#and she did end up accommodating that and i don't hold it against her

[multi-lefaiye]

but yeah something something like... i definitely support including content warnings as much as possible, even ones that might be particularly unusual, but it's equally important to consider the impact of listing certain things as warnings.

like that meme of "can you trigger tag lesbians" i've seen before. like... i don't mean this at all in an insulting way, but if any group of people simply existing causes you so much discomfort that you ask people to provide content warnings for their existence, whether in fiction or otherwise.... that's something you really need to unpack and work through. because that very *very* easily steers rapidly into outright bigotry, intentional or otherwise, and working through that discomfort is the first step to unlearning that sort of thing.

[luveline]

Please a Hotch (new girl dad LMFAO) little fic where he discovers the joys and wonders of being a girl dad 😭🤍 like dressing up and playing tea party, or ‘honey, what do I put in her hair?? A bow? A ribbon?? A headband?? A clip??’ Or something about their baby girl always running to him when she bumps her head or falls!! I think it would be really cute

“Do you mind?” you ask through giggles. 

Aaron rubs his hand up the length of your stomach. It tickles in a strange way, but you’re laughing because he’s cornered you on the couch. He takes up the entirety of your view, the air hot between your close faces. 

“No,” he says simply. He has big hands, warm hands. They leave heat in their wake where they touch you. 

“No, come on. I can’t see Jane.” You’re mostly kidding. You really can’t see Jane, but she’s about three feet away, and your living room is baby proofed.

Aaron peeks behind his shoulder. His smile says more than words —he must have caught her smiling herself. “You okay, honey?”

“Yes. Okay. Okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m okay, I’m just giving mommy some kisses.” Aaron strokes your stomach with a loving thumb. “You want to come over here for a cuddle?” 

Jane doesn’t answer. Aaron turns back to you with a glowing smile. “She’s very happy. Now let me kiss you–” You’re laughing again as he kisses you, your cheek, the high point and the end of your brow. 

“I can’t believe you’ve cornered me,” you say, nudging him away to hold his face in your hands. “It’s too warm in here for this, you need to give me some space.”

“I don’t want space from you,” he jokes, matching your playful tone.

“Daddy!” Jack calls from somewhere deeper in the house. “I need help!”

“With what?” he calls, sitting up and away from your touch. He squeezes your leg as he leaves, his voice echoing against the hallway walls, “Jack? What’s the problem, buddy?” 

He waits for an answer he doesn’t get before heading upstairs. You weren’t lying when you said it was too hot for kisses —the winter chill is pervasive and Jane is vulnerable to the cold, so the heat is high and the Hotchner boys are pink in the cheeks every time you see them. You fan your face, tracking Jane’s clumsy waddling as she ferries a pink teddy bear next to her baby doll beside the picnic blanket you’d laid out for her. 

“Having fun, Janey?” you ask. 

“Baba,” she mumbles. 

“Alright, that’s fun. How about I go make us some dinner?” 

“Babababa…” 

“Bababa,” you say back. 

You set about cleaning the mess she’s making before it can explode and prop the door between the living room and the kitchen open to watch her while you peel some potatoes. She plays happily for a while, and upstairs you can hear the celebratory shouts of the boys having figured something out. “Come have some juice before you do the next part,” Aaron says. 

With a sudden bump and a telling silence, Jane falls over. You drop your potatoes and wipe your hands on your front, prepared to sweep her up in your arms and coo away any tears. Her crying rings like a storm siren, so loud you miss the rush of footsteps down the stairs. 

“Baby,” you say softly, holding out your arms as you approach. Aaron and Jack trickle into the room behind her. “Let mommy see? What did you do, huh?” 

She climbs onto her feet. You don't even realise she’s looking away from you until she’s running at her father’s legs, completely ignoring your offered embrace. “Oh, sweetheart,” Aaron says, bending down to meet her. “What did you do? You hurt yourself? Let me have a look. Let me see.” 

Your chest is a pit, that falling feeling as though you’ve missed a step, but the open joy on Aaron’s face soothes any jealousy quickly. “What did you do?” he asks again, lifting his head to accommodate her little body as she wraps her arms and legs around him. He picks her up. She looks small under his chin. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Jack weaves around him to hug your thigh. “Did she fall?” he asks. 

He can come to you for anything, big or small, just like Jane can go to her father. You ruffle his soft hair with a smile. “She’s just shocked when things don’t feel nice because she’s so little. It probably didn’t hurt very much, okay? Don’t worry.” 

“Don’t listen to mommy,” Aaron murmurs, patting what looks like the entire span of Jane’s back with a barely opened palm, “I’m sure it hurt lots and lots.” 

“Dad,” she mumbles tearily.

Aaron gives you the look. One he does all too often when he’s feeling grateful for the things he has, his brow pinched into a gentler furrow than usual. “I know, honey. That floor is so mean, always hurting you. I think we should get some soft carpets instead, what do you think?” 

Jack tugs on your hand. “Can you make me some apple juice, please? I think he will be here for a while.” 

You’re thinking there’ll be carpets fitted in here within the month. “Sure, babe. You wanna help me make some French fries?” 

[jellycreamjammedart]

i LOVE LOVE LOVE your idea of post-bad end cassie sticking around to try fixing everything and befriending the ruined robots SOB. Do you have any headcanons for them in this setting?

oh boi DO I (post-bad end brainrot post here)

M.X.E.S and Helpi are BOTH sassy little bitches. They bicker at each other over things a lot like two geeky nerds. Unfortunately Cassie has to watch them bickering be it through the vanni mask or the implant. Sometimes either one or both of them ramble over something code/technology based to Cassie, essentially making her their "debuggy ducky".

They collect the Freddy-talk to make sure the Mimic can't use it again to trick Cassie again or trick future victims so easily with it. Cassie also claims Gregory's forgotten Glam Freddy backpack for herself for better inventory (and maybe anything useful inside if there's anything.) Finder's keepers, bitch.

After finding a blue spray paint can (many cans are seen abandoned through, having been used for the graffiti stuff,) Cassie uses it to paint Prototype Glamrock Freddy's endo claws blue, to match his casing hands a little. It's not much but boy does that make him feel fabulous! She does the same for Roxy's claws after finding a green one.

They find an usable old stroller to carry Monty. He's lowkey embarrassed, but he certainly prefers this accommodation over having to drag and crawl himself everywhere.

On their quest to reactivate the security nodes they all also keep on the look out for anything that could be used to fix one of them a little bit (like a spare arm for Chica or spare eye(s) for Roxy, things to help them fix Bonnie, anything that could help any of them.)

Speaking of, Chica donated one of her eyes to Roxy. One eye is better than none.

All the robots are equipped with some medical knowledge in case they had an emergency with patrons back in the PizzaPlex glory, especially the Daycare Attendant/Eclipse. They all try to help patch Cassie up from injuries caused by the elevator drop.

The mini Music Men follow Cassie like ducklings. They're also great at finding any goods due to fitting through cramped nookies and crannies and locate things the others wouldn't be able to reach due to being bigger.

Helpi and M.X.E.S seeing that Monty shrine through Cassie's point of view: "IS THAT MONTY'S FUCKING LEGS-"

You can bet they stop for a bit to play the Chica's Feeding Frenzy and Monty's Gator Golf arcades. They either take turns or gather around Cassie to watch her play and cheer her on it. Listen they all went through a LOT, they NEED a little harmless reprieve!

Roxy, Monty and Chica definitely still hold resentment towards Gregory for what he did against them in the past. They're also even madder at him now on Cassie's behalf after learning he sent the elevator plummeting down with her inside and trapping her, an indignation the others also share because "wtf bro what kind of friend does that shit???" The Daycare Attendant is mostly salty because Gregory's a RULE-BREAKER and his ass is still BANNED.

By the way, it doesn't really matter whether it was the real Gregory who betrayed Cassie or the Mimic putting up an act again. As far as they're all concerned, it was the real Gregory.

They pick up and collect plushies that are still in good condition (except ones that are child nodes in M.X.E.S' security, those only get hidden better.) Prototype Glamrock Freddy loves tucking a few plushies into his hatch, they feel soft inside! A few also get put inside Monty's stroller with him.

Despite M.X.E.S' hostility at Cassie back at the beginning, after understanding better why she was doing what she was doing, and watching her trying her hardest and giving it her all to make things better, it learned to hold a huge respect for the girl. The one thing M.X.E.S and Helpi agree with despite their bickering.

M.X.E.S: You're such a sassy little shit! Helpi: Hey don't cuss! The kid can see it through the mask/implant! M.X.E.S: M.X.E.S: OH FUCK, I FORGOR! Helpi: YOU DID IT AGAIN-! Bonnie: Hey kiddo, you okay? Cassie: Huh? Roxy: Yeah, you looked spaced out. Cassie: Oh, yeah I'm okay. M.X.E.S. just said "fuck". The entire squad in the real world: HE WHAT-

[naussensei]

By the end of the day, Suguru was glad he could convince the other two against the arcade and headed to Satoru's room instead, to enjoy some video games before group “studying”. Suguru, of course, knew there wasn’t going to be a whole lot of studying.

They were on their fifth round of Mario Kart, Suguru failing just as miserably as Shoko, when Satoru suggested another game.

“You guys suck,” he complained, accommodating himself on the bed where the other two sat, using Suguru’s thigh as a pillow and Shoko’s legs as a footrest. “Don’t ever get a driver’s license, I’m never getting in a car with one of you two behind the wheel. You should only stick to dragons, Suguru. And you, Shoko, you should only stick to… I don't know. Dead people.”

