#anyways no source shaming here‚ sometimes you just end up feeling Some Type of Way abt a kids character and that's ok

[aestherians]

Idk how coherent this is gonna be but I just wanna thank you for that essay and the term simile because it's literally the term I've been looking for since I entered the community. I have What I now recognise as a simile in the character Hissy from puppy-dog pals, and that relationship is what pushed me to research alterhumanity and eventually lead me to discovering identities I didn't even know I had. So, thanks for helping my describe my weird relationship with this cat from a preschool show

Glad to have been of help :'D

[bearpillowmonster]

11 Years Later: Tomb Raider

Featuring Leaping Lara

I forgot how fun it is to just jump up and get down as Lara because you can't run in this game so you find convenient ways to bounce around. I've heard all its accolades but I've never really cared to play it. Other than Legend and some of Shadow, I haven't cared much of what I played of this franchise and by the time I was interested enough to play this, its sequels were already out so I figured why bother but now I got it for free, so what're you gonna lose?

I even saw the movie based on it and wasn't a fan but luckily actually being in the moment and experiencing it is better than some of the sequences of the movie. And hey, the story's actually a little bit different here. It's a shame nobody modded in Alicia's face for it though.

It's a product of its time for sure. It wasn't as grey and dull as I had first witnessed through screencaps and videos, it's just a bit darker. Shaky cam shots, Lara using an old camcorder, that kind of stuff sets the time period.

Another complaint I have about this franchise is its need to make it about the end of the world but then I started thinking of its source material. Indiana Jones, in a way, kind of shows that, maybe not the whole world, but it never really seems that way to me when I'm watching it because that's never really his mission, it's just to get the artifact and put it in a museum. Maybe that's where this series goes awry sometimes is that it ties it in too much with Lara herself. "My mom was after this" "My dad was after this" "This villain is trying to get it." Maybe she's a hero, maybe she's not but I'd rather see it be a circumstantial decision that she makes when faced with it rather than chasing 'people' down to keep it out of their hands. The movie was about her dad, this one isn't, it starts off being about reviving an old tv show by discovering Himiko's tomb but quickly steeps when the ship crashes.

It's personal for Sam, who is related to Himiko in some way and gets kidnapped at every corner yet you barely even see her. I couldn't tell you much about her other than her first name. I could see if she was built up to be the childhood friend that she's made out to be even in the comics but it's just not there. They have notes and lore and stuff to collect and I read a few but it just wasn't interesting.

I knew this was considered Lara's beginnings with her first journey but I didn't realize that it's something for her character too. I'm not sure how to feel about it because it tries to make it seem as though she's never seen action and is more or less just playing with what she's read in books. A girl frightened and running around trying to find her friends to help her and get her out of this mess. Part of me would say that's logical but the other part would say that Lara wouldn't back down that easy, it's not an escape route for her, it's a journey and adventure. And the other part makes me argue what kind of training her father gave her to show whether she was ready for this or not, she even talks of it. It's done in a nicely cinematic tone though so I can't complain too much.

Wait…it's not her first journey according to the logs you pick up but it is on the wiki but it contradicts itself anyway because yeah, Lara is essentially everyone's hero as she's the survivor and all but it goes from "ooh, I'm a pity, I can't do this." to "I wish I was more like you." Yeah, she grew from it but I just wasn't feeling it.

Dialogue could use a punch but all in all, I wasn't impressed with its story either. Granted I'm not a fan of cult stuff as it's usually "It was a cult all along" type of thing when there's so many other things you could do with that but it actually starts out promising with a Bermuda Triangle ripoff with Himiko, the Queen, bringing ruin to those who dare enter but Lara remarks that myths are usually sourced from truth to some capacity and it's just a bunch of storms that gather around that area. They could've used that element to try and "prove" what's fact and what's fiction but it easily deviates back into the "Oh no, it was real after all, we should've never come here" thing. That only changes her character because if she's having such a horrible time here and only wants out, then why does she keep going on these expeditions afterwards?

In fact, they make that the ending, she's referring to her dad saying that stories are more than myth and says how she's finally come to believe him and after her horrific journey, she's not going home, she's jumping straight into another adventure to keep that adrenaline pumping. To a degree, I understand and like this pov with the way Shadow had her so engulfed in this game and infatuated with the things despite everyone telling her that they aren't real but she doesn't let go contrary to her initial opinion in this game. The way they framed that just could've been a little nicer. Like where did she look like she was having fun?

As far as gameplay they built on that dirt mechanic from Underworld, which I think got really good by the time Shadow came out and you were able to disguise yourself in mud. I was actually impressed with how much from Shadow was actually already in here. But the gameplay doesn't really stack up the same, nor should it really. It's had two games to build on that system and it did, it doesn't make it seem bare bones or anything but why settle?

The tombs are fun because they're a nice change of pace but they leave more to be desired, they seem more like things to introduce game physics but are totally optional and most don't have any baring on the core gameplay anyway, they're just puzzles when I feel like the puzzles should've been apart of that core to begin with. The set-pieces feel samey after a while because you do cross a plane but then it's another plane, then its a helicopter, which most of those make sense in the context of the story but then there's the water slides, and the buildings falling apart around you. It starts to seem like it's ripping itself off which surprises me how this was so well regarded when Uncharted was already out thrice with a better story.

It didn't age poorly but it definitely has some time related scars.

[snowywrites]

Yuri x popular Fem!reader

summary: fluffy fic in which the reader sees Yuri while working at a coffee shop and intends to be closer friends with her.

word count: 2.1k

"Y/N!"

You stop in your tracks, turning to scan the tables around you for the source of the voice; it was kind of familiar, and your eyes fall on a customer that's a regular here at the coffee shop. A young man around your age, usually here with his friends but alone today.

You had been about to go make another coffee for a different customer, but you force a service smile onto your face and hurry over to his table. "Hello!" You wrack your brain for a second to bring a name to this man- it wasn't easy keeping track of so many different people, and not just at your job! You also tried to keep tabs on the majority of your peers from school, too. Fortunately, it clicks a moment later. "Hatsumi, was everything alright?" You ask, noting he's already finished his pastry and drink.

Hatsumi grins, clearly pleased you had remembered him. Customers tended to get really happy over little things like that... if only they knew you did this with all of them. It was no secret you were one of the favorites here at the little shop, consistently getting better tips than many of your coworkers. "It was great!" He answers you brightly.

You nod and inquire politely, "Would you like me to go ahead and bring the bill out now?"

A moment of hesitation, and then, "Oh- uh, yes, thanks." He seems a bit disappointed, but you don't have time to dwell on it right now, not with how busy today's rush hour is. The only good thing is you're hopefully going to be getting off in about a half hour.

You assure him you'll be right back and then flit off to the counter to ring up the items he'd ordered and print the bill. As you're doing so, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Glancing up, you see your favorite coworker, a girl several years older than you. "Y/N," she begins, a bit of a pleading look in her eyes that means she's about to ask you for a favor.

Biting back a sigh, you push down whatever annoyance you have at being interrupted to look expectantly at her. "What's up?"

"Can we please switch tables really quickly?" She practically begs you.

Switching tables wasn't too terribly uncommon- sometimes when guests came in, the baristas would know them outside of work and might ask a coworker to deal with the order and anything else.

"Sure," you giggle, ever the people-pleaser. You had a reputation to keep, after all! You don't like to brag, but you do enjoy the fact that you have many different friends and are well-liked by just about everyone you know. "Who?"

She gives a hop of delight. "Can I take the bill to Hatsumi?"

You can't help but smirk mischievously. "Ohhhhh, I see."

She lightly smacks you on the arm, instantly blushing. "Nono, I just-"

You cut her off before she can defend herself, knowing the two of you don't really have the time to waste playing around. "It's no worries. And who's that order for?" You question as you point at the circular silver tray in her hands which is holding a cute polka-dotted cup of tea.

"Ah, this goes to table three, the girl with the purple hair."

You nod, exchanging the bill for the tray. You want to watch and see what will happen between your friend and Hatsumi, if anything, but when you look towards the designated table, already heading for it, you realize you recognize the girl sitting there.

You have no trouble recalling her name. One of the members of your Literature Club, Yuri...

You haven't actually been in the club all that long at all, maybe a week-ish, and you feel like you haven't had any time at all to get properly acquainted with Yuri. Part of you feels that it's a shame, because you get the sense she's a very interesting and sweet person beneath her quiet and distant shell. It's just hard when she's always reading, and even in the rare moments she's not, she doubts herself so much during conversations with you that it just ends up being a bit weird.

But not today! No, you're suddenly filled with a sense of determination to get closer to Yuri.

You consider playfully scaring her when you walk up, but ultimately decide against it; aside from being naturally timid anyway, she's also, as usual, reading, and doesn't seem aware of anything going on in the shop around her. So, yeah, best to use a more gentle approach.

"Hey, you," you say, putting all the friendliness in your voice as possible, stopping beside the table to greet her.

In spite of everything, Yuri still jumps a bit in her seat, violet gaze flashing up to you in alarm.

'So much for trying not to scare her,' you think unhappily. Pushing that thought away, you give her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, it's just me! Y/N. We're in the Literature Club together," you try to remind her, wondering with a pang of horror if she's actually forgotten who you are. That would be a first for you.

A second of silence, but at last Yuri's tense grip on her book loosens, and she glances down at it, avoiding making eye contact. "O-Oh, I'm sorry."

Another awkward beat of silence. This was what you meant!! It always went like this with Yuri, and you wished more than anything that you knew how to make her more comfortable around you. Hoping to carry the burden of saving this interaction, you laugh nervously, "It's no worries! But, you didn't forget me, did you?" As much as you're just trying to joke around, there really is a slight feeling of hurt that that may very well have been the case.

Yuri stiffens, quickly answering, "No, I- I didn't!" It's a rushed response, louder than you've ever heard her speak and yet still quieter than most people's normal speaking voice. As if embarrassed by her small outburst, she ducks her head to add quietly, "Uhm, that is- I just meant that... I wouldn't ever forget you, Y/N."

Oh. Talk about giving someone butterflies. You never knew what to expect with Yuri- sometimes she could never get her words out, but then other times she'd say something with such a deep meaning that it would catch you entirely off guard. What's odd though is you know for a fact how truly sincere she is; Yuri is the type of person that's much deeper than most people, and she wouldn't say something if she didn't really think or believe it.

"Thank you, Yuri," you say warmly, setting her tea down near her on the table. "Here you go! I like this kind, too." Truthfully, since you hadn't taken the order yourself or even made the drink, you weren't 100% sure what kind of tea this was, but you were willing to try anything to make Yuri more at ease. It also wasn't unheard of for you to make conversation with customers, even if it was busier than usual right now- for once though, you weren't aiming to make a good tip or secure a regular customer. You genuinely wanted to talk with her. "Hey, is that the same book you're reading at the club?" You question after catching a glimpse of the cover art.

She shakes her head, causing some of her bangs to fall into her face. Brushing them out of the way, she frowns and then nods. "W-Well, kind of. I finished that one yesterday... this is the sequel," she explains.

"It must be pretty good if you want to read the next part already," you comment. "What's it about?"

As predicted, Yuri noticeably perks up. "Oh, I think you would really enjoy it, Y/N. It's about-"

"Y/N!"

You flinch at the stern voice of your shift supervisor, who apparently hadn't realized Yuri was speaking when he cut her off.

You glance back to see him gesturing at you in clear annoyance, motioning to the line of guests waiting for their drinks to be made. You nod, signaling you'll be right over.

Focusing back on Yuri, you're unable to mask your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I've gotta get back to work. I'm supposed to be off in a little bit though."

Yuri seems to also be discouraged, apologizing for keeping you, even though you're the one who had intentionally kept the talk going. She bites her lip, and then, probably overtaken by a brief moment of courage, suggests, "When you get off, maybe then I could tell you about the books?"

You're stunned, but at the same time, this was precisely what you'd been hoping for! "Yes, sure! That sounds great. I'll see you then!" You chirp, hurrying away.

The last of your shift passes by rather quickly, and when it comes time to clock out, you actually have to tell your supervisor no, you can't stay another extra hour even if they are busy, because you have plans! Normally you would have, but not today.

You meet Yuri at the door and the two of you leave the coffee shop together. The sun is close to setting, but not quite there yet. "Thank you again, Yuri! I like spending time with you, I've just been a little busy lately," you say.

Yuri mumbles something you can't quite hear, but then adds more clearly, "I-I'm glad..."

"So," you begin, clasping your hands behind you and beaming at her. "About those books!"

That's all it takes for Yuri to dive into an explanation of the main plot points as the two of you walk side by side towards your home.

You're more than a bit tired from work and standing on your feet for so long, but it's nice to have company on the walk back, especially someone like Yuri. You hum and comment every so often, honestly thinking that they did sound like the sort of books you would enjoy. Full of fantasy and mystery and thrills... and of course, romance.

"So, the main character ditches his friend, who's been with him the whole time, for the new girl? And she's from the enemy's group?" You surmise.

Yuri hesitates. "I don't want to spoil anything for you if you're wanting to read them for yourself..."

"Such a tease," you sigh, pretending to be betrayed. "Oh, we're here- this is my house."

The two of you stop at the gate leading to the front yard of your home, and you're positive you aren't imagining the plaintive expression on Yuri's face. You didn't really want your time together to end either, but alas, you both have classes tomorrow.

"If- If you really would like, you can borrow the first book from me," offers Yuri. "And then... you'll see for yourself how it all goes."

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes, please! Thank you, that's really sweet of you! We can discuss it too after I'm finished reading it. I think I already know who my favorite character is going to be, though."

Yuri tilts her head curiously. "Who would that be?"

"Nope! It's a secret, for now." You pause, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Will you be okay walking home by yourself?"

Her violet eyes soften at your concern. "Yes, I don't live very far from here."

You find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye to Yuri, an uncertain quiet settling over the two of you, but she doesn't seem to find it awkward. "Okay, if you're sure. Do you mind giving me your phone number, though?"

She starts in surprise, a dusting of pink covering her cheeks. "U-Uhm- I- you-?"

"So you can text me when you get home," you quickly defend your reasoning, feeling a bit shy yourself at Yuri's reaction. She really was unique- most people tried to play it cool when asking for or giving numbers.

"R-Right," she stammers, reciting it off for you, and her phone buzzes at the quick text message you sent her so she would have your number.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, at the Literature Club," you finally say, already looking forward to it. "And don't forget to bring the book, please!"

Yuri steps back, her gaze on the ground but you still see her smile to herself. "Yes, I will. Bye, Y/N." She seems like she has something else she wants to say, but then she gives herself a shake and quickly turns away, her long hair twirling to follow her.

You watch her go until you can't see her anymore, partly due to wanting to make sure she was safe.

You couldn't help but admire her for her intelligence and beauty, even if she seemed to admire your social skills in return. Hopefully this was the start of a very deep relationship with Yuri.

[hurting-fictional-people]

Day two

Just a quick disclaimer: I tried to read about blood loss and stuff to make this as accurate as possible but in the end, the real scientific and completely medically precise source used to describe how Noah feels is how bad I feel after drawing blood when I can’t eat beforehand. So just ignore the medical inaccuracies please hsdjfhj

CW: lab whump, medical setting, needles, drawing blood, manhandling, restraints, muzzle

Previous

“Mr. Reeve, the doctor has requested you.”

It was weird how, sometimes, words felt physical. Noah was sitting on the bed one moment, trying to talk to his roommate – who kept dodging his questions –, and in the next, he was up and backing away to the wall farthest from the door and the guards waiting there, hands raised in surrender as a shiver ran through his body.

Even though he could hear his heart racing and feel his stomach churning, Noah grinned at the guards and crooned “You can go and tell dear dr. Carver to shove his request up his– “

Before he could finish, three guards hovered over him. Unforgiving hands grabbed his arms and hauled him out of the room, jerking in the tight grip.

Maverick, who had kept mostly to himself as Noah tried to get him to spill out everything he knew about the facility, stood up with a frown and called his name, but Noah was left guessing what he was about to say as the doors locked them each in one side.

He thrashed and kicked for half of the way before giving up.

“Fine, I’ll stop fighting, you guys can let me go. I’ll lose my arms if you keep cutting off my circulation like this.”

As soon as the hands left his arms, though, Noah darted forward. The hallways were endless and identical, but he would never forgive himself if he didn’t at least try to leave.

Noah didn’t even get to the corner before he was thrown to the ground face-first, avoiding breaking his nose by turning his head in the last possible second, hands held behind him and a knee on his back. A high-pitched yelp escaped his lips as the guard barked at his ear, “done with the antics, kid?”

He nodded against the cold tile. The man pulled him up but didn’t let go of his arms, still painfully twisted behind his back. Noah groaned, but didn’t bother complaining – he knew he wouldn’t be heard anyway.

Noah tried his best not to think of where he was going or what might be awaiting him, but when they stopped in front of sliding metal doors, he was already trembling. One of the guards typed something on a keyboard by the door, and as it opened, Noah had to lock his knees to keep them from bucking.

He stood before a wide lab, eyes darting between trays filled with needles, flasks, and sharp objects he didn’t know the name of but filled him with unease either way; cabinets he was sure held more of the frightening instruments; and the metal table, right in the middle of it all, surrounded by restraints.

He swallowed audibly and started to back away instinctively, earning a growl from a guard and an annoyed shove forward.

Dr. Carver looked up at him from where he rummaged through a cabinet and straightened up, smiling at the false bravado Noah was trying to pull.

“Noah! How nice of you to join us,” the doctor cooed, giving him a wink. Noah wished to have his hands free so he could punch that fucking wink out of that smug face. “On the table, please.”

“If your henchmen stop trying to dislocate my shoulder,” he hissed, writhing against the hands holding him.

The doctor only tilted his head to the side and admired the scene as the guards pushed him down on the table and buckled restraints around his ankles, his wrists, his chest, his hips. Noah swore through gritted teeth, loudly and profusely enough to feel burning glares from the nurses and other doctors strolling around the lab, casually ignoring him until then.

“Language, kid,” Dr. Carver chastised.

“Fuck you, you crazy fucking psycho, sadistic creep,” Noah grunted.

“Quit insulting me, Noah, it won’t do you any good.”

“I wasn’t insulting you, asshole, I was describing you,” he replied, pushing against the restraints and finding no give.

He expected annoyance at least, fury at best in response to his retort. Instead, he was met with an amused smile.

“Did you know we’re recording every test and experiment?” the doctor said softly, towering over Noah’s defenseless figure. “I’m going to take great pleasure in watching this later, once I’ve taught you how to behave properly.”

“We’ll see about that, doc,” Noah smirked, hoping it would conceal the dread pooling in his stomach.

“This is one of the wild ones, huh? We’ll see how long It lasts,” someone muttered behind him, earning low chuckles from faceless people. Suddenly it was too hard to keep up the fearless facade as helplessness fell over him like a thick blanket, stealing his breath away. They talked about Noah like he was a zoo animal – locked up against his will, just a helpless and unwilling entertainment. A lab rat. It was hard not to feel like it.

“Are you done being a brat?” Dr. Carver asked, dragging a stool and a metal tray on wheels next to Noah. “Let us begin, then.”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he shouted, but no one listened.

Noah trashed as hard as he could, but all he could do was scratch his skin against the harsh material strapping him to the table.

“I’m not doing anything yet, kid. Hold still or this is going to be a lot more painful than it has to,” Carver warned with a look a parent might give a disobedient child.

Noah only thrashed harder.

Hands came from everywhere, grabbing his body all at the same time. A tourniquet was tied to his arm way too tightly, a cotton-tipped swab stuck up his nose so high it burned and made his eyes water. Before he could do as much as take a breath, a needle was stabbed into his vein so harshly and abruptly he couldn’t help by cry out.

“I told you to hold still,” dr. Carver said in a sing-song voice that got Noah clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

As people continued to poke and prod him, Noah searched for the small black circle of a camera, finding one in each corner of the room. Staring straight at the closest one, he screamed “I want this to stop now! I do not allow my body or my image to be used in this experiment! They are keeping me captive and using me against my will!”

When he finished, shaky hands, gasping breath and raw voice, a chuckle filled the room.

“Cute,” Dr. Carver commented, patting his hand. He didn’t get a chance to scratch the man before he took the hand away. “But the recordings are mine and are never going to be seen by anyone else. Nice try, though.”

He would have replied, weren’t for the harsh hands suddenly holding his head still. Noah tried to bite and scream, but he was truly helpless to stop them when a piece of metal was shoved inside his mouth, keeping his tongue uncomfortably pressed to his palate, his jaw unable to fully close or open, and someone held his head up as another buckled straps behind it.

A muzzle.

They muzzled him.

Noah stared at dr. Carver with wide, betrayed eyes. The man simply giggled and continued to fill a bag with his blood. He tried to force his jaw open, to say something, anything, but the muzzle was strapped tight, and all he could produce was a pitiful whine. Shame filled him to the brim, making his cheeks burn.

“Don’t worry kid, this is just so you stop screaming and don’t give us a headache since we’re going to be here for a while,” the doctor said in a tranquilizing voice. “We’ll take it out once we’re done.”

He looked at Noah expectantly, as if waiting for a response, his smile wrapped in just the right amount of mockery to make Noah seethe.

With even his words taken away, Noah let his body sag on the table, eyes closed to keep the tears from falling as the doctors went on.

They took X-rays, ultrasounds, and countless tests no one cared to tell him the name of or what they were for. His body was handled by precise, impersonal hands, moving him slightly when needed, like a puppet being rearranged on stage. Like an object, made to be played with. Whenever he had the chance, Noah writhed as best as he could just to annoy the doctors, but the satisfaction it earned him was quickly muddled by the pain when they tightened the restraints so hard his extremities started to tingle.

It wasn’t the pain he was scared of. He had agreed on participating in the experiment before he knew it was actually a prison, knowing it would probably include some degree of pain. It was the lack of freedom that made him sick to his stomach with panic. The loss of his free will, which he had fought so hard to conquer, now being taken away in the blink of an eye. It hurt more than anything those so-called doctors could do to him.

And so, it hurt inside and out, as strangers with apathetic eyes used his body as if there was no one inside, whimpering softly and hoping that dreadful day could just come to an end.

-

After what felt like forever, when Noah was already dizzy and weak from all the blood they’d taken – why did they need two blood bags and that many tubes, anyway? –, dr. Carver smiled sweetly and shook his shoulder to get him out of the sleepy daze he didn’t realize he was in.

