#either way i see gwen leaving this with someone attached to her.. knowing her it might not be cami tho

[pleaseputnamehere]

i see someone voted for my girl gwen and i respect it. she needs someone to believe in her while i'm not even supporting her during this (jay sweep)

[langfield]

do you think vinh was actually in love with safi? i know he starts doubting that he ever was in chapter 5, but if he wasn’t actually in love what do you think his true feelings for her were? emotional attachment maybe? on safi’s side, i think it’s interesting how even after knowing about vinh’s statement about maya she still decides to hook up with him for a time (only to eventually stop sometime prior to the game?? maybe they had another falling out idk). their relationship in general is just very fascinating to me lmao.

god, the safi-vinh dynamic is certainly one filled with intrigue because of all the intense emotions attached to the people within it ; aimed at each other and also at the bystanders whom haunted around their not so defined relationship. there’s just so much baggage attached to them, you know? mostly painful things and a general sense of betrayal or regret, creating a potion of this general wishy washy bullshit that’s hard to parse through … more so in safi’s case than vinh’s, but i’ll touch upon that later! as for your question about vinh and his true feelings, well.

maybe he was in love with safi once upon a time. maybe the fact he believed that he was in love with her is really all that matters. i suppose it depends on what your definition of romantic love and utter devotion is. it’s undeniable he cared fiercely for safi, enough so to become jealous of max ( safi’s object of obsession ), swear off serious relationships in hope she’d want him back, and to engage in a general meddling within her life to make sure she comes out of situations as unscathed as possible. i mean, he schemes to steal a cow skull and then proceeds to throw it through her windshield in an attempt to save yasmin’s and safi’s relationship … it is very extra of him to do, in fact it’s a literal crime, and the game has both max and safi acknowledge the intensity of said action in episode four. we see the memory of the hedgehog he proudly displays on his desk, the carelessness in which safi treats it, her ‘i’ll buy you another one if it breaks’, and how vinh simpers beneath that offer because he doen’t want a new one, he wants this one, the one safi gave him : a gift that was likely unprompted, some sort of surprise maybe, given to him on a whim and cherished better than any other possession he owns. we also see how he breaks it when she dies. then there’s photos upon photos of safi on his phone and it’s implied he takes pictures after they sleep together and -- that isn’t even touching upon how he practically gives up on himself after her death. the mask drops, he starts trying to branch out and find acting gigs elsewhere, wanting to leave caledon forever, and there’s a sense of raw anger and loneliness he feels when she’s gone. he stops hooking up and pushes everyone away besides max, whom he clings to, and it’s a lot, right? there’s love there. obsession, probably. in many ways he’s still the ‘puppy’ following safi around like gwen said, only without maya this time. he waits and stews and he wants, certainly, for her to love him … but was it purely romantic love? who’s to say!

i think vinh wanted safi as his girlfriend before, maybe when things weren’t so tense, and he still believed that fiercely even when he stopped wanting it. i don’t think he knew where his feelings started to dwindle into something less excited and more resigned, or when he started looking for someone else. his priority remained with safi and with yasmin and thus there wasn’t a lot of time to dissect his heart, a rather vulnerable act he already struggles with anyway. he’s a repressive sort of man. he doesn’t do a lot of introspection because he has an act to maintain, a reputation to follow. but i do believe that by the time double exposure takes place, vinh’s love for safi has indeed shifted because his attraction to max veers on something that isn’t purely sexual. there is an undeniable interest, both in dead and living world, that he’s either embracing or squirming away from … i do not think vinh had many crushes at all when he was in love with safi. i don’t think he allowed himself that luxury, because he didn’t want to move on from her, or put himself off the market in case she wanted him again, in bed or in some profound, loving sense. lots of waiting. lots of surrendering, ‘she’ll come around, we’ll make up’, and hoping despite himself. so his romance with max proves to me that vinh is somewhat right in saying ‘or i thought i was’ when talking about safi and being in love with her, because he was before, but he isn’t exactly in love with her now, if that makes sense? i’d say an emotional attachment is a good title for what they have by the time of the games events.

( i do not wish to diminish vinh’s feelings, but i also think there’s a case to be made that he was rather desperate when he thought himself in love with safi ; there was a lot of insecurity within him back when he was a student, weighed down by the fact he was poor and not your standard run-of-the-mill white man … as an adult he scoffs at his acting abilities and wields his power as head of abraxas with a rather tight fist, as though it’s the only control he’s ever had before. it’s rather clear his only two friends were safi and maya and that vinh hasn’t had any since them -- was desperate to stay on their heels despite the fact he was never really apart of whatever they had. it’s not a stretch to speculate that vinh was, perhaps, a cocktail mix of loneliness and desperation rather than strictly in love with safi. maybe confused his all-consuming need to be around her as desire, or maybe just enjoyed feeling wanted by safi enough to mix his wires. after all, why was it safi he was in love with and not maya? vinh also uses sex as a means of coping, as seen by his rather active sex life in game via hookup apps and reggie, so maybe his sex with safi was just that. coping. in it’s own way. regardless, he did love her, or so he thinks so, and to me i think that’s enough, speculation aside )

safiya’s side of things is much more difficult than vinh’s, who is more obvious about his feelings towards her than he thinks he is. there are some brief contradictions, like how it’s stated that safi doesn’t care for vinh ( which is true ) and yet she also acknowledges that when she split apart and lost herself, all that was left of her was moses, lucas, gwen, and vinh. we know that moses and gwen matter to safi, or mattered, and that at one point safi might’ve admired lucas … so where does that leave vinh? if she doesn’t hate him like gwen or lucas now, and if she doesn’t cherish him like moses or max, why is he still apart of her? what does that mean? is it just a metaphor for their times with maya, and how safi will always be connected to that past with vinh because of her love for the caledon’s personal dead girl? was her sleeping with vinh about maya too? or did she actually care for vinh once, albeit weakly and casually, and did that fleeting moment of affection count when she vanished into everyone who’s ever thoroughly affected her life? and, as you said, it’s so fascinating that she hooks up with vinh at all post maya death … it feels strange and odd and unlike her. even in their intimate picture together after fooling around she is nothing but angry, disinterested, her underwear and bra are already back on ( if they were ever off at all? ) and while that’s on account of safi just hating photos, i also think it’s a testament to how irritable she finds vinh’s presence when stuck in it. it’s not a happy photo really, even vinh’s expression is a little red-eyed, forced, like he was likely wasted the night prior. i wouldn’t be surprised if safi was only able to be with vinh if she was … you know … literally out of her mind drunk or high or what have you.