“Shush, it’s because you keep distracting us,” Suguru said, moving his leg just enough for Satoru’s head to slowly slip off.

“Yeah. Why don’t you ever wanna play if you’re so good at– No!” Shoko yelped as her character fell off a cliff, moving side to side along with the controller. “Ah shit! Not again!”

“You don’t get it,” Satoru sighed. “I don’t play with you two because it would be too easy to beat you, it feels unfair and boring.”

He rolled on the bed to rest his head on Suguru’s thigh again, and this time Suguru did not move away, too busy keeping his elbows up not to smack someone on the face as he moved side to side gripping the controller like his life depended on it. Satoru has said countless times before to turn the joystick and not the controller or his body, but he couldn’t help it.

"Well, pardon me, Mr. Otaku.” Shoko said, setting the controller aside. She’d already given up on finishing the race by then, and so had Suguru. “We can't all be gaming experts."

"I'm not an otaku," Satoru huffed bitterly, "I was just born talented, unlike you two losers."

"If by ‘talented��� you mean staying up until 4 am to get better, sure, you’re very talented," Suguru shot back with a sneer, which earned him a hysterical laugh from Shoko and a massive side eye from Satoru.

“Fuck you,” Satoru slapped him with the back of his hand on the stomach, not as soft as Suguru would’ve wanted; the sound rebounding in the room, only making Suguru laugh harder. Shoko and him were now holding their bellies and doubling down on the bed with laughter, the controllers left forgotten on the floor now.

But Satoru wasn’t laughing. Oh, he wasn’t. He had risen up on his elbows to reach for Suguru’s face to slap him, which Suguru repelled with his own hands to cover his face just in time.

“Wait, stop, stop. Time out— I can’t breathe,” he pleaded between giggles as he tried to resist Satoru’s insistent hands, but the laughter had weakened him. Satoru was now towering over him with an evil laugh that only contributed to make Suguru laugh harder. In a desperate attempt to shake him off, Suguru kicked his feet, which Satoru’s Infinity easily cushioned.

The laughter didn’t linger, however.

Satoru kneeled up, his hand latching onto Suguru’s ankle. He yanked it up, and the next moment Suguru was lying flat on his back with one foot up, hips slightly lifted off the bed; Satoru staring down at him.

When their eyes met, Suguru’s smile dropped. Something jolted from the tip of his toes down to his head, sinking into the mattress. Everything down his waist seemed to have melted.

Satoru’s grin was short-lived as well. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words could be heard. They were swallowed down as he gulped hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

The air left Suguru’s lungs all at once as he watched him, suddenly suffocated. His chest was crushed, heaving under the weight of Satoru’s gaze; Satoru’s hand burning on his ankle.

“Um, guys…” Shoko’s voice jolted them both out of their stillness, causing them to recoil and swiftly sit up on the bed. For a moment, Suguru had almost forgotten she was still in the room with them, sitting on the bed. If his face had felt hot and flustered before, it was now scarlet red and feverish.

To Suguru’s relief, Shoko was staring at her phone when he worked up the courage to look at her.

“There’ll be no English test tomorrow,” she said, oddly enough, not very enthusiastically.

“Why?” Satoru asked, but Suguru did not dare to look at him yet.

“Classes got canceled.” She brought her phone up for them to read a text from Yaga. Suguru took a deep breath, fever still pounding in his temples as Satoru scooted closer. Their shoulders touched when they leaned in to read the message.

Today’s mission:

Grade: 1

Time: 11.30 P.M.

Place: Shinjuku

Meet seniors at the

subway station and

follow instructions.

Be cautious.

[frazzledsoul]

Probably preaching to the choir here, but I find the constant revisionism regarding Christopher Hayden's sporadic attempts at fatherhood rather frustrating.

I often see his fans argue that Lorelai "kept Rory away from him and refused to let him participate" and that "she made it uncomfortable for him." But did she? She declined his marriage proposal because he was uninterested in Rory from the beginning. She left home and moved thirty minutes away, worked her way up to a middle-class life, and made it clear he was free to do whatever the fuck he wanted. We're told he calls Rory every week (I find this unconvincing, but whatever), he sees her on holidays, he knows how to find Rory and Lorelai when he finally visits them 14-15 years after they move there. It sure doesn't sound like Lorelai hid her away and didn't tell Christopher where they lived or refused to allow him to visit her. Not to mention that we are explicitly told in season 1 that she's "always held the door open to her, you just never wanted to use it" and he agrees.

The other thing she tells Rory in that S1 episode is that "he's going to come and go as he pleases, hon, you know that." Contrary to the belief that she kept Rory away from him, she actually is super accommodating any time he wants to show up and contribute and she never rebukes him for all the times he didn't feel like it. She doesn't appear to ever ask him for money or criticize him for being a bad dad and of course, she keeps sleeping with him any time he does anything half-decent. She's raised Rory to think that it's inevitable he's going to treat them like crap and only show up when it's convenient for him and that they can never be mad at him or hold it against him because she didn't marry him when he offered so long ago. The idea that he had a responsibility to Rory regardless of whether Lorelai was willing to be in a relationship with him is not a reality in their world. It doesn't help that both sets of grandparents seem to blame the entire situation on Lorelai and don't expect Christopher to contribute in any way.

And of course, Christopher doesn't really care about Rory. He's mostly eager to act like a dad when there are cracks in Lorelai's relationship with Luke and he senses an opportunity to get in her pants (he usually succeeds at this). Once that opportunity goes away, he disappears. He drops out of Rory's life once Gigi is born. He doesn't appear to be in contact with her after he and Lorelai divorce until it's time for her graduation. After Lorelai stops talking to him once she reconciles with Luke in the post-OS period, he stops talking to Rory, too. Even the offer to pay for the second half of Rory's college education only comes when he inherits a bunch of money he didn't earn and offers to buy *Lorelai* anything she wants until Rory reorients his offer towards something practical. Rory is a means to get to Lorelai and not much more. And of course, we know from AYITL that he sends Gigi away to her mother eventually as well, giving up on her too.

This is not to say that Lorelai always behaves perfectly. She avoids telling Rory about Christopher requesting to make holiday plans with her for a few days and she does a lot to poison Rory against Christopher/Sherry in S3 because SHE'S mad at him for rejecting her and Rory feels she has to take her side. Still, I don't feel this is equal to all of Christopher's neglect and at any rate Rory is a big girl now, a legal adult, and can develop a relationship with her dad beyond her mom if she wants. Christopher doesn't appear to be terribly interested.

(Oh, and the aforementioned S2/S3 behavior is why you shouldn't be best friends with your daughter, as it's inevitable that your hurt feelings will get in the way of what's best for her and her relationship, however frayed, with her other parent. That is another topic, though).

In the end, all this does have a profound effect on Rory. She's often submissive in her relationships (especially with Dean) and lets problems fester instead of dealing with them because that's what's been modeled for her. She also regularly cheats with old boyfriends because her parents taught her that you always have a claim on your first love and that overrides whatever commitment you're currently making. And of course, in the AYITL era she seems to have copied his life patterns a bit too much, as she's got no real incentive to change at this point.

Lorelai wasn't too hard on him. She was way too easy on him and put up with too much of his shit over the years, and that had its own reverberations. Both Lorelai and Rory should have been allowed to be angry at him for his neglect. It never happened.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Captive Part 3

Sihtric x OC

Authors note: the third part of the Captive. If you liked the story – give me a hint that you want it to continue and what you would like to happen next. I have too many endings in my mind and can’t decide.

Summary: Sihtric is sent to Heasten’s camp to spy and discovers the Danes have a captive – young Saxon girl he just can’t leave to her fate.

Word Count: 1,536

Part 1 , Part 2. Part 3, Part 4

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Sihtric knew that the only way to escape the pursuers was to keep moving as fast as they can. There was no time for rest. The Danes will discover Elfflead missing first thing in the morning and the great hunt will start. But they were slow, too slow to make real use of the advantage in time they had. Elfflead stumbled, she was tired and out of breath. Her grip on Sihtric’s hand was getting desperate as she struggled to keep up with his pace.

“I can’t anymore,” she breathed heavily and stopped.

“We can’t stop now. We are close,” Sihtric was determined not to let her rest.

“Close to what?” Elfflead was surprised.

“To the cave I spent the night in on the way here,” Sihtric explained, “But first we must go up that small stream, it will conceal our trace and it is just the opposite direction they will expect us to go. Common, lady, we must move on,” Sihtric commanded and gripped Elfflead’s hand tightly.

---------------------------------------------------------

It was evening again when they reached the cave. Its entrance was concealed by a curtain of ivy and moss. Sihtric carefully pulled them aside and waived to Elfflead to enter it, he followed and let the green curtain to slip back in its place. As they ventured deeper, a hidden expanse unfolded, revealing a cavern spacious enough to provide shelter. Shafts of dim light pierced through narrow crevices in the rock, casting strange glow and shadows upon the chamber's interior. The cavern's floor was carpeted with a bed of moss and soft earth and in the heart of the cave, a natural recess provided a small alcove, just large enough to accommodate a fire.

Sihtric spread his fur coat on the ground and gestured to Elfflead to sit down.

“You must rest, lady. We are safe here and you will need all your strength tomorrow again,” he insisted, “I will make the fire.”

Elfflead curled herself on the coat, but sleep was evading her, and she kept looking over to Sihtric who was sitting on the ground by the fire.