“We’re all done here, kid. I’d say you did good, but you really didn’t. You also lost quite a bit of blood and haven’t eaten anything, so I’d recommend resting and eating whatever we send to your room unless you want to be back here sooner rather than later. Hopefully next time you’ll behave better, and we won’t have to use the muzzle or the restraints, huh?”

His head was lifted, the muzzle taken away, leaving his jaw aching and his pride scattered somewhere along the floor, replaced by anger and embarrassment.

“Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t tie me down just to see me struggling, doc. I can see it in your eyes,” he said, working his jaw to try and alleviate the ache.

“You’ll be so cute when you learn to keep your mouth shut, Noah,” Carver sighed, not looking at all as annoyed as his words might’ve suggested. Actually, he sounded more entertained than anything.

With an indifferent nod to someone Noah couldn’t see, the doctor patted his cheek patronizingly and turned away.

A part of Noah felt the impulse of provoking the man one last time, just to try and get a reaction out of him, but the rest just wanted to curl up and sleep, forget that this day ever existed. So, when the guards surrounded him, unbuckling the restraints with maddening slowness, Noah just laid there and waited, too worn out to do or say anything.

The walk back to the room looked more like two grown men dragging a rag doll through disturbing hallways, but Noah was so faint and defeated that he just sank in their grip and stumbled across the cold floors.

He didn’t even realize they were already in front of his cell until the guards let go of his arms and shoved him inside. The ground approached quickly as his knees bent with the sudden push, but instead of being met with chilly tile and pain, he was enveloped by warm arms and a comforting presence holding all his weight.

“Thanks,” he murmured as Maverick helped him straighten up before staggering toward the bed.

“You are either the most intriguing subject they ever got their hands on, or you really pissed someone off if they left you like this on your second day here,” Maverick remarked, sitting on his own bed across Noah’s.

“I don’t think Carver likes being called a crazy fucking psycho,” Noah said in as smug a tone as he could muster, “or a sadistic creep.”

Maverick pursed his lips, but a snorted laugh was quick to escape them. He shook his head slowly, laughing audible for a moment before forcing his mouth back shut and replacing the softness the laughter had spread across his face with a slight frown. “Bold. But you shouldn’t do that, Noah. The sooner you stop resisting, the less they’ll actively hurt you.”

“They are keeping me captive; they are hurting me either way.”

Maverick glared at him, jaw pressed tight. “You are hardly escaping. It’s better to comply and accept the mercy you can have than fight for a lost cause.”

“The day I stop fighting, Maverick, is the day my fucking soul dies. If I comply, then I give up and I am never doing that. And you know what? You shouldn’t either – if you let them convince you that you can’t escape, then you really won’t.”

The words fell out of his mouth in a stumbling croak, his tongue feeling weird and sore inside his mouth. Even so, Noah would’ve kept going if the other man hadn’t turned his face away, brows furrowed and gaze furious. He would’ve been sorry for scolding him, but Noah truly meant what he’d said.

“Hey, how long have you been here?” it was hard to keep a lighthearted tone when he felt absolutely miserable, but Noah forced himself to roll to his side and swallow down the nausea and the humiliation that seemed to have stuck to him.

“I don’t know, they don’t let us keep track of time,” was the low answer, a hint of sadness tinging every word. “You have to make peace with what you’re living now, Noah. I’ve been here for longer, and I can tell you for sure: people don’t leave this place. The only thing we can do is hope that today doesn’t hurt as badly as yesterday.”

Helplessness emanated from Maverick as the words left his mouth. Noah’s roommate had clearly been through a lot more than he had, and he knew that arguing would render him nothing. So Noah kept his mouth shut and silently promised himself he would prove Maverick wrong. 

“Are you okay?” Maverick asked suddenly.

“Yeah, why?” 

It was a flat out lie. Noah’s body felt feeble and strained after so many hours held in the same position, his head hurt, and he feared he might start crying anytime.

“You are so pale your lips have disappeared.”

Noah pouted, trying to see his colorless lips.

“Damn, I can’t believe I’m already making a bad impression. Wanted to look nice at least on the first few days, you know?” he mumbled, the instinct to joke and hide his vulnerability taking over.

“You look like a very handsome ghost, don’t worry.”

Noah managed to crack out a smile as Maverick stared so intensely at his face, he feared he was looking at his soul.

“I think you’ll be okay, you just need to eat something and rest for a bit,” his roommate finally stated, glancing at the box attached to the wall from where the meals came in. “I’ll keep watch for when they deliver some food. You should sleep for now, I know you didn’t last night. Tell me if you start feeling worse or if anything changes, alright?”

Noah nodded once before curling up and closing his eyes. Strangely enough, he quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, too exhausted to even think about how he could still feel the muzzle pressed against his face. For once, he just laid there and let himself be lulled by the warm presence watching over him, knowing he wasn’t alone after such a terrible day.

When Noah woke up, he was alone in the cell, Maverick’s absence feeling like a weight on his stomach. This time the unease he felt looking around had nothing to do with blood loss.

Next

[ashrel]

Qiuyue - Voicelines

Hello: Hello, mortal. I am Qiuyue. Zhongli sent you to fetch me? Tell the old man that if he wants me there, he can do it himself. I am no adeptus, to come and go at his whim like so. Next time he does this, he’s going to find a scorpion in his bed. You want to know my full title? Fine. I am Qiuyue, the Hu Li Shen. You need not know the rest. Is this satisfactory? Good. Run along now, I have much more important business to attend to.

Favorite Food: You want to know my favorite food? Well… I am partial to candied walnuts. Why do you wish to know? You’ve never heard of them? Well, that is to be expected. They are a Liyue-only delicacy, as far as I’m concerned. I’m quite busy now, some fools seem to be causing trouble at one of my shrines. If you need anything else, go ask one of my retainers. Now, leave.

Least Favorite Food: Least favorite food? Why would you need to know that? Well, if you insist. I have lived centuries here in Teyvat, and sampled many types of food. I’d have to say my least favorite are those fruits called grapes. I believe they originated in Natlan, which I’d wager is why you haven’t heard of them, only having been to Mondstadt and Liyue. Anyways, if you come across them, please don’t feed them to any of my subjects. They’re highly poisonous. Oh, wipe that look off your face! They’re only poisonous to the fox species, not you mortals! Hobbies: Oh, you want to know my hobbies? I do enjoy a good prank from time to time. If you see him, ask the old man about what I’ve done. He turns pale and won’t speak for a couple hours, which is a refreshing thing. I enjoy it very much. He needs a reminder now and then that Liyue is not all business. Playing with him like this forces it into his thick skull that there are other things to be had in Liyue.

When it rains: Gah, this stupid rain! It leaves my coat thick with water until I can dry myself off! That stupid old man is taking revenge for that time I left that bucket of water on the doorway! When it snows: Oh, seeing these piles of snow reminds me of a fantastic time I had with the old man. He had invited intruders into my domain, promising tall tales of showing them the inside of the Autumn Palace without my permission. I had let some snow in, for the foxes love it. And as the perfect revenge, I decided to tackle the old man into a tall snow pile, leaving him soaked in snow in front of those guests! They ended up leaving the very same day, for the indignity of mine was a shame to behold.

When the sun is out: Oh, what a glorious day! I would do nothing but bask in these golden rays of the sun, if only my duties would allow for it.

When the wind is blowing: Ack! I got a piece of hair in my mouth, it’s fine. When I see that old man again, I’ll see how he likes having his hair cut off! Good morning: This is quite a fine morning, is it not? I seem more formal? I apologize, the mornings seep through the cracks and take hold sometimes. Good afternoon: You seem tired, would you like me to perk you up with another story of the old man? Why there’s this one I know of, long before the archon war, of him and Guizhong. Just… don’t tell him I told you this, alright? Guizhong is still a festering wound. Good evening: At this time of night, you can see all the stars in the sky. It must remind you of home, right? It does for me...

Good night: I must be getting back to the Autumn Palace now, who knows what sort of trouble the foxes have gotten into without my gaze upon them. Take care.

About Qiuyue - Godhood: You want to know what it is like to be a god? Why, you yourself aren’t that far off, are you not? We gods are not untouchable beings, we can still die, just like you. As an outlander, you must have seen your fair share of beings calling themselves gods, who were not quite there. But as for me it is… lonely, but rewarding. I do find myself seeking company from time to time, only to watch mere years pass, and them to wither and die. However, I myself do not think I would give up my godhood, if only for the fact that I am quite used to it. It has many disadvantages, and many benefits. It is up to you to decide if it is worth it. Is that not how most things are, though? About Qiuyue - Autumn Palace: You question me about my domain? I’m afraid you will never see its insides. No mortal is allowed inside, and no immortal without my permission. At least, no mortal still alive has seen the inside. Ominous? Why, I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean!

About Qiuyue - Human Form: Oh, you’ve only ever seen me in this form, correct? Strange. I know you know of my main form, the nine-tailed fox, for it is the one depicted in temples. This human one, however, is more for the benefit of the mortals around us. It comforts them to see me as one of them, no matter how strange that sentiment is. I do find myself liking this particular human form the most, however. I suppose it seems odd to you.

About Qiuyue - Title: You wish to keep pestering me about my full title? You know, most mortals who continued down this route ended up as statues in my domain, reduced to decoration. ...I do admire this tenacity, however. I suppose, just this once, I’ll entertain you. I am most commonly known as Qiuyue, and the Hu Li Shen, as you know. However, my main domain is Deception, just as Zhongli’s is contracts. I am the Fox God, One-Who-Betrays-and-Lies, and the God-Who-Wanders. Although that last title isn’t as true now, as it. Zhongli offered me a residence, a shared portion of Liyue, and I couldn’t find it within myself to refuse.

About Ningguang: Ningguang.. The Tianquan is very interesting. I find myself impressed with her, I’ll admit. To pull herself up to a position so high is quite an achievement. Even Zhongli was an old god before his position of power in Liyue. She has an odd fascination with me, going so far as to credit part of her abilities to my power. I have given her omens, as the foxes seem quite taken with her, but it was her skill that allowed her to build her career.

About Zhongli: Zhongli… simply saying the name feels wrong. I much prefer to call him by the title of ‘Old Man’ if I must refer to him in conversation. I do see why I must address him in this fashion, as to the rest of Liyue Morax is dead. However, I do feel his decision lacked foresight. What will he do, when he never grows old alongside his peers? If he travels, eventually, he will have visited every village, and then where will he go? He will become a myth, an immortal wandering figure shrouded in legend. I doubt he wishes for that, if he wants to lead a mortal life. Maybe these are the consequences of such tumultuous times in Liyue... About Venti: Ah, the bard. He is quite a fun person, no? I do enjoy the moments I spend with him, even if our meetings are far and few. Sometimes he will join me for a good laugh over the topic of the old man. Zhongli often protests that although he looks older, Venti and I are just as old, if not older. We pretend not to hear, even if he knows we have. It makes for quite the entertainment. I do think that the bard could stand to be a little more responsible - stop rolling your eyes at me, I do realize I’m being a little bit of a hypocrite. I’ll admit, living for so long in Zhongli’s domain has done something to improve how I behave, particularly seeing as I do have responsibilities to my worshippers. Venti, however, takes and takes, never truly giving back until you arrived. I wonder when it’ll catch up to him. About Levin: Levin is… I wouldn’t dare call him close to me, that’s only asking for trouble as it is. I do find him quite amusing, however. He doesn’t seem to recognize me as who I am, even though the name Qiuyue is one steeped in history, synonymous with the title of Hu Li Shen. It makes for quite the fun conversations when we stop to talk, for the Liyueans do recognize me. Hopefully, he’ll continue to be a source of entertainment. The moment he oversteps his boundaries, however… it would be quite the nuisance to rid themselves of him, but if it must be done, it must be done.

(For context: Levin is my friend's genshin OC.)

About Ganyu: That is Ningguang’s secretary, correct? I see… she is of adeptus descent, and yet she seems to not fully resonate with it. It is a wonder she can keep up with Ningguang’s workload, however, and I do commend her for it. I don’t think I have quite enough experiences with her to form a judgement, but I do trust in Ningguang’s judgement. Once she becomes curious in adepti affairs, I should keep a closer eye on her. Remind me to do so. About Keqing: I do respect Keqing’s opinions on her Archon. They’re a breath of fresh air in Liyue, where the people seem to be mindless sheep. Although, from what I’ve heard about the aftermath of the battle with Osial, they seem to be forming their own opinions as well. Their archon’s death must have really released the fog around their eyes. She seems like one to keep a close eye on, for she is not hesitant in her words about the adepti and gods, although they earn her scorn. About Yanfei: She is a most renowned lawyer in Liyue. Her disposition doesn’t seem quite serious enough for a lawyer, yet she shoulders through. It’s almost a conundrum, the way I see it. She reminds me quite a lot of my own foxes. Sly, clever, but behind a cover of mischief and playfulness. Have you seen her in action with her vision? No wonder Murata granted her it - her passion burns as bright as the flames she wields.

About Baal: The Raiden Shogun… she has certainly changed. I do not concern myself with the affairs of most gods, and yet, she seems to be causing quite the stir within the immortal court. It would be concerning, but I have not yet received any personal disturbance against my domain, so I shall not interfere. Perhaps this is what Zhongli meant when he said that the archons are changing, and Teyvat will soon enter a new period.

About Hu Tao: Hu Tao is quite the fun person! I do visit Zhongli at his work often, so it is natural I’d become acquainted with his newfound ‘boss’. She seems to take inspiration from a number of things, choosing to continue on with her business although it has taken quite the hit to it’s reputation with her eccentric style of advertising. She helps the old man loosen up and enjoy life, and for that I do appreciate her work.

About Xiao: He is quite the unusual adepti. Bound under a contract that limits his suffering, but also his freedom. I did not get to witness his beginnings, and have yet to see what made Mora- Zhongli take him under his wing, but I suppose I must, for once, exercise my patience. Forgive me for the slip in name, it has been difficult adjusting to Zhongli’s new identity. Ah, what’s that look for? I do promise that I am not harboring any other motives for a simple slip in name-

About Vision: A vision? I do not harbor one, why would you ask? I am a god, I have my own special set of skills. After all, visions are for mortals who have been given a chance to ascend to Celestia, and by proxy, godhood. I have no need for one.

More about Qiuyue I: I do one day, wish to explore beyond my self-imposed confines of Liyue. It is almost embarrassing to admit this, but I fear for what awaits me on the horizon of adventure. Silly, isn’t it?

More about Qiuyue II: For one who knows nothing about Teyvat, I’m surprised you haven’t hear it before. An unspoken taboo against killing foxes. You now know why, don’t you? As a fox god, I have a sacred duty to protect my own domain. You’re quite lucky to not have killed any. Some travelers have not been quite as blessed in luck, and have ended up very fine statues.

Qiuyue’s troubles: Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Well, actually… hey, I promise I won’t make you go on any quests. But it is… annoying, that the old man decided to retire with no prior warning on my part. Now all of Liyue is looking at me as their next Archon, and I have no wish for that. I’m content with leaving them in the hands of someone else, and staying as a minor god in Liyue’s territory. Why won’t they understand that?

Qiuyue’s birthday letter: Today I ventured outside of Liyue, back to Mondstadt. It was refreshing to see old friends again, and I should have done it sooner. I took the liberty of introducing one of my oldest friends to my specialty food, but he disagreed with its taste. The audacity! We ended up playing in the woods together, and I might have done a little damage. No worries, he can fix it! Hopefully… Anyways, have the rest of the food! I thought you might like it.

Received: Candied Walnuts x1, Dandelion Seeds x10. Traveler’s Birthday: Happy Birthday Traveler. I suppose it must mean little to you, as an immortal being like me. The years weigh heavy on a soul who has spent many millennia traveling, only to be tied down with loss. Maybe by your next birthday, I’ll have met your sister. I’m sure she will be just as much of an enigma as you are. To a continued year of existence.

[wsgeon]

hey everyone! ummm this is peyton (also the mun of lee hyeon) taking a second shot at a second character — i have a lot of muse for this one, so i swear he’ll be around for a while… 🥵 this is ryu geon, yes his name rhymes with hyeon’s & no i do not care ♥️ he’s the lead guitarist/vocalist of meta and also the son of a former nobody rockstar, but i’ll get into all that below! like this post if you’d like for me to come into your ims to plot, click the read more for more info on geon, and/or click here to be taken to his pages: CAREER, DOSSIER, PINTEREST.

HISTORY.

born in autumn ‘97 to a “budding rockstar” (translation: “no yeah i swear our band’s really starting to take off, we sold twenty-three tickets to our last show!”) & a woman with commitment issues ♥️ geon’s dad always told him that his mom left because she had some dire matters that needed to be taken care of and SWORE that she cried the last time she held her dear baby boy, but all of his dad’s bandmates say that she was just some groupie and had to be persuaded into carrying her child to term… who can say for sure?

naturally, there are no pictures of this mystery woman. there was one (1) of her holding infant geon, but then he found out that that was actually a sound tech who worked for his dad’s band… and he just never corrected geon’s assumptions LOLLLL

anyway! he was always really close to his dad, considering they were a two-person family. he has a set of grandparents, an aunt and a couple cousins but they were never involved with geon’s life because his dad is the #blacksheep of the family. geon and his dad against the world, am i right?

uhhh geon was also kind of a black sheep growing up, but he didn’t really notice? he was a happy kid, very energetic and enthusiastic. a lot of adults in the area looked down on him & his dad, but he was SOOOO blind to it because his dad’s a god in his eyes and HE’S always been nice to everyone, so why would they not like him??? because his clothes smelled a little like dad’s cigarette smoke??? big deal

wasn’t troublesome (beyond talking too much), but a lot of people still expected bad things from him :/ “his father’s a dirtbag, i’ll be surprised if that boy doesn’t end up in jail by 20”, “he won’t amount to anything without a proper role model in his life”, “his dad is teaching him how to slack off”, “he won’t contribute anything to society”, etc. he kindaaa picked up on this as he got older but pretended not to because it was more rewarding to play dumb and keep being a good kid(tm) to prove them wrong

was basically a mini version of his dad. same style, similar features, birthmarks in the same places, same “live today, die tomorrow” approach in life, same affinity for singing & playing rock music. ummm he loved his dad a lot. a lot. a lot. wanted to make him proud SO BAD, started his first band when he was 15 and they sucked so bad but his dad was their biggest fan… you know how it is. a lot of people misunderstood him, but he was a very good guy and such a great parent

TW DEATH unfortunately he passed away just shy of geon’s 18th birthday and your boy still hasn’t forgiven the world for taking his dad when he was in the middle of his angsty teen phase — had he known that their time together was dwindling, he would’ve been so so so much better to him END TW

his dad’s band actually rocketed into the charts after he passed & suddenly they were getting loads of publicity, lots of “what a shame that he went under-appreciated” which pissed geon off SOOOO bad because why couldn’t they have had that energy when he was still alive? he’s still mad about it five/six years later

this is getting kinda long, so uhhh tl;dr, he ended up staying with the drummer of his dad’s band until he was old enough to live alone/READY to live alone, but he changed quite a bit. was really going through it, quit his band, stopped putting effort into school. barely graduated. went from being a social butterfly spending every weekend at a gig or with friends to spending all of his time on a pc or in front of a tv, playing console games. the internet comforted him when nobody else would/could and then he met the future members of meta <33333333 #newbeginnings

present day geon is still struggling, has to go to counseling bi-weekly but he’s coming back out of his shell! he wants to fall in love with life again, just wants to tread carefully... outgoing & will talk to absolutely anyone, but he still spends most of his time alone. hard to reach by text, so if you wanna talk to him, you better call/facetime LMAO. talks a mile a minute, especially if you get him going abt something he really likes. laughs a lot, smiles a lot, more habitual than actual signs of happiness but yk. ummm he has a really loud voice, mostly controlled nowadays but he still gets carried away sometimes. an absolute menace during long drives/flights, sorry meta.

funny but only when he’s in large groups. feeds off of other peoples’ energy, really good at reading a room and breaking the ice/making everyone comfortable, but if you meet him 1-on-1, none of his jokes land quite the same.

i envision him as being the kind of guy who carries himself in such a way that you’d assume he’s really popular/out of reach/maybe even full of himself, but he’s... not like that... at all... in fact, he’s kinda irritating when you get to know him. the personification of a flood followed by a drought and vice versa, always either too much or not enough. gets used/ghosted/dropped/dumped/whatever a lot because he’s soooo fun in the moment (if he isn’t in his feelings), but draining long-term.

really emotionally intelligent, in touch with his feelings in a way that a lot of people never thought he would be (probably thanks to counseling tbh). he’s very very rarely the type of person who will make you wonder what your place in his life is — he’s communicative, kind, honest. ummm he thinks that intimacy between friends needs to be more common, so he’s really affectionate with the people in his life. type of guy to tell you he loves you every chance he gets (calling you when he’s drunk, sounding like a clingy ex type beat) & greet you/depart with a hug. losing his dad kinda fucked him up in the way that he won’t leave/hang up until his friends say “i love you” back, gets kinda (re: very) upset if he’s denied that and/or a hug.

TRIVIA.

has been playing the guitar “longer than he’s been walking” (not really, but he swears it’s true).

uhhh he really likes nail art, but he’s kinda hesitant in what he tries? mainly sticks to black polish (or other plain colors), but sometimes he’ll get little designs added in as well. mainly does it himself because he still doesn’t feel comfortable in salons... if his work looks bad, leave him alone <3 he’s trying

inspired by people like kurt cobain, nicky wire, yungblud, billie joe armstrong & damiano david in the fact that he’s not against wearing dresses or skirts on stage. doesn’t do it ALL the time, but often enough that it doesn’t go unnoticed. some people say that he does it for attention because he doesn’t dress like that elsewhere and tbh they’re probably kinda right

interested in history (only SOME... dinosaurs, ancient civilizations, specialized areas like the history of circuses/clowns/skateboarding/punk, stuff like that yk), stand-up comedy & documentaries. could spend a whole day watching documentaries and would say he had fun, has a lot of useless knowledge that nobody gives a fuck about and is kinda dumb when it comes to things that matter

when it comes to music, he prefers playing really fast and heavy rock or punk over anything else, but he actually listens to a lot more soft indie on his own time... he’s too tense these days to be listening to anything else RIPPP

the vibe: homemade tie-dye, ripped slipknot t-shirts, frosted tips, neon crocs with alien & peace-sign charms, chipped black nail polish, calloused hands, cheesy pick-up lines used NOT to land a date but to pull a smile, driving until he’s lost, stupid socks paired with pressed suits, dramatic poetry in an iphone note, etc. 