though, that’s just speculation of course. my vague take on things is that safi went to vinh whenever she was partied out or if she was feeling particularly destructive that day ; choked with self loathing over her mom or maya and so sex with vinh was a means for her to feel even worse. some sort of self harm, some sort of outlet where she could be particularly cruel and evil without consequence, because vinh would take it and roll over -- could even be her way of controlling things too, like vinh with abraxas, because we know vinh has no issues with being led around in the bedroom, so that’s some food for thought. i don’t think she thinks about it after or remembers it much … she really doesn’t think about vinh unless it suits her or if she needs to. i always notice how, in episode four, safiya immediately knows what max is talking about when she asks if safi’s ever transformed into amanda, gwen, or lucas. she owns up immediately, confesses, and understands intimately what situation max is referring to. but when max asks about vinh and the phone, there is a brief moment where safi just stares blankly at her -- like she’s thinking about it, like she doesn’t even remember, before it finally clicks after a beat. either she wears vinh’s metaphorical skin a lot ( which, to be fair, she does pretend to be vinh a lot in game ) or she literally thinks of him so little she’ll forget everything about him in minutes. both are likely! she doesn’t even recall what type of alcohol he likes, calling it bougie japanese brandy ‘or whatever’ … and can’t be assed to remember his phone’s pin number exactly, only vague details about a magician scientist that she clearly thought was boring and lame when vinh told her said story, if her hostility and complete forgetfulness is anything to go by. for me, it’s easy to get caught up in a ‘safi did care! she had to!’ angle about vinh, although the game repeatedly shows you over and over again that she does not. she doesn’t even care that max kissed him really, if anything, she’s more jealous of vinh being with max given some of her remarks :

( i know, technically, safi’s ‘come again?’ is more nervous than jealous per se … but there is a certain air to it, especially given the ‘i can be your new boyfriend’ comment as seen above lol. if she loves max and doesn’t care for vinh, i can only imagine how she’d feel about their romance in particular! )

and, of course, there’s that part in episode four where safi can disguise herself as vinh in order to tear lucas a new one. i enjoy that part for many reasons! seeing how safi feels so much more comfortable in someone else’s skin than her own is fascinating and makes for good foreshadowing … but there is also the reveal of her opinions on vinh, unabashed and shameless, when she is finally giving him an ounce of thought :

it’s interesting! she doesn’t care for him, really, doesn’t loathe him like lucas or gwen or her own mother, but there’s a level of vitriol regardless. she thinks him fake. she thinks him a coward. she thinks he’s scared of facing consequences and that he only acts in his own self interest and she hates every bit of that. while safi can confess to doing maya wrong and hating herself for it, she never allows vinh that same courtesy. even says as much to max, claiming that only she had the humanity to regret her choice while vinh apparently didn’t. and yet … she doesn’t hate him? doesn’t feel strongly towards him? he’s still apart of her, a large part, and she can get along with him fine on crosstalk if she so pleases and she can hate his guts but, when the raw truth is revealed, she apparently feels nothing towards him at all? it is fascinating to think about is all. how she doesn’t wish him dead but doesn’t care if he’s alive either despite everything they’ve been through, even though she hates gwen and lucas and her mother more. it’s rather mean, though that’s what makes it so complex and interesting. it shows that safi only ever cares ( and oh, does she care fiercely, obsessively ) for a very slim group of people, and that when push comes to shove, everyone else can fend for themselves for all she cares. she would protect moses and max in a heartbeat, without thought, and the piece of her within them tries valiantly to keep them safe by locking them away from the world ( another thing to dissect, certainly! ), but she doesn’t really extend such empathy towards the innocents caught in her crossfire. she may be tormenting lucas and gwen specifically, but everyone else was going to be collateral damage and safi was fine with that. at least a little bit. vinh falls in that category of inevitable damage, i think, despite their closeness and despite their history, and you can tell that’s what really wounds him at the end of things. safi couldn’t even torment him, didn’t have the want or energy to do so, he was valiantly apart of her and safi didn’t even care about that. very interesting! it’s also heartbreaking in many ways to see two people who should’ve been able to lean on each other, who should’ve loved one another, be nothing but strangers at the end of things. an example of how tragedy doesn’t always bring people closer. sometimes it drives you worlds apart from the one you should be grieving with, which can be seen in other life is strange games, most notably with chloe and joyce, i think.

anyway! tldr : it’s complicated and worth exploring. there are many ways you can interpret their relationship and i highly encourage everyone to find what angle is most interesting to them! and i don’t blame you for finding their dynamic fascinating because it’s easily one of my favorites in double exposure … i don’t think of it often, but it’s always lingering in the back of my mind. regardless, i hope this word vomit is helpful! if i brought up more questions than answers, i do apologize. but thank you so much for such a fun question <3 it was an absolute blast, and tickled my brain enough to pump this out asap.

[marveloustimestwo]

Can you do yandere Gwen Stacy pls

I can't believe this was requested almost a year ago. Hopefully, this is good, and I'm so sorry for the wait. On another note, they could never make me hate Gwen Stacy. Love her dearly <3

Warnings: Yandere themes

I see Gwen being overprotective, but also an avoident stalker if that makes sense.

At least, in the beginning, Gwen would find it difficult to grow attached to anyone. Whether you're a potential friend or crush, she will force herself to bury whatever she feels for you and pretend you're just an acquaintance. Someone who happens to be in the same class or working on the same project.

She's terrified of the idea that one day she'll lose you. She already lost her Peter in such a brutal way and now she's being blamed for his death.

The potential of that happening to any new friends she makes is debilitating, so she forces herself to be at arms-length with everyone she meets.

Including you. No matter how nice you are, or how pretty or funny, she will bury her feelings deeper and deeper.

But what she finds even more difficult to admit than her feelings, is that burying them only seems to make them worse.

No matter how much she tried to deny it, she really, really likes you.

The more time she spends around you, the more she sees you. She finds herself laughing at all of the stupid jokes you make, or noticing the color of your eyes.

She'll find herself looking around at your room more when you're supposed to be working on your project, and taking in everything that makes you comfortable.

She'll catch herself and force herself to focus on the task at hand, but before she knows it, she swinging by your place when she's patrolling, sneaking a glance into your room to see if you're there.

When you are there, either relaxing or working, Gwen can't help but marvel for a second.

And she finds herself thinking that she really is screwed.

For a while, she'd try her best to avoid you. The tentative friendship you had built with her is now all but a ghost, leaving you more than confused when she avoids your eyes and walks away from you.

Now that Gwen can recognize that she likes you a lot more than she wanted to, she's afraid that she's going to put you in danger.

It's not just villains, but her father and the police force that she's afraid of. She's already walking on thin ice trying to keep herself safe, so she feels like dragging you into this is sentencing you to death.

It's only after her relationship with her father turns sour that she finds herself caving.

You're the only person in her universe that she feels truly safe with, the only person who she trusts enough to see at her worst.

As soon as you let her in, both physically into your room and mentally back into your life, Gwen's obsession with you only solidifies and grows stronger.

The way she acts with you does a near 180, to the point where it practically gives you whiplash.