Sihtric did not want to look at Elfflead. He did not know what to do with this girl he had so foolishly rescued without any plan on how to fulfil his promise to lead her to safety. And gods… he wanted to keep that promise more than anything. He could feel her gaze on his back, he knew she did not sleep, and so he turned. She was sitting embracing her knees. Their eyes met for a moment before Elfflead turned ger gaze down to the ground before her feet, her delicate frame trembling with a mixture of fear and exhaustion.

“Sihtric,” she lifted her head and locked her eyes with Sihtric’s, her voice barely above a whisper quivered with desperation, "please don't leave me. I know I'm slowing you down. But there is no way I could survive here without you.”

Sihtric gazed into Elfflead’s eyes. Despair in her voice tugged at his very core and the fragility of her beauty made him almost speechless. He stood up, went towards her, and lowered himself beside her leaning his back against the cave’s walls. He placed his arms around her, pulling her closer. Elfflead stiffened. She had never been so close to any man before in her whole life. It felt so wrong and at the same time so good to be hold by his strong arms and a moment later she relaxed, lowered her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She felt safe although her common sense was telling her that this feeling was completely irrational, even mad.

Sihtric sighed, the smell of her hair and the touch of her head leaning on his shoulder sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.

"Lady Elfflead," Sihtric whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "I could never leave you behind. You are not a burden to me, and you can never be."

Sihtric gently touched her chin with his rough fingers and lifted her face to be able to look into her eyes. Sihtric leaned closer, his voice laced with sincerity. "I have probably gone mad, but you fill me with feelings I never knew existed.”

Tears welled up in Elfflead's eyes, reflecting the wavering firelight and Sihtric was completely smitten by her beauty. All their journey long Sihtric had been trying to suppress the feelings that were kindling in him since the very moment he entered that tent and saw Elfflead for the very first time. It was madness and it was hopeless. He was a Dane and a warrior. There was nothing he could offer to a high-born lady from the richest and powerful house in the whole Mercien. And there was absolutely nothing that could attract such a lady to him. But there he was holding her in his arms and unable to hold back any longer he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against Elfflead's.

It seemed to Elfflead that the air between them had suddenly become charged with an electrifying anticipation. Sihtric’s lips felt so hot on hers. Without even thinking what she was doing, Elfflead kissed him back. Sihtric pulled back with a look of disbelief on his face and his hands trembled as he gently cradled Elfflead's delicate face, his fingers grazing the contours of her cheek. Sihtric leaned in, his breath mingling with hers, and their mouths melded together again, each tender touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through their veins. Sihtric groaned and his lips went exploring the curves of Elfflead's neck and shoulders down to her collarbone. Sihtric wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight and pulling her closer with a strength that conveyed both protection and longing. Sihtric's lips were back on Elfflead’s and his tongue gently sought entry in her mouth, which she granted him with a soft gasp of pleasure. Slowly and gently, he lowered her on his fur coat and while his tongue continued to explore Elfflead’s mouth, his rough warrior hands were brushing her breasts and slipping down to her waist and then to her thighs.

Elfflead’s head was spinning, and her heart raced at such a speed that she thought it must jump out of her breast. Each kiss and each touch were sending waves of pleasure all over her body. Sihtric’s hand that had reached her thigh was now pushing up her dress while his hot lips ventured again to her neck, then down to her collarbone and further down to her breasts. His hand had finally found its way under her dress, and she gasped when he touched her bare skin on her thigh and moved his hand to her bottom. Elfflead was melting in his grip, she had closed her eyes and her fingers were tangling and twisting his long, thick, and curly hair. She stiffened a bit embarrassed that she had no idea how to respond to Sihtric’s touch, how to show him that she wanted him to continue and that she was ready for whatever this man would do with her. In this very moment Sihtric suddenly froze, his left hand was still holding her butt, but in the next second he had withdrawn it and placed on her cheek holding her face firmly and making her to look straight into his eyes.

“Lady,” he spoke his voice hoarse and carrying a hint of sudden realisation, “have you ever been with a man before?”

Elfflead was unable to say anything. She was staring in Sihtric’s eyes and felt tears welling up in hers. She shook her head and in the very same moment Sihtric let go of her and withdraw from their embrace.

“No, no… I am so sorry. Please don’t go away,” she prayed.

“You are sorry? For what?” Sihtric asked in confusion.

“I don’t know how to please a man,” she was whispering with her cheeks blushing and her gaze turned to the ground.

Sihtric was looking at her in disbelief. He sighed and leaned closer to Elfflead just to put a kiss on her forehead.

“You silly girl!” he exclaimed with astonishment, “Fuck, I am such a fool! I should have thought about that before... I can’t do this, lady! I can’t use your fear and desperation, not in this way. I could never forgive myself if I did.”

“But, Sihtric, no ... I want this. Yes, it is my first time ever, but I want this. Not because I am afraid of you leaving me. Don’t think so. I have never felt safer in my whole life than in the moment you were holding me. I want this, I really do…” Elfflead was almost begging, but Sihtric had already gotten up.

“Lady, I promise I will get us out of here and bring you to safety. And then you can decide whether you really want something from me or not,” Sihtric’s voice was full of determination. It took him all his inner strength to turn away and to go to the small fireplace. He did not look back being afraid that if he had he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

“Sleep, lady! I will keep the watch.”

[whumpy-daydreams]

An Unexpected Reunion

Masterlist

Previous Next

CW: ref to past abuse, ref to torture, swearing

Rowena spent a month in temporary accommodation. It wasn't that she didn't like living with the others, but it was a constant reminder of what had happened. Emma and Shaan were moving out anyway - together, which wasn't a surprise.

The staff had been helpful in setting her up in an apartment in her birth city. Perhaps it was a stupid move, a sentimental move, but it was the only place she truly knew and liked.

The flat was small and the landlord was a dick, but it was in a good location, high up overlooking a small district of cafes and charity shops.

She'd got a job in one of the coffee shops a couple of streets away. The other employees were friendly enough, even if they did look at her weirdly when they thought she couldn't see. But they never asked what happened.

Rowena spent the rest of her time drinking or rebuilding her strength, turning half of her apartment into a makeshift gym. Bur doing push-ups wasn't enough to reassure herself that she would be able to win in a fight.

...

Paz took a deep breath as he paid the entry fee to the fighting pit. It had been two years since Rowena had left. A whole year after she should have returned.

He'd pieced together some of the pieces. Some of it he'd suspected years ago, though he'd never told her his theories. But trying to find a hitman (hitwoman?) was not easy. There were only whispers, the odd post on some dark-web forum, brief news stories about businessmen who ended up dead.

It was a whisper that had brought him here. A tale about a girl who was raking in money at some grimy underworld fighting pit. Paz just hoped he was wrong.

The stadium was packed, sweat and blood filling the air, mingling with screams and loud bets. Paz pushed through the tightly packed bodies, the spectators too engrossed in the fight at hand to give him a second glance.

It was obvious the fight had been going on for a while. Both people in the ring were panting, covered in bruises and dried blood as they circled each other, fists half raised. Paz's heart sank.

Her hair was shorter and there was a gauntness to her face that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen her - but it was her.

...

Rowena was tired. And sore. This was her third opponent of the night, and the fight had gone on for almost ten minutes. Time to finish this up.

She dodged as the man lunged forward with a sloppy jab, bringing her shin up into his stomach. He grunted, stumbling back. From there it was easy: cross, hook, uppercut, and he was down.

Cheers and groans erupted from the crowd as money exchanged hands. The ringmaster stepped forward, holding Rowena's arm up as he paraded her around the grimy ring.

"Anyone else want to try their luck against tonight's champion?" he shouted over the din, when someone in the crowd caught Rowena's eye.

"Shit," she muttered. "I'm done. Get some fresh meat in here, I'll take my money in a minute." The ringmaster didn't bother hiding his scowl but let her go, quickly beckoning two more men into the ring.

...

Rowena was in the corner taking the bloody tape off her knuckles when Paz found her.

"Rowena?"

"Hello Paz." She didn't look at him. He exhaled heavily.

"What- Jesus, Ro. What the hell? Hello? That's it? It's been two years." Paz hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected to feel angry.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know - 'oh my god, Paz, I've been looking for you', or 'sorry I left you with no information', or 'I missed you'. What happened?"

"Is that it?" Finally Rowena looked at him, eyes hard. "Hi Paz, I missed you, sorry I was forced to leave. Are we done? Good." She turned away again, pulling on a plaid shirt.

"No, that's-" he took a deep breath, his voice softer. "That's not what I meant. What happened to you? Where have you been?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!"

"Why? Why does it matter so much to you? Why do I-" Rowena's voice hitched in her throat.

"Because you're my friend, Rowena. Because you're funny and strong and brave. I've spent months looking for you. When you didn't come back I was so scared you were dead. And then I find you in an illegal fucking fighting pit and it's like you don't even want to know me..."

Rowena's fingers twitched though she stayed still. "I thought it would be easier." Paz struggled to hear her over the din, but he could still make out the strain in her voice.

"That what would be easier?" he pushed.

"Everything. I only ever put you in danger."

"I can look after myself, Ro." She laughed; a cold, dry chuckle. "Just because you're some assassin that I'm completely helpless? I'm not a child." Rowena tensed as he mentioned being an assassin and spun to face him. Now it was Paz's turn to laugh. "Yeah, I worked it out. Not so fucking stupid after all."

"You know jack shit about me. About what I had to do to protect you." Her words were like venom in her mouth. "And now you have the nerve to tell me I'm cruel?"

"For the record I never said you were being cruel - but even if I had, you've killed people-"

"It's not like I had a choice, Paz."

"Bullshit! Everyone can choose to do the right thing."