PLOT IDEAS.

people he met through online support groups about coping with grief

uhhh an on & off relationship that’s been going for who-knows-how-long. the reason for this is up for discussion, but i imagine that he hasn’t given up yet because the constant highs and lows are a good source of inspo 🤪 artists must suffer for their art!

opposite side of the coin — someone he’s interested in, but he’s NOT disloyal so it’s a pattern of persistent courting when he’s single vs intense friend-zoning when he’s not and they’re getting tired of trying to figure out what he wants from them

someone else who likes nail art & can convince him that NOBODY cares if he goes to a salon

someone (probably female but doesn’t really matter tbh) who feels like his feminism is entirely performative… maybe they attack him directly for it or maybe they just REALLY don’t like him and they’re super vague about it idk. either way, please tell him that activism is much more than recommending one female artist a year and saying “clothes have no gender 🤪” so he can be praised for the bare minimum (his heart is in the right place but his skull is empty)

someone super introverted who comes out of their shell with geon! uhhh maybe they think that he’s the one doing them a favor, but in reality spending time with them has been doing wonders for his mental health

other people who like to skate. let’s congregate at the local skatepark and scare the middle schoolers away

someone who inspires him musically, for whatever reason. lots of late nights in studios, idly strumming his guitar and writing lyrics that definitely aren’t about how their eyes look in these dim lights… umm maybe he thinks he has a crush on them but really doesn’t and ends up hurting them eventually, maybe he really DOES have a crush but will (probably) never do anything abt it or maybe it’s entirely platonic and he just admires them a ridiculous amount

someone who likes to make music as a hobby, prob won’t publish/release any of it but it’s fun to imagine. spontaneous meetings with geon in the middle of the night, recording songs together and keeping the WORST takes for the laughs. there’s probably a diss-track of them going in on each other floating around somewhere even though geon can’t rap for shit

night owls who keep him company on the phone, even if they can’t be there physically. them talking really quietly vs geon shouting at them while he plays games LMAO

gaming buddies. come over, maybe you can carry geon through his game of the week or you can both fail but have fun while you’re at it… or you can scream while he fends off that hoard of zombies behind you

i’m typing this at the last minute (literally) so i’m gonna stop here, but i will get a proper plots page put up asap with a wider variety of connections!!! but as always, please do let me know if you have any other ideas. i’m always happy to plot and write with you all 🌚

[clairecrive]

“Look at him!”- Bane x reader imagine

This is for the anon that asked: For a Bane request, what about the reader approaches him about getting a pet and reader ends up getting said pet whether he approves or not? Hope you like it!

Requests are always open!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​ (let me know if you wanna be added)

How difficult could it be to convince someone to adopt a dog? I mean, who wouldn't want to have a bundle of joy in their life? You would have met with such resistance on the subject. You really underestimated the situation. One of the reasons you had found Bane so fascinating was the way he has always been able to broaden your horizon and let you see things and sides that you would never think existed. You had had such different lives and had so diverse experience that your union seemed almost doomed to an outsider. But you had always reacted warmly to his different point of view and opinions and much to anyone surprises, so did he. Well, up until this point anyway.

"Babe c'mon, you're saying no before even hearing me out." You had been nagging him about adopting a dog for a few days now but he had always quickly dismissed the subject with a shake of his head and an icy glare. Shame on him to think that you would be so easily deterred though.

"Look around you, do you think this is a place where a dog can live?" This was the first time he argued about it and so far, he was already loosing. You lived under the city. And Gotham was fucking huge, so.

"Absolutely. There's a lot of space where he or she could roam free and happy. Besides, you basically have beasts running around this place. I don't see how a beautiful puppy can cause you any problem."

"I don't have the time to take care of him and neither do you."

"Please, they're not so high-maintenance as you're making them out to be. They only need food and lots of love, which we have lots of." You easily pointed out. Besides, you were thinking of a company buddy nor a guarding dog.

He didn't give you an answer, just a pointed look and you knew that you were nowhere near convincing him.

"Why are you so opposed to getting a puppy? They're small and cute and an endless source of love and affection."

"Do I strike you as the affectionate type?" He deadpanned looking at you for a few seconds before focusing back to his paper. Obviously not.

"I know that you're not. Very well actually, always begging you for a little of attention." you sassed because in this case, appearances were not deceiving. It's not like his lack of affection came from the absence of feelings or emotion. You knew that he was deeply traumatised and he has a hard time showing affection other than with his eyes. Just being with you was a huge step forward for Bane and you're aware of that. While you appreciated deeply this will of his to step out of his comfort zone to please you, you couldn't help but feel something missing. Because there was. And it was not only a reference to his inability to kiss you. That was for obvious reasons. Sometimes though a soft caress was just as full of meaning as a kiss, especially when it was pretty much the only way he could show affection that was PG-13.

"Oh, I see what's happening here. You want a dog because I don't give you enough attention. That's selfish." He snickered and you were taken back by how cruel he sounded. Was he trying to hurt you? To make you feel guilty about your wish and desires? Ugh, such a man move.

"First of all, I'm not selfish. Seeking affection from the man you love isn't selfish, it's human. You don't have the same need for it and that's fine. That makes you different but it does not make me weak or weird. Plus, don't pretend that you won't be head over heels for a puppy after a while because that's a load of bullshit." Now the conversation has shifted to a more personal subject and the tone both of you restored to use didn't help to make the atmosphere less tense.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. There's no place for a dog in our lives. I'm sorry." You knew that in his way he was trying to apologize for his cutting words but now he had crossed a line and you were so fucking done with his dismissive attitude and assertive tone that suddenly you wondered why you were even asking him for permission. He wasn't your husband much less your father. You didn't owe him an explanation nor did you need his approval. Of course, his enthusiasm and participation would have made the whole experience even more jolly but it wasn't mandatory. You could do this even without him.

"Maybe in yours but you bet your ass that there is in mine."

You didn't realize that things had gone sour up until the moment you stormed off his room. Maybe you were being a little dramatic about it but that's just what happens when you're frustrated. And God only knows how much Bane is good at it. Despite what it could have looked like, your theatrical exit didn't mean you were going to leave him. As if. You hadn't climbed on top of the mountain just to go sliding down it at the last minute. You know him and you knew that he just needed some time to get adjusted to the idea. Or well, you hoped so. Because there was a beautiful light brown curly poodle in your arms now and since the first time your eyes landed on his quivering form, you knew that only death could separate you from the little thing.

Bane was pushed at the back of your mind, he was going to deal with it. He had to. Maybe he'd throw a fit at first but you'd guarantee that he would love him just as much as you did. He was the best little boy you knew after all. You had just got home from the animal shelter and was currently laying on your bed when a loud knock was heard. You quickly turn around to weakly try to hide the little thing with your body. You didn't answer, knowing already that it was him, but then again he wasn't asking for permission, he was just notifying you of his presence. Well then, so would you.

"Y/N?" His voice came muffled by the ever-present mask on his face. He sounded almost uncertain. He didn't know where he stood after last night. You had stormed off and he didn't come to your room that night to sleep. You didn't think too much of it given that it wasn't an unusual thing for him to do. He often works all night and you always wondered how he managed to function without a good night sleep.

You just hummed in response, too focused on playing with your new buddy. He was growing his teeth so he had the tendency to bite your fingers, his teeth were so tiny though that you hardly noticed.

"Listen, about last night-" he started but stopped when he came closer enough to the bed you were sitting on to see the puppy you were holding. "- was totally pointless seeing as you went ahead and did it anyway." he growled displeased with the fact that you went behind his back.

"You're my boyfriend and I love you but I don't need to ask for your permission. I wanted a dog and so I adopted one. You don't want it and that's fine. He won't be a burden for you in any way, I assure you. See? Not that selfish." you couldn't help but throw shade at him. What? You weren't angry that he didn't want a dog, but his words last night stung and he hadn't apologized for that yet.

He let out a deep sigh, and you knew that he was feeling guilty. No matter how violent and crude he was with certain people, he never was one to hurt people without a reason, people that he loved nor women. And you ticked two out of the three boxes.

"You're the least selfish person I know, I'm sorry for yesterday. I didn't mean what I said." He simply offered but you took his apology gladly. Turning towards him, setting the dog on the ground so that he could explore a little, you simply looked at him in the eyes. They are really expressive.

"Does it really bothers you my need of affection? Is it a burden for you?" You ask. The thought that you could come across as clingy had never crossed your mind. Yes, you were affectionate but not that much. Or at least you thought so. But maybe for Bane's standards you were and he was just too kind to tell you.

Sitting next to you, he takes his hands in yours before speaking. "It really doesn't. I've never had someone to love him as you do before. Yes, sometimes it can feel too much but it's a good kind of feeling. Although I worry that you need more than what I can offer you." It was not the first time that he shared with you his apprehension of him not being enough for you. However, he never opened up to you like this before. The intensity of his gaze made him look more vulnerable than ever and suddenly you realized what the fuss was all about. He was scared.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're more than enough?" Allowing your foreheads to touch, you try and infuse your love to him so that he could feel less insecure. You felt a cold nose poking your leg and smiling a little, you picked him up and held him close to your faces.

"Besides, that's not true. Now you have someone else that will love you endlessly. He won't ever get angry at you and won't ever leave you. Say hi to daddy, baby." You cooed and smiled when the dog started licked Bane's cheek. By the way his eyes narrowed, you figured he was smiling under the mask. You attacked his other cheek with small little kisses so that he was smothered with love.

"We" kiss "love" kiss "you" another kiss. The giggle that he made was music to your ears. Holding you close to his chest, he let himself fall on the bed so that you and the dog were laying on him. Picking him up, Bane observed him for a moment.

"I guess we can keep him." He said and almost as if the puppy understood what he said, he barked and licked Bane's cheek again making you laugh and your heart flutter with joy.

[snakeboistan]

Pumpkins, Pumpkins

Pairing: There’s like one line of Karmagisa, kinda but it’s a 3-E bonding fic

“Hey guys,” Kimura said, “does anyone know where Koro-Sensei and Sugaya are?”

Nagisa hummed from his crouched position as he continued to treat a pretty nasty graze under Okajima’s knee. The blunette continued to gently dab the wound when he piped up, “I heard that the two of them are planning a surprise for us - hold still please, Okajima, I’m going to put a plaster on now.”

“‘A surprise?’” Okano repeated, tilting her head in confusion, “wonder what it is.”

“Well knowing Sugaya it’s got to be something artsy,” Mimura suggested, “maybe we’re all going to be painting a mural?”

“I hope not,” Kayano sighed, “I’m afraid that the most artistic thing I can do is a hand turkey.”

Fortunately, their suspense was short lived because the very subject appeared before them, carrying a small pumpkin in his hands, accompanied by their teacher. It was clear that the two of them had just arrived from a trip that was travelled at Mach-20, if the artist’s windswept hair was anything to go by, but the question of where was plaguing everyone’s mind.

“So, Sugaya,” Mimura said, “where did the two of you go.”

“Yeah,” Okajima nodded, “we heard that there was a surprise.”

“Well,” Sugaya said, ducking his head sheepishly, “you heard right.”

“OOHH,” Kurahashi squealed, jumping up and down, “WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” he replied, laughing at the girl’s never-ending enthusiasm. He held up the pumpkin in his hands, “it’s got something to do with this.”

“Are we gonna bake pumpkin pie,” Hara asked, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“No, pumpkin ramen,” Muramatsu countered.

“Hey, I’d be down for some pumpkin curry buns,” Yoshida said.

“What, no,” Sugaya shook his head before the class broke out into a fight, “We’re not gonna eat them, guys. We’re gonna carve them.”

“EHHH?” From nowhere a gust of wind gushed around them, sweeping up their clothes and hair in a miniature whirlwind. Quicker than they could blink, the class found themselves surrounded by propped up wooden tables, each having their own personal pumpkin decorating station complete with carving equipment, poster paints and stencils.

“Wow, that was fast, Sir,” Sugaya smiled at his tentacled teacher.

“Oh this is nothing,” Koro-Sensei beamed, “what good is having a top speed of Mach 20 if I can’t use it to help my students get their creative juices flowing?

“Really?” Terasaka crossed his arms and grumbled, “We’re gonna be decorating vegetables now?”

“Oh stop acting all tough, Terasaka,” Fuwa scoffed, “I know for a fact that you’ve cried during Kimi No Na Wa.”

The class burst into full-blown chortles, choked laughter and muffled giggles as Terasaka turned red and spluttered, “What the hell, Fuwa?!”

Fuwa smirked and held up a peace sign, “call it an otaku’s instinct.”

Karma smirked as he rubbed his hands together with glee, “ooh, this will be fun.”

“Uhh,” Kimura sweat-dropped at Karma’s devilish aura. The rest of the class' wary eyes widened at the swinging tail and sharp horns that seemed to protrude out of him, “is it really a good idea to have so many sharp objects around when Karma’s here?”

“Don’t worry,” Nagisa reassured everyone, apparently being the only person unbothered by the redhead’s questionable behaviour, “I’ll make sure that no one gets hurt.”

“Well, children,” Koro-Sensei said, “what are you waiting for? Go and have fun.”

And with that they all ran towards the tables, absolutely buzzing to get started.

…

Nagisa placed his small pumpkin on the tabletop next to Sugino. The black haired boy in question, who had obtained the most spherical-looking pumpkin he could find, was currently covering its entire surface with white paint.

“Hey, Nagisa,” Sugino smiled, “what are you going to do?”

Nagisa hummed, “Well, I’m not the best with a knife but I’m going to try carving a face. If all else fails, I can just paint on some superhero symbols and call it a day. You?”

“I’m turning this thing into a giant baseball.”

The blunette smiled, “yeah, that sounds about right.”

After an hour and a half, one miniature war between a certain group of students who were flinging pumpkin pulp at others (mainly Karma aiming at Terasaka, to be honest), and one dramatic rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart courtesy of Okajima and Maehara, the class had completed their pumpkin carving activity and were all admiring each other’s handiwork. The girls had gathered around Kurahashi and Yada’s pumpkin and were fawning over it’s adorableness. The two girls had used their knife skills to carve a window and door to create a quaint little home for the tiniest little pumpkin they could find, that Kurahashi had drawn a smiley face on with a black marker.

“His name is ‘Kabo-chan’ and he is our son,” Kurahashi was telling everyone proudly with Yada nodding next to her (it’s a play on words - according to google translate ‘kabocha’ is japanese for pumpkin).

Meanwhile, others were having their own kind of fun.

“Wow, Terasaka, I’ve got to say that your pumpkin looks positively gruesome - oh wait nevermind,” Karma smiled ‘innocently’ as he corrected his apparent ‘mistake’, “that’s just your face.”

“What the hell, Akabane,” Terasaka growled as he took a step forward, “why don’t you just go and f*** off. Or better yet, grow a pair and actually tell Nagisa how you feel instead of-”

Due to the fact that Kanzaki’s praise of his baseball pumpkin had rendered Sugino speechless and the tan skinned boy looked like he was going to pass out, Nagisa was preoccupied and therefore unable to prevent the fight that had broken out after Karma dunked a bucket of pumpkin guts over Terasaka’s head.

Kayano giggled, “I’m surprised you didn’t paint sushi rolls onto yours, Nagisa.”

“I did consider it,” the blue-haired boy replied, shrugging sheepishly. He had scrapped his original idea of carving and just ended up sharing Sugino’s white paint which he used to cover his own pumpkin as well, before using black paint to paint on two spots connected by a line to resemble Baymax’s face. It wasn’t as creative as his classmates’, like Nakamura’s puking pumpkin guts idea, or Kimura’s and Okano’s pumpkin that had the words ‘BEING NAMED JUSTICE’ and ‘SCHOOL’ carved on respectively, or the many other scary faces that were displayed but he wasn’t really the artistic type anyways.

“Holy hell, Sugaya,” Yoshida’s voice exclaimed, “that’s a frickin masterpiece.”

Growing curious at the source of the motorcycle lover’s awe, Nagisa and Sugino made their way towards the cluster of students who had gathered around Sugaya’s workstation, only to be faced with something that made their breaths catch: meticulously carved onto the husk of his large orange vegetable was an outline of the E-class building. Sugaya’s skillful hands had used the tools provided to create an image that was so carefully drawn, it looked almost lifelike, with thick bold lines that made the picture look three-dimensional. He had even found a way to somehow only shave off the outer epidermis of the skin to use the light yellow under it to give the illusion of light and shadow. It was times like this when Nagisa wondered how E-Class was seen as harbouring the lowest of the low when it was filled with people who were brimming with so much talent that it would put adults to shame.

“Oh my god,” Nakamura breathed as she snapped a picture on her phone.

“Now that’s a pumpkin,” Mimura stated with pure admiration.

“Wow Sugaya, it’s amazing,” Kayano said, “I have no idea how you were able to do it in like an hour. I was only able to get a smiley face done.”

“It is really nice,” Nagisa commented.

“Oh thanks, Nagisa. By the way, I’ve got another pumpkin I think you might like.”

Ignoring Okajima’s disbelieving cry of “YOU MADE ANOTHER ONE?!”, Sugaya bent down and handed Nagisa the miniature pumpkin he was holding earlier. Groaning slightly at the increased weight that was placed in his arms, Nagisa turned the pumpkin around to find that it had a snake carved onto its skin. He huffed out a laugh, “That’s amazing. I love it.”

“Oh my god,” Nakamura laughed, “snake boy gets a snake pumpkin.”

The class burst into laughter as Nagisa blushed.

“WHO WANTS TO SEE MY PUMPKIN?” Koro-Sensei’s gleeful voice broke through the crowd. The class turned towards him and immediately paused at the sight that greeted them. Sitting on the floor at one meter was the largest pumpkin they had ever seen and carved onto it was a recreation of Michaelangelo’s famous painting of ‘The Creation Of Adam’ only the bodies of God and Adam were replaced by Koro-Senseis, who were wearing billowing robes and heads of flowing hair, very intimately touching tentacle-tips. Surrounding them were tiny Koro-Sensei’s in cherubic attire, complete with harps and angel wings. The artist himself started tearing up, “ISN’T IT BREATH-TAKING?”

A beat passed...

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!”

“That has got to be the weirdest thing I’ve seen all day,” Kimura deadpanned.

Okajima looked disturbed, “It’s so strange that I can’t help but look at it.”

Sugino nodded, “It’s going to be in my nightmares for days.”

“Talk about over-kill,” Maehara commented.

Koro-Sensei burst into tears at their criticism, “WHY MUST YOU CHILDREN BE SO CRUEL?!”

Rolling his eyes at his teacher’s melodramatic wails, Sugaya addressed the class, with a nervous smile, “so, did you guys have fun?”

“Yep.”

“Totally.”

“It was awesome.”

“Yeah, I guess it was alright.”

“I definitely enjoyed myself.”

“It was a great idea, Sugaya.”

“Yeah dude, we should definitely do this again sometime.”

The silver haired boy blushed at all of the positive reinforcement he was getting, “Thanks guys. To be honest, I’ve always wanted to do this for a while but I couldn’t imagine doing it without you guys.”

“Aww, Sugaya,” Kurahashi hugged him, “that’s really sweet.”

“Yeah,” Okano chimed, “class activities are always fun.”

“It’s never a boring day in our weirdly dysfunctional family,” Nakamura smirked.

“I’m keeping these knives.”

“Karma, no.”

[ninja-hamsterstyle]

All We Are, Chapter 1

A/N: Well, this work in progress has been about a year in the making. Kudos go to @queenmismatched​ who sent me some Barry/Eowells fic recs when I had just gotten into The Flash and was healing from surgery!

Pairings: Barry Allen/Eowells, eventual Barry Allen/reader/Eowells

Warnings: Embarrassment, the reader walking in on a... situation, blow jobs, swearing, I think?

Words: 2,603

Summary: Sometimes, someone comes into your life so unexpectedly, takes your heart by surprise, and changes your life forever.  A story in which Eobard Thawne experiences an unforeseen change in his plans… but he doesn’t entirely mind.

The Reader's P.O.V.

   "Oh, come on, Y/N!" Cisco said pleadingly. "We haven't been out in forever!"

  You laughed, finally setting your laptop down for the first time since work had ended for the night/ Well your metahuman work anyway. Your day job still beckoned.

  "Didn't we go to the movies just last week?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Yeah, well..." He paused for a moment, trying to come up with a good counter argument. "We're not going to the movies this time," was all he could come up with, but he paired it with a puppy-eyed expression.

  "Barry does the puppy eyes better," You said, and patted his hand on the table. "I'll come out next time, okay?" You promised.

  The puppy eyes faded into a look of disappointment and he nodded. You patted his hand again.

  A few minutes later, Caitlin came striding into the Cortex, her coat buttoned up and her purse slung over her shoulder. "You sure you don't want to come with us, Y/N?" She asked. "It's trivia night."

  You nodded. "Yeah. This story is due Thursday morning and I'm not getting paid if it's not finished by then."

  Caitlin nodded, though she looked a little unsure. You smiled at her, silently trying to reassure her that you were alright. After a minute, she stepped forward and touched his arm to catch his attention.

  "Let's go," She said softly once he looked at her. She looked back at you and said a little bit louder, a little more cheerfully, "We'll see you tomorrow!"

  You nodded and waved as they walked into the hallway. "Have fun at Jitters!"

  As you sat down and pulled your laptop closer, you faintly heard the chime of the elevator being called. Another faint chime sounded not long after, announcing the arrival of the elevator. You smiled to yourself, settling back in your chair.

  Time to get to work.

  It doesn't take long for you to start where you left off. There were a few false beginnings, but then you remembered where you had been going with the narrative. You immersed yourself in the story, loving that familiar sensation that all creators knew well. Almost an hour passed and you were roughly halfway through.

  You were so deep into the story that you hardly reacted when Barry streaked into the cortex, still wearing his work clothes.

  "Is Dr. Wells still here?" He asked, brushing dust off of himself.

  "Yep." You barely spared him a glance. "He's in his office." Or at least you thought he was; you hadn't heard his wheelchair rolling down the hall outside. But then again, you hadn't heard much of anything, distracted as you were.

  Barry took your word for it, though. He said, "Thanks," and then he was off before you thought to say no problem. There was a light, papery sound sliding through the air, but you ignored it. You were familiar enough with the sound of Barry taking off by now.

  You thought.