Now that she's already committed to being in your life and you've accepted and supported her, Gwen will end up doing everything in her power to make sure you're safe and happy.

You have a guard dog now, who is clingy and happy with you, but cold and almost aggressive with anyone who she thinks can't be trusted.

It might be nice to have a friend like Gwen at first. She's happy to listen and is more than invested in your interests. Having someone to geek out with and be close to is amazing for both of you.

But you'll soon notice how she invites herself to go through your stuff. Even your private or prized things like your journals, art books, or collectibles.

She may make it seem like this is an accident, that she didn't know that it was a rare item or that was where you put your deepest thoughts, but truth be told, she already knew a while ago.

Like I said, she's invested in your interests. She knows, but she's just a bit too invested. She likes knowing all this and likes seeing what you think about her.

So please don't push her away. Gwen's already lost so much, so losing you would absolutely break her.

[mowbrayvongothe]

Again another day when I listen to The Magnus protocol and speak my mind freely apologies to those who actively see this and read my thoughts they don’t make sense!

spoilers for The Magnus Protocol 27- Driven below

I’m deeply exhausted today waking up at 5am for results isn’t fine

Results day landing on TMP day is great btw

Also love the sfx

Oh sweet Lena

Lena isn’t too happy

“It is a cluttered eyesore” Lena?

Oh Lena is terrified of the minister nice

Sam why are you a little shit

I love you

Gwen???

Hm

Ha nice Gwen

No Alice?

Ohhh Gwen has many plans love that for her

OH FUCK OFF AUGUSTUS

GOD LEAVE US ALONE

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPPPPPP GODDDD

Hey voice I don’t know ANYTHING

I’m too exhausted to consume tmp

Thank you to whoever delivers the transcript my mind cannot work without you

Oh wait fuck this is in 1845 I bet you like that Augustus you ancient freak

Chemistry talk again can alchemy calm down

oh I’m tired

Hm alchemy again

Ahhh purification yummy yummy

WAIT

institute? Ahaa

Oh oh nothing I’m calm

CALM.

I’m tagging this after and going to bed

An hansom cab?

Clearances/growlers huh

Oh the background noise

Oh sweet

Haha this sounds like an organ

Oh disappearing? Nice!

Ahhh oh my god

OH IS THAT CAB AND THE COACHMAN KIND OF LIKE A TRAP???

Feels like it if both the cab and the coachman are attached and the trap is easy and ‘fashionable’ travel then it’s easy to take people. Nice.

“Hunting ground” hm weird

This feels like the hunt again

Oh it’s like a Venus fly trap aha nice.

OH MY FUCK

Ohhohoh I love this

“The growler has no need for eyes”

oh this is the hunt please I refuse to believe this isn’t about my baby the hunt

Oh my god

BOYLE???

BOYLE??

Ohhh so he sacrificed someone.

O

The

WHAT

rh

WHAT

WHAT

WHAT FUCKINF EHAT

ESCUSE ME

HA

PAUSE

TIME OUT

MAGNUS INSTITUTR???

EXCUSE ME

Jesus

So whoever wrote this. Founded the Magnus institute

And whoever founded the Magnus institute had a keen eye to sacrificing people for researching and observation

Huhhhhh I wonder who THIS could be referencing

AND I WONDER WHY AUGUSTUS IS READING THIS??

RIP this

AAA

OH

“The rate of digestion is linked to his fear” OH OH OH MY GOD

They said itTHEY SAID IT

LAI LAI TURN THE TV ON THEY HIT THE FUCKIGNKENDND

Oh oh?

Does Gwen want those people dea

YEAHHH ALICEEE

“I’m openly trans on the internet” nice.

Ok so Gwen just wants everything to look nice

So the Magnus institute wanted poisonous washing machines and the ability to look at the stars. Nice!

“Pretty decent sex” nice!

Hilltop centre. WHEN I FUCKING GET YOU.

TREVOR HERBERT????

WHAT THE FUCK

Alice I need you

“More magnussing”

OH OH

OH OA

Alice

ARCHIVIST?? SHES GETTING THE TINFLY FEELING

OH SHES FEELING IT

SHES HAVINF THE SPIDER SENSES

I haven’t collected my thoughts but oh ok that was an episode.

The pre-case is just essentially the whole preparing for the ministers arrival cough Trevor Herbert Jesus fuck.

The case was pretty much as usual their version of the end. I would’ve assumed it was the hunt and was very dedicated to that idea but after the founders experiment we know that the more afraid you were of dying the more they stripped and digested your body down like a Venus fly trap which excretes digestive enzymes the more you move. Which is nice truly this feels like a Venus fly trap situation.

The founder said they were the founder of the Magnus institute and the voice reading this statement out to Sam is possibly Jonah Magnus’ original body. Which makes sense in a way.

The post case was a post case!!!

Gwen got given strange emails with old case files which either means JMJ is giving her important archivist cases or they are giving her trevor Herbert’s statements.

Sam and Celia had a very important convo which was nice and Celia getting straight back into magnussing was great I love that for her

The same few locations that were familiar in TMA are popping up especially ‘Hilltop’

The shopping centre not being used just feels like a drug front but instead of drugs it’s fear

Trevor as MP. Who was predicting this???

I’m quite enjoying the fact that instead of TMA where everyone isolated themselves making them more vulnerable to the fears they all kind of help each other? Will be absolutely lush if they still die though tbh.

Also does Celia get a feeling of dejavu with her TMA-self? She has the sense that these people are helpful and in the TMA-verse they are but in here they aren’t. Especially with her reaction to it being ‘archivist’

Anyways this is great and I didn’t scream at my friend over text because I’m alone in listening this between the two of us if you’re seeing this later I hope you know I’m cursing you

[lamentingwclf]

It took a while for any correspondence to reach him, mainly because it could only be gathered at allied posts. No one wanted to run the risk of delivering mail in the field when it could mean certain death, so it was only when Bucky could be tracked and his squad checked in that he got letters. The first had been June, which he expected to be the worst of it. She'd written the day he left about how much of a selfish prick he'd been and that she hoped he'd rot in hell.

Rebecca's had been next, ever the peace keeper, she must have either suspected what June had written, or had gotten the truth out of her herself because her words were filled with understanding and apologies.

Steve's radio silence hit harder than he anticipated, not knowing yet that his friend had not only managed to slip through the cracks and enlist, but because he was undergoing basic training himself to ready himself for the Super Soldier Serum. Bucky chalked it up to misplaced and uncontrolled jealousy. Bucky was living his dream, and he didn't have it in his heart to hate him for it. He knew Steve would come around, and when he did, Bucky would be waiting.

But Gwen's letter hit him somewhere outside of Essex, not too deep into the warzone yet, still slowly making their way and picking up stragglers as they went. He was sitting on a broken rock wall next to Dum Dum Dugan when a courier called, "Sergeant Barnes, letter for you." He'd opened it without a second thought until he saw how hard the words were pressed into the page, and his companion leaned in to him to see for himself.