"I tried." Paz rolled his eyes and Rowena stepped towards him, hands balled into fists. "No. Don't roll your fucking eyes. Because when I said no Marcus threatened you. Told me how he'd make me watch as he cut bits off of you."

Paz almost stopped breathing, but Rowena wasn't done. She turned around, pulling her shirt down to reveal the scars that ran down her back.

"I got these because I was friends with you. Because I dared to have a single friend." She turned back to face him and he noticed her tears were wet with tears. "So don't tell me I had a choice or that you can take care of yourself or that I'm the cruel one."

She stared at him for a second before grabbing her things and storming off, grabbing the stack of notes the ringmaster had left for her.

Paz just felt numb. She was right. He didn't know anything about her. His best friend of nine years and he had no idea who she was. You know she's funny. That she's strong and brave and that she got hurt to protect you.

The smell of blood and sweat drifted after him out of the fighting pit as Paz ran after Rowena.

tag list - @i-eat-worlds

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

4

Seventh skull... that bodes well; everyone we've ever met from the Seventh is dead, and we are firmly in the realm of the living.

The plants filtered out some of the clinging smoke, and Nona loved to look at the trees and the bristly, curving shapes of the shrubs and bushes.

Me too, Nona. Sounds like you don't have a lot of plants there.

Another place had been cleared and ineptly concreted over, and they put the cages there. The cages were bone-cold and they’d been almost fully cleaned, but Nona didn’t like looking,

Cages... for what, Nona?? Or... for whom???

Then the teacher said, unexpectedly: “Hot Sauce is here too.” Not even the teacher knew Hot Sauce’s real name. Nona said, “That’s early.” “Yes. I asked her why, but she wouldn’t say. Check on her, won’t you?” As though Nona could check on Hot Sauce. “I’m worried about her, living alone. I’ve tried to tell her about the sheltered accommodation, but she’s too independent…”

We're finally getting to see Nona at school!

Honestly, I'm with the teacher on this one. As much as Hot Sauce is a leader and independent and all of that, she's also an orphan of like, fourteen.

Hot Sauce said, “Don’t let them see you from the window.” “Who’s watching?” “Don’t know. Green building. Fourth floor.” Nona was smart enough to catch herself getting up to look, which she privately congratulated herself upon.

Someone is watching. Hot Sauce doesn't think they're watching for Nona, but you can never be sure with these things. For all we know, the Emperor and/or Blood of Eden have lost track of Harrow's body and might very much like to get it back, no matter who is currently residing in it.

But Nona is so precious. I love her. She's so bright and full of love for plants and animals and people around her and herself. Have I mentioned that she's precious and that I love her?

Hot Sauce’s failure to ask anyone’s opinion on anything she did was probably the reason she was the unquestioned authority in the school, over and above the teachers. Nona had told Palamedes about it and Palamedes had said, Lead researcher material, certainly.

Lol, having worked in research, this is most certainly a diss against some kind of lead researcher Palamedes has worked with in the past. Maybe even himself.

She was a gallant little person of fortyish who gave the impression that she had learnt a lot early in life and discovered late that it was no real good to her or anyone else. This lent her teaching a weightless, secretive feeling, like it was really all for fun at the end of the day.

We meet "the Angel" for the first time properly, and this whole thing is a big mood. Same, Angel.

Nothing Pyrrha drank could really hurt her. She had even drunk the contents of the bleach bottle once. When Palamedes had asked why, Pyrrha said she had realised she wasn’t used to being tortured while immortal and wanted to get a head start, and Palamedes said bullshit because he thought Nona had not been listening. Nona wondered if the Angel had been drinking too, albeit not bleach, which had given Pyrrha some sensational hiccups.

Hold on. Pyrrha drank bleach?? Is she. Is she okay?

I mean, if you think about it, she's really not; she's stuck in Gideon the First's body, Gideon is dead, all Pyrrha's friends are dead, and she can't go back to the Emperor, and she can't go to the Blood of Eden, and she's here working her arse off for these kids, which is really what Nona and Cam and Palamedes are to her. Hard, thankless work day in day out, with very little idea of when this will end.

Oh, Pyrrha.

Everyone turned to look at Nona, who writhed beneath this judgement, and they agreed that she had not looked well for, like, weeks. “I do,” she said indignantly. “Look at my braids—I look wonderful,” which thankfully replaced their worry with a group effort to squash her vanity. They often took it in turns to squash Nona’s vanity, which never worked.

Good.

Anyway, she looks like Harrow, who's never looked particularly healthy in her life. Sorry to break it to you, Nona. She's in a Lyctor's body, which means very little can truly hurt her - I bet she could survive drinking bleach like Pyrrha - but if the other kids think she hasn't looked well in weeks, but she was looking better before then, is there something going on?

Even if they all assured her that she was nothing to write home about, she could say, “Who cares? I can’t write,” and then they had to switch tack and squash her for being proud that she was so goddamned stupid.

This is so fucking precious. Keep being proud of your dead-body looks and your above average stupidity, Nona. We love you.

Anyway, this kinda points to Nona's sickly looks just being general Harrow-ness.

The most interesting sight was someone lounging in an alleyway opposite the school building, sitting in a busted-up chair next to an overflowing bin, and Nona watched intently, trying to decide if they were dead or not. She decided not dead, because they were wearing quite a good jacket and faceguard and nobody was coming around surreptitiously trying to take either.

I'm sure this isn't of any importance whatsoever.

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Summer Love || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: big fluffy feels; i'm not responsible for any damage this does to your teeth enamel

Wordcount: 2171

Summary: Love is a song that never ends; one simple theme repeating Like the voice of a heavenly choir, love's sweet music f l o w s on NOW KISS AN: Sorry the fic writer can't come to the phone right now she's dead from her own fluff

-----------------------------------------------

The trees had traded their sweet smelling blossoms for thick green leaves, gently swaying in the soft breeze of a lazy summer afternoon. Having nowhere else to be but here, Kurt was enjoying the few beams of sunlight that made it through the thick canopy, the shade provided by the greenery just as pleasant. He was waiting for someone, tail immediately happily wagging as he saw a familiar mop of wine colored hair pop up in his peripheral vision. She had been wearing it in a ponytail for most of the day, but had taken the hair tie out and was still shaking out the tresses of her hair as she approached him.

"Hi, Kurt. What was so important I needed to meet you all the way out here for?"

"I figured you deserved a little get away after all the progress you've been making. You really seem to click with a lot of the new team; you're making friends. I'm proud of you."

"Eh," Miranda replied, still not fully over her habit of diminishing her own accomplishments, "they're a nice bunch, which helps a lot. A lot of them with similar feelings to mine; makes it easier to talk about it, yknow? Until the social battery drains, anyway."

Kurt nodded, lightly leaning back against a thick tree trunk and gesturing at her to join him. She did, mirroring his pose as she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of the afternoon.

"You're still introverted, after all," Kurt remarked, a small smile on his lips, "I don't think that'll ever change. You don't have to. I'm just glad to see you broaden your social circle. But I thought sharing a quiet afternoon together would be nice for you, after the game nights with my team and yours."

"Thank you," Miranda said softly, looking up at the canopy as it danced in the light breeze, "I wonder what it's like all the way up there. I would go look, but I haven't climbed into a tree since elementary school. I don’t think my body would appreciate the attempt."

She was suddenly very well aware that a set of eyes was watching her, to which she slightly turned her head to Kurt, some kind of mischievous emotion gleaming in his eyes.

"... What?"

"I can get you up there, if you want. Haven’t poked around in any trees lately, either; but it’s fun. I might just take you up on the offer."

Ah, right. He could bring her there in a heartbeat if she asked. She looked up for a moment longer, thinking if she really wanted that or not. He followed her gaze, looking between the leaves to conjure up a plan of getting up to one of the branches thick enough for two people to comfortably sit on.

"Just don't drop me."

"I won't," he assured, offering his hand for her to take. When she did, he pulled her close to himself, "hold on and don't let go until I say so, okay?"

"Okay."

As soon as he felt confident she was hanging on, he teleported both of them as far up as he could, hanging on to the absolute massive tree trunk and having a quick look around before beaming over to a big, sturdy looking branch that would indeed accommodate both of them. He helped her get comfortable on this tree branch first; setting her in between himself and the tree trunk before instinctively wrapping his tail around her waist twice as another safety precaution just in case she leaned too far backwards and lost her balance. She just lightly patted the tail as he sat down next to her.

"Well, if all else fails, guess I'm taking up bungee jumping."

He laughed softly, looking down and only seeing a few slivers of the ground as he did. They really were hidden away in an enormous sea of leaves in every possible hue of green.

"I don't think anyone can even see me up here; despite me usually standing out. This tree really did its best with all these leaves," he felt how she rested her head to his shoulder, quiet and gentle bliss between them as the tree had allowed them to hide away from the world for a little while.

"Hey," he started softly, "Gambit asked me to take over another training session. Given his nonsense last time I have half a heart to not take his word for it and let him sort something else out.

"Otherwise occupied?" Miranda asked, air quoting the words for emphasis to which Kurt gave a small hum of agreement with a hint of suspicion to it

"That's what he says, ja. I just wanted to talk to you about it first, before getting roped into his actions again."

"I mean, training with you is fun," Miranda quietly admitted, the hint of a blush tinting her cheeks, "besides, my footwork is still ass, I need all the help I can get with that."

"..... About that," now it was Kurt's turn to blush lightly, a very faint purple on his cheeks, "you sure you want those lessons from me? Last time seemed to overwhelm you with how close we had to be for it..."