  You finally stopped typing ten or maybe fifteen minutes later (you weren't entirely sure; time was always a slippery thing when you became immersed in writing). The story was less than a quarter away from the ending, but your poor fingers were demanding a break. With a satisfied sigh, you set the laptop on the table and leaned back in your chair.

  And let loose a string of swear words.

  Turns out there was a reason why you associated the papery sound you'd heard earlier with Barry leaving: There was a notebook's worth of papers spread out on the floor. A common result of a certain speedster speeding away.

  You swore again and got up, moving to clean the papers up. Barry Allen was lucky he was cute - it made a lot harder to be mad at him when he made a mess like this. There was also the fact that you may have had a tiny crush on him, but you weren't going to think about that right now.

  It took almost as long as it did to convince Cisco and Caitlin that you were fine staying here by yourself, but you finally had the papers arranged in (mostly) neat little stacks on the floor. You had picked them up and were attempting to figure out where they used to be when you heard the sound. It was like a faint groan, so quiet your ears almost didn't pick it up. You froze, your eyes darting to the medbay, the treadmill room, the hall outside the Cortex. There was no one there.

  Right?

  You shook your head, chalking the sound up to being water pipes groaning or - more likely - your imagination. You were still a little absorbed in your own world. But then, a few minutes later, you heard the sound again. And again, and it was louder this time. There was definitely no one nearby… except for…

  Dr. Wells.

  Your eyes darted the hallway at the same time another groan drifted down. There was no mistaking it this time: the groan belonged to Dr. Wells.

You reached out with your meta-healing sense, but didn't feel anything. That didn't mean something wasn't wrong though. Concerned, you stood and hurried out of the Cortex without putting down the papers in your hand. The door to Dr. Wells's office was slightly ajar and, despite your urgency, you raised your free hand to knock on the door frame (it seemed rude not to) and peered through the gap out of habit. And then you froze.

  Dr. Wells was in his office. But he wasn't hurt or injured like you'd thought.

  No, he was far from it actually.

  For a moment, time seemed to slow. You were frozen with shock… and maybe a little arousal. Dr. Wells was sitting in his wheelchair like usual. What wasn't usual though was the way his hands clenched the armrests of the chair and his eyes closed in pleasure. Nor was the way that Barry - Barry! - knelt in front of him. The bobbing of the speedster's head left little question as to what he was doing.

  You wanted to walk away. You should have walked away. But for some reason your legs wouldn't move. All you could do was stare.

  Then Dr. Wells groaned again and the beautiful, damning sound broke whatever spell you'd been under. You gasped as time sped back up. The papers in your hand slipped from your grasp and fell to the floor with whispery, shifting sounds. Those sounds, quiet as they were, seemed impossibly loud. You mentally swore and berated yourself, but it was too late.

  Barry froze his head bobbing and there was a wet popping as he presumably pulled Dr. Wells's cock from his mouth. Dr. Wells himself opened his eyes and looked directly at you. The expression on his face changed from ecstasy to surprise, but there was something else there as well, something you couldn't quite decipher. Then there was a blur and a flash of yellow lightning and Barry was right in front of you, opening the door further and blocking the other scientist from view.

  His mouth opened, but you didn't hear what he said or was about to say. You turned and took off down the hall, with no other thought than you had to get out of there. Now.

 Eowell's P.O.V.

   Eobard Thawne - the man currently masquerading as Harrison Wells - hated Barry Allen. Hated him with a burning passion. But he loved his mouth and his talented, talented hands.

  Eobard had been sitting in his office, tinkering with an invention Cisco had left behind, some kind of meta-human dampening cuff, when the speedster sped in. He wasn't wearing his speed suit, which was a damn shame - he looked quite delectable in it - but he was wearing skinny jeans and an expression that was a cross between gratefulness and something a little dirtier.

  "Are you busy?" He'd asked with a glance at the invention in his hands.

  Eobard set the gadget down without looking at it and started to move his wheelchair around the desk. "Not anymore. Why?"

  "I, uh, I wanted to thank you for earlier." Despite the not-so-innocent grin that played at his lips, Barry blushed. "You saved my ass out there."

  The secret speedster matched Barry's grin as he stopped in front of him. "It was my pleasure, Mr. Allen, but if you really want to thank me, I could think of a few ways you might do that..."

  And that was how Barry ended up on his knees in front of Eobard, his tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Eobard groaned and leaned his head back, his eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of pleasure. The boy was gifted with his mouth, even more so than Eobard had imagined when they had first started doing this a few short months ago. Barry sucked him off like a pornstar, bobbing his head up and down his length with a well-set rhythm. One of his hands held his thigh, and while Eobard had to pretend that he couldn't feel it, he certainly didn't pretend that he couldn't feel the hand cupping his balls.

  "Fuck," He growled when Barry buzzed his hand around his balls. Smirking around his length, Barry did it again and got the same reaction. Eobard gripped the wheelchair's armrests, forcing himself not to thrust his hips up like he so desperately wanted to.

  As he got closer to the edge, his sounds got louder. He was moaning and growling and swearing with abandon. Everyone else had left earlier that evening. Except for Y/N, but he didn't realize that... at least not until he heard a gasp that wasn't his own and a strange papery sound.

  His eyes shot open and to the partially open door. Y/N was standing there, a stack of papers fanned out at her feet - the source of the papery sound, no doubt. Shock was written across her features, but also arousal? Eobard wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but he didn't find it unwelcome.

  Barry pulled off his mouth and stood up. In the blink of an eye, he was at the door, blocking Eobard's view of Y/N. He started to say something, then stopped and Eobard heard harsh footsteps as Y/N ran away. Barry called her name, but she didn't stop. He glanced over his shoulder and the question in his eyes was clear.

  Should I go after her?

  Eobard nodded. "Go talk to her," He said and his voice was still a bit rough with his previous desire. He cleared his throat and continued, "Convince her to come back here."

  Barry nodded in understanding and took off, leaving a brief trail of lightning in his wake. Eobard watched as the lightning quickly faded and tucked his still-hard self back into his pants.

  This was an interesting turn of events.

  Very interesting indeed.

 The Reader's P.O.V.

   You shoved open the heavy metal door leading to the stairwell and dashed down the steps. Your lungs were already burning with exertion. Barry would catch up in literally no time at all, but that didn't stop you from trying to get out. You were regretting not going out with Caitlin and Cisco when they offered.

  Staying late was a mistake. A big, no huge mistake.

  After three floors and no streaks of lightning, you thought you were home free. Then you reached the fourth landing and saw a familiar figure blocking the path to the next flight of stairs. A gasped curse escaped your lips as you skidded to a stop. "Fuck."

  You'd forgotten about the other stairwell in the building.

  Barry leaned against the stair railing, an unreadable expression on his face. He didn't say anything; he just watched you as you fought to catch your breath.

  "Took you long enough." It was a weak joke and you knew it. It was the only thing that came to mind when you stopped panting for air, though.

  Thankfully, Barry ignored it. His searching stare wasn't all that comforting, however. You stared right back at him, trying very hard not to squirm or fidget.

  Finally, he said, "I think it'd be naive to assume you didn't see anything."

  Your heart beating in your throat, you nodded.

  "Yeah." He laughed and, to your surprise, it didn't sound strained or forced. But it didn't help your nerves either.

  "I didn't mean to walk in on you," You said. It was true. You didn't think in your concerned urgency that the groans meant something else, that they lacked a pained edge. And you definitely hadn't expected to see Barry on his knees in front of the wheelchair. Nor had you been prepared for your body's reaction.

  And from the slow-forming look on Barry's face, you that he knew.

  You shifted from foot to foot, wondering if you could lunge past him to the next flight of stairs before he could catch you. Probably not, but it was worth a shot, right?

  "We know," He said. "It's not like you knew about us."

  You nodded and laughed. It wasn't like Barry's laugh - it sounded strained and on the verge of hysteria to your ears, like a nervous reflex. But Barry smiled like he thought it was cute or something. And that thought made your heart skip a beat.

  "Why don't you come back up to Dr. Wells's office with me?" Barry asked. His tone was casual, but his body was tensed, ready to catch you if you tried to take off again.

  You hesitated, your hand gripping the railing next to you.

  The speedster saw your uncertainty. "Neither of us is mad at you," He said, choosing his words carefully. "We just want to talk." He held out his hand to you. "Do you trust me?"

  You stared at his hand for a moment, then at his face. He was still wearing that kind smile.

  "I do," You said and took his proffered hand.

  Barry's face lit up and his smile grew wider, making you smile right back at him. That classic happy puppy face of his never failed to make you melt.

  "Hold on." He squeezed your fingers and before you knew it, there was a blur of yellow lightning and the two of you were back on the floor you had originally started on.

It was the first time Barry had run you anywhere and you were unprepared for the sudden stop. "Whoa..." You stumbled a few steps.

  "Easy there." Barry let go of your hand and gripped your shoulder instead, helping you steady yourself. He flashed (hehe) another one of his puppy smiles. "Maybe we should walk the rest of the way?"

  "That sounds like a good idea," You agreed, but as the two of you started down the corridor, you regretted it. The nerves that had prompted you to flee fired up again. They grew with each step, so that by the time you and Barry approached the office door, it felt as if a swarm of butterflies had taken up residence in your stomach. You were suddenly glad that the scarlet speedster wasn't holding your hand anymore, because your palms were now slick with sweat.

  What am I doing? You thought as Barry pushed the door open. He had reassured you that he and Dr. Wells weren't mad, so why did they want to talk to you? Maybe...

  Nope. You stopped that thought before it could fully form. They didn't want you to join them.

  Did they?

All Tags: @ivonstiel​ @meganwinchester1999​​ @mythrealfan​​ @fear0fdeathkeepsusalive​​ @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse​​ @starlightdobriks​​

The Flash: @stilloutofmyvulcanmind​

[wcamino-confessions]

Firstly, the new theme looks great! Just wanted to put that out there. I like using my computer to say stuff here since I'm less likely to make mistakes, so it's nice to have the font bigger and more readable!!

Anyways, I saw people asking about when to post and all that, and I've also noticed the whole commission struggle thing. 

I'm gonna make a more indepth post sometime in the coming months, but what I can quickly say right now is that advertising and marketing comes into play when making adopts and selling your artwork.

Selling your art? Some quick tips:

- Don't bug your page down with a ton of reposts/reblogs

If people have to search for your art, they may not have the energy or interest to! But if you don't have to look too far for your creations, they're more likely to follow and stay interested! Positive impressions are super important.

- WIP shots

Don't worry about "not being good enough," WIP shots are really nice to show people your process, or even give them a glimpse into the previews of your works! Builds up suspense, since people will be excited for the finished product! (Can ALSO be applied to writers!!)

- Don't be afraid to use hashtags

Hashtags like "#SmallArtist" "#SmallWriter" exist to be used! There's no shame in it! Same can be done with "#Commissions" "#Points" "#Paypal" "#AminoCoins"

- Similarly to Hashtags, use keywords

You'd be surprised how well keywords work. If you drew fanart of Firestar? Make sure to put "Rusty, Firepaw, Fireheart, Firestar" Somewhere in the post (I suggest the bottom in a little section labeled "Keywords/hashtags") It will lead to far more people seeing it!

Selling adopts?

- If your account revolves around selling adopts, also don't bug down your account with reposts/reblogs

This one isn't AS big of an issue as it would be with selling art, but it's still recommended! Just like with art, it doesn't mean you can't repost things, just don't have a stream of 10 in a row, y'know what I mean?

- Polls are your friends

Not sure what your audience is into? Do a poll! (Make sure to follow the 20 word minimum rule, even if that means you just go into depth.) I did this a few days ago, and I got feedback that genuinely really helped me, and after that my adopts sold REALLY fast. 

Example of a description to avoid getting hidden: "Hello! I've been looking at my adopts and realizing certain types sell faster than others, and would appreciate some feedback on what types of adopts my followers are looking for."

Some poll option ideas could be "Light colors, dark color, vibrant colors, realistic colors" "no accessories, a few accessories, a lot of accessories" etc. It may not sound like a lot but it really does help.

- Speaking of polls, don't be afraid to delete them

After your poll ends (I suggest having it just run for 1-2 days) document the results with either a save screenshot or just writing it down, and then get rid of the poll to avoid it bugging down your page.

- Do popular/trending challenges/themes

Y'know the 3 emoji challenge? Yeah, don't be afraid to use it! It's a great way to get inspiration from recognizable imagery! 

Another popular trend for the past few years has been "themed adopts" using appealing names! (Ex. "Fall's call" "Summer sunset" "midnight rain") which can also be a decent source of inspiration. 

I made a simple generator for those who need help coming up with ideas https://perchance.org/adopt-theme

The biggest word of advice I could give is not giving up. There is no such thing as a bad artist/designer, only one with room to grow.

So what if someone else has their adopts/commissions selling a lot? That doesn't take away from your chance to shine, so get out there!

And if you ever need help with boosting, PM me at Mouri on WA, and I'll gladly boost your stuff ^^ I've done it before, and had positive outcomes and I enjoy making others happy, so don't feel like you're being annoying or anything like that!!!!

Have a nice day everyone.

[thefloatingstone]

We’ve gone from Self-Isolation to Quarantine and in some places to gradual relaxation phases, but that doesn’t stop the need for more nonsense you can watch on youtube while you wait for things to get back to normal. And recommending things and making lists are some of my favourite things to do but I have not yet figured out how to start or structure a video myself, you guys get another rambling tumblr post of things you can watch on youtube.

This time I’m once again just gonna recommend individual videos rather than full channels like I did in part 2.

Part 1

Part 2

In no particular order; 

LOCAL58: The Broadcast Station that Manipulates You

I recently started watching the Nexpo channel when I went on a binge of creepy youtube videos. Most of his videos are really good although the ones where he himself goes into theory crafting can be a little asinine. However, this video is REALLY good. And before you get nervous, LOCAL58 is not a real TV station. LOCAL58 is a youtube channel created by the same guy behind the Candle Cove creepypasta. This video by Nexpo covers the various episodes of LOCAL58 and discusses them. Just be aware going in that this is abstract horror, and will probably get under your skin regardless if you’re unaffected by certain topics or not. although cw for suicide mention.

I also recommend most of the rest of this channel, although be careful where you tread. I don’t recommend his series “Disturbing things from around the internet” as it can sometimes include real life crime, abuse and such caught on security cameras. Everything else is really good tho. (although I was really annoyed by his 2 videos on KrainaGrzybowTV)

The Search for D.B. Cooper

LEMMiNO has a new video out covering one of the most unexplained crimes in the past century of the US. LEMMiNO is the guy I’ve recommended before who did videos on the Universal S. He is very down to earth and not someone prone to conspiracy or even really that fanciful of thinking. (He’s like the one person I feel covered the Dyaltov Pass incident and was confused by why this was even a mystery because if you read the Russian Autopsy reports and documents associated with the case it’s all pretty logical and easily explained)

D.B. Cooper is the name given to a man who, in 1971, hijacked an airplane with a bomb, asked for a large sum of money, and after receiving it, parachuted from the plane and was never seen or heard from again.

The Austrian Wine Poisoning | Down the Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole also has a new video out, this time covering the Austrian Wine Poisoning event from 1985. A scandal that involved literally the entire country of Austria, affected multiple countries, and forever changed the way wine was made world wide. As someone who is generally pretty allergic to most artificial substances this one made me personally very angry. But luckily, it has a happy ending and a better world for us all... if I could drink wine which I can’t do anyway.

The Turbulent Tale of Yandere Dev - A Six Year Struggle

The Right Opinion is another channel I only recently subbed to after watching his cover on Onion Boy. I put off subbing to him simply because of his channel name and I thought it meant he would come across as smug and elitist. Luckily this seems to merely be one of those “I chose a bad channel name and now I’m stuck with it” type of situations. (IHE has a similar problem).

Anyway, I have a weird interest in bizarre internet personalities, so I’ve been enjoying his channel as he simply discusses and presents a timeline of events of certain individuals. In this video, he covers the developer behind the much maligned Yandere Simulator. It’s a tale of hubris, arrogance, immaturity, and an unwillingness to accept your own shortcomings due to ego.

Oh and there’s a meme game about Japanese school girls with anime tiddies in there as well.

The Most Relaxing Anime Ever Made | Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō

Kenny Lauderdale is a youtube channel which is slowly becoming bigger which I’m very happy to see. He exclusively covers anime and live action Japanese television no younger than the mid 90s (as is the case with YYK) and which usually never saw a release outside of Japanese Laserdisc. I do wish his videos were a little longer, but if nothing else his videos serve as an excellent starting to point to find some older and underappreciated shows... or hot garbage fires. In this episode he talks about the 2 OVA episodes made based on one of my favourite manga, Yokohama Shopping Log. A Post apocalyptic anime about an android who runs a coffee shop outside of her house, and the quiet solitude of living in a world of declining human population, brief encounters with travelers and other people, and just... existing. The anime was never released outside of Japan and is only available on Japanese VHS and laserdisc.... but hey guess what!! Somebody uploaded both episodes, subbed, to Youtube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2HCVOH6DtA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqSTwfkobME

YMS’ slow descent into madness as he uncovers just how bullshit the Kimba Conspiracy is

I’m linking a full playlist for this one.

YMS is busy planning his review on the “live action” Lion King remake as the original 1994 movie is probably his favourite movie all time (and also self declared what made him a furry). As part of the 2 hour review, he decided to what all 2000 hours of Kimba the White Lion just to mention how The Lion King potentially stole the idea. ....until he actually watched all 2000 hours of Kimba and realised that if you actually WATCH Kimba, it has VERY little to do with the Lion King at all apart from having the same animals in them because AFRICA. Watch as one man slowly loses his mind as he realises just how stupid this conspiracy theory is, just HOW DECEITFUL and straight up LYING people can be. People who write BOOKS. People who teach LAW AT UNIVERSITIES. Because NOBODY bothered to actually watch the entire show and just parroted the “Disney stole this” lie which got started by like 2 salty fans on the internet.

The man set out to just mention how Disney stole an idea, and uncovered one of the most infuriating rabbit holes on the internet. Screaming for SOMEONE to provide him with sources or evidence.

YMS will be publishing his full Kimba documentary this month which he has said is around 2 hours long before he continues to work on the Lion King one.

Science Stories: Loch Ness eDNA results, Poop Knives, and Skeleton Lovers

TREY the Explainer has a video giving us some updates in Archeology from 2019. In this video he discusses the findings of the eDNA results conducted on the Loch Ness to see what animal DNA the lake contains which will tell us what living animals currently inhabit the lake, ancient knives made of poop and if this is a real thing that could have existed, and a skeleton couple found buried together which were at first thought to be lovers, then revealed to be both male, and then how in this instance we cannot let our modern sensibilities dictate what we WANT this burial find to be, but to look at the evidence as presented to us and place in context finds of this nature. The worst thing an archaeologist can do is look for proof to a theory they already have.

The Bizarre Modern Reality of Sonic the Hedgehog

Super Eyepatch Wolf is back and he’s here to talk to us about the very very strange existence of Sonic. a 90s rebellious “too cool for School” answer to Mario, a lost idea as the world of video games changes and culture shifted, a meme and punching bag amplified by a unique fanbase and poor quality games, a transcendence into a horrific warped  idea of what he once was, and modern day and where Sonic and his fans are now. As usual Super Eyepatch Wolf knocks it out of the park.

Kokoro Wish and the Birth of a Multiverse: A Lecture on the Work of Jennifer Diane Reitz

I don’t even sub to this channel as I’m not entirely sure what Ben’s usual content is about. But every now and then he has a “101″ class, where he explains to a room full of his friends in a classroom setting (complete with Whiteboard) an internet artist and oddity, the timeline, and what it is they have created. (wait... didn’t I say this already?). Unlike TRO however, the 101 classrooms are not a dark look into disturbed individuals (although the CWC 101 is debatable) nor is it a “lol look at this weirdo” dragging. Instead, of the 3 he’s done so far, it’s usually a rather sympathetic look at some of the strange artists on the internet who through some way or another, left a very big cultural impact on the internet space through their art. Sometimes they may not be the best people, but their work is so outside of what we’re used to seeing that just listening to him run you through these people’s internet history is fascinating.

In this episode he talks about Jennifer Diane Reitz. And although it is titled Kokoro Wish, the lecture is more about Jennifer’s larger work back in the early internet when being a weeb was unheard of, how being trans influenced her stories and characters, and her world building that is so rich and in-depth with it’s own ASTRO PHYSICS it puts any modern fictional world found in games or movies to shame.

Jennifer is not exactly a nice person... and in many ways can be seen as dangerously irresponsible, but she created something truly unique in a way that you kinda struggle figuring out if it’s terrible or a work of genius.

Anyway I think that’s enough for now

[saiilorstars]

The Beginning of Everything

Ch. 31: A Time Lady’s Duty

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC 

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel​ 

[If you would like to be added to this specific OC’s taglist, let me know!]

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Chapter summary: As the Master gains control of the Earth, the Time Lords strive to save themselves from extinction. The Assessor, for that matter, will do anything to ensure their victory even at the expense of her sister.

[Renata’s new face claim is Livia Brito and the Assessor’s is Ana Brenda]

The Master was relishing in his triumph. He had every single human under his control, every weapon at his disposal, a whole planet just for him...and then came the truly best part. On one side of the room he had the Doctor strapped to the very chair that had kept the Master a few hours ago. There was a thick black strap going over the Doctor's face - finally shutting up that gob of his - with a few other straps to keep him bound. On the other side, the Master had Renata bound to a regular chair but she had no gag on. He wanted to hear more of her excuses, see the shame on her face each time he would remind her of her past. It was his entertainment. The old human beside her was just a plus. He didn't know what he would do with Wilf yet but he was sure to have a plan later on.

"Now, then. I've got a planet to run!" the Master exclaimed, tapping his fingers against each other as he walked towards the controls. He had every world leader as a version of himself.

"This won't last," Renata said after the Master annoyingly checked in with each World Leader. He'd done this three times already.

The Master turned around, glaring at her for a brief second before he grinned. "Oh my dear Renata! You really think that, huh?" he scurried towards her, missing the Doctor squirming under his straps. He wanted the Master far, far away from Renata.

He won't hurt me, he heard Renata's calm voice in his mind. She was having a stare down with the Master three inches from her face. To her credit, she truly did not seem afraid of him.

He's crazy. You don't know what he would do, the Doctor returned.