"That looks serious."

"I hope not." It was said lightly, his eyes scanning the page and picking up key words to tell him just how wrong he'd been.

"A girlfriend?"

"Mind your business." Bucky shoved him away with his elbow, much to the other's delighted laugh, then pushed off the wall to head back towards the inn they'd taken over for the night. He needed a desk, and somewhere quiet to focus on how to handle this. He knew it was coming, he just didn't know how severe it would be, nor did he realize just how much it would hurt that she still seemed blind to him.

So she knew the real truth of his reputation, that he would only spend one night with a girl and move on. He didn't risk attachments for a reason, and it had caused quite a bit of strife between friends back home. They all had running bets on which girl would be the one to finally snag and tame Bucky Barnes? Which girl would make an honest man out of him? It was all so superficial. They all thought he was some - what was the word Gwen had used? - Casanova, when in reality, he was just desperate for someone to see him for what he was, and touch him gently. When the answer to their question was the girl sitting beside them, judging them because she had a ring on her finger, who had wanted fuck all to do with him until he he stood before her, heart in his hand, and begged.

He covered his face with his hands, genuinely embarrassed about it all, and tired in a way that settled deep in his bones. They'd been marching for days trying to reach Paris. They'd set out from London, working their way to Canterbury to take a boat to Dunkirk. He knew this fatigue was causing his thoughts to turn defensive, and in turn, offensive. So he breathed, forced his entire body to relax starting with his jaw, to his neck, and down his shoulders. Only then did he pick up his pen, and write.

If you cannot tell what I want from you, then I have done a poor job expressing myself. And though you wound me in continually using the things I've done to survive against me, I'm willing to admit that I maybe did not handle leaving in the best way. But what did you want me to do? I told you that I wanted to leave on my own terms. We've sat and watched soldiers leave over and over again over the last few years, and I did not want to have those goodbyes. I didn't want to have to deal with my mother not even showing up, or my best friend's silence that I can do what he can't. I didn't want to see Rebecca cry, or June close off. And I sure as hell didn't want to just hug you and pretend we were just friends. The fact you are upset over it tells me you had some grandiose plan to say goodbye and it's not real. I choose to leave in a way that was real for me. Where I could pretend my mom and Steve were happy. Where my last memory of my sisters is them laughing at something stupid I'd done or said. Where I could pretend, even for just one night, you were mine. So yeah, I deprived you, but you'll have to forgive me if I cannot find it in my heart to regret it. I'm not going to tell you what to do, or what to believe, because at some point you're going to have to grow up and start making these decisions for yourself. I'm not making up your mind for you, neither should your parents, or Harry. Only you can decide. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you will set yourself free. If you truly think your words mean nothing then don't bother. I wouldn't want you to strain yourself or go out of your way to do something that does not benefit you. I don't want empty words and promises. But I did not lie to you about the things that matter. Yours

Decidedly, he follows her in her petty wake by not signing his name under the guise that she would know who it is from when it reaches her. His tiredness does not subside as he walks to the post office to mail the letter. Does not smile at the girl behind the counter when she tires to flirt or ask what's wrong. He's tiredness only manifests into a living, breathing, thing that is sitting on his shoulders as he walks out and is met with the sound of gunfire and screaming as soldiers begin running past him. As Dugan slams his rifle into his hands and starts tugging at his jacket.

Slumber comes surprisingly quick and easy despite the wave ahead. Maybe it was exhaustion from all the moments she'd faced tonight, maybe it was from her first experience like this with a man, or maybe it was the warmth and security Bucky provided her as he held her in his arms while she drifted. Whatever it was, all pains of hurt and fear were gone and instead...just blissful rest.

The gentle brush of her cheek rustles the woman just the faintest bit, though it wasn't a shudder of bother. It was comfort and it was if that touch forced her into a deeper sleep. Because she didn't hear the rustling in the kitchen. She didn't hear the door open nor close- or the man leaving her apartment.

A low groan is given as Gwen's eyes flutter awake, just as the sun began shining on the city. She looks up at the clock on her nightstand, brows immediately creasing when she saw it read 6:30. "Shoot. Bucky, I'm sorry- hey it's 6:30. You should get in the bath. I'll start on breakfast then start on your uniform. Let me." Gwen rolls over, shock coming to her features when she doesn't find Bucky asleep next to her, and quickly she sits up. "Bucky?" she calls out, quickly slipping out of her bed and into her robe.

"Bucky?" Gwen calls again, waiting for his response as she heads into her washing room- more confusion coming to her face when she no longer sees his jacket. She can't help the blood that comes to her cheek nor the way her heart picks up speed. "Bucky?"

The woman hurries to the kitchen and living area, her heart sinking just slightly when he was nowhere to be found, but slowly Gwen takes a breath and heads back for her room. He'd likely gotten up before her, or couldn't sleep, and decided to head home. Give his time to his sisters and mother before heading for the station. It was understandable- and hell it was what she wanted him to do.

And so she disregarded it, feet padding to her bathroom to bathe, put on her better dresses. Makeup is applied, her tamer red lip, and finally her hair is curled and heels are put on.

7:20. Just enough time to hurry to the station and say goodbye.

Hurriedly Gwen rushes to the kitchen to grab a piece of bread, and it's only after she's quickly taken a bite does she see it. The folded piece of white paper sitting on the countertop. Immediately she halts, her chest tightening. But slowly she opens it and reads.

He doesn't have to tell her what he's done. Gwen knows that man like the back of her hand, and he does not have to tell her that he won't give her the goodbye she'd been rehearsing for a month. He does not want the hug. He does not the letter she had tucked in her purse for him to read on the ship.

He wants none of it.

Tears fill brown eyes and slowly her hat is taken from her head and placed next to the letter. She bites her lip. Hurt and betrayal washing through her. Shame and misuse. His letter...it means nothing. Her mind swirls with anger. James Buchannan Barnes had a reputation. Loving on then breaking women's hearts in a single night...just as he'd done to hers.

A moment is taken to process, her hands gripping the countertop as she squeezes her eyes shut, a few tears slipping out. One breath is taken. Two.

"Goodness," Gwen finally whispers before smoothing the skirt of her dress, grabbing her hat and letter. Her hat goes to the hat rack. Letter in the garbage- along with the undershirt from the night before. It's taken out and placed in the washroom. The bread is sealed and she goes to the bedroom. And while she's numb, images of what they'd done in this bed playing over and over again in her head, she makes the bed. Crease free. She goes to the washroom again and begins washing Bucky's undershirt, along with her robe still wet from the rain. They're placed to dry, books are grabbed, and she heads out. She goes to the library, trying to force herself to read and study. She meets a friend for lunch. She goes to find Steve- who is gone. Then goes home. To her parents home. Because she cannot bear to lay in the bed in her apartment any longer.

