well, and I am capable of speaking for her, Master.”

“Okay, sure,” Galo said, not going to push too hard for information on that. And he wasn’t, like, gonna tell them no, either. If this was what made them comfortable, then alright, he could deal with that. “Nice to meet you, Sasha, you don’t need to kiss my hand.”

Sasha nodded tensely, and ugh, maybe he should have let her? Now she was the odd one out. Well, Greyson hadn’t either, so…

Nope, don’t overthink it. Galo could tell there was going to be plenty for him to overthink, moving forward, and he needed to get into the habit of cutting that in the bud right now.

“Alright, so, nice to meet you all,” he already said that. “I’m new, and I’m gonna be honest, the fanciest thing I’ve ever owned is my computer rig, so I’m probably gonna make a couple mistakes in the whole… running an estate, thing, at first. You’re all allowed and encouraged to make suggestions or tell me if I’m doing something stupid on accident, okay?”

It didn’t look like that was okay at all, but Nyla nodded with a “Yes Master” anyway so eh, Galo would take it.

What should he say now? Telling them they were dismissed would make him feel like a hoity toity jackass, but it also felt kind of lame to just… leave it at that. “I’m also a little slow,” he warned, “so please be patient with me. Sometimes I need an extra couple of seconds to think things through.”

“Understood, Master,” Nyla answered again, Evan swallowing nervously at Galo’s words. Yeah, he was definitely going to have to make physical lists of weird observations. Everyone here looked like they had trauma they were processing. Yikes. His aunt was hardly a philanthropist; why would she take in this many skittish people?

His stomach ended up saving him from further floundering, gurgling loudly. Lunch had been so long ago...

“Master, may we prepare dinner for you?” Nyla asked, swaning down to her knees and bowing her head low.

“Yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m allergic to mushrooms so nothing with those, please.”

“Yes, Master. Is there anything you’d prefer tonight?”

Hm. They seemed to like direction, and giving them a solid lead would probably be kinder than forcing them to think for themselves and worry about what he did or didn’t like. But at the same time, he had no idea what his aunt kept stocked.

“How about pasta with white sauce?” he suggested. Open ended, basic ingredients that they were pretty much guaranteed to have, and easy to make. And relatively quick; he was hungry.

“As you wish, Master.”

“Cool. I’m gonna start going through my aunt’s stuff. Lemme know when it’s ready.”

Galo left the den with a “Yes Master” chasing his heels, and rubbed at the back of his neck. Goddamn, these people were not having a great time. But that was okay. Galo was confident he could help.

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radrita · 3 years

Text

Radical Forgiveness!

Pain like I never knew entered my life on August 23rd, 2018. And believe me when I tell you I've been in pain a lot as a child. When I was three, my mom left my brother and me with our dad and grandpa (his dad). When I say left, I mean, never came back. I should mention when I was 15, I found out my mom lived two miles from me my whole life and had another family, complete with a new husband and 3 kids she raised that I never knew about. I met up with her and spent the rest of my days until she passed away, trying to get her to love and accept me like the children she raised. But that would never happen. When my sister, who was raised by my mom, was told she had cirrhosis of the liver from alcoholism and would succumb to it, my mom wished it was me that was going to die instead. Those words would pervade my soul for a LONG time!We were in some foster homes from the ages of 3 to 5. Then our dad, who was an alcoholic, couldn't take care of us anymore, so we were sent to live in an orphanage, and I remained there for seven years. My brother got to go live with our dad and grandpa when he was around 13. I didn't, and I will explain why. We visited home on weekends and holidays until my dad molested me on a few different occasions between 10 and 12. I finally told someone, and then I wasn't able to see him anymore for several years. It may seem to you that it would have been the rational thing to do. But I already lost my mom, and my dad was all I had left. So, it was very heart-wrenching to tell someone. Also, my grandpa (my dad's dad) would pleasure himself in front of me all the time for several of my early teen years. And when I was pregnant with my daughter, my stepdad tried to get me to give him oral sex. Ugh, no wonder I had men issues.