He won't hurt me because then he wouldn't be able to mock me and shame me if I really died. Renata had no doubt that the Master wouldn't hesitate to inflict some type of pain on her but never to the point of killing her. She was a good source of fun for him, a toy that he could squeeze and laugh at. He could never end that type of game.

"Why are you so silent?" the Master demanded from Renata. Usually by now she would have said something else, something about how this plan was crazy and he would never succeed. But all she did was stare. He looked back at the Doctor who had stopped squirming. He craned his head as if he were going to look at Renata again but he started to laugh. "Oh! Oh! I get it!" He stepped away from Renata so that he was between her and the Doctor. "You opened up your telepathic abilities! You're connected! How romantic. Tell me," his laugh disappeared as he turned to Renata. "How long did that take after I was gone? You waste absolutely no time, my dear Renata."

Renata glared at him but there was still an inkling inside her reminding her that what the Master claimed was true. She did make a terrible mistake in the past. But she would not allow him to guilt her over things that never happened. "I only opened my mind because the situation called for it. I've done nothing wrong."

The Master laughed again and bent down in front of her, shaking his head. "It's hilarious to me that you actually believe yourself. Who would've thought that the noble Renata—" he mocked her name, taking pleasure at her flinch, "—would do something so...primitive like a human. I mean, you—" he gestured back at the Doctor, "—I sort of expect because, well...look at where you've wasted centuries of your lives on." The Doctor glared at him. "Of course you would pick up their ape-like ways. Then again, this did happen before so maybe you were always like this. Having an affair? Hm," he brought a hand to his chin as if he was really pondering on the situation. "I've always been rather infamous myself but you would never catch me having an amorous affair. Pathetic!" He screamed, causing all three of his prisoners to flinch from the sudden volume. "Embarrassment to our people!" A deep, dark fury that crossed his face - that one did make the Doctor fear for Renata's well being. The Master turned on his heels for the Time Lady and rushed right up to her face, so much that she had to lean away. "Betrayal for my brother! He was an idiot but he was still my brother! He showered you with stupid love, stupid gifts and you go and betray him! You should be dead like the rest of them!"

Renata scrunched her face as he kept shouting at her. She could feel some of his spit landing on her skin but it wasn't what mattered. His words were all true. Her stomach churned as she thought of her late husband. Elek. He did give her everything she wanted; everything anyone would've wanted. He was always sweet to her, never once raised his voice even when they did have a arguments here and there. But he was rubbish at arguing - she always pointed that out to him when they made up.

"Maybe it's because I don't want to argue with my beautiful wife," he would tell her later in the day.

"Or maybe you just have no talent at it," she would poke more fun at him to see if she could get one proper argumentative response, but she never did.

There were the gifts that he would surprise her with. Being an Architect gave him ample exploration of the planet. Sometimes he would come home with the rarest of things that he claimed that only fit her. She still remembered her favorite gift: a necklace that he himself had forged. It had her name, her true name, written in Gallifreyan along with hers. He had given it to her just before the War had begun and what truly made it her favorite gift was that it also had their unborn child's name. At that moment, Renata was about four months pregnant and they had come up with a few names until they had decided on their favorite name. She loved that necklace.

When the Master heard the first blip of an oncoming sob, he straightened away from Renata, pleased with his work. Even when she claimed to have moved on, there was always something that would pull her back to her roots.

Renata? Don't cry. Don't cry, you've done nothing wrong. The Doctor struggled even more to get out of the stupid chair holding him back. It was me. It was always me. Gala? I'm so sorry my love. You don't deserve any of this - you never deserved any of it.

Renata could only bring herself to look at him for a few seconds, showing her reddened eyes in the process. That was false. It wasn't all on him. He never forced her into anything. Her thoughts were cut short by the ringing of a cellphone. Everyone froze and slowly their eyes landed on Wilf since the ringing was coming from him.

"But that…that's a mobile," the Master scowled at the old man.

"Yeah, it's mine, let me turn it off!" Wilf struggled to move his hands with the rope around him.

"No, no, no. I don't think you understand." The Master marched over to Wilf's chair. "Everybody on this planet...is me. And I'm not phoning you, so who the hell is that?" He searched for the phone himself and came across the revolver first. "Ooh, and look at this. Good man!" he waved it at the Doctor then Renata. He let it drop to the ground and continued the search until he found the cell phone. "Donna," he read off the screen. "Who's Donna?"

"Nobody, move on," snapped Renata though the tone she was going for didn't exactly portray the snap. She was still trying to recover from her little episode, but she was not going to let it be the reason Donna was hurt.

The Master answered the call to hear Donna's frantic voice telling him all about the "changed people" in her house and in the streets. "Who is she!? Why didn't she change!?" he angrily demanded to know.

"Well, it was this thing the Doctor and Renata did…" Wilf struggled to remember the right name. "The Metacrisis?"

The Master laughed condescendingly. "Of course. "Oh... He loves playing with Earth girls, huh Ren? You would know."

Renata glared at him. At first, the mere mention of the Doctor with Rose Tyler would set her off. A human girl...but things were so different now. She knew better, she knew humans a lot better. She couldn't blame the Doctor for anything. It was his story and it was a tragic one all on its own without her adding ridiculous jealousy.

The Master ordered his clones to track Donna down. Wilf panicked as the clones did the job.

"You just leave her!"

"I wouldn't do that," Renata, on the other hand, warned calmly. Even the Doctor didn't squirm or try to say something behind the mouth strap on him.

The Master craned his head at the Time Lady, smiling sarcastically. "Why?"

"I just wouldn't."

The clones had found Donna in two minutes but just as they closed in on her, she released golden energy from her head that knocked them all out, including herself.

When the Master looked at Renata afterwards, she was smirking but her eyes flickered past him to the Doctor. He was responsible. He growled and stalked towards the Doctor, pulling the gag off him.

"That's better!" the Doctor opened and closed his mouth in strange ways to get the movement back in order. "Hello. But really, did you think I'd leave my best friend without a defense mechanism?"

"Doctor, what happened?" Wilf asked him. He wasn't able to understand if Donna was truly safe or not.

"She's all right, she's fine, I promise. She'll just sleep," he assured Wilf.

The Master exhaled deeply, forgetting all about the stupid human. She would eventually die on her own anyways. "Tell me, where's your TARDIS?"

The Doctor didn't answer immediately. He stared at the Master in an annoying silence. "You could be so wonderful."

"Where is it!?"

"You're a genius," the Doctor continued to ignore the demand. "You're stone-cold brilliant. You are, I swear, you really are."

"Stop it!" he snapped, but instead he got Renata to join in.

"He's not wrong," she said. "You and Elek would have these conversations that I could never dream of understanding. And you know, most of the time Elek was so inspired by you. He admired your intelligence. What would he think right now if he saw this? Wouldn't it be better to travel together?"

"Travel with the likes of you?" he sneered and looked between the pair. "With the likes of both of you!? Ha!"

"But maybe together, all three of us, we could figure out how to stop that noise inside your head," the Doctor said, truly meaning it. He wants to believe that if the noise was gone, things would be so different. Maybe the Master would finally find peace.

"Would it stop, then?" the Master's voice was suddenly quiet. "The noise in my head?"

"We can help."

"I don't know what I'd be without that noise."

"Wonder what I'd be, without you."

The Master stayed quiet for a moment, almost looking like he was considering such an idea. He'd been with that noise all his life, what would he do if he could truly get rid of it?

"What does he mean? What noise?" Wilf asked them.

The Master was too far in thought to deny the human the answer. "It began on Gallifrey. As children. Not that you'd call it childhood. More a life of duty. Eight years old. I was taken for initiation. To stare into the Untempered Schism."

"But what does that mean?" Wilf continued to ask. He had no idea what the man was talking about.

"It's a gap in the fabric of reality," the Doctor simplified it. "You can see into the Time Vortex itself. And it hurts."

"You get three reactions basically," Renata said quietly. She could see the raw pain the Master held just by remembering his initiation. "You either run away, go insane or you get inspired. Very rarely do you see another reaction."

It didn't take a lot for Wilf to decide what reaction the Master had. Renata knew the Master's story, and she knew the Doctor's story.

Which one were you? the Doctor asked her. He was gazing at her curiously, unable to decide whether or not she was as against the Initiation as the Master was.

A small smile came to Renata's face. I was inspired. I saw the Gallifreyans and how they struggled outside the Citadel. I wanted to help them. It was at that moment that Renata set out to find a way to help the people their city had forgotten about simply because they chose against regeneration. It shouldn't have mattered what they decided. They were still of the same species, the same kind originating from the same world. They should have always been one.

You were amazing even as a child, the Doctor remarked and enjoyed seeing the blush spread over Renata's face.

"I saw the worst," the Master bad turned to Renata, once again sneering at her. "Not all of us could be inspired," he mocked her and moved away. "They took me there, in the dark. I looked into time, old man, and I heard it calling to me. Drums, the never-ending drums."

~0~

Gallifrey.

Two Time Lords were bringing in a Time Lady with a ruddy appearance. Her pale face had bruises and cuts that were still open. Her brunette hair was tangled in knots. She had her arms gripped by each Time Lord and they wouldn't let go until they reached their destination. Twice she had tried to run away and if she could, she would.

Finally, they stopped in the Matrix room where the Assessor waited. She stood on a platform when her sister was brought inside. "There you are." She gave a nod at the two Time Lords to leave them. "Renata, you look well."

Renata's emerald eyes glared at her sister. "Why am I here?" She had just received her newest location to move towards to when all of a sudden she had two Time Lords demanding to take her away, all on orders from the High Council.

The Assessor stepped down from the platform and walked up to her sister. "I have a task for you."

"But I just got a new assignment—"

The Assessor raised a hand - a very clean hand which just angered Renata all over again - to command silence. "Forget it. The Council has assigned you to a much more important duty. Failure is not an option here."

"What do you want?" Renata asked. She couldn't understand why the hell the Council wanted something from her. If anything, they needed to get off their behinds and do something to help them. Time Lords were dying outside and yet the High Council - those snobby creatures - wouldn't leave their protected chambers. They were letting everyone else die, including her.

"We got word that the Doctor has stolen the Moment. And just so we're clear, the Moment has the power to destroy the entire planet along with the Daleks. You are going to find him and stop him from activating it."

Renata nearly keeled over but she didn't because she knew that her sister was playing a joke on her. The Assessor would never want her near the Doctor, not after what happened in the Academy. Centuries may have passed but the anger in the Assessor was still as raw and fresh as the day she found out about them.

"I know you must be confused but time is of the essence. If you don't hurry, all of this—" the Assessor gestured to the room they were in, the room where all of their history was in, as an example of what they were saving, "—will be lost."

"You're not joking," Renata whispered. "You really do mean it. You want me to find the Doctor?" Anger quickly filled her face. "You forbade me from seeing him again! Don't you remember!? You literally threatened me! You blackmailed me! You were prepared to hurt him if I didn't end things! You destroyed my life! And now you want me to go find him? You want me to save you? Do you want me to save the very institution you once said would kill the Doctor?"

The Assessor wasn't phased by her sister's outburst. If anything, she thought it was embarrassing. But her sister was always more...emotional than the rest of their family. She didn't understand that things worked in a specific way and each of them had to do their respective tasks. "The situation calls for it. The Doctor's family is dead. You are the only one who could stop him. He will kill us all."

"No! Absolutely not! You will not use me!" Renata was beyond furious that she shoved her sister away.

The Assessor struggled to regain her balance and sent a dark glare her sister's way. "I advice you not to do that again, little sister." She dusted her robes off, something that made Renata want to throw her to the floor. The Assessor's robes were elegant and clean as was her appearance. She was untouched by the war.

And here she was, demanding for a soldier to keep fighting.

Renata had already been beaten and worn down by the war to hold what little restraints she had to keep herself composed. She had lost everything and even then, when she was so alone, the Assessor never once offered her support. They were the last of their family and yet it didn't feel that way. Renata lost it. "You haven't fought for us! You haven't fought for me! You don't care about anyone! Our parents died months ago and you didn't even check up on me!"

"You were fighting," the Assessor said, her tone still untouched by Renata's spats. "You had a duty, so did I."

"You have no duty! You haven't been out there!" Renata frantically pointed out the door. "People are dying! The children—" she stopped to close her eyes, "—are dying. I saw a whole group of them disintegrated in one second." Tears rolled down her face. "Cece," the use of her sister's nickname was the only thing that made the Assessor shift with actual emotions, "My own child died inside me. It wasn't enough that I lost Elek, I lost my child. You did not care."

"The casualties are part of a war. They are not surprising," the Assessor said, though her eyes did linger on her sister's stomach for a few seconds. "You think that I am not affected by the passing of our family? My own husband died, did you forget? But I have a responsibility and I will continue doing it until my last breath. The same goes for you now."

"You still don't care," Renata shouldn't even be surprised by that, but she always clung to a little bit of hope that somewhere inside the Assessor did have feelings. She did love her family, her. "I've lost most of my lives and you are now asking me to put myself in further danger."

"How many lives do you have left?" the Assessor inquired.

"What—"

"How many lives?" the Assessor demanded this time.

"Three more!"

"How would you feel about a whole new cycle?" the Assessor slowly tilted her head, knowing that she now had her sister's entire attention. "The Council understands your journey is treacherous and they are prepared to grant you a new regeneration cycle. All you have to do is retrieve the Moment from the Doctor."

Renata raised an eyebrow at her sister. They must be really desperate to offer that type of deal. Regeneration cycles were not handed out lightly. There had to be exclusive reasons for somebody to receive a whole new cycle.

And yet everyone was dying.

Maybe...the Doctor had figured out a way to make everything stop. He always knew what to do. A small smile came to Renata's face when she recalled the many times he helped her solve her problems. She hadn't allowed herself to think about him much after they parted ways. But now the Assessor was making her go back to a painful moment in her life. Renata was forced to drive the Doctor away and now the Assessor was taking it back just to save her own skin?

Fury bubbled inside Renata. She laid eyes on her sister and the woman still didn't offer up any emotion. Everyone was dying and she didn't care. The Council didn't care. No more, Renata gritted her teeth behind her closed lips. They shouldn't have had the power they did. Oh, she hated them all. She hated all these people in power who did nothing for their citizens. And now the Assessor was dangerously close to being added to that list.

It's time to end it, Renata decided. She had nothing left. Her husband was gone, her child was gone, her parents. The Doctor had long been gone. The Assessor had never been there. I deserve better.

Renata straightened herself up and walked up to her sister. "I want the cycle first," she spat in her sister's face.

The Assessor smirked.

~0~

Present Day.

"Listen to it," the Master commanded the two Time Lords with him. "Listen." But of course, without a mind connection, neither Renata nor the Doctor could hear the drums...but they now knew that they were real.

"Then let's find it, you and us," the Doctor attempted to construct yet another speech to stop the Master, but a new idea had crossed the Master's mind.

"Oh! Oh, wait a minute! Oh, yes. Oh, that's good!"

"What? What is?" Renata dreaded what he had come up with, although a part of her asked herself what more could he do that would be worse than what he had already done to the planet.

"The noise exists within my head. And now within six billion heads. Everyone on Earth can hear it. Imagine! Oh... Oh, yes!" His laughter was cut short with another skeletal flash struck him. He dropped with a groan.

"The Gate wasn't enough. You're still dying," the Doctor grimly.

"This body was born out of death. All it can do is die," the Master was able to pull himself up after a few minutes. "But what did you say to me, back in the wasteland? You said, "the end of time.""

"I said something is returning. I was shown a prophecy. That's why I need your help."

"What if I'm part of it? Don't you see?" the grin was quick to return to the Master's face. "The drumbeat is calling from so far away, from the end of time itself. And now it's been amplified six billion times. Triangulate all those signals. I could find its source! Oh, Doctor... That's what your prophecy was. Me!" He crouched in front of the Doctor. "Where's the TARDIS?"

"No. Just stop. Just think—"

The Master rolled his eyes and suddenly pointed a finger at Wilf. "Kill him!" A helmeted soldier moved towards Wilf and aimed his gun at him. "I need that technology, Doctor. Tell me where it is, or the old man is dead."

"Oh stop it," Renata frowned. "Why not redirect it at me instead? Maybe you're not the only one with a little bit of power left." Had she been anyone else, he might have had the gun aimed at her but here she was completely unharmed. The mental torture was the only thing he used against her, but never physical harm.

The Master shot her a glare, practically warning her to keep her mouth shut. "I'll kill him, right now!"

"Actually, the most impressive thing about you is that after all this time, you're still bone-dead stupid," the Doctor's calmness despite the situation was the first thing the Master should have noticed.

"Take aim," he ordered the soldier.

He never was smart for the obvious. Renata smiled at the Doctor. He over thought too much. His brother didn't.

The Doctor was able to smile back at her. The Master noticed their silent smiles at each other and scowled. "What us going on!?"

"What I think the Doctor meant to say is that you've got six billion pairs of eyes, but you still can't see the obvious," Renata made a face at him.

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters, you're over exerting yourself - oh!" Renata exclaimed as if she only just remembered the real point they'd been trying to make. "And that guard—" she nodded at the soldier holding the gun on Wilf, "—is one inch too tall."

It was only then that the Master finally gave the soldier a good look, but it only lasted a few minutes before the soldier hit him with his rifle. He pulled his helmet off to reveal Rossiter underneath.

"Oh, my God, I hit him. I've never hit anyone in my life!" He was absolutely stunned at himself, but Addams ran into the room looking primed for the job.

"Oh I know, it gets you the first time," Renata smiled at him with a chuckle. "I never hit anyone—"

"What about me?" frowned the Doctor. "You hit me loads of time in the foundation."

"Yeah, but those didn't hurt. I meant like an actual smack or something. And the war doesn't count either."

"You did hit me hard enough to hurt!"

"I did not!"

"Don't you remember when you threw a—"

"Both of you stop!" Addams cut in to scold the two.

Renata flushed with embarrassment. No one had ever scolded her too. What was going on with this new body of hers? She did not want to be like the Doctor. The universe truly could not handle two of him.

"We need to get out of here, fast!" Addams said, throwing a look at the unconscious Master on the ground. She doubted Rossiter had him hit hard enough to be out for anything more than a few minutes.

Rossiter had untied Renata while Addams untied Wilf. The Doctor proved to be a bit more difficult with the multiple straps.

"God bless the cactuses!" Wilf laughed when he could finally stand up from his chair.

"That's cacti!" the Doctor called.

Rossiter stopped struggling with the straps, quite offended with the two of them. "That's racist!"

"Please don't offend the people who are saving us!" Renata scolded the Doctor and Wilf. There we go, she did the scolding because she wasn't rude.

"This prophecy of yours, Doctor...where did it come from? Doctor?" one of the Master's appeared on the screen behind them.

"Come on! We've got to get out!" Addams told Rossiter, she thought he was far too slow.

"There's too many buckles and straps!".

Addams groaned. "Oh just...wheel him!" Rossiter didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed the chair by the handles and started turning them for the door.

"No, no, no! Get me out!" the Doctor shouted at them. "No, no, don't! Don't! No, no, no!"

Renata ushered Wilf ahead of her but she stopped for a moment just outside the room, smiling - almost laughing - as she heard the Doctor ahead of her, shouting for them to properly release him. Her smile suddenly dropped while her eyes widened. "You are not rude!" she scolded herself before finally running after them.

With all the chaos and running away, the Doctor couldn't get either Vinvocci to listen to him and take them to the TARDIS instead. Even Renata, when she caught up, couldn't get them to change course and she wasn't going to let them take the Doctor either. They would have to come back for the blue box afterwards.

"Not the stairs... Not the stairs!" the Doctor fought to get out of the remaining straps but the stairs had come up and now he was being rocked in all directions. "Worst...rescue...ever!" He only stopped fighting for a second when he heard something strange behind him. "...is that laughing? Renata, you're laughing!?"

Renata caught herself quick and covered her mouth. "No!" she gave the muffle answer and focused on running and nothing more.

The Master had caught them in the teleporting room but despite that, the Vinvoccis were one step ahead. They teleported themselves out of the building, off the planet, and onto their ship.

"Now get me out of this thing!" the Doctor practically ordered while he wriggled like a worm.

"Don't say thanks, will you?" Addams scoffed as she went to help him out.

"He'll thank you when we cut off the weapons the Master still has!" Renata sighed as she hurried to undo the straps on him.

"Oh, my goodness me...we're in space!" Wilf had found the huge glass wall at the end of the room. He could see planet Earth, bright as ever despite what was going on. With a view like this no wonder Donna loved traveling.

"We'll come back to the exciting part, Wilf! Promise!" Renata said just as she'd pulled the Doctor off the chair. From her force, he leaned just a bit too close to her face, not that he cared. He quite liked her new face.

"Come on!" she urged him to remember what they were supposed to do.

"Right!"

Adams couldn't understand what was the huge rush. They were no longer in danger since they weren't even on the same planet as that crazy man. "But we're safe! We're a hundred thousand miles above the Earth!"

"And he's got every single missile on the planet ready to fire!" the Doctor said, making her finally realize the problem.

"Oh. Good point. This way!" she took the lead out of the room. Renata hurried for Wilf who was still taken by the grand sight of space.

"But we're in space!"

"Aha!"

"We've got to close it down!" the Doctor said as soon as they found the controls.

Rossiter gave him a mad look. "No chance, mate, we're going home."

"We're a salvage team. Local politics has nothing to do with us," Addams argued as well. "Not unless there's a carnival. Sooner we get back to Vinvocci space the better!"

"No you are not!" snapped Renata and before Addams could open her mouth, Renata continued to shout. "The whole reason Earth is the way it is right now is because of your stupid machine! If you and your people had been more responsible, this machine would have never fallen into the hands of the humans! Therefore you are responsible and under the rules of the Shadow Proclamation you have a responsibility to help us fix things! And just so we're clear…" Renata pulled out her sonic and used it on the controls, effectively killing the entire power line.

The Doctor was stunned by her actions and her entire outburst as a whole. He was about to do the same thing but that's what he always did. That was no shocker. But Renata had finally come around humans and Earth to the point that she would do anything to help them and save them.

Plus, she looked incredibly good arguing someone's ear off. I love that woman, he concluded with a huge grin on his face. Also not a shocker.

"You've wrecked the place!" Addams was in complete outrage. If she wasn't green, she would've turned red from anger.

"The engines are burnt out!" Rossiter was in a state of panic instead of anger like his co-worker. "Just auxiliary lights. Everything else is kaput. We can't move. We're stuck in orbit!"

"Thanks to you. You idiot!" Addams spat enough to make Renata wince.