It's then and only then does the gravity of what had happened wash through her. It's then when regret sets in. Because their night together was no longer just theirs. She was too loud...word got out. Apparently her neighbor had seen Bucky leave as well.

She will not "whore herself out". She's ashamed. She's disgraced herself, her fiancé, and their families. She's risked their reputation. She's risked everything. She's sorry. It will never be spoken of again. It cannot be and no longer can be a lone woman living in Brooklyn.

It's the third day after Bucky leaves- the third time she has not found Steve Rogers in his apartment- does she finally scream. Hands go to her hair as she falls to the ground next to Steve's bed, and she screams until she can no longer. Screams in hurt, in betrayal, in frustration, in sorrow, in loneliness, in guilt, in goddamn rage. Once it ends Gwen scrambles to her fight, hands digging through Steve's art corner until she can finally find a piece of paper, envelope, and pencil that is pressed hard into the paper.

For more than a decade, I have known what you do. The pieces of you that accepts the lust that comes your way. The piece of you that thrives off of it. I have watched you break hearts for so long, and in my blind adoration, I have criticized these women. I've told myself that they should know better. That they are wasting their time. It is only now does my heart ache for every woman who has come into your crosshairs. You are a bastard. You are a goddamn liar. You've lied to me over and over again. I cannot tell what it is that you want from me, but I cannot help but feel that you have finally got a piece of it. You tell me I'm not yours. You tell me that you want nothing to do with me. You tell me you love me. You tell me you will fight for me. What should I do with this information? Tell me that, because I have nothing.

I love you. There is no deceit behind those words nor is it the kind of love you showed me a few days prior. I have loved you since I was seven years old. You and Steve. You boys became my world, and you became my protector. I have spoken nothing but the truth to you, and you know this. You have always known my devotion to you and yet you take the innocence I have given you, which is not the cruelest part. You deprived me of a goodbye to my protector. Instead I'm left here with nothing but stained hands and fear that my last images of you will be waking up without you. You have hurt me more than anyone can. You had the power. You knew that. You did it anyways. I will remain the foolish one, because while you cannot hold your promises, I will hold mine. I will continue to love and care for your family and Steve. I will continue to pray for your safe return. I will continue to write you, even when my words mean nothing. I will do things because that is who I am. You say I am blind, and that may be so, but I was pure. I am kind. I am so desperate to find the good in this world, in this life, in you. I hope you reached London safely. I hope you are safe heading across Europe. I hope you find some beauty in the ashes and ruins. I hope at least once a day you smile. I hope you are stay smart. Sincer You know who this is from

[hops-hunny]

Just a Flight Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Ilvermony!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Request N/A

Summary: Neville has a cutie who lives in America but no one seems to believe him.

Warnings: None! 

A/N: This isn’t a request but it’s based off of me rambling here and slightly off of the vibe telepatia by Kali Uchis gives off.

If there was one thing Neville was thankful was it was the absolute goddess he got to call his girlfriend. It was funny the way they first began talking to one another. (Y/n) had been trying to contact a friend at Hogwarts but after the long trip from Ilvermony to Hogwarts, her owl was quite exhausted and ended up bringing the letter to Neville instead. Neville saw the poor bird, giving it a bit of bird seed and water that he kept in the green house before he set off to find the rightful owner of the letter. Luckily he had 3rd period with the girl who thanked him before excitedly yanking the letter from his hands. When Neville went to go check on the owl, he saw that it had already left, leaving a heart shape in the bird seed.

After that day, Neville hadn’t really thought about the incident that much. Well, that was until he saw the same owl fly towards him with a letter in its mouth. He smiled fondly at it rubbing under its chin with his finger before going to give the letter back to the owl until he noticed it had his name on it.  He ripped it open, careful to not damage the envelope before reading the letter.

Dear Neviile,

Thank you so so so much for getting the letter to Gwen! Gwen is a good friend of mine who I had been missing dearly and if not for your kindness she would have never received my letter. 

As you may be able to tell from the seal on the letter, I attend Ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry. I've heard of how grand and great the infamous Hogwarts is, is it true? How is England in general? I've never had the pleasure of traveling out of America.

Oh yes! The main point of this is as a thank you, I've attached a package of my favorite American sweets as a token of my gratitude. The package is enchanted which is why it's so small. To restore it to its original state, place it on a flat surface before tapping it with the tip of your wand.

Sincerely,

(Y/n) (L/n)

Neville felt his face grow warm at the girl's kindness. (Y/n). 'What a beautiful name..' he thought to himself before pulling out the galleon sized package from the envelope. He pushed aside a few plants on the table in front of it before placing the package down, tapping the top with his wand. He gasped, watching in amazement as he saw the package expand. Neville wasn't quite familiar with this enchantment, perhaps he'd ask her about it in his response. His cheeks turned a brighter red. Response?

Did she want to speak to him more? He didn't want to assume but by her letter and her asking questions, it made it clear that this wasn't the last exchange she wanted to have. Was this a prank? Were the Weasley twins up to this? There was only one way to tell. Neville reached a shaky hand forward, opening the package as he closed his eyes expecting something to pop out at him but when he opened his eyes there was nothing but a box of snacks he had never seen before. He let out a sigh of relief, ignoring the racing in his heart.

After that, Neville and the girl started to talk quite a bit. Months had turned into years and he couldn't have been happier. It felt nice to have someone he could talk to, someone far away from all the hustle and bustle of the castle. To her he wasn't the kid with unfortunate luck or the "cowardly" boy in Gryffindor. He was just Neville, her boyfriend. Neville, her kind boyfriend in another continent, far away. 

(Y/n) loved Neville just as much. It wasn't that she never had suitors approach her. In fact, she had quite a few. (Y/n) was what you could consider popular, not that she cared. She was kind, smart, and beautiful. Who wouldn't want that? However, she always felt like none of the men who'd approach her got her. They all just saw her as a beautiful woman instead of what she was, a normal girl deserving of love. That's why she liked Neville so much. No matter what he always treated her with the utmost respect and that hadn't stopped when they started to date either. 

When the two had first exchanged photos, Neville was stunned. He had been talking to that beautiful of a girl? He couldn’t believe it. It was as if Olivander himself had sculpted and carved her out of the best of wood. She had glowing (s/c) skin, soft healthy looking (h/c) (h/c) hair, and a smile that could compete with the sun on its brightest of days and win. And when he found out she was single? He would’ve been a fool not to make a move. Angels as sweet as (Y/n) didn’t come around that often. 