When I turned 15, I had a chance to live with my dad and grandpa again. My caseworker (I was a ward of the state) had me explain what my dad did to me. I was screaming in my head (no, please don't make me). But she did, and his then-wife blamed me, saying I dressed sexy around him (I was 10 lady, geez), and my dad chose her over me. As a result, I only saw him one time over the next 30 years when his mom died (my grandma), and we saw each other at the funeral. Even though my dad and his wife said they would be in touch with me, they never did. I probably don't need to say that my life took some dark turns through addiction and lots of self-abuse. Ready for the real pain that surpassed even all that excitement?

Here is the story of losing my daughter when she was just 33 and the lengthy voyage through anguish like I've never known! Nicole Marie Cuneo was her birth name, and she was the angel in my life that lit up my whole world. I never knew love like that before she was born. It's like my heart didn't even know how to beat before her. And she was the happiest baby and always smiled. At least until she was about 2, and then something changed in her attitude. I didn't know until she was 5 when I started taking her for counseling that she was sexually abused. It occurred while I was working, and she was in her father's care. I can't even tell you the sick feeling that came over me, and as a result of the changes in her, I would spend years taking her for counseling. It was like I had a different child, and I did. Because when you have something like that happen to you, especially at such a young age, it changes your DNA.

When this beautiful child was twelve, she started on the road to using drugs, and as a family, we would watch her struggle with that for the rest of her days. I should mention that I met a man (a wonderful man) that adopted Nicole and my other daughter Samantha Lynn. And, to this day, he is still the constant, stable man in Samantha's life. For that, I will be forever grateful. There are so many details I'm not covering about this journey because it would become a book. I aspire to keep the focus on the journey to forgiveness, but for now, It's time for me to take a break from writing because it's still too painful for me to focus on the loss for too long…... I'm back after a night that was once again filled with tossing and turning physically and mentally. I mentioned that I also had struggles with addiction, which would plague my life from the time I was in my early thirties, and I still battle it as a 56-year-old. For the most part, I have a program and a higher power that keeps it at bay. Still, as all addicts know, it takes daily commitment contingent on our spiritual condition.

Forgiveness is a term defined in the dictionary as: in a psychological sense, is the intentional and voluntary process by which one who may initially feel victimized, undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding a given offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance. So, by this information, it means I wish no ill will on the people in my life that have caused me harm or malice. Phew, let me tell you that I have had numerous times that wasn't the case! Visions and thoughts in my mind had me showing up and shooting the people that hurt my sweet girl.

My daughter, as I mentioned, struggled with addiction, and due to that fact, she had three stints in prison. The last stretch, she was sentenced to six years, and she served all but five days of it. She was about to be free when……two weeks before this, she was pounded in the head on two different occasions —once with soap in a sock and one instance with a payphone. I was told she died from long-term methamphetamine use, and it caused a brain aneurysm. This means she was using the entire time while being incarcerated. Oh God, NO, and please help me was all I could think when I was given that news. It's a complex kind of hell to not know what your child died from, and almost 3 years later, I still don't understand a lot of the details. Was it, in fact, the beatings, or was it the drug use? Prisons aren't forthcoming, as you can probably assume. Did they have something to hide? I'm pretty sure they have plenty to hide! Nicole was a sweet, kind, and caring person. Her nickname in prison was Shine because she always spread Sunshine and tried to keep up everyone's spirits. And she was capable of being that way while incarcerated and having to literally fight for her life.

This leads me to the how and why of my journey to forgiveness. I think I was somehow inspired to forgive from a very young age. When I was a kid, I lived my life feeling like I wasn't of this world because nothing made sense. Meaning, how could so many things go so wrong so early in my life? But I also remember thinking numerous times that people do the best they can, so I didn't judge them. And I felt that way pretty much my whole life and still do. A friend brought to my attention that maybe I didn't forgive people as the dictionary defines. But is it possible I had a twisted understanding of what forgiveness meant? And that perhaps I thought I was excusing people's behavior but that I didn't go through the emotions and changes needed in my heart and soul that were required. And that, in fact, I possibly just didn't love myself enough because of all the trauma I endured, that I just thought I forgave them? In other words, I thought I did, but because I didn't love myself, I was just saying It was ok that they hurt me, and (oh well) life goes on?