Okay, so maybe she hadn't thought it through but if she hadn't killed the power, the Master would've killed them. But, there was still a bit of guilt sitting on her shoulders. She might have doomed them anyways. "I'm sorry," she said as Addams and Rossiter stormed out of the place.

"Hey, you did what I was going to do anyways," the Doctor walked up to her and brought his hands to her arms. He offered her a supportive smile and pulled her into a hug while she struggled to accept the reality.

~0~

Gallifrey.

"My Lord, I have my sister," the Assessor had brought Renata into the main chamber of the Council, though not before cleaning her younger sister up a bit. She would be damned if Renata embarrassed her.

Renata's face had been cleaned up for the meeting and any blood dripping on her had been forced shut with a bit of the Assessor's own regeneration energy. It didn't surprise Renata though that her sister had done that, because she knew that the Assessor only did it to make her 'proper'. Her hair had been forcibly untangled and Renata dared to say it hurt almost as much as each of the cuts and bruises she'd gotten from battles.

"Excellent," Rassilon looked the brunette over from his spot at the table. She didn't exactly return the gaze. This was the first time she walked into a chamber of the Council, and much more she was seeing a Visionary. Hardly anyone saw a Visionary up close.

The silver-haired woman continued to write on her scroll, acting as if she was the only one in the room.

"But we may have found another solution," Rassilon said as he gestured to the hologram of Earth behind him.

"But...that's Earth," Renata recognized the blue-green planet almost straight away. She looked at her sister for an explanation, but even the Assessor was puzzled.

"What doe that planet have to offer us?" she asked, sharpness tinging her tone.

"Our very salvation," Rassilon's tone was even sharper, a piercing that reminded the Assessor of her place. "We have sent a signal. A simple task of four beats transmitted back through time, and implanted in the Master's mind as a child."

"What!?" Renata blinked. The Master always complained about a noise in his head, one that - shamefully - she and her husband never believed in. "You...you did that to him? The endless drumming, he would call it. You're the one who put it inside his head?"

The Assessor gripped Renata's arm, silently telling her to shut her mouth. "Forgive me, my Lord, but what is the plan? I thought I presented one myself."

"The Master is on Earth, in the future, and if we can establish a link then perhaps we can leave the Time Lock."

"But it's just an idea," frowned Renata. "To establish a proper link you would need something physical…"

"Something...so simple," Rassilon agreed and turned away to consider what might do.

"So small and shining, shining bright and cold, the tiny, tiny star, falling, falling, burning, burning, burning," the Visionary babbled on to herself.

The Assessor blinked when she realized what it could be. Her head snapped in Renata's direction, her eyes lowering to the jewel around Renata's neck. Without a warning, she reached over and pulled the necklace off Renata's neck, ignoring her sister's cry.

"That's mine!" she made to take it back but the Assessor raised it over her head. This current incarnation of Renata's was quite petite.

The Assessor ordered for her sister to be taken into custody. "The Master would recognize this straightaway," she walked up to Rassilon holding the necklace in her hand. There was a clear diamond at the end of the silver necklace, one engraved with Gallifreyan names. "After all, he did help his brother forge it."

Renata was in tears as she fought the two Time Lords holding her back. "That's mine! Elek gave it to me! Assessor, please! That's-that's mine!"

Rassilon took the jewel into his hand and examined it briefly before looking up at the Assessor. "Do not fail me," he darkly warned, but the Assessor remained calm.

She was always sure of herself. "I would never."

Rassilon threw the diamond into the hologram. Renata cried loudly for her lost jewel but still her sister did not flinch.

It was a means to an end.

~0~

Present Day.

On the Vinvocci ship, the Doctor worked to get the power back on. Renata helped with what she could but she had to stop when she noticed from the corner of her eye something shiny soaring through space. It was heading for Earth!

"The last thing this planet needs is a meteor," she sighed as she walked towards the glass wall.

Down on Earth, the Master and his clones had pinpointed the impact of the 'meteor'. The clones all searched the crash site until one soldier found something peculiar in the middle of the crater. It glittered.

"It's a diamond, sir," he picked it up as he informed the Master. He scraped the dirt of the jewel to see a clear pattern of Gallifreyan names. A laugh came to him. "Oh... the most impossible diamond. You won't believe this. It's a Whitepoint star!"

The Master had enough laughter to last him a lifetime.

~ 0 ~

Wilf had gotten lost in the ship for a few minutes. It was like a maze and after another odd interaction with a woman he was sure was part of his imagination, he finally found Renata and the Doctor in the main room where Renata had killed the power.

"Aye, aye. Got this old tub mended?" he asked the pair, but they didn't seem so cheery.

"Just trying to fix the heating," the Doctor mumbled while he crossed two particular wires.

"Sorry," Renata said yet again. The heat was off because HE she killed it.

The Doctor, by this point, was more than done with her relentless apology for something that was going to be done either way. "Renée, just stop it."

Wilf took a seat near them. Renata drifted towards him, figuring the heat wouldn't be coming back anytime soon.

"D'you know, I've always dreamt of a view like that," Wilf gave a nod towards the glass wall. No matter how many times he looked at the Earth, it wouldn't stop taking his breath away. It was simply amazing. "I'm an astronaut. It's dawn over England, look. Brand new day." And yet there was no cheer for the new day. He kept thinking about Sylvia and Donna, and everyone else he once knew. "My wife's buried down there. I might never visit her again now. D'you think he changed them, in their graves?"

Renata lowered her gaze, unable to answer him because the answer might not be the one he wanted to hear.

"We're sorry," the Doctor said for him and Renata. He came over to the two and sat down next to Renata.

"It's not your fault," Wilf told them. They were the good guys. They had no say in what the Master did.

"The noise inside his head…" Renata scrunched her face as if something was trying to come to her, "I swear there is something I'm missing. There's something tickling in the back of my head about it. Something that's telling me I'm forgetting something."

"Seven-hundred fifty-eight, something's bound to slip your mind," the Doctor joked only to see if he could get her to smile. He did. And it was so worth it.

"Never say a lady's age," she lightly jabbed him on the side, making him smile now.

"You're how old?" Wilf gawked at Renata. He had to study her face again but even when he did, it didn't make sense. Her new face was younger than the last one she had on.

"You want to hear somebody really old?" Renata jerked her thumb at the Doctor. "He's 906! Yeah, he's old!" She thought she would definitely get the Doctor back with that one, but all he did was smile fondly at her.

He just wanted to see her cheer up for a bit. He still didn't forget the fact she'd died only hours ago and he'd missed it.

Wilf shook his head at the two. "We must look like insects to you."

"I think you look like giants," the Doctor corrected him, extending that fond smile to him as well.

"My perspective on humans has changed in this last 2 years," Renata said with her own warm smile. "And I have Martha to thank, and Gabriela...and Donna." Wilf teared up in that moment as he wondered just what amazing things his granddaughter had to have done in her time up here in space. She had changed so much because of it and Renata and the Doctor. She had been a better person - she was a good person right now but being her other self gave her so much more perspective.

He couldn't let them die now, not on his watch.

"Listen, I... I want you to have this," he took out his revolver and held it at the pair. "I've kept it all this time, and I thought…"

"No," the Doctor said calmly. He expected this to come up sooner or later.

"No, but if you take it, you could…"

"I couldn't," Renata confessed. For all the harm the Master had done to the Earth and herself, and the Doctor, she knew she wouldn't be able to end him. She wouldn't even try to fight it.

"You had that gun in the mansion. You could have shot the Master there and then," the Doctor pointed out to Wilf.

"Too scared, I suppose," Wilf said, lamenting his courage.

"I'd be proud," the Doctor suddenly said, starting a new thought.

"Of what?"

"If you were my dad."

Wilf did a double take at the Doctor, waiting for him to take it back or laugh it off. "Oh...come on...don't start!" The Doctor smiled wider at him, but when he did it reminded Wilf of what was coming for him. He didn't deserve that. "But you said...you were told... he will knock four times, and then you die. Well, that's him, isn't it, The Master? That noise in his head? The Master is going to kill you."

Renata tried her best not to react but her body flinched. It was an automatic response to such a horrid thought. She leaned on him, not even noticing it with all the thoughts that ran through her head. "I wouldn't let him," she whispered.

The Doctor put an arm around her, having heard her perfectly well. He gave a nod to Wilf's question and that was all Wilf needed to try and hand him the gun again.

"Then kill him first."

"That's how the Master started. And it's not like I'm an innocent," the Doctor started off on grim note, not that he could help it given his track record. He always knew what he'd become, but he would get by because he would push it away. He wouldn't think about it. "I've taken lives. I got worse - I got clever. Manipulated people into taking their own. Sometimes I think a Time Lord lives too long. I can't. I just can't."

"But there's a difference," Renata raised her head off his arm. "The Master likes it. He likes what comes with death. You don't. And you know what? None of us are innocent. I'm certainly not."

The Doctor studied her eyes for any trace of doubt, a doubt for her words that she'd just said. Not too long ago he believed that she would be angry with him for what he did to their planet. Even as she denied such accusations, there was always a part of him that wondered if she was truly sure. It was no secret that she longed to be back on Gallifrey, who's to say that she wouldn't change her mind about him one day?

"If the Master dies, what happens to all the people?" Wilf thought to ask after taking another look at the planet.

"I don't know."

Wilf didn't buy that answer. "Doctor, what happens?"

"...the template snaps."

Wilf blinked. "What, they go back to being human?" He couldn't believe his ears, nor his eyes when both aliens nodded at him. Here they were lamenting the human race's current situation and there was always that one solution!? He was a bit angry now, properly angry. "They're alive and human? Then don't you dare, sir. Don't you dare DARE put him before them. Now you take this, that's an order, Doctor. Take the gun! You take the gun and save your life! And please don't die!" The tears got the best of him, but how could he calm down? He had done so much for their planet and now some man was going to kill him dead? And the Doctor wasn't even going to fight it! That simply couldn't be. "You're the most wonderful man and I don't want you to die!" He forced the gun onto the Doctor's hand and closed his fingers over it. "You take it!"

But the Doctor still refused.

Renata shut her eyes, wishing everything would just stop. It had to stop, right? One way or another. But he might die. She shuddered a breath.

Maybe it's my rightful punishment, the Doctor's voice filled her mind. He wasn't looking at her, he couldn't. His gaze had become glued to the glass wall out of guilt. I went too far on Mars and I...I've done too much harm. Maybe my time is up.

Renata reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. Only one of us should have to regenerate and I already did it. There's no reason why you need to follow.

Before the Doctor could respond, the Master's voice came over the speakers. "A star fell," his tone was mocking, or at least getting ready to mock. "It fell from the sky. Don't you want to know where from? Because now it makes sense, Doctor. The whole of my life. My destiny. The star was a diamond. And the diamond...is a Whitepoint star. And you, my dear Renata, might know about it considering I helped my stupid brother forge it." Renata's body jumped up from the floor on instinct. Her hand immediately went to her neck. "And I have worked all night to sanctify that gift. Now the star is mine. I can increase the signal and use it as a lifeline. Do you get it now? Do you see? Keep watching, Doctor. This should be...spectacular. Over and out."

"Renata?" the Doctor cautiously got up and turned the woman around.

Her eyes were widening, as if she was just realizing something. She rose her head with a mouth hanging open. "Oh Doctor...it's my fault. It's my fault."

"What? What does that mean?" Wilf got up as well, but he couldn't understand why Renata was so mortified all of a sudden. Neither could the Doctor.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. A Whitepoint Star diamond was only found on Gallifrey…

"It's coming back to me! The-the thoughts! I-I buried them so long ago - that's my Whitepoint Star! The Assessor gave it to…" Renata swallowed hard as a lump had appeared in her throat. The tears were filling her eyes quickly. It was coming back to her in a rush. "She took it from me, Doctor. She pulled it off me…" her shaky hands found her neck, ghosting the place where her beautiful Whitepoint Star had once hung long ago. "They stole it from me! And now they're coming here! The Time Lords are coming back!"

The Doctor couldn't make sense of everything Renata was seeing but she was letting her mind fully open to his and so he could see the same rush of images she was getting. The Assessor, Rassilon, the Whitepoint Star…

The Assessor had yanked it off her sister and handed it over to Rassilon.

Renata screamed and jumped for her necklace to be returned, but it was too late. It was far gone…

Until now.

A deep fury coursed through his entire body in that moment, a fury that went for so many people on that planet. He didn't know how much of it went to the Assessor, but it was a big one. He turned away from Renata and picked up the gun from the floor as he stormed out of the room.

"What happened? I don't understand," Wilf tried to calm Renata down, but the Time Lady was weeping.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor ran into the control room where Addams and Rossiter were still trying to make the necessary mends to get them home. He went straight for the comms and turned all communications back on. As soon as he did, everyone began to hear the four beats.

"What's that?" frowned Addams. What else could go wrong now!?

Rossiter checked the computer for the information. "Coming from Earth. It's on every single wavelength."

~ 0 ~

Gallifrey.

Renata was sitting on the ground over her knees, much too exhausted to keep crying and thrashing. Her sister had once again proved that she loved nobody, not even her own family.

"Contact! At last!" Rassilon exclaimed, making Renata raise her head. Everyone seemed content with the results, including the Assessor. She was smirking, like she had planned the whole thing.

Of course everything would turn out fine. She had made sure of it, just like always.

Rassilon strode out of the room, prompting everyone else to do the same. The Assessor walked after the group but instead of leaving with them, she stopped beside her sister on the ground.

"You took one of the last things I had from Elek," Renata said, her voice strained from her sobs. She gazed ahead but at nothing in specific, she was just lost. "Ripped it right off me like it didn't matter…like he didn't matter."

The Assessor said nothing as she bent down in front of Renata. She put a finger underneath Renata's chin and turned her head to face each other. "Renata, it didn't. A Time Lady must do what is expected of her. You had the means to help our people and you did. You did your duty."

Renata seized the Assessor's finger under her chin and shoved it away. "This was not to help our people," she snapped. "It was to save you and the Council, to those in power."

"Our people," the Assessor said again, making it obvious that she didn't see anyone else below their class as part of their kind. "Cheer up, Renata. You still have the locket." She barely touched the golden pendant around Renata's neck. "I didn't take it all from you."

"Yeah you did," Renata whispered. "You took it all away."

The Assessor's face went flat when she realized Renata wasn't talking just about the White Dwarf Star. "I saved you," her voice was low, warning Renata not to try and argue that matter with her again. "Because of me you had a life fit for your class. The Doctor would have ruined you."

"And now you're here, asking me to go back to him."

"And you will do it if we need to. Mother and Father raised you to always do whatever was asked of you. Never forget who you are, Renata," the Assessor straightened on her feet and ordered the Two Time Lords with her to make sure Renata did not move.

Author's Note:

The Assessor is, uh...sort of...mean? But at the same time she's kind of stupid for not seeing that Renata is going to double cross her in the end. (Go Ren, scam them!). Also, the next chapter is the LAST chapter of this story *sniff* I'm kind of sad about that. I've had this story for a long time now .

Random but since it's Halloween, and I frikin love Halloween, feel free to drop suggestions for any halloween one shots with Avalon!

P.S As always, I have a tumblr account dedicated to my fanfic works! It's a place where anyone can comment about a story or even just talk to me! I often drop aesthetic work belonging to my stories too! Feel free to check it out, my URL is "noble-crescent" and the tag I created for any posts having to do with my work is # noblecrescentedit.

[elyvorg]

Consider the following scenario: Around chapter 3, Tenko comes to Kaito to ask him to help Himiko. How do you think things would turn out? -As in, do you think the two could become the motivational buddies of Shuichi, Maki and Himiko?- (Also you're literally the only person I can ask this to, and thank you for providing such detailed Kaito content)

Aww, you're welcome! I'm thrilled to be considered the go-to source for Good Kaito Thoughts. (Though this is going to be at least half Tenko and Himiko thoughts, of course, and I don't profess to be as much of an expert at that, but I'll do my best.)

(also whoops, this got long, probably should go under a cut)

First, this'd need a couple of prerequisites: that Kaito's phobia doesn't exist so he isn't non-functionally mentally ill for most of chapter 3, and that Tenko's degenerate males thing is toned down a touch such that she's willing to acknowledge that Kaito is a good person and ask for his help with relatively little hesitation.

(This is sort of like what happens canonically when Tenko gets desperate enough to stop Angie's ritual that she asks Maki and Shuichi for help, and would have included Kaito if he'd been feeling well. But in that case, it was definitely more about "Angie is dangerous and might cause a murder if we don't stop this", rather than being specifically about helping Himiko. And I also get the sense that if there hadn't been at least one girl involved then Tenko maybe still wouldn't have asked them.)

Would This Work?

So, if we assume that, A, Tenko was even more focused specifically on helping Himiko than she already was in canon, and, B, was willing to ignore her prejudices and swallow her pride enough to ask Kaito for help, (and C, Kaito wasn't mentally ill and was able to help), would Kaito's input have been enough?

The thing is, Tenko was pretty much already doing all the right things to try and help Himiko in the first place. She'd recognised that the problem was Himiko struggling to express her emotions and had been trying to encourage her to do so, including suggesting physical training. This is a lot like Kaito's type of approach! There isn't that much that Kaito would have done differently to how Tenko did it. Him lending his input to this would mostly just have resulted in doubling the amount of enthusiastic persistence directed at Himiko, which... since Tenko being such an overwhelming personality was probably part of why Himiko didn't respond to her for so long, that might actually make things slightly worse on its own.

That said, Tenko was also not helping things by having a lot of her interactions with Himiko be unnecessarily overzealous romantic come-ons, which just made Himiko less inclined to want to listen to her in general and meant Tenko had given herself more of an uphill battle when it came to her genuine selfless attempts to help. I'd think the best thing to do about this would be for Tenko to apologise for having sometimes made things about her and make it clear that the most important thing to her right now is helping Himiko and this isn't about Tenko at all. However, I'm not sure if this is an issue that Kaito would actually properly pick up on in order to suggest that Tenko do this.

See, when it comes to understanding what a potential sidekick's struggles are and the best ways to help them overcome them, Kaito is great at it and seems to put a lot of conscious thought into it - but that's the part Tenko was already perfectly good at, too. When it comes to the process of reaching out and offering that help in the first place to encourage someone to begin to change, however, Kaito appears to pretty much just instinctively wing it, with no particular game plan other than "be persistent" and, maybe a little more specifically, "invite them to training". So I don't know if he'd necessarily have any better ideas than Tenko herself had of how to go about this - except, of course, for inviting Himiko to training.

Kaito's whole training thing really is a very effective way of getting through to someone in the first place. While the exercise itself is only tangentially connected to the actual point of self-reflection and emotional growth (especially in Maki's case), it's the directness of Kaito's approach that makes all the difference, because it prevents the potential sidekick from failing to notice or pretending not to notice that he's trying to help them. Just the fact that Kaito makes it a whole Big Thing where he very directly says, "I want to help you, this is how I'm doing it, if you want to get stronger then all you gotta do to take the first step is do some push-ups with me" presents the potential sidekick with a very obvious choice to make over whether they want to face their issues and try to change. In that position, anyone who really does want to change deep down is almost certainly going to take him up on that, whether or not they've been brushing off his other, less "official" attempts to reach out and help.

So maybe Kaito inviting Himiko to training, with Tenko alongside him backing up what he's saying - or leading the speech, even - about how this is all to help her, would indeed have got through to her. There are hints that, towards the end of chapter 3's daily life, Tenko has begun to make Himiko quietly wish she was more willing and able to listen to Tenko's advice. So it appears that the initial desire to change was already there in Himiko - it just sadly took Tenko's death in canon for her to actually acknowledge it.

However, there's also the massive spanner of Angie in the works here. With Himiko being brainwashed into clinging to Angie's escapism as an unhealthy coping mechanism, she was getting a free ticket to take the easy way out of her problems and run away from feeling like she needed to really change. If there had been no Angie in canon, Tenko would probably have been able to get through to Himiko while she was alive without even needing to ask anyone for help. But with Angie being a factor, even if Tenko and Kaito combined forces and invited Himiko to training to very directly present her with the option to change, I really kind of think Himiko would have just refused. She'd have been able to tell herself she doesn't need to change when she's already got Angie and Atua.

Tenko would be dismayed, but I think Kaito would get it. His sidekick thing can only work on people who want to change. Kaito can nudge and persuade, but he can't force people to make that choice; they have to ultimately do it of their own volition. If Himiko really isn't ready for this, there's nothing else Kaito can do. So he'd probably end up advising Tenko to just be patient and keep an eye on Himiko, letting her know that she's still there for her and the offer's still open if she ever changes her mind.

...And then case 3 would happen and Angie and Tenko would die and Himiko's arc would proceed roughly as it did in canon anyway, bleagh. Except for the fact that Kaito would have a lot more personal investment in this, because even if she never quite became his sidekick before, the fact that he extended that offer would still be important to him. I doubt he'd want to just leave her now that she has made the choice to change, even if she doesn't specifically need his help for it any more, and so he'd probably invite her to training in chapter 4 after all, despite the painful lack of Tenko.

(While we're here, let's talk a little about why Kaito never actively tried to make Himiko his sidekick in canon. Presumably, during the first three chapters, it was mostly out of seeing that Tenko was already kind of trying to work on that herself, and then that plus the whole Angie thing meant that Kaito didn't think it would be a good idea to butt in when he'd only get in the way. Then the reason he never invited Himiko to training in chapter 4 when she'd lost Tenko was perhaps because Himiko didn't actually need any extra nudges like Shuichi and Maki did at the beginnings of chapters 2 and 3; she was already going full-throttle and had firmly begun to make her efforts to change. ...That and, by that point, Kaito must have been mentally exhausted just looking out for two sidekicks while also suffering from and hiding his own problems, so he probably didn't really want to increase his burdens even more. Not that he'd have ever admitted that.)

If This Worked

But hey, never mind the fact that my conclusion to the question of whether this'd work is "probably not, thanks a bunch Angie", let's also think about what would happen if this had somehow worked anyway. A five-person team of training buddies sounds pretty adorable, after all!

(...Well, for this to last for any appreciable amount of time, we'd need Kiyo to not up and murder Tenko like an asshole, please. I guess it's possible that if they'd already got through to Himiko before Angie's death, she wouldn't have felt the need to talk to Angie with the seance and Tenko wouldn't have died? I dunno; that might be something Himiko would still want to do for closure even if she was already expressing her emotions more healthily. Ugggh Kiyo sucks. The only meaningful purpose he serves in the story is because someone had to kill Angie and Tenko for the sake of Himiko's character development, so if Himiko's development was going to happen anyway without those deaths, can Kiyo just not be here at all, please? Please? Or be someone slightly less shitty who murders just to escape and therefore stops at Angie.)