And although their relationship was as great as can be there was the underlying sadness: they lived across the world from one another. Every time either of them would see a couple hug or kiss in school, they’d feel a twinge of jealousy pierce their hearts. It wasn’t fair that the most perfect person in the world was off enjoying themselves in their respective countries. Although (Y/n) tried to ignore it, Neville was the type to bring it up. He’d describe in the most beautiful of words what he’d do if they were together. How he’d hold her in his arms and show her off to all of his friends. Where he’d take her on a date, the plants he wanted to show her as they were both herbology geeks. Meanwhile she’d end each of the letters discussing this topic with the same phrase as usual. ‘You know I’m just a flight away. If you wanna I could take a private plane.’ He could never ask that of her though. As much as he’d love everyday to be filled with his flower, he wouldn’t wanna rip her away from the things she had going on in her own life.

It wasn’t all bad though! After the girl had taught him the charm she used when she first sent him something, they both would send each other gifts back and forth as much as possible. Neville sent her sweaters with his scent embedded, charmed flowers, chocolate frogs, anything she wanted was hers. She’d send her own things to remind him of her as well. Her favorite stuffed animal, loads of photographs, little crochet hats she made for Trevor, more...unsavory things as well definitely not her underwear. Despite the increase in objects Neville owned, none of his friends had questioned it until he started to wear a necklace with a heart shaped piece of onyx on it with the letter (Y/f/i) carved into it.

“Oi! Neville. Where’d you get that necklace from?” Ron questioned his friend who sat across from him in the Gryffindor common room. The boys had all decided to study together which of course turned into Neville studying as they goofed off. Neville tensed as his cheeks heated up turning a pink color.

“O-oh um..it’s from my girlfriend.” He said, saying the last word as soft as possible. He prayed to Merlin that his friends hadn’t heard him but unfortunately for him they had. It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone to know about her. It was far from that. He was just a bit protective, he didn’t want anyone to try and steal her from him. Even though it was impossible since they had no contact with her, he never knew when it came to his friends. They always found a way to make the impossible possible.

“What year is she in?!”

“Who is it?!”

“No way, is she fit?!”

He finished at the chorus of voices, trying to calm them down so he could speak. They all scooted closer to him, looking up at him expectantly. “Well you see..” he trailed off, looking away as he played with the pendant around his neck. “She doesn’t go here. She attends school in Ilvermorny. But to answer your question, yeah she is bloody fit.” he responded, turning his attention back to the scroll of paper in front of him. Dean, Ron, and Seamus exchanged a look with each other trying to suppress their laughs.

“Yeah I’m sure she does Nev.” Dean said sarcastically as he joined the other two in laughter. Neville looked up at his friends confused at their behavior.

“Yeah Nev, if your nan sent it you could’ve just told us! Better than saying you’ve got a girl halfway across the world.” Ron said, pushing the boy slightly as he continued to laugh at him. Seamus was doubled over, snorting with laughter as fire whiskey shot from his nose causing the other two to howl with laughter.

“It’s not from my nan! My girlfriend really did send it to me.” he exclaimed, smacking Ron on the back of the head, before doing the same to the other two men. “Besides, you have some fucking nerve accusing me of lying when none of you have birds yourself.” he sneered, causing the boys to quiet down some.

“So harsh Neville, you didn’t have to go there mate! Well what’s this ‘girlfriend’ of yours called.” Seamus asked, doing air quotes as he mentioned the topic at hand. “You’d think it was a bit strange too if your friend suddenly mentioned a girlfriend who lived all the way in the states too wouldn’t you.”

“(Y/n). And I’ll have you know this isn’t a new thing. We’ve been dating since around 2nd year. Sure, I’d find it a bit strange if you mentioned a girlfriend in America that you had never brought up prior, but I wouldn’t find it impossible! Now if you excuse me, I have to go.” he quickly stood up, packing up his materials as he stormed off to the direction of his dorm. He sped up, ignoring the protest and begging of his friends to come back and continue to hang out with them. He had enough of them and he wasn’t gonna sit there and let himself be called a fucking liar by Hogwart’s biggest ones.

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

“Did you guys hear? Students from Ilvermony are supposed to be coming to visit!” Ron said, running up to the other four boys. “I’m just picturing how hot all the girls from the states are gonna be. All hot and leggy with those bloody accents. I could combust just thinking of it!” he exclaimed, flopping down on the couch. Neville gasped softly, looking up. Did he hear him correctly? 

“Where’d you hear that from? I didn’t hear anything of the sorts.” Hermione questioned, looking up from her book at the interesting news she had just heard. However, Neville was still frozen. Was this true? And if so, why hadn’t (Y/n) mentioned it. No, no it couldn’t be. She surely would have told him.

“I just overheard it from Dumbledore himself. They should be arriving in a few minutes! They’re staying here for a few months. It’s a part of this new thing that they’ve set up. Something about wanting the students to learn different methods and what not. They decided it’d be a good idea since summer is coming soon.” he said nonchalantly, looking over at Neville who hadn’t moved since the news left his mouth. He went to question what was up with him before his eyes lit up, recalling the conversation they had a few months ago. “Hey Neville? Didn’t your supposed ‘girlfriend’ go to Ilvermony.” the boys all suddenly interested began to ‘ooo’ exchanging looks with each other.

“See Neville, this is why you don’t lie. Lies will always come back to bite you in the rear. Perhaps Ronald i-”

“I wasn’t lying, Hermione! She really does go to Ilvermony.” he exclaimed, standing up as he wiped his hands on his pants. All of a sudden, there were the sounds of a bunch of American accents speaking which caught all of their attention. Many different students in Ilvermorny uniforms (some without them) roamed freely to explore the large and intense castle.

“God you weren’t kidding Ron, the girls are bloody fit.” Dean muttered, eyeing some girl who gave him a wink before giggling and running off with her friends. “Woah look at that one, are you kidding me? She’s a fucking goddess!” Neville’s curious hazel eyes followed his friend's words as he saw a familiar shade of (h/c) hair styled in the way his girlfriend wore it. Wait, was that his sweater? 

“That’s not just some fucking girl, that’s my girlfriend!” Neville exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

“No chance.”

“You couldn’t pick a more believable one?”

“Prove it then.”

Neville went to say something before the girl turned around, locking eyes with him. She gasped, tearing up some as she pushed through the crowd of people running to him as quickly as possible. “Nev! Neville babe, is that you?” she exclaimed. Neville’s face flushed brightly taking in the girl’s appearance. She had worn the first sweater he had given her, a mossy green sweater with an obscure pattern, with a pleated skirt pairing it with a pair of boots. Neville nodded his head quickly, holding his arms out as the girl ran into him almost knocking him over. He picked her up, spinning her around quickly before setting her down, holding her soft face between his hands.

“W-what are you doing here?! You never told me you were coming to visit!” he exclaimed, wiping at the stray tears that had left her eyes. He moved his hands from her face securing them around her waist as he stared down at her. God she was even more beautiful in person.