She was suddenly painfully aware of how close they were right now, sitting upright as her heart skipped a beat.

"W-Well, I know what to expect now, it'll be fine!" it came out of her with a nervous laugh, to which he just raised an eyebrow, "it's just- Yeah, okay. You really caught me off guard the first time around. Not in a bad way, or anything, but that felt more like teaching me how to dance than teaching me footwork in fighting."

"The two do go hand in hand after all; as an extension of my gymnastic routines I took up tango. And ja, I've heard it all before. "Wow, really thought you'd be one for the waltz"- I know the waltz too. Tango is simply more fun and energetic," he watched as the blush on her face grew slightly more intense, "if you ever want to be taught either, let me know."

"Think you would get annoyed with my two left feet really fast."

"Doubt it; you trust me and don't mind following my lead. Everything else is just practice."

They sat there in silence for a bit, watching as a songbird flocked down on the branch as well and curiously observed them before fluttering of, singing a little tune the whole way it flew off

"... What actually happened in that last moment before you left?" Kurt then asked. It was something that hadn't left his mind ever since it happened, how quickly she tapped out and vanished from view when he had stopped her from falling to the ground. Her blush got worse, her invisibility flickering for a moment until she decided to make it stay off. Maybe it was a stupid thing to tell him, but it would haunt her forever if she didn't. He clearly wanted to know.

"... The thoughts on my mind freaked me out. You were so close my brain was convincing me that... that you could hear my heartbeat," she paused, the lump in her throat suddenly feeling incredibly heavy.  She just looked at him, wondering if what she was about to say would mean risk losing everything they had now. Rogue's words and implications sang around in her head, how she felt like they were actually a good match for each other. Keenly aware of the tail still wrapped around her waist, the warmth of him right next to her, Miranda debated for a moment longer on what to do before her brain agreed that taking this leap of faith to find where they really stood was better than wondering for years on end what might have been had she just told him. It was going to take every damn fiber of her bravery and her impulsion, but this felt like the only moment where she could actually tell him that-

"....... it made me want to kiss you."

Her voice was so soft, barely above a whisper as telling this made her feel incredibly vulnerable. As soon as he looked at her clearly surprised by this admission, she looked away, the blush on her face further intensifying as she flickered in and out of view again. Her power still had no idea what to do about the sensation of embarrassment, unable to decide whether that was enough to trigger her hide response or not.

"Why didn't you?"

Her eyes flicked back to him as she wanted to tell him how that seemed like kind of a ridiculous question, that of course she couldn't start randomly obeying her impulses like that with zero input from him; but her gaze got caught in his. Deep, glowing pools in hues of amber, gold and yellow that she could get lost in for hours if she only had the luxury to do so, reigniting the same desire she had spoken off. Her brain couldn’t keep up, the swirling vortex of the emotions he evoked in her too much to deal with to keep the filter on her mouth intact

"I-I wouldn't know how. This- All of this," she gestured at her own face as shades of red and pink were happily painting patches all over her cheeks, "never happened to me before, like, ever. To the point where I thought all those love songs people sing are just straight up bullshit, there's no way you can feel that way about someone, I didn't- never did, not until-"

She fell completely silent as he turned further to her and slowly placed a hand to her cheek, allowing her to simply melt into the touch and giving her a moment to breathe- quieting her mind as if entering the eye of a hurricane and enjoying the tranquility from it.

"Never?" he asked softly, and from the tone of his voice she could tell he wasn't judging her in the slightest, just looking for confirmation that he understood what she told him. She placed her hand over his, lightly nodding as she held his hand in place and tried to calm her still racing heart. Silence lingered between them for a while, pleasant and comforting yet with a spark of electricity, until he broke it.

"May I kiss you?"

She was convinced she stopped breathing for a moment, her voice completely giving up on her and rendering her speechless; she could only nod as answer to his question. He lightly moved his hand down to her jawline, running his thumb over her skin before gently pulling her in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It was sweet, chaste even; if she had never done anything like this before then he wasn’t going to rush her into anything more than a polite, gentle kiss like this.

Especially not when this apparently was already enough to hard crash her brain. As soon as he pulled back, he saw for a split second that the red hue on her face had fiercely deepened before her invisibility decided to finally take reign as she flickered out of view. He felt how she escaped his hand, and the weight of her head on his shoulder as she buried her face there the moment after.

"... That doesn't really work when I already know where you are, Süßer," and he really couldn't stop himself from laughing ever so slightly as a garbled, muffled response came from the invisible woman hiding against his shoulder. Another very muffled line came, and he still couldn't make out what she was saying

"I can't understand that, sorry,’ he felt her shift against him, in such a way she could actually vocalize properly instead of muffling herself completely in his shoulder while remaining out of view.

"Does this make us partners?" his heart simply melted at how softly she asked, voice tinged with worry at what his response was going to be, no doubt. Gauging where she exactly was from the weight against his shoulder and from how his tail was wrapped around her, he adjusted how he was sitting even more so he had the ability to put his arms around her.

"Do you want us to be?" he could feel her nod against his shoulder, "then partners it is."

"I'm... I know this is going to look ridiculous to anyone looking up, but, uhm, I'm gonna stay like this a little bit longer if you don’t mind. Just… G-give me a minute."

"It's okay. Take your time."

“…. W-when I do, could you- would you kiss me, again?”

“Ja. If you want me to.” He felt her nod again and mumble how she felt like her heart was going to give out, making him unable to keep a small laugh to himself; he simply found her adorable like this as his cheeks turned a much deeper shade of purple.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Wake Up Next to You

Waking up from a one night stand and you're definitely not in your own bed. You weren't even entirely sure who you went home with. Their face blurred in your mind but their touch most certainly was not.

Copperhead: You woke up to the feeling of short blonde spiked hair on your cheek and the weight of a body on top of you. You quickly learned this wasn't going to be an easy escape. The person stirred at your careful wriggling. Their arms pushed themselves up as they angled their face towards you. Your eyes widened when you recognised the face. This was Copperhead. One of Black Mask's assassins he had hired. Oh shit. You went home with Copperhead!? On top of that, since it wasn't your bed, it definitely had to be hers. Eyes half-lidded with a sleazy smirk, Copperhead lowered herself back down, trapping you with her body. "Oh look at that look of panic." She teased with a chuckle. "Don't you worry, precious. I only touched when you asked me to." You vaguely remembered that now that she mentioned it. You're never drinking again. You can't ever drink again if this is where you end up. Copperhead reached over for her phone and checked it before huffing. "It's not even eight-thirty.Go back to sleep, precious." She sent you a smirk. "Unless you want to do something else." Her tongue slithered out at you. "I can think of a few things I'd happily accommodate." As though to price a point, her head moved into your neck, planting slow kisses that made you shiver.

Black Mask: You woke up in what was possibly the comfiest bed you had ever lay in. You heard the flick of a lighter. You rolled over and immediately hit an arm. You looked up and your blood froze. There, unmasked but recognisable was Roman Sionis and you were in his bed. Smoke streamed from his mouth before he turned to you. A smirk formed. "Hey, doll." Your mouth went dry. This couldn't be happening. You moved to get up but Roman's free hand shot out and grasped your arm. At the same time you winced before looking down. Roman chuckled. "Did a number on ya, did I?" He was smug, pleased as though he had accomplished something. "Come on now, doll. Don't be shy.You and I got to know each other very well last night and you know I won't ask nicely. Get back in bed. Now." Roman stared you down, daring you to challenge him. A challenge you would not take as you lay back. "Good, you still listen." He winked. "Maybe you remember it's to your benefit." He said as he reached for you.

The Riddler: You woke to fingers lightly scratching your head along with the scratching of pen to paper. Your arm was wrapped around a naked torso. Your other hand tucked behind you. Your cheek was pressed against someone's side, just above the jutting of what you were certain was a hip bone. You moved your head slightly to look up to see you had the Riddler -of all people- locked in your hold. What made it worse was how content he seemed to be. He hadn't even noticed you were awake, too focused on the notepad in front of him. You struggled to stay awake.His hand in your hair lulled you back to sleep when you couldn't fight it anymore.

Two-Face: You woke up tucked under his chin, your face buried in his neck. Your legs tangled between his and it hardly seemed against your will as your arm was wrapped under his, holding him to you. You felt a very toned muscle of the man's shoulder but the texture was different. It was rough and almost leathery, certainly not like skin. You pulled back as much as you could before realising you'd be pushing against the hand on the back of your head but what you did see left you without question. You were in Two-Face's arms and practically tangled in him. You quickly returned to your original position but it seemed the damage was already done. "Go back to sleep. It's only been a couple of hours." He grumbled.Well...if he insisted, what choice did you really have? "Okay." You mumbled and heard him mutter something incoherently beyond the word 'gorgeous'.

Scarecrow: You awoke to the feeling of a fingertip lightly trailing along your wrist to your hand that rested on your stomach above the covers. A large hand delicately caressed your hand and that's when you caught side of brown hair in the corner of your eye. You turned your head to see Jonathan Crane. That was unexpected. He rested his head against the curve of your shoulder. "Did I wake you?" He asked quietly. "I couldn't help myself but admire your gentle touch. It makes for quite a welcome change." You were lost for words. His bright blue eyes met your gaze and he smiled slightly. Holding eye contact, Jonathan moved his head to press a gentle kiss to the tip of your shoulder.He seemed almost in awe. His arm snaked around your body pulled you close to him.