But anyway, yes, this five-person training team is fun to think about, because Kaito and Tenko really have a lot in common and it's a shame Tenko's prejudices mean they never get to interact much in canon to show this off. They're both so very Good in terms of their general overzealous enthusiasm and determination and desire to protect people. Tenko is also surprisingly like Kaito in that, though she seemingly needs to literally Aikido throw someone to do it, she can be pretty good at reading people and picking up on their struggles (even - gasp! - if they're male).

That said, Tenko doesn't make a point of going out of her way to help anyone who needs it like Kaito does, not even just among the girls (she sees Maki as a threat at first), and it's only because of her massive crush on Himiko that she also gained a selfless desire to help her. Still, maybe her collaborating with Kaito on this could help her learn that she's actually really good at motivating people in this way and it feels rewarding even when the target isn't her crush, making her want to use her skills for this more in future!

(Imagine if, in an effort to understand her better and see why Kaito believes in her so much, Tenko politely asks if she can Aikido throw Maki to get a read on her. She'd be kind of wary about what Maki would do if she did it without warning, after all.)

Plus, Tenko is also a big advocate of the idea that physical training can help someone with mental problems, just like Kaito! She might even have a slightly better idea of an actual systematic approach to training than Kaito... but then again, maybe not, because her Neo-Aikido does seem pretty haphazard. So we'd probably end up with these two ridiculous dorks who have no idea how to run a targeted exercise regime just throwing their enthusiasm all over the place and probably bickering and being competitive while they were at it, and poor Shuichi, Maki and Himiko would just have to try and keep up with them somehow. That'd be... quite the spectacle. (Maki would wryly comment that it's like having two Kaitos when one was more than enough... but she wouldn't actually mind.)

Naturally, I also find it interesting to think about how Kaito would be affected by this, especially since, while Shuichi, Maki and Himiko would all be considered his sidekicks, Tenko would be something more like a "co-hero" alongside Kaito in this arrangement. There's a lot of potential inherent in the idea of Kaito forging an important relationship with someone who's not a sidekick to him. If a friend of Kaito’s who was in the position to properly view him as an equal was also emotionally mature enough to see what he's doing wrong and point out that he really needs to talk about his own problems too, that would Change Some Things. However, as much as she'd be doing her best to help, and even if we assume her gender prejudices just didn't get in the way here at all, I... don't think Tenko's that person.

(Can you tell this is something I've thought about quite a bit, albeit never with Tenko. Imagine if Kaede had lived and she and Kaito had teamed up in their mutual desire to support everyone - they'd also have been great influences on each other, stopping the other from getting too self-destructively selfless.)

(Though, hey, what if Tenko Aikido threw Kaito at some point, probably more out of boisterous competitiveness than trying to get a read on him, except then she suddenly realises, "wait a minute, you're sick, what are you doing training them when you should be looking after yourself?" And his sidekicks kind of can't help but agree with her despite his attempts to deny it, because Kaito definitely looks to be in more pain than he should be from that. And then they escape and save his life, like they always would have if they'd known. Man, if only.)

Also, even though Tenko is nominally someone else in the "hero" role here, I can't quite see Kaito's unreasonable standards for heroes kicking in towards her. This is just an instinctive sense I get that I'm not completely sure of the reason for - perhaps because of the way Tenko initiated this by asking him for help? So she kind of is like a sidekick to him, too - just a sidekick in the specific art of being an inspiring and encouraging hero. Man that'd be so confusingly not-black-and-white to Kaito, a lot like Shuichi is to him in this regard as well. What do you mean she's both at the same time??? That’s not how this works!!!

There's also the fact that Himiko would be a sidekick alongside Maki and Shuichi (whether or not Tenko died), which might change things a little for people other than Himiko herself. Maki would be watching Himiko work on trying to express her emotions in a context that's being paralleled with the struggles Maki's trying to overcome. So maybe this could have got Maki to more consciously think about expressing her own emotions, which is something she has difficulty with too after having repressed them for so long, but that she doesn't precisely ever make quite such a conscious effort about in canon like Himiko does.

Also, if we assume that Kaito's issues are relatively unchanged and trial 4 still goes basically the same as it does in canon, Himiko being his sidekick could make a difference for early chapter 5. In canon, when she's not even his sidekick, Himiko still indicates that she's thought a little about Kaito's feelings and what he might be going through, as well as just how his behaviour is making Shuichi feel. But if she'd been actively a part of that sidekick group and had seen first-hand how Kaito's sidekicks - namely Shuichi - look up to him and learn from him, Himiko in particular would have had the capacity to potentially piece things together and figure out the real reason Kaito was avoiding Shuichi. After all, she's been in exactly the same position as Shuichi is here. (This is about my hot take on Himiko's FTEs that I discussed in one of my commentary posts, which I still enjoy thinking about. Kaito has parallels and connections to so many characters in this story and it’s great.)

[fairycosmos]

Hi C, I'm in a really dark place rn esp bc of quarantine, so I'm probably not gonna make it these next few months sadly, sorry to lay this on you, but I just wanted to say this before. I relate alot to you about many of the personal/emotional things you talk about in your asks and your blog brings me comfort when I decide to come on here. I'm shy so sometimes I reblog the stuff you reblog from the source haha. I hope you learn to feel truly happy and that you never get to my point. Love , V x

hey, this seriously breaks my heart to read 😞 i’m not stupid enough to believe that anything i say will be enough to absolve you of the weight you’re carrying. clearly you’re dealing with a lot of pain and mental exhaustion, maybe to an extent i cant even imagine. so i know words from a stranger aren’t any kind of solution. but i have to try any way because i care about what happens to you, and i want you to know that you’re not in this all on your own. maybe i could be a mediating presence. maybe all that matters is having some time to pause. to give yourself another perspective to consider so it’s not just your mind trying to convince you that it’s all so black and white. cause it’s not, i promise. you can be 100% certain, in this moment, that these next few months will be rough/ impossible to survive - and still make it through them anyway. a sense of impending doom is not always accurate, nor is any ‘helplessness’ you see in yourself. and when you have depression, most of the time those perceptions are wildly inaccurate. it’s coming from the same place as all of the other toxic thinking processes: the self hatred, the shame, the anxiety. it’s not a reliable or factually concrete basis to act on. look, everything i talk about in my asks, i believe whole heartedly to be true for you, too. i dont say these things lightly at all. especially when i bring up how mental illness distorts your reality and your ability to make an accurate judgement of your future, and even more so when i talk about all the different types of treatment that are out there and that really do work given the time and effort. even if they’re not immediately available to you right now, just simply surviving through each day will eventually get you to a point where you can begin confronting your issues and growing beyond them. just as people do with physical ailments, the same is possible for mental ones. you can cry, you can want to give up, you can be numb and hurt and not know what to do next. as long as you make it to the next moment. if you need a little help to be able to do that, then that’s fine. most people do. there are many hotlines still open, online communities offering support, mental health professionals working from home that you can contact. even if you have to force yourself to. if you’re already seeing someone, you can call them any time and let them know you’re struggling. then maybe you can set up a plan together, to enable you to manage the heavy thoughts/emotions when they flare up instead of being overwhelmed by them. if not, you could call a friend or loved one if that’s an option just so you have someone to vent to. i’m sure they’d rather you do that than hurt yourself. a lot of ppl are feeling the strain of this isolation, but that doesn’t mean we can’t stay connected in other ways. it doesn’t mean we’re beyond help. it’s okay, whatever you need, it’s okay. i know it seems like bull shit, and i know it doesn’t feel worth it right now. i completely understand, i’ve absolutely been there too. but i would hate to see you permanently harm yourself, or worse, over an episode (that has been significantly worsened by quarantine) that can be worked through. you cant trust your mind right now, or the urges you’re having. i dont want to give you all the cliches about how there’s so much waiting for you, about how suicide is an extreme solution to a temporary problem. i get that they’re annoying. but part of me does believe all of those old sayings, at least a little bit. you can recognize that you’re in a dark place right now, and that it’s being exacerbated by current circumstances, and thats a really good sign. it means some part of you know there’s more beyond that, that improvement is both possible and in some ways, inevitable. whatever ‘point’ you think you’re at, you’re not. you’re not a lost cause. you didn’t survive everything so far, for nothing. so please, please don’t get lost in the notion that killing yourself is a guaranteed act, because it’s not. it’s easy to believe that when you’re spiraling, but spirals always come to an end, through self awareness or natural progression or medical attention. listen, you’re here and you’re trying and that is quite literally the entire point. you’re worth so much, and so is your life. i couldn’t be more proud of you, and i want you to stick around so that someday you’ll see it for yourself. i’m really glad i was able to bring you some comfort. it makes me want to cry that you sent this and that you’re thinking of me. so know i’m thinking of you too. that so many people care for your presence even if you dont know it. please reconsider, please try to regroup and look at your options. if you want to talk, dont hesitate at all to message me. i know you said you’re shy, but so am i! and i can relate a lot to what you’re saying. i’ll be here. take it one day at a time love, and if that feels like too much, one hour at a time. even a minute at a time. the rest doesn’t exist yet. im sending you so much love, and my dms are always open. get some sleep, eat well, find something you enjoy that allows you to breathe, - a view from a window, a tv show, a memory, laying in bed. not a cure,  i know, just a small reason. and then for now, keep going. whatever that looks like for you. i believe in you so much x

[theliterarywolf]

2019′s Animation Hidden Gems

So, another year has come and gone. And, in regards to animated content, we had a sizable smorgasboard of offerings both on the mainstream end and the Indie scene. 

I figured I would go over some of the ones that caught my eye that I don’t see many people talking about or, if they are talking about them, they’re focusing on shitty e-drama rather than the content in of itself. 

So, let’s begin!

... Just going to use a ‘Read More’ break due to the length of this post as well as spoilers for certain things within.

Tuca and Bertie

So, we’re just going to acknowledge the fact that Netflix’s cancellation of this show before it even had the chance to hit its stride (which coincidentally timed in with the team behind it, the same team behind Bojack Horseman, getting the rights to unionize -- but I’m sure that’s just a coincidence~) was one of the shittiest things they did this year, right? Right. 

Anyway, Tuca and Bertie was one of those shows that, while it took me a good few days to finally watch it (due mostly to Netflix burying this show underneath those damn Ted Bundy movies and that fucking Beyonce concert/documentary/what-the-fuck-ever), was definitely a front-runner for adult-centered animation this year. 

While the wacky animation styles can sometimes throw initial viewers off, by the time the series is halfway through you’re fully engrossed in how it helps to tell the stories this show wants to focus on. 

While, yes, the show was a little heavy-handed in one of the early episodes about women in the workplace (that whole scene of Tuca screaming obnoxiously in the board-meeting to signal that no woman had spoken in 30 minutes was kind of grating even though the message is sound), the series as a whole is a great change of pace in regards to having adult animation centered on/aimed towards women. The characters work great together, the sound design works wonders, and Netflix cancelling this show despite they themselves not promoting it is such a damn crime. 

My personal favorite part/episode: While the episode “The Jelly Lakes” was a great, poignant display of showing Bertie opening up about her past trauma and sexual abuse, the episode that I always resonate with during rewatches of this series is “Plumage”. The way that it tackles not only reconciling with addiction but emotional/psychological abuse and how it often comes from sources that are on the outside beneficial hits so close to home. The fact that it was handled with tact and respect while still being in this wacky world of talking bird-people was amazing. 

Sound and Fury

I... am just going to come out and admit it, my brain still hasn’t 100% wrapped around the ‘what does it MEAN?!?!’ aspect of this animated album but, damn it all, is it a feast for the ears and eyes. 

I honestly can’t talk about it too much because half the enjoyment comes from watching it for yourself.

My personal favorite part/episode: I can’t quite remember what the song’s name was, but visually it was the section that focused on the homeless veteran basically being left outside to die while the city is about to be decimated by a nuclear bomb. The fact that the segment shows everything, right down to how the cat he tries to rescue agonizingly burns to death when the bomb hits, has stuck with me.

Love, Death + Robots

Well, you guys didn’t think I was going to let 2019 pass without me gushing about one of my favorite animation anthologies of the year, did you? 

Seriously, I am so glad that Netflix has greenlit a second volume for this project because it really is the type of stuff I like to see: collections of vastly different stories using different mediums and styles. 

While two of the entries aren’t as strong as the others (”The Witness” and “Ice Age” freaking suck, don’t @ me), the bulk of the anthology is immensely strong and well-executed and no amount of people whinging about ‘myeh, it’s too sex-filled and violent~’ is going to ruin that. 

My personal favorite part/episode: The segment “Suits” still takes my award for best in show, but I still like the series potential of “Shapeshifters” and the attempt at cosmic horror in “Beyond the Aquila Rift”. 

Satellite City

I hate, hate, HATE that my initial exposure to Sam Fennah’s creative world, much like other people’s first exposure, was via that DAMN Nostalgia Critic review for The Wall!

But, in all seriousness, Fennah’s web-series as well as the book that he’s been working on are so excellently crafted. 

The character design: I’ve gushed so much about the character design that doing so again here would be a crime. But it really is wonderful seeing monster designs that think ‘monstrous’ first and ‘marketability’ second. 

The voice acting: everyone in here does an exceptional job with their performances and giving life to not only the characters but the world surrounding them. Seriously, they’re all amazing and I can only hope that their talents are showcased in other projects. 

The animation: the fact that it’s all done and rigged by one person is awe-inspiring enough but the way that Fennah works to make sure that the characters don’t stick out too much from their real-world sets is incredible. 

The writing: It would be so easy for a series like this to stick to wacky hijinks, violence, and toilet-humor, but no. We have excellently crafted, mature dialogue, we have incorporated world-building that doesn’t rely on exposition dumps, we have diction that rivals some of the commercial hyper-hits of the current year.

Seriously, I wish that more people watched this series; it’s so good..!

My personal favorite part/episode: This relies on some spoilers, but I have to talk about what I think the highlight of the series. While the episode “Slice of Life” gives a good display of the core cast in a day-to-day setting with Lucy Lacemaker giving an incredible monologue about the nature of life and immortality at the end, no where else does the work behind the craft of Satellite City shine more...

Than in Episode 20 - “The Order of Things”. Satellite City centers around the Kivouachians, a species of unworldly creatures who have been around for billions of years but, due to war and betrayal, lost their homeland and have been scattered across the Earth. 

During this war, many died, many were punished, many were tortured, and many were left to deal with horrific trauma and PTSD. 

While this episode has the connecting tissue of informing others that the series’ antagonist has escaped her prison, it also centers upon the heavy issue of destructive, toxic relationships and how people can let themselves waste away and decay just because they can’t find it in themselves to let go of something that may ‘make them happy’. 

We also get a dialogue from Lucy Lacemaker about the nature of art and imitation, but it’s simply the cherry on top of the sundae that the prior themes build up. 

... Seriously, j-just go watch the show; put has-been critics out of your minds and just go appreciate this series for what it is.

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss/Holidaze

God, I can only be in awe of and respect Vivienne for getting to the point that she has gotten to. Two well-received animated pilots, an adorable holiday special, industry ties, and a portfolio that surely can fill two phone books at this point. 

Seriously, though, Hazbin Hotel is great: an adult animated show with an interesting art style, engaging characters, and a world that I really want to see more of. 

Helluva Boss is great too! That show has a more intimate cast and less insanity so if the barrage of visuals in the prior turned you off, then the latter would probably be more your cup of tea. 

Finally, Holidaze is fucking adorable. It boggles my mind that people were getting upset at this special for coming out and doing something different when most complaints against HH and HB were ‘ugh, she really can’t do anything aside from “offensive people in hell are offensive because HELL, lol”’. Well, here you go! Something wholesome and cute and heartwarming!

Some people just want to bitch and moan, I swear...

My personal favorite part/episode: See, here’s where it gets tricky. I love the feeling I get from Holidaze. I love the characters from Hazbin Hotel. I love the setting/premise of Helluva Boss. 

But I wouldn’t want all of those things crammed together. 

So, all in all, VivziePop and her colleagues have done an amazing job with these shorts and I can’t wait to see what 2020 has in store for them.

Dororo (2019)

Look, man! I get it, okay?! When it comes to anime where the main character in a feudal-era Japan setting goes around killing demons, everyone and their grandma was gushing over Demon Slayer. 

And, you know what? Demon Slayer is a good show; it has really good animation and Nezuko is best girl. 

... But fuck ALL OF YOU who slept on Dororo (2019), man! I get it, Amazon having the streaming rights to it made it all sorts of awful to try and keep up with, but even so this show was way too ignored by people.

Which is a damn shame because in regards to revamping classic anime IPs, this is right up there in ‘damn, they actually did a good job’ along with Casshern Sins and Devilman Crybaby.

My personal favorite part/episode:

... Have I mentioned that the theme song for this show is an absolute BANGER?!

That’s all I have for now. I still have yet to watch things like Klaus and I Lost My Body, and I was unfortunately unable to watch Promare due to not having the funds for it when it was in theaters, and -- Oh my fucking GOD, I’m just now finding out that Netflix has Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie after trying to find a way to legally watch it for ages. 

But I hope that I was able to introduce some of you to some animated pieces that got a little overshadowed this year. 

Here’s hoping for more amazing stuff to grace our eyes in 2020!

[janeofcakes]

KYFC..: Chapter 16

Thank you! Thank you, everyone for your support and kind words. It’s been a rough week for a variety of reasons and just when stress was the highest, I got another curve ball. Gotta love that, not to mention your very own Cakey Jane using baseball metaphors. Haha. Anyway, I’m hoping things get better and that you all like the chapter. It has also been a source of anxiety for me and I’m a little hesitant to post it. Thanks to MyBAB, who keeps me on my toes and sometimes adds to my stress.

Here we go. John is on his way back to Detroit to hand in his resignation. No good can come of this. 

---

You didn’t have to cut me off. Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing and I don’t even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger and it feels so rough.                                                                                           --Gotye, Somebody That I Used to Know

Sherlock’s toes tap anxiously on the floor of his office. He can barely keep still, with no practice or even a team workout day, there is little to occupy his mind. Strategy, analysis and new plays usually fill his entire being on post-bout rest days. He certainly has enough work to do, but all he can think about is John. John, navigating the airport with Janine, getting onto the plane that will bring them home. Transporting her to the hospital after they land and settling her into their usual wing. He should soon be in the stadium where Sherlock can see him and make sure with his own eyes that John is well and truly safe. God, it will take everything in his power not to throw his arms around John or leap into the doctor’s arms and wrap his legs around the shorter man’s waist and never let go. Sherlock has spent a shameful amount of time thinking about such a scenario and has complete confidence in John’s ability to bear his weight.

He glances at the wall clock and eyes the red seconds hand as it drifts smoothly around the twelve, ticking off another minute. It is nearly 6:30 in the evening and Mike had sent a text when John left the hospital around 5. He should have been here long ago. The tapping of his toes increases as he continues to think through the day. He had texted John regularly in search of status updates and if he’s honest, because he simply wanted to hear from him, but had received precious few responses from the doctor and every one was brief. It might concern Sherlock if he did not know John more than had his hands full.

Even so, it does concern him. Why is John being so distant? Has he reconsidered what happened between them in Baltimore? Sherlock’s heart sinks as he plummets into the dark hole of doubt he keeps hidden deep inside his mind palace. John has had the time and space to regret it. He probably did go back to the Poe House for the scarf and their tour guide greeted him with it. She would flirt with him and he would respond in kind. Under the impression that John was interested, she had only come on to Sherlock so shamelessly to get John’s attention. A very odd strategy to Sherlock’s way of thinking.

He stops here to consider whether or not John was actually interested. He didn’t seem so inclined, but she was precisely his type, so it was possible. She clearly enjoyed sport. Anyone could see that from the scuffs on her shoes. Her deep love for baggy sweaters, something Sherlock has never understood, would draw them together as well. Add to that her bubbly personality and John couldn’t help but notice her a second time around. John probably went back for the scarf, wearing that absurd oatmeal-colored sweater he likes so much that does absolutely nothing for his figure, and she complimented him on it. They started talking and went to dinner, spent the evening together. Maybe John invited her back to the hotel for drinks and…

Sherlock stops again, closing his eyes and shaking his head like it will shake the thoughts free from his mind. He claws at the walls of doubt, trying to climb back up and escape, but the dirt crumbles in his fingers and he slides down again. He climbs desperately for what feels like hours and grasps at anything he can to pull himself free when he reaches the top. He opens his eyes to see he is still in his office, his laptop still open in front of him and the clock quietly ticking away more time. His gaze shifts around the room as if searching for something to settle on while he tries to think more rationally once again. Practically, John will go back to his own apartment, but there is no reason to believe he is out of danger. The lack of further attempts on his life means nothing. 

Sherlock does not want him to leave regardless. 

He buries his face in his hands and yawns wearily. Sherlock absolutely cannot think about that again. He sighs and opens his eyes, looking at the clock again. He couldn’t even begin to think about sleep the night before and never bothered going to his bedroom. The condo felt cold and lonely without John. Instead of doing anything productive, Sherlock sat in front of MST3K until he fell asleep on the couch somewhere in the middle of Catalina Caper. He awoke hours later, stiff and grumpy until he realized a text from John had been what woke him.

*In the cab heading for the airport. Things are looking good. Janine is not in pain.*

That was at 6:45am, since then there had only been infrequent updates. John would not even engage in conversation when they were on a god awful layover in Chicago. Honestly, why everything has to go through O’Hare is beyond all logic. Still, it is only a day of travel and should not worry Sherlock in the least, but it does. He looks at the clock again and stands to pace, stopping only when his phone suddenly rings. He grabs it quickly and raises it to his ear. The three seconds it takes him to glance at the caller ID and see it is not John slow into minutes, the very air around him crushing the hope right out of his chest. 

“Greg,” he answers gruffly, resting one hand on the desk as he leans against it. 

“John’s on his way to your office,” Greg replies without bothering to greet him. “He’s re…”

Sherlock doesn’t even let Greg finish as he abruptly ends the call when his door is pushed open without warning and John is suddenly standing before him. 

“Sorry. Can I come in?” John’s voice is rough and uncertain.

“Of course,” comes an equally soft reply from Sherlock.