“I wanted to surprise you! I actually found out a few weeks ago and let me tell ya, it was SO hard not to tell you!” She giggled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, smiling at her. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even more handsome but bloody hell. You’re so fucking hot, Nev.” she said, feeling her face heat up. Neville flushed a bright red before leaning down, kissing the girl on the lips. She pulled him down more, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed back. The kiss was full of the love and affection they had both been craving from one another. (Y/n) tangled her hands in the back of his hair as he deepened the kiss, moaning softly. They both jumped away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Ah sorry! Nev, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked looking up at him as she intertwined his large hand with her smaller one.

“I suppose I will, even though for some reason they thought you weren’t real.” he quipped, glaring at the four boys who looked away ashamed. “From left to right there is Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus. And over there,” he said pointing to the big arm chair in the corner. “That is Hermione.” he said as they all muttered ‘hi’ and ‘sorry’ from some of them. (Y/n) giggled some, waving at them all.

“It’s very nice to meet you all! Nev talks about you guys all the time in his letters. Oh!” She said, eyes looking at his chest. She reached a hand forward, grabbing the engraved onyx in her hands. “The necklace I gave you!! You like it? I think it looks really good on you.” she exclaimed with a smile, happy her boyfriend enjoyed the gift she gave him. Neville once again looked at his friends chuckling some at their wide eyes.

“Of course I do, petal. I wear it everyday, everywhere I go. Right guys.” he teased, watching as they all stuttered out ‘yes ‘yep’ ‘sure does. “Come on flower, I’ll show you around the castle. I know you’ve been looking forward to that for a while. Also, you look quite cute in my sweater.”

“Thank you. I wear it quite often, even though the smell of you has worn off it still brings me good memories.” she said, playing with the slightly worn out sleeves of the sweater. “I’d love to!! Can we check out the greenhouse first? I wanna see that plant you were talking about. Maybe we can work on identifying what species it is!” he nodded in response, taking her hand once again as they began to walk off. Before they turned the corner, he quickly turned his head around using his unoccupied hand to flip off his friends before turning his attention back to his lover.

“Who would’ve thought? Longbottom with an absolute fox.” Ron said, slumping back down as he frowned. Hermione took the book she was reading smacking him upside the head.

“Maybe if you knew how to treat women you’d be with one too.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 34

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, guns

A/N: i do realise i’m very VERY late with this post but i’m growing too attached to this fanfic. hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

    - You know Sebastian, just because your father was a great man, doesn’t mean he was a good one. 

Sebastian watched as she left the room, the trail of her dress disappearing between the edge of the door and leaving him frozen where he was. There was probably not a single person in the whole entire world who could freeze him for what seemed like more than an hour, yet Y/N seemed to hold that power effortlessly, something she could easily control. What looked like someone who’d always be there no matter what was slipping like sand through his fingers. 

He rubbed his face, walking over to the good selection of glass filled bottles to pour himself another glass. What was he doing? Was he really about to marry someone who despised him and who he couldn’t stand when the girl he wanted was asking him to leave? Maybe he could pay off Forrest and move to a new country with Y/N after transferring all his money to other offshores. Surely he could do that without calling much attention.

A loud sound rang through the room and his eyes glued to the phone on his bedside table. He was sure he’d never heard an actual hotel phone ring and that alone intrigued him. He grabbed the phone from the hook, bringing it up to his ear.

    - Hello? - shaky and heavy breathes came from behind and he started to wonder if someone was trying to play a prank on him. - Hello?

    - S…Sebastian, it’s Y/N … - he could almost hear her cry which made him grip the phone. - I’m scared, Sebastian. I’m scared.

    - Are you alright? 

    - I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry. 

    - Angel, whatever it is, you can tell me.

    - I’m pregnant.

For the second time, the same exact person had managed to freeze him on the spot yet again but what was most worrying for him was why she was crying and why she was telling him in the phone. He kept calling her name on the phone but before he could even get an answer the line went dead. Without much of a second thought, he dropped the phone and rushed out of his bedroom, going up the stairs where her bedroom was located. The numbers seemed to mock him as he tried to run as fast as his legs could allow him to her bedroom. Knocking on the dark wood as forcefully as he could, he found no answer and without much prior thought or consideration for hotel staff, he grabbed his revolver to shot the lock open which led to an empty room. He looked around with the agility of a cheetah and eye of a predator but she wasn’t anywhere to be found and with more worry settling on his chest, he ran over to Gwen’s bridal suite where Y/N’s bodyguard was standing.

Surely if he was standing there she would be safe inside and the call was maybe Y/N being playful. Yet again, something in the back of his mind made him unreliably restless and so, much to the groans of some of the women waiting outside the bridal suite, he walked inside the room to be met with girlish high pitched screaming about how it was bad luck to see the bride in the wedding dress. How much bad luck could it bring to a made up wedding he didn’t know but in all honesty he didn’t care and mostly ignored the rest of the bridesmaids as he looked for Y/N who was nowhere to be seen.

   - Where’s Y/N?

   - Probably somewhere else. God, Sebastian could you at least follow some traditions? You could give me at least a few hours of freedom before I become a Stepford wife. - her eyes were mostly focused on her glass of prosecco rather than him which greatly annoyed him. - Y/N wanders around, she’s probably outside or with Jude Dubois, they’re awfully close. 

   - Was she with you a few minutes ago? - he ignored how uninterested Gwen was in her handmaid’s whereabouts.

   - I don’t know now would you kindly leave? This is my bridal party and you’re not part of it. 

Sebastian quickly realised she wasn’t here and Gwen barely care if she would return or not. He returned back upstairs to her bedroom, maybe she had been in the bathroom when he came to check on her. His mind kept yelling at him something was wrong and even the most rational part of him, the one that normally overwhelmed everything else, was telling him that Y/N wouldn’t call him like that, telling him she was scared. What worried him more was she being pregnant, he wondered if she was safe and if the baby was safe, with little to no regard at what consequences her being pregnant would be. 

He paced inside her bedroom but nonetheless it was empty with the smell of lilies and roses belonging to her fragrance lingering around. Sebastian sat down on top of her bed, sighing out of frustration and worry. There was no sign of anything bad happening in the bedroom, everything was tidy and kept to perfection except for one opened drawer of her bedside table. He wondered if Y/N had decided to leave with Jude Dubois and that call had been nothing but a joke but yet again, he could feel something was wrong, he heard it on her voice, her trembling breathy voice. That wasn’t the voice of someone who was playing tricks on him. His heart ached, completely ached in a type of pain that he couldn’t remember ever feeling. Something was wrong, something bad was happening and he couldn’t find a rational reason that would put her in a safe situation.

As he got more lost in his own thoughts, his phone rang. He picked his phone from his pocket to see Y/N’s name as the caller ID. However, before his heart could slow down from the mere stress of not knowing about her whereabouts, his whole body tensed as he recognised the voice way too well.

   - How are the wedding preparations? Busy enough? - Mr. Williams’ voice came through the phone with a pompous tone, almost proud. - Have you ever noticed how Y/N squeals every time someone grabs her? I wonder if that gets you off.