Victor Zsasz: You felt a head wedged into your neck as you stirred. As you tried to get up, you realised arms had you locked in. You heard an annoyed grumble of protest as the person nuzzled further into your neck. You tried again and were met with a groan. Your stomach dropped when he lifted his head and you were face to face with a sleep and irritated Victor Zsasz. "Can you not?" He sent you an accusing look. "I...I need to go to the bathroom." You tried. "Hold it." He grumbled before his head moved back into your neck. Victor planted a gentle kiss as though it would appease you to stay and much to your surprise, it did as you quickly abandoned the lie. You decided you could think about this later and muttered a "Fine." Victor nodded in both agreement and approval against your neck, already falling asleep.

[parkert01]

Gifts - Jim Hopper

You have always shown your love for people through gift giving and acts of service, the people at the station had really become your second family since moving to Hawkins on your own. They helped you and guided you while you struggled to accommodate to a new place on your own. When Flo got you the job as the chief's assistant, you were extremely grateful, when you had been there for a couple of months, you were told that the chief's birthday was coming up, so you decided to bake him a chocolate cake, it was a classic, easy to bake and you just happened to know it was his favourite. When his birthday did eventually come around and you presented the cake to him, he was very grateful, hugging you tight. 

Months went by, there was no special occasions but you decided to start baking cookies for the station, it was a good way to pass time on a weekend and the staff seemed to appreciate it. You always had a crush on Jim, although you were hiding it well because no one had any idea. You thought he appreciated the baking goods you brought to work until you heard him saying "She's so clingy, always bringing stuff in when no one has asked her to. It's annoying". 

You decided that if he felt like that, then you wouldn't bring any things in for him. The next week, you brought some chocolate chip cookies in for the team, handing them out in separate containers, the team were confused why you didn't take any to Jim but decided not to question it. You avoided him, ducking into corridors and empty rooms when you saw and heard him coming in your direction, only speaking to him when it was the last option. He didn't notice it at first but after time, he did start to. He started to get annoyed at it and questioned the team, asking them if they knew the reasons why you were ignoring him, they all shook their head and shrugged their shoulders. 

Jim had enough, he decided to end this awkward atmosphere once and for all. You just happened to be walking past his office, he decided to bite the bullet and dragged you into his office by your arm and promptly closing and locking the door after. He trapped you in with no room to escape as he stood and blocked the door.  

"Why are you ignoring me? What have I done wrong?" Jim said while staring at you. You shook your head, trying not to let the tears fall down your face. "You have been ignoring me for weeks and I am sick of it. If you don't like me, just say it!" Jim demanded. You let out a sob, and looked at the floor. Jim's face fell, he realised he made you cry, slowly walking towards you as you backed away from him until your back hit the wall. He pulled you into a hug, holding you tight as you sobbed into his chest. 

After a while you pulled away from his chest, looking up at him. "I heard what you said about me bringing gifts for the station, how it was clingy and annoying. I don't want to annoy you Jim, I like you too much. I decided it was the best to keep my distance from you. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry love, I didn't mean it. I was having a bad day and took it out on you, I promise I will do better, don't apologise, it wasn't your fault."

You nodded, hugged him, kissed his cheek and started walking towards the door. You felt his hand wrap around your arm as he pulled you back towards him. He leant against his desk so he was at the same level against you, you looked at him confused as you stood in between his legs. He leant down and kissed you, your heart felt it was coming out your chest. You smiled into the kiss and pulled away. He slowly opened his eyes and laughed.

"So you like me?" Jim said, you rolled your eyes, sighed and said "Shut up" as you leaned in and kissed him again, sighing happily when you felt him kiss you back, simultaneously pulling you in closer to him by your waist with one hand while his other hand went to your cheek deepening the kiss

[spite-and-waffles]

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A post shared by Candice Patton (@candicepatton)

I stan nobody but if I stan anyone I stan Candice Patton and her Iris West. The absolute hailstorm of racism, misogynoir, trauma and alienation this lady and her character has been subjected to from the get-go is unreal. And yet for nine whole years she breathed beauty and warmth and genuineness into her character, even when delivering the worst lines of dialogue she was made to say that she knew would cause huge backlash (apologies for linking Screen Rant. Broken clock etc.). She co-founded "Shethority" with her friends Maisie Richardson Sellers and Caity Lotz in the wake of the Kreisberg scandal. And she always put herself on the line to speak out and hold her bosses accountable as much as possible.

All this while her character was barely allowed to kiss her co-star onscreen, let alone act with the same casual sexuality of any other married TV couple in a 7pm slot, under the guise of The Flash being a "family show". My heart broke for how utterly worn down and traumatized she was by the end, because not only did Berlanti Studios or the CW not protect or accommodate their Black artists and those of colour, they're also known for subjecting them to racist, misogynistic harrassment and severe exploitation of even their white male talent. This woman wasn't allowed a Black hairdresser or makeup artist for eight seasons, was only allowed to show her natural hair on-screen after five years, and had to watch her black co-stars being sidelined, suppressed and subjected to all manner of indignity with little space to offer solidarity or speak out (I don't care if Berlanti hired them for Love, Simon, the way his fucking studio treated Keiynan Lonsdale was a crime). Even her co-star Grant Gustin only woke up and came to her defence against the online abuse hurled her way eight years in.

Berlanti has cultivated a wholly unearned reputation as an envelope-pusher for the gay community in the entertainment industry, while playing it so safe that the gay couples in his shows are barely allowed to make out– the same way they treat interracial couples with one white partner. His buddy Kreisberg finally met his downfall after sexually harrassing the female workers in his shows for four years, but Marc Guggenheim, Wendy Mericle and Geof Johns are also known racists and misogynists. Even after Stephen Amell's breakdown, Ruby Rose going public with her physical trauma, firing Superman and Lois's Black writer Nadria Tucker, numerous attempts by Black actresses to speak on their working conditions in the CW, and the consistent bald misogyny, ableism and racism of these shows' storylines, the white queers in fandom continue to valorize Berlanti. Now with the release of Red, White and Royal Blue on Amazon Prime in August, again using a Mexican director and characters of colour to use QPoC fans as a shield and buttress, Berlanti's stock is going to be even higher.

The Flash had the potential to be a truly great show, and Candice's Iris West a real foothold for Black actresses and interracial romances in the white-dominated TV entertainment industry. Instead it was just another opportunity for it to grind them to dust. Just like so many other Black women and WoC who try to lead the charge. But through it all, Ms. Patton held the line. Y'all never deserved her. I hope she gets to heal and move onto projects that value her and allow her her full range of voice and expression, that recognizes and rewards her incredible talent and work ethic.

Fuck Berlanti, fuck the CW and fuck DCtv.

[ladyazulina]

Linney's Campaign

Masterpost - Campaign Page

🌸 Spring 1 🌸

Weather: Stormy ⛈️

Previous Part: Let's not get drenched anymore, please

Who's this?

Word Count: 2.386.

It was not a complete failure, despite arriving in the middle of a storm. This person, whatever their name is, was somewhat slightly helpful, guiding me to someone, Orion, in the valley, who could provide me with more information regarding the letter.

I hope so, because the truth is that I don't have any more leads… Or maybe I do, though it’s only just one, but I would feel a thousand times more comfortable if I don't have to use it.

“Well,” I look up at the woman behind the counter, “the good news is that he will be arriving soon…” She opens and closes her hands, excited.

“He?”

“The better news,” she points at me while she walks out, “is that I have an assortment of hot beverages to help with your inside freezing,” she stops at the end, drumming her long-nailed fingers against the surface, “how does it sound?” She hums.

“Oh,” I blink. “That really does sound good,” I murmur.

Her smile widens and she makes an arm gesture behind me. There are only a bunch of tall tables and reclining chairs, so I really hope I’m not misunderstanding this and that she does want me to sit down.

I take a few steps back to do so in the nearest chair and she doesn’t seem particularly displeased. I accommodate myself just a tiny bit.

“What’s your poison? Hot cocoa? Tea?”

I can’t help but smile at the hint of her own species.

“Hot cocoa, please.”

“It won’t take long,” she smiles, going back again towards that hallway, carrying the folded towel with her, “please get comfortable and try to rest. You will warm up pretty soon!”

She disappears under the arch and it’s like she took with her all the assurance. Should I just be sitting here quietly while feeling this cold inside? Shouldn’t I stand up and move and jump and try to get back the warmth the storm stole from me? The magicked towels and the light spheres are helping a lot with the outside part, but is on the inside the danger.

After days of traveling, with each step carrying its own obstacle, I reached my destination only to end like a popsicle?

“I’m baaaaack~”

I look at the scorpionkin woman wide-eyed. Am I losing the passing of time already?!

She’s smiling broadly, with a small circular tray that only has one wooden-like mug with a few marshmallows decorating the top in the exact middle between her hands. I’m feeling a little warmer just looking at it, and I haven’t caught sight of the steam yet.

“Did you rush it?”

She leans in so I don’t have to move to take the mug. It’s so warm to the touch that I don’t think, I bring it against my chest, as if the warmth is going to go through me directly to my frozen core. The sweet scent of the spices –not all precisely sweet if I’m not mistaken– envelopes me in a cozy embrace.

“How do you believe that?” She laughs softly, waving a hand while taking down the other with the empty tray, moving it behind her back to hold it there. So professional. “I left some water boiling when I went inside before, so I just had to finish the drink,” she smiles.

I nod a bit, bringing the mug to my lips to take a sip. It’s not precisely hot, and it warms its way right where the magical external warmth can’t reach. I sigh, delighted.

“Good, right?” She chuckles, going back to leave the tray on the counter.