Sherlock watches him move deliberately toward the desk that separates them, only just keeping his own eyes from widening in surprise. John does not look tired from the day of travel and stress. He looks beyond tired. He looks wrecked. There is a stutter in his step and a look in his eyes that can only mean one thing: What transpired between them in Baltimore weighs heavily upon him. Sherlock’s heart sinks for the second time in mere minutes.

“We need to talk,” John avoids looking at him directly. His gaze darts around Sherlock’s desk almost frantically before settling on the stapler. 

Those dreaded words. Sherlock said them to Victor once years ago.

“Yes,” Sherlock rasps, barely able to speak. He is glad Greg phoned him before John walked in so he could face the doctor from behind his desk. He could never make it through this conversation otherwise, his knees already threatening to buckle. He rests both hands on its surface and leans forward. “Greg mentioned it,” he says as evenly as he can.

“He told you?” John looks at him in shock. Trying to appear as normal as possible, Sherlock clears his throat and stands up straight to face him fully.

“He said you were on your way to my office,” Sherlock answers, frustrated that his voice is not his own. Wobbling at the most inopportune time imaginable when he would rather it be steady and reveal nothing. Sherlock takes a breath and tries to use the frustration to his own advantage, trying to compose himself for John’s next words. Trying and failing.

“Oh. Right,” John bites his lower lip and clearly steels himself. Every part of his body says regret. Sherlock closes his eyes slowly. He does not even try to stop himself from doing it, from showing his own emotions. He is too unguarded around John, too comfortable. He never should have let it get to this point or any point. Sentiment. He is such a fool.

“I’ve resigned,” John’s voice is barely above a whisper.

“What?” Sherlock wheezes, his eyes snapping open wide in shock.

“It’s for the best,” John states firmly, looking directly into his unabashed stare.

“No,” Sherlock’s voice sounds strange even to his own ears. He blinks as if trying to focus and closes his mouth with a pop. He feels like he is going to wretch. Staggering backwards, he nearly trips over his chair, but catches himself on the armrests and pushes himself back up. John’s hands reach out instinctively to stop his fall, but stop when he rights himself. They look at one another for a moment with searching, uncertain eyes.

What is going on?

But John doesn’t answer this time. Instead, his blue eyes turn to ice.

“You just have to trust me,” his voice hardens with his eyes.

“You can’t leave,” Sherlock’s words are coming faster and he doesn’t try to slow them down.  He doesn’t care that it lays all his cards on the table or that his body language shows every bit of how he is falling apart.

“I’ll do what I want, Sherlock,” John nearly hisses, slamming his hands flat on the desk in anger. A plain, wooden pen holder falls to the floor and pencils roll under the desk.

“No,” Sherlock insists, tone bordering on desperation. He must stay calm. He cannot let his panic or frustration get the better of him. John is not going to listen if he flies into some kind of crazed, emotional outburst. Sherlock squares his shoulders and takes another deep breath. “You are an excellent physician. The team needs you. I know you haven’t been here long, but you have done so much. All the ladies trust you implicitly. And, frankly, so do I.”

He almost flinches. He sees something in John’s eyes, a glimmer of happiness that says what words cannot. When something means so much there is nothing to say. It fades right before his eyes. John’s shoulders fall as if under a crushing weight and Sherlock’s mind is awash with thoughts and feelings. 

I trust you. I need you. I don’t let anyone in, not like this, but you opened the gates as if you always had the key. What happened, John? Tell me, please.

“John, I…” he can’t say it. He can’t risk it.

“Sherlock, I can’t. I just can’t,” John sighs, shaking his head. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“No, wait,” he rushes around the desk, but stops abruptly before reaching John, trying to gather himself. He must stay in control. He casts his gaze sidelong and curses his own feelings before looking back at John. “However you feel about me, about...what happened between us, don’t let it hurt the team. Please, John.”

He tries to keep his voice even, but it shakes slightly on the last two words. John stares at him with a startled expression on his face. Sherlock’s sturdy posture wavers as he watches John.

“How I feel about you,” John repeats in dismay, but goes quiet before saying more. He presses his lips into a thin line, affecting a grim countenance and shaking his head. “I have resigned. I’ve told Greg and now you. I’ll tell Mrs. Hudson tomorrow, put it in writing tonight. It’s done.”

Sherlock’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He takes a sharp breath, his eyes on John. How can he make him stay?

“I’ll start cleaning out my office after I speak with Martha,” John continues and then sighs heavily. He touches his own temples in a pained gesture that makes him look more exhausted than when he walked in. “I’m going back to my place tonight. I’ll get my things out of your flat tomorrow evening. I’ll ring you, so you can leave while I’m there.”

“John, no!” Sherlock truly is desperate now and doesn’t give a shit about hiding it or anything else. Fuck staying in control. God, how has everything gone so terribly wrong so quickly? “In Baltimore, what we did, what happened. We can forget it. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he pleads with the man in front of him. If John wants him to, he can lock away all those memories and never touch them again. He has done it before. It will rip him apart this time, but he can do it. They can go back to being friends like before and maybe John would stay in the condo. They could be roommates, just roommates.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” John bites out the words vehemently.

Sherlock can’t stop a quick gasp and silence settles in around them. He can feel his face starting to crumble, his heart starting to fall apart, but just manages to hold his composure so he reveals nothing. All he allows is a mighty crease of his brow and the twitch of an eye. They are not together. They were never together, never a couple. His heart should not be shattered, but it is. It should not feel like his life is ending. John had warned him about this exact scenario. He said he could not love anyone romantically and, even if he could, why would he give his heart away after so little time had passed? He isn’t a complete idiot like Sherlock.

“Sherlock,” the name whispered between them catches his attention, even when he would rather look anywhere but at the man before him. 

Sherlock’s grey eyes, filling with tears he will have to blink back, shoot straight to John’s face. The doctor is clearly beside himself, but trying to hide how undone he is. Somewhere in the background of his mind Sherlock knows that does not make any sense. The evidence does not fit the situation. John should be emotionless or even angry about Sherlock’s display, not anguished.

“Sherlock, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course it means something. It means…” he shuts his mouth and swallows hard. “It’s Moriarty. He wants to win it all and he’ll do whatever he has to.”

“What?” Sherlock squints in confusion at this sudden outburst of seemingly unrelated information.

“You are right, Sherlock,” he tells him emphatically, stepping forward and placing his hands on the coach’s shoulders. “Keep looking for evidence and watch out for...others.”

“Others?” Sherlock shakes his head slowly. This is not at all what he expected, not by a long shot. He finds his mind shifting from his own panic and sadness toward this new mystery. Part of him tries to stop it, knowing he should stay focused on John, but he cannot. John’s words begin running through his mind over and over again, trying to piece it all together and it takes only seconds for it to fall into place. Something happened while John was in Baltimore alone. It scared him. Moriarty got to him. 

“What did he do?” Sherlock hisses.

The words are out before Sherlock even has the chance to think. His voice is quiet and deadly serious, demanding an answer, but John continues as though he did not hear him.

“It’s Janine. She…” John is warring with himself and if Sherlock was not so distracted with his own thoughts, he would already know exactly what John is trying so hard not to tell him. “Watch everyone! Don’t trust anyone,” John insists again. Suddenly his hands are off Sherlock’s shoulders and he is heading for the door. Sherlock cannot process what just happened or what John said and didn’t say because John is leaving and he can’t. He can’t!

“John, don’t go! Don’t go!” Sherlock lunges forward and wraps his fingers around John’s wrist, holding it with unrelenting strength. “Please, I can’t do it on my own.”

“You’ll be fine, Sherlock,” John says into the space between them, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Yes. Fine, but I don’t want to be fine. I don’t want to be anywhere without you,” Sherlock’s words are coming fast, faster than he can think and he has to think faster. John can’t go. He can’t let him go. 

“I need you,” Sherlock whispers, unshed tears obvious in his voice. 

Sherlock does not know if he said that out loud or in his head. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care what he says or reveals. John has to stay. He can’t lose John.

“I love you! I love you,” he blurts in a ragged tone.

They stare at one another. Sherlock is breathing hard, chest heaving. He does not take his eyes off John, his shoulders bobbing up and down less and less as his breathing returns to normal. His mind finally catches up with his traitorous panic and instantly rebukes. Idiot! But he ignores it and repeats quietly. 

“I love you,” his voice is clearer now. Calmer and more collected as his overactive mind comes to rest. He is stating the truth and has never felt more free. 

***

“You...you...you can’t,” John’s voice rasps, his eyes wide in shock and disbelief. He shifts his weight and furrows his brow, a little frown of lines appearing between his eyebrows. Pressing his lips together, he studies Sherlock intently, searching his eyes. “What? You, what? No. No, Sherlock, just no.”

John shakes his head harder with every word that leaves his lips. He tries taking a step toward the door, but the long fingers already wrapped around his wrist tighten. He looks down at those fingers and then back to the coach, seeing a determination that tries to hide pain.

Fuck. Fuck! 

He’s hurting Sherlock. He hadn’t meant those words to sound the way they did. He’s fucking up the whole thing.

“That’s not what I meant,” he begins, but flails. “You… You haven’t known me five minutes. These things take time, feelings take time to form, don’t they? Sherlock, you don’t know me,” he pleads.

“I have not known you long, true,” Sherlock licks his lips, looking at John like he is a spooked deer, “but can we agree that I know you well?”

John does not answer, too shocked to speak, but he nods in affirmation.

“Good. That’s good,” Sherlock inches closer. 

John keeps his gaze on those grey eyes. He could get lost in them, swim in them for hours. He will never tire of them, or of this man. It is all too much and not something his brain is used to handling. His feelings for Sherlock are so strong and he has no idea how to feel about that or what to call them. John does not feel this way about people. It is not that he doesn’t care, he just…

‘I do believe he cares for you.’

“Is there anything in particular that you are hiding from me?” Sherlock asks over Moriarty’s voice in John’s mind. His eyes focus in again.

“Well,” John swallows, “no. I mean, apart from the not falling in love thing and I told you about that. ’Course I would have thought that’d send anyone running.”

“It hasn’t,” Sherlock’s voice is soft, but steady and his grip loosens slightly. He takes another small step closer.

“So I see,” John replies slowly, full of hesitation.

They stare at one another for a long time, each one willing the other to understand what words cannot say. Finally, Sherlock breaks the silence.

“I know I’m not qualified to explain this. Molly has always been far better at it than I,” Sherlock puffs out a breath, a wrinkle of concentration appearing between his eyebrows. John bites his lip and watches the man search for the right words, marveling at how adorable he is and trying not to show it. “She tells me to follow my heart. It’s not a precise science.”

Sherlock stops suddenly, his face full of doubt.

“Look, what I said, it doesn’t have to mean anything. We can forget it,” Sherlock shakes his head, trying for nonchalance and failing.

“No,” John interrupts, taking his own step toward the taller man. They are very close now. He watches Sherlock with a steady gaze, finally feeling the befuddlement lift. It is like stepping from a thick fog and he can finally see the man more clearly. “We can’t. It means too much. It means...everything.”

Sherlock blinks his eyes wide. They sparkle and shine, and John cannot take his own off of them. He wants this man like nothing else in his life. It is not just sexual desire and is not like caring for a friend. John most certainly does care, but it is so much more than that. It is confusing. He still has no idea what to call these feelings or how to handle them. What should he do? What is he supposed to think? It is completely and utterly baffling.

John swallows and lets his lips part, his gaze locked on Sherlock’s face. It falls quickly to the soft, full lips that John felt against his own only two nights ago. They dropped kisses on his neck and body, hot and wanting. He is sure his eyes must be dilated, his face and neck flushing. John shuffles closer and takes Sherlock’s free hand in his own. He can feel Sherlock’s breath on his face, warm and welcoming. John wets his lips and tilts up on his toes as Sherlock bends his neck down and their lips meet.

The kiss is gentle and sweet. John still does not know what this baffling feeling is, but he tries to put every ounce of it into this perfect kiss. It flows through every part of his body and into Sherlock and back. This kiss, it has to be perfect...because it has to be their last.

“I’m sorry,” John pulls away. “I can’t. I can’t stay. I can’t do this.”

“John,” Sherlock’s eyes snap open, his face rife with despair.

“I can’t,“ he pushes Sherlock away with enough force to knock him back two steps. John feels it in his chest suddenly and winces. The pain of his heart clenching and then trying to defenestrate from his body through any window it can find only to thunk into his chest cavity and fall lifeless and defeated. Resisting the urge to clutch at the nearly unbearable pain, John shakes his head and tries to concentrate. He avoids Sherlock’s eyes.

“I don’t know what it means, Sherlock,” he declares in frustration, not even aware of what he is saying until his mind catches up. “I don’t understand it or how I feel about it, but it’s all… It’s exactly why I have to go.”

“To protect me,” Sherlock ventures as if he already knows exactly what Moriarty said to John and only needs confirmation. 

“Yes. No!” John looks at him in growing panic. He can’t say anymore, shouldn’t say anymore. He risks Sherlock’s life with every word. He needs to leave. He never should have come. He should have gone to his flat and phoned Sherlock to tell him all this.

John turns for the door, but Sherlock grabs hold of his arm and yanks him backwards. John twists to free himself, but just gives the lanky-armed bastard more to lock claws on.

“Let me go,” John glares at Sherlock’s hand and then meets his gaze again. He repeats himself in a low, dark voice. “Let. Me. Go.”

Sherlock does not obey the command and the part of his brain works through every strategy, every bout, seems to have kicked into overdrive.

“You’re afraid of Moriarty,” Sherlock is saying now and goddammit, John has already killed him.

“No, Sherlock! Let go,” John lurches forward, taking the coach with him. He has wrapped his long limbs around John like a snake and any attempt to escape results in tightening coils.

John lurches again and they slam against the door. Rolling them against the wall, John pins Sherlock with his body and tries to wiggle free. When he succeeds in getting an arm out, Sherlock pushes off the wall and sends them tumbling to the floor. John comes down with a crack, the coach atop his body. Sherlock takes advantage of the split-second pause John needs to get his bearings, quickly straddling his hips and pushing his wrists to the floor with his hands. Though the two men are very similar in strength, the force of his weight and the fulcrum created by his height play in Sherlock’s favor.

“Sherlock, get the fuck off of me!” John shouts, thrashing this way and that.

“Talk to me, John! Tell me what’s wrong,” Sherlock insists, struggling to hold him still. “Please don’t shut me out.”

“Get off!” John huffs angrily.

“We can do this together,” Sherlock implores.

“No!” John shouts.

“Tell me why you’re doing this because this isn’t you,” Sherlock is begging now and it is tearing at John’s heart.

“It’s too dangerous!” John blurts, already hating himself. He wrenches his arms from Sherlock’s grip and twists his body into a roll. Unfortunately, the bastard just uses the momentum to roll John onto his back again. He looks down at the doctor and grumbles in frustration. John can feel it rumble through his chest. He tries to continue the struggle, but his heart is severed and bleeding out. John is exhausted. He wants to stay with Sherlock forever, but protecting him means leaving. He squeezes his eyes shut and doesn’t try to stop the moisture in them from slipping out.

“Tell me, John. Please,” Sherlock’s voice is low and gentle. It pleads and also demands. It is that voice that makes John stop trying to free himself. That soothing voice coupled with gentle hands tracing a path down his chest.

He raises his gaze to look at Sherlock, beautiful and panting. John’s hands come to rest on Sherlock’s thighs and another tear slips from his eye. He lets his body relax as he loses himself in those eyes, swirling and deep. Greens and blues merging with grey, all focused on John. They can see into John’s mind and pull free the worry and fear. 

John tilts his head to the left and looks at Sherlock thoughtfully. Warm fingers cup his cheek, a thumb wiping away a tear that slowly trickles down. John closes his eyes again and leans into the touch. He can still see Sherlock’s face in his mind’s eye, smiling like he has a secret only the two of them know. His lips part as he bends forward to whisper in John’s ear:

“He threatened you...forcing you to resign...we’ll do it together...you’re not alone...never alone…”

“Sherlock,” John gasps, opening his eyes and seeing that the two of them are now side by side facing one another on the floor. When the hell did that happen? His eyes were only closed for a moment. Sherlock is looking at him, searching. Had he asked a question? And then it hits John with the force of a truck. 

Alone.

John had felt it deep down in his bones when Bill died, the crushing sense of being truly alone. It took a long time, but he had moved on. At least, he thought he had worked through it and left those feelings behind. Now John can see that he only hid it from himself. Somehow, over the years, especially since his parents died, he convinced himself that alone was better. Alone is what I have. Alone protects me. No real relationships, no love, or close friends. Nothing to tie him to anyone and then coming here turned his life upside down. He likes the skaters, genuinely. And Greg and Martha and Sherlock. He likes Sherlock? No, it’s more. So much more and something he can’t even begin to understand.

“He threatened you,” John finally says in a soft, breathless tone. He meets Sherlock’s eyes and cups the man’s face with both hands. “He will kill you. If I stay, if I tell you anything about why I’m leaving, if I do anything but resign and go, he’ll kill you. You’re too important to me, Sherlock. You’re...I…”

John trails off as his voice gives out. He has no idea what to say anyway, and no idea what he even wants to say. He wants Sherlock to know, to understand how he feels, but he is not sure himself. What he does know is that he has put Sherlock in grave danger. He has killed him with his words.

“God, what have I done?” John mumbles as he releases Sherlock’s face and covers his own eyes.

“He’s lying,” Sherlock’s voice books no argument.

“What?” utter confusion showing on John’s expressive face as he uncovers it.

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Sherlock sits up and offers his hand to John, who takes it and pulls up to sit with him. “If I was a target, he would have made it known by now.”

“And you’re willing to risk your life on the strength of that?” John asks incredulously. 

“Yes,” Sherlock answers simply. “He wants me to witness his victory. To feel the defeat knowing I have done everything possible to stop him and failed. That is what Moriarty wants.”

He leans close to John and covers his hand where it rests on the floor between them. 

“He won’t hurt me,” he smiles softly at John.

“I wish I could believe that,” John says, resigned. 

“It’s true, John. I’d stake my life on it,” Sherlock promises. 

“You are,” John snaps louder. Incredulous disbelief racks his body, making it restless and twitchy. He wants to put his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders or around his arms, but sort of gestures aimlessly between the two of them instead. “I can’t believe you’re being so blase about this. We’re talking about your life!”

“And Molly’s and yours,” Sherlock finishes, watching John with razor sharp eyes. With this one look Sherlock makes it clear just how seriously he takes it. “And every skater on our track. You help keep us all safe and alive when we are all at risk. Think, John, think!”

He grasps John’s arms hard, his eyes intense and completely focused on the doctor. John knows exactly what Sherlock is going to say and it is a sound argument. Can he really step away from the team knowing the danger they are in?

“Molly would be dead without you! No one else would have seen what you did in time to save her. That’s why Moriarty wants you to walk away,” Sherlock sounds so sure.

A thought unbidden pops into John’s mind and it sets every gear turning in the opposite direction. How likely is Moriarty to honor their agreement? Rock City and its coach with no doctor…not likely.

“You are a complication, John. An unknown variable. He will tell you whatever he needs to to make you go. He. Is. Lying,” Sherlock pauses to really look at John and, for the first time since Baltimore, John opens himself to the man - mind, body and soul. Sherlock’s mouth falls open at the sudden contrast and John almost wants to giggle, in spite of himself. The quippy coach, brilliant and ever unruffled in post-bout interviews, is speechless. John wants to kiss him. He wants to pull him to his body and kiss those ridiculous cheekbones, his forehead and nose, cheeks and eyelids. God, this man. John has no idea how to understand the depth of his feeling for this man.

“You’re right,” John nearly gasps, the air heavy with emotion. He swallows hard. Swallows down the desire to forget it all and just be with Sherlock. “Whether you’re on the list or not, he’ll keep to his plan. My leaving just increases the danger.”

John nods as he speaks, more to himself, but agreeing with Sherlock nonetheless.

“Exactly,” Sherlock says sensibly. His expression is a bit smug and smacks of ‘There is no other way to view it, John’.

This time the doctor almost does smile, but holds it at bay. There is one more very important thing he must say to the infuriating man before him. John reaches for him quickly, cupping his face in between his hands. Sherlock’s cheeks are warm and soft and perfect on John’s palms. His thumb strokes a cheekbone of its own volition. John looks deeply into those grey eyes. Flecks of green and blue sparkle back, telling him everything, every secret of a man normally so guarded.

“So help me, Sherlock, if you are wrong, I don’t know what…” John’s voice hitches and the words are gone. His tone was a raspy whisper said all in a rush and he thought he could make it through, but welling emotion got the better of him. He swallows hard and tries again.

“I don’t know what I would do,” he drops his head.

It’s true. It may be ridiculous, but it’s true. John has never needed anyone, not since Bill and his parents were gone, and that was fine. He built up his walls and did his job, lived his life and then in walked Sherlock Holmes and it was just....fate.

Words suddenly fill John’s mind, reverberating off the walls of his skull. A song he has not heard in years. Not since he watched a certain movie with his mother. It was the last one they saw together.

I’ve grown accustomed to his face. He almost makes the day begin.

How many times has he felt that way as he walked into Sherlock’s kitchen to see him standing by the stove, making those special eggs?

“Oh god, Sherlock,” he breathes, a tear streaking down his cheek. “I want you in my life. I want you forev…”

John bites his lip. Keeps in the word.

Sherlock watches him with soft and shining eyes. He sighs and tilts his head in John’s hands as he closes the gap between them. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips, Sherlock breathes against John’s mouth and then tips his chin down to rest their foreheads together. 

“I will always be by your side, John. Always,” he promises and for the first time in a long time, John believes those words wholeheartedly.

---

Yay!! Yay, Jane, you have taken mercy upon us! John tried, he did, but lying to Sherlock was too much for him AND he’s that much closer to seeing his true feelings for Sherlock. How great is the moment when Sherlock just  blurts it out? “I love you!” and he doesn’t try to take it back. He just lets it be. John’s reaction is the greatest too. “You...you can’t. You haven’t known me five minutes.” Hahaha! I love it! I mean, I’m clearly biased so please let me know what you think. I don’t want to beg, but I’m not above it and it has been a bad week. Any encouragement is more than welcome and VERY appreciated. You all mean so much to me. I’m going to be honest. The next couple weeks could be hard and I may not get the next two chapters out on Sundays, but I’ll do my best. Please be with me in spirit. I will definitely be with you. Until next time, my friends. I love you. Jane

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