  - Listen to me, if she’s not in my hotel room in less than half hour, you’re a dead man. I’ll ... - anger dripped from his voice.

  - No, you listen to me. - he interrupted. - You don’t have the upper hand in this situation so I would watch your tone unless you want her head as your wedding present. Now ... I am a fair man, I don’t enjoy killing innocents just for it specially pretty girls like her. I’m sure we can reach an agreement.

  - You don’t want to start a war with me. If you touch even a single hair of hers, I swear I’ll make sure both my men and Forrest’s will go after you. 

  - Yes, I’m sure Michael Forrest will love to know his precious daughter is pregnant from you. It must sting, knowing that it was her you were supposed to marry. - he froze on the spot once more, unsure if he was once more playing games on him or if he had dropped. - You’ve always been like your mother, so gullible. You didn’t even bother check on any of the two girls, how they had the same birthday or how she was the only one to inherit a whole family’s estate? It only took a few documents to prove that yet you didn’t do it. I never pegged you to let your guard down for a pretty girl yet here we are.

His head hurt, his heart pounded harshly in a way that made it sound through his skull and all he wanted to do was scream and kill him. Flashes of her face and how she would always smile at him crossed through his mind as his own voice blamed him for her situation. 

   - Meet me at the Lotte New York Palace Hotel in an hour and maybe we can strike a deal. 

   - What makes you think I won’t just kill you? 

   - You don’t know how many people in your inner circle are loyal to me. If you tell anyone or if you try any little games, there’s several of my men who’d love a way with your little mistress and I’ll make sure to tape it so you can watch it later. Don’t cross me. - the line went dead.

He stood there, helpless, surrounded by her scent and belongings which only reminded him more of her. Every single memory he had of her seemed to hit his mind like a freight train from the first time he had seen her from his most recent denial of running away with her. He could almost feel her finger tips on his jaw, hear her little laugh whenever something pleased her, every thing was still so fresh, so recent. His ears were ringing as he noticed the little music box he had gotten to her on her bedside table. His hands reached for it, cradling the box close to him which caused it to snap open, the soft melody of La Vie en Rose flowing into the bedroom.

He promised. He promised her in Paris that nothing could harm her yet here he was, unsure of her state and helpless to fix anything the way he knew. He broke his promise, he broke his promise and for what? A family name? Her safety? She wasn’t safe either way. That thought itself drowned any emotion in his face. It was a blank slate and not even his eyes where Y/N could always find the truth of what his heart was going through seemed to show anything other than the pure void. 

Placing the music box on the pocket of his jacket, he exited her room and, almost mechanically, made his way down the hall, ignoring every single person who tried to talk to him or even congratulate him. Soon enough he was at the parking lot, entering his car so he could ride to the Lotte New York Palace. He was early, much early but all he could think about was seeing her again, see her safe despite anything. 

The hour seemed to go by incredibly slow but everything comes to an end and once the deadline reached its expiration, Thompson Williams walked into the hotel bar, sporting an irritable smile on his face as he sat on the high chair next to him. 

   - Why so gloom? - he taunted, for the first time holding power over the man he considered had stolen his golden opportunity of success. - Might it be because you have no control anymore? You let her be around me, I learned how she acts, I knew she wasn’t gonna scream and I knew if I endangered anyone she would do what I told her. So innocent, I can see why you like her.

   - What do you want? - Sebastian only stared at him, trying to not let the guilt or his comments affect him. At this point, he just wanted her to be back to him safely. Revenge could wait. 

   - Here. - he slide a document file towards him. - You’re gonna reside from your position within the family in my favour. Sign that document and you can go on your merry life with her, maybe use that little house Forrest gave her, have the kid. You were never made for this life anyway.

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[deliquescentnightmare]

Character Introduction

Hello! my first little character sheet so you all can meet Delila, the main protagonist of my still untitled story. Most- if not all- of my characters are blatant self-inserts, and Delila is no exception. I identify as GF so she's kind of the embodiment of my very fem moments, and my soft cottagecore side. Anyways, here's all you need to know about her! I'll post newer versions of her character sheet later on as certain events happen in the story so I don't give you guys spoilers.

Name: Delila Amelie Lestrade

Age: 24

Hometown: Born in Atlanta GA, moved around a lot as a child.

Occupation: Forensic Psychologist. FBI agent.

Sexuality: Asexual, questioning.

Talents/Skills: Writing. Playing Uke. Can't cook at all. Great skill of falling down or bumping into things. Hands are steady in times of crisis and is very levelheaded.

Siblings (describe relationship): Theodore 'Theo' Grayson Markham. 35, older half brother. Second son of Alana Markham(nee Ramses) and Fredrick Markham. Lives in NY. Jameson Albert Markham, 36, oldest half brother, and firstborn son of Alana Markham and Frederick Markham. Lives in rural North Carolina with his wife and kids. Gwendolyn 'Gwen' Beatrice Markham (deceased). Born 1980, died at 26) Killed in a car accident in St Louis in 2006. Very close to Delila and Jameson. Entire family mourned after she passed, and Alana became very different emotionally.

Mother (describe relationship): Alana Elizabeth Markham (nee Ramses). 54, lives in Ojai, California with Frederick Markham. They talk intermittently, but Alana isn't very responsible and Delila refuses to interact with her too much because it's emotionally draining. Alana refuses to acknowledge Gwen even existed.

Father (describe relationship): Gregory 'Greg' Lestrade. 49. Their relationship is close, and Greg would often visit Delila, or fly her out to see him during school holidays when she was a child. They call often (when he actually picks up or calls her back) and email back and forth. She loves him more than life itself even if he often forgets to call her because he's busy.

Significant Others (describe relationship): Struggles to remain relationships due to lack of intimacy, but had a long-term relationship for 2 years that recently ended for undisclosed reasons.

Pets: none yet. had a childhood snake named Jonathan.

Friends: Li Huang (will be introduced in the next chapter or the one after), John Watson, Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes (tentative), Theo, Mycroft Holmes(eventually).

Height: 5'2" or 157.5 cm

Weight: 135 lbs. or about 61 kg

Race: Caucasian, British-American

Eye Color: Blue in Original Fictions. In this AU, however her right one is Purple. her left is Pink. (I like pink and purple very much)

Hair Color: Naturally brown, dyed pastel orange.

Distinguishing features: Constantly has scrapes and bruises, often topped off with band-aids on her fingers and cheeks. Her wild orange hair and round gold-rimmed glasses. (they're bigger than Harry Potter's, before you ask). She wears a black pea-coat often, and it's worn from years of use. (it was her sister's)

How does he/she dress? Black pea-coat when it's colder. Likes to wear slightly-too-large clothing. Often wears stolen shirts, sweaters and button ups. Flowy, flowery dresses and skirts and occasionally ripped jeans. She did go through an Emo phase and dyed her hair white in her late teens/early 20's, and has some clothing left