Um, no, I do love myself! And believe me, when I tell you, I hurt from those offenses against me to my essence (hence addiction, low self-esteem, and pushing people away for a good part of my life). Radical forgiveness doesn't derive from the belief that it's the right thing to do. Therefore, I'm just going to forgive them. And when I hear people that have lost a loved one to murder say that they are evil or are monsters, it makes me sick to my stomach. I feel we are all humans and connected to the universe and each other. If I genuinely accept that, how could I want someone to be eliminated because of my hatred for them? If you look in someone's eyes (soul), how can you want them to die? I didn't and can't give life, so taking it away is also not an option. I know it's revolutionary thinking because when I talk to most people about this topic, they look at me hastily. I TRULY, in my heart and soul, know that there is NOTHING anyone can do to me or anyone that I couldn't forgive. I also love myself enough to know that I will be the one to suffer if I don't. It's like peeing on yourself and expecting someone else to feel the wetness and embarrassment from it.

I love my daughter with the most heartfelt essence of what love means. I grieve every day that I will never be able to smell her scent, feel her embrace, see people's faces light up when she walks in a room, hear her witty sense of humor. And even miss the fact that she was a pain in my ass because of her addiction. When people ask me how many kids I have, it still throws me for a loop. Initially, if I would not have read a book about it, the response they offered the readers to make would have been incomprehensible. They said to say how many kids you gave birth to and not how many you have now. Thank God I read that book! Because that circumstance and several others I probably would have never known how to manage could have been a moment to drive me literally insane.

I have another daughter and Nicky left us a son, and the last thing on earth I want it's for her to lose me on top of losing her sister. I will never be ok that I will never give Nicky the love I have for her again. But hurting others will never provide those moments back to me!

I want people to know that forgiveness restores your soul and allows you to be of service to others and yourself. Without it, I know I will continue to struggle in life, and she would NOT want that for me. She always said that I was a strong person and that she respected me for that. I can't in good conscience have resentment for the ones that hurt or possibly murdered her. I don't want anyone to suffer pain for their actions. Just learn from them. I believe we all just live according to our experiences and do the best we can with what we have learned thus far in life. The ONLY thing I want to come out of losing her is for change to occur in the justice system. An addict that is imprisoned due to addiction is injustice! I'm not a religious person; I'm spiritual. That means we are all connected and equal and should try our best to understand and comfort those in need. And yes, that includes those with mental illness. After all, addiction is a disease (dis-ease) and is a mental illness and should be treated as such.

I'll close with this; perhaps I can forgive because, in my addiction, I have done so many things I vowed I would never do, and it has been excused too many times to count. This has given me the ability to go on and keep trying to be a better person in my life. As I discussed earlier, as a child, I felt I was able to forgive. I soundly believe part of that is the spirituality (higher power) that has always been and always will be in my life. This story is my endeavor to hopefully help others who struggle with forgiveness. And possibly give them what they need to move on past the judgments and/or stigma. I have struck the wall, cussed God, blasted the people that hurt her, and questioned how I would live another day without her. God help me has and is the continual prayer since the day I lost her. She exists in my heart memory, and I prefer to cherish all of the memories, good and heart-wrenching. Because that is the sum of the person that was given to me. She will forever be my angel. I stated that she was the light in my life and the first love in my life when she was born, and that's why I gave her the nickname Angel. She will eternally be that light, and I choose to not put darkness on that by not being able to pardon. So, if you grapple with forgiving someone, think about the freedom that will thoroughly transform your world and those around you if you can let go! I still struggle with my addiction from time to time, but I know it's a process. Forgiveness is an extraordinary place to start because it empowers me to have the opportunity of growth and faith that life is worth living in all its glory and pain.

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