“Uh…” A sudden thought makes me wrinkle my nose. “I don’t want to ask, but… is this cocoa also magicked?”

She turns to face me, her whole corporal language changing. I can see the guilt all over her face, on her slumped shoulders, on the intertwined hands behind her back, on her brushing the tip of her foot against the floor, and even in the slightest lean of her tail towards one of her shoulders.

She did it. She magicked my cocoa.

“Just a tiny bit,” she brings two fingers so close that almost touch.

Is that why I find it so delicious?

“We use that mix sometimes in winter,” she’s quick to explain herself, “I had a bit still stored. It serves a lot to warm quickly, especially if the cold isn’t on the outside,” she plays with her fingers, her eyes down. “You said you were freezing inside, so I thought it would fit like a glove,” she finishes in a murmur.

I just smile, surprising even to me. I can’t say it didn’t help.

“Thank you,” I bring the mug closer to take another sip.

“Aren’t you mad?” She looks up at me, surprised, and I let her see my smile.

“Not at all,” I shake my head. “I would have loved if you told me beforehand, but you meant well and did great.”

“Oh, my Serket! I’m so glad!” She hops around, clapping.

“You have to promise me!” I raise my voice, stretching one hand to point at her. She stops in her track immediately. “That you will let me know beforehand in the future.”

“Done!” She goes back to hop.

“Say it!” I insist, already fighting my smile, taking the mug with both hands again.

“I promise!” She sounds excited and I want to laugh.

“Say all the words!”

“I promise to let you know beforehand if I plan to magic your things in the future!”

I sigh, feeling like I can finally rest against the chair.

“Good,” I murmur. “That’s good.”

I don’t know if it took just seconds, but my eyelids close on their own and I guess that I lose track of time.

I know I have been drinking one little sip at a time.

I know that since the first one, I started, slowly but surely, to regain my own warmth.

I know that I probably nodded off. I don’t know, I didn’t leave the scorpionkin woman taking care of her things behind the counter.

Why haven’t we exchanged pleasantries yet?

I know that- A thunder rumbles, loud enough to make me jump in the chair but so far enough to have passed above our heads, just before the door opens. Though I look down almost instantly, relieved at the fact that I didn’t spill even a drop of what’s left of the cocoa on myself.

“Are you here already?~” The scorpionkin woman comes out from behind the counter in rhythmic hops, absolutely delighted.

But I’m not looking at the person at the door, rubbing his shoes against the entrance rug. I’m looking that, behind him, isn’t raining. Until a second before he closes the door, when the torrential splashes with force.

“You called,” his voice is so grave and deep that I have to look at him.

Have I gone crazy already or his voice feels warm?

“As if you came every time I call,” she sounds upset now, with her hands on her hips, but somehow her voice is farther from where she’s standing.

That guy is a demon. With blue skin, some red in his eye, one horn going around the side of his head, pointing slightly to the side from below his pointy ear. His wavy black hair brushes his jaw, covering his other eye… and maybe the fact that something else is missing there. I don’t see the matching horn and, somehow, I don’t feel like is lacking.

His lips curve in a snarl and his brows furrow and there, just there I can be sure that that’s his resting expression.

He’s prepared for the weather with a hoodie, long pants, and boots, though I don’t see an umbrella or something similar, his gloved hands are empty. Of course he didn’t bring anything, the rain stopped when he was out there.

… It did?

“Sweetie?” I blink, looking at the scorpionkin woman leaning in front of me, almost completely blocking my view of the demon, who’s also looking at me but with a raised brow. “Are you still here with us?”

“What did you give her?” He asks, barely a few steps away from the door, crossing his arms.

“Just cocoa,” she doesn’t look at him, moving her head just a little in his direction, “with a few drops of Cozy Inside.”

“To a human?” I see him raising an eyebrow again.

“They can handle it,” she searches in my face, “it was just a tiny bit.”

“I don’t see her handling it well.”

“Them,” I murmur.

The scorpionkin woman’s face lights up.

“What did she say?” He leans forward, not coming any closer.

“‘They say’,” she corrects him with pleasure, looking at me with a brilliant smile. “They’re probably feeling a lot better now, and it wasn’t too much, it’s not that they’re not handling it well,” she straightens. “It’s just that they went through a lot, they’re decompressing.”

The demon makes a face. “Why did you call me?”

“What’s your name?” I finally ask. I think I’m processing everything just a bit slower than normal, but working at a snail’s pace.

“You’re right!” The woman brings her hands together. “We didn’t introduce ourselves! I’m Leif,” she leans a bit again, her tail straight behind her, “and I’m the innkeeper, though I think you already know that. What’s your name?” She holds her hands, leaning to the side.

The demon snaps his tongue.

“Linney…”

“Linney,” she stretches both palms facing upward, “it’s a total pleasure to be your acquaintance.”

“Do you have to be that weird?” He exhales.

“That guy over there,” she points at him without breaking our gaze, “is our lovely, overly-friendly, neighborhood demon, Chase.” She turns to face him, frowning. “They’re Linney.”

He frowns too. “What do I-“ but she didn’t wait for him to finish, coming back to me. “-care…” He snorts.

“Chase is here for two reasons,” she explains to me, raising two fingers before lowering one. “The first one is because he’s our greatest Weather magician,” she nods, proud as if she’s the one she’s talking about. “The second one,” she brings back the second finger, “is that, besides being our greatest Weather magician, he also has an empty couch,” she moves a hand.

“What?” He barks.

As if that settles it.

“They need a place to stay, Chase,” she looks at him, sounding tired, “and you know I don’t have more rooms. You’re the only one I can think of that can make sure they don’t get wetter and have a place to crash,” he’s about to retort, but she rushes it, “at least until the storm passes.”

He swallows his answer and I look down at the rest of my cocoa –with no traces of marshmallows since a while– before I can cross glances with any of them. The mug is still warm. Magic, of course. And I finish drinking it down.

“We can look for another place for them to stay when we can all meet. Good enough for you?”

“Not even close,” he shows his pointy teeth.

Is that a fang?

I look at Leif, but her face’s so far away I can’t make her expression.

“Do we have a deal?” She repeats, adamant.

He growls. “Fine!”

And she melts right there and then.

“Ow! I knew I can count on you!” She gets closer to take his arm, but he dodges her and shows her his teeth.

“Don’t! Go to sleep,” he points to the hallway.

I blink, getting up, and she comes back to take the mug from my hand. “Were you sleeping?”

“Oh,” she waves her free hand. “I wish. This storm has wrecked my schedule…”

“I didn’t know the scorpions were a nocturnal species,” I take off the towel.

“We are,” she smiles at me, taking it too. “Not all of us, but the vast majority. Mine is.”

“It’s good to know,” I smile back.

“Are we going or not?” Chase barks, making me jump.

I look at him turning to the door and opening it, so I rush to the table by the back wall, putting quickly the socks and making the spheres come out by turning the boots to also put them on.

“Don’t be a devil and wait for them!” Leif shouts after him.

I get up and put everything back into the bag, taking as much care as possible at the same time. He can’t get too far away… right?

“I’m sorry, that’s who I am!”

He sounds far away already!

I reach the door in three strides but look back at Leif.

“Thank you so much for your kindness.”

At least for a second, she seems at a loss for words, though she recovers quickly.

“Thank you for your company. And don’t mind him, he’s not that bad!”

I sigh, wishing to be able to believe her. “We will see about that…”

I get out, closing the door behind me, and surprise myself noticing that it’s not raining. Again. I look up at the cloudy sky, the sound of the storm not so far until I find it falling on the buildings on the other side of the arch.

Weather magic, Leif called it.

And Chase is using only a bit of it to make his way rainless.

Definitely convenient…

“How much more are you going to stay there?” I hear him, seeing him close to a statue, which seems to be the center of a square.

He shakes his head, turning to continue walking past it. And I jump when I feel a few drops falling on me, not even looking up before running to try to catch him.

Try My Best! #2 Goal: Get to know my host! Act with… wits (+3) Action dice (1d6): 5 (+3) Action Score: 8 Challenge dice (2d10): 4 (✅) + 8 (❌) Result: Weak hit - I succeed but lose track of time. If this brings me closer towards fulfilling a promise, mark 1 tick on it. Then, Time Passes.

Time Passes #1 Whenever I lose track of time, mark 1 tick on the current day in the calendar. If this tick does not fill the box, envision how time got away from your character. If you spent quality time with a Townie, gain 1 favor with them. Then, continue playing. +1 favor with Leif.

Tagging: @aziz-reads

[crimsonxe]

@tempestswing

As with the other person I'm doing this type of response to try to accommodate Sir Adamus's not wanting their notes filled with arguments and I don't know if Reblogs are part of that or not. So this is my solution:

I can't exactly say, I do so whenever someone says something that pulls my nerve that wants to push against bullshit/misinformation/or whatever. Anything I replied to was involving the thing being mentioned but likely is something I've already had a LOT of time to argue over before, since I've been following the show since the Red trailer and dealing with the same arguments over and over again.

Um yeah, my mentioning incels and whatnot is going to why he shouldn't be given anything more, cause Adam shitstains already act like its blasphemy that he was as he always was a piece of shit vs. their headcanon of him being some badass revolutionary. They latched onto Ice Queendom cause it chose to vague-ify certain things in regards to him that they took as proof that he was changed.

As for the sob story, um there's only so many directions that can be taken with a bastard like him. What was shown of him was perfectly fitting for the role he fit in the story.

My mentioning the self-defense and stalking aspects are in regards to your assertion that they should feel burdened or have a response to it. He was no different than a grimm attacking them or even WF that had attacked them in earlier volumes. I don't think they should've had some big dramatic moment over being forced into killing him given the context surrounding him including self-defense, stalking, and the trauma he'd inflicted on them. All of that going at your assertion.

You seem to think these things exist in a vacuum which they don't and there's a handful of reasons for them. You talk dismissively about Jaune's upgrade that falls more towards support role, than a warrior one. That falls into the "wanting Jaune to be a badass male lead" camp of thinking as well as just ignoring the utility of his grenades.

Um no Yang has had shotgun blasts, but not the missile whatever that came with v7's change up. If it were just the same-old, same they wouldn't have had the moment in 7x03 spent to focus in on her blowing up a Sentinel in the mine; because it'd just be the same everyone had already seen countless times. On top of that she actually has changed in her incorporating more kicks into her fighting and holding back using her semblance (which is a bit of a shame since I love her semblance when active but narrative).

a) all grimm are not being controlled by Salem, some are others are just wild roaming

b) they don't need to show nonstop grimm invasions that dips into Attack on Titan's edgelord bullshit, they've shown plenty of grimm that are legitimate threats and had the audience fill in the gaps

c) just the practicality on the animators to have to do said nonstop grimm fights that would inevitably take away from character development (cause you can say that 'they could just be put in during the fights' but no some really can't).

d) once again as a matter of reality humans are the biggest evil in any world.

e) at no point were the grimm ever presented as anything more than animalistic (in terms of acting like animals) creatures that at most could live long enough to learn stay away from humans. They weren't floated as the big bad nor did they even have that potential on a concept level. It'd be boring af to have "monster of the week" type of setup that has no true final bad at the end of them. Even Attack on Titan realized this as well as (d) and stopped with the animalistic-titans side of things. Because there needs to be a centralized figure that thinks and has a motive behind the mindless creatures.

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 7.3

“You want to get the girls, am I right?  I could teach you ways.”

do not get romance advice from a goblin

“All I’m saying is I could tell you ways to handle yourself that would turn the heads of hundreds of winsome and woesome dames.”

... turn their heads in what way, exactly?

“Then use my methods, and turn that one girl’s head hundreds of times.” “That kills the girl,” Gashwad whispered loudly. “Twists the head off.”

like I said

"I’m the best person here at understanding Nat, after Doglick chewed most of her tongue off, and understanding Alpy, and all that.  But as in so many things Practice-related, it comes at a price.” “Of sounding like a tryhard?” Lucy asked.

lol. But Verona is honestly very good at understanding Others. I wonder if that's linked to her intuition about the practice, or if she's just good at parsing communication in general? Also wondering if there will be a balance to it. Switching languages rapidly tends to mess up people's grammar, and some of this is a bigger stretch. I know that when I've been programming intently, especially with a lower-level language, I have trouble talking coherently for a while.

Culminating in Kennedy getting into her family’s car and everyone driving her off, leaving her on campus alone with Durocher.

that lesson on binding left an impact, huh. Scary teacher showing up in nightmares.

Until there were no escape routes, and the door was wide open, the sounds and screams from within too loud for Mccauleigh to hear Alexander’s voice. “Alexander was her way out?” Verona asked.

the youngest Hennigar not keen on being gore-streaked?

“A team captain?” Lucy suggested. “Yes, exactly!”

love Avery's enthusiasm for sports metaphors

“Yeah,” Lucy said, her voice soft.  “It’s why it’s so easy to fall into the trap of hating that man.  Bristow doesn’t budge and Alexander seems to accommodate, he invites you in, or puts himself in situations where you invite yourself in…”

I'm also worried about this. I wouldn't be surprised if this section of the story ends with Alexander stronger than ever.

The Other stood close to Gashwad, who snarled and hugged Snowdrop’s head, putting his body between her and the Other.

awww

Was it only three or so times that she had to fight to get away?  That John or Tashlit or Gashwad were stepping in to pry her free?  Two or three times that they plunged into darkness and she had to make that split second decision to either defend Snowdrop or get to the bricks before he got to the bird?  He varied it up, feinted.  She was running on instinct and adrenaline, fighting in the moment. Trying to survive, to preserve her friend.

Man, Avery keeps getting trapped in these kinds of life or death struggles in alternate arenas. Incredibly draining for her.

“You did good,” John said. The words felt weird.  She didn’t want to be in a situation where this was good.

situation was awful, she handled it really well. But there isn't really a sense of accomplishment in barely surviving.

Lucy was fussing with Avery’s hair, which had mud in it, and it was simultaneously the last bit of nitpickyness that Avery wanted to dwell on, and it was a bit zen, fingernails running against her scalp as a makeshift comb.

having hair finger-combed is very nice, do recommend

We’re making small talk?  Talking about regular stuff? After that?  Do you guys realize?

Avery's traumatic experiences tend to happen when she's alone, so there's less recognition from the others. At least with the Wolf they knew it was bad for her, but I don't think Lucy or Verona understand what the past fight was like for Avery, since from an outside perspective it didn't do much damage or last long.

Seems like most of the trauma here comes from having to be constantly moving and constantly alert, without room to improve the situation more than a little, just stuck in a deadly holding pattern. No room for error or relaxation, then being abruptly plunged back into the normal world with no adjustment period.

But Avery didn’t want to whine.  She wanted to look strong.  So she focused her attention on keeping her head up and being gentle with Snowdrop.

:|

“Regards, Lawrence T. Bristow, esquire.” Verona said, plucking her feather from her sleeve.  She ran the tip along the screen.  “What do you think?  Do you think we should pass his regards on to the brownies?”

hah! it's been a while since we've seen that quill

[strawberryblondebutch]

Pairing of choice/fandom of choice, intimate, life affirming bandaging of wounds

I am doing the annoying thing and picking my D&D character Rhaelara for this, both because I want to branch out who's getting their wounds patched up and also because she got her ass handed to her by a powerful vampire last session (seriously, she almost died about 4 times were it not for her companions), so her injuries have been on my mind.

The church was quiet, the only light coming from a few lit torches in their sconces. The sun never shone here; you differentiated day and night by whether the sky was gray or black. Rhaelara had managed to strip off her heavy armor before collapsing on the pew, cloak rolled up as a makeshift pillow. Without the chainmail, she could see the extent of the beating that she had taken. A bloom of blood stained the stomach of her shirt from where the vampire's claws had slashed her, and her arms were covered in bruises and slash marks. Her shoulder was sore from bracing her shield against the attacks.

Rhaelara lay on her back, one hand folded over her stomach wound, when she heard the sound of light footsteps approach. Ireena was limping, but still on her feet, which means she got out better than any of the rest of them. In one hand, she carried Bart's healing kit, emblazoned with the sigil of a god that neither of them worshipped.

"Hi." Rhae's mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She hadn't spoken much since the battle began, and when she did, she had to first cough up dust and bloody spit.

"Sit up."

"I told you, I'm fine." She just needed to sleep it off.

"Sure you are." Ireena smiled and sat down at the end of the pew, forcing Rhaelara to sit up slightly to accommodate them both. "That's going to get infected if you just leave it be," she said, pointing towards the gash across Rhae's stomach.

"And?"

"And I don't think you'll be much good in a battle if you're also battling filth fever."

Ireena knew better than to appeal to Rhaelara's own value. Instead, she targeted the only thing that the paladin would actually care about: the value that she provided to others. Grumbling something unintelligible, Rhae pulled her shirt up just enough to allow Ireena to look at the wound. She was met with a sharp hiss. "Anastrasya wasn't holding back."

"I didn't expect her to."

Ireena removed a rag from the bag, as well as a bottle of what looked like liquor. She took off the cap, placed the cloth over the bottle's opening, and tipped it over until the cloth was saturated. When the alcohol touched Rhaelara's open wound, she jumped. "Gah!" The pained sound echoed through the church, and she bit down on her hand to suppress it.

"My brave paladin. Stares down a vampire without a flinch, now felled by a mighty disinfectant."

"Hurts," Rhaelara mumbled. It was different. There was no rush of blood in her ears or pounding of her heart, no battle-focused tunnel vision. It was just her and Ireena in a place of emptiness and silence. Nowhere else for her to focus.

Ireena was methodical in her work, wiping the rag away from the source of each wound. She started with the largest claw marks before moving on to the other cuts, and as she did, she saw all manner of other wounds across Rhaelara's body. Some were thin and silvery, others puckered lacerations. "So many scars…" she cooed, her face nigh unreadable beneath the mountain of her auburn hair. "You don't treat your body very well."

"Better I should be hurt than the people I love." Because that had worked so well. Owain, Arwynn, Ez… all of them lost, and yet Rhaelara was still here. "It should have been me. Not Mother Lucia." She had sworn an oath: punish evil by any means necessary. If my foes wreak ruin on the world, it is because I failed to stop them. The priestess was rotting in some subterranean prison cell, awaiting execution, and Rhaelara was still standing. If all Strahd needed was a body, she should have given herself.

Ireena stopped, pulled the cloth away from the cut under Rhaelara's eye. She raised her hand -- she had doffed her leather gloves, and her skin was cool to the touch -- and cupped it underneath Rhaelara's cheek. The dark bruises forming along her cheeks highlighted the too-bright eyes and silver freckles that marked her as something not quite human. "Madam Eva told you that everything happens for a reason. If you're still here, it's because the gods and the Fates have some purpose left for you. Or…" Ireena's brown eyes had locked with Rhaelara's green, but they dropped suddenly as she stifled a laugh. "Or they know that I'm not ready to say goodbye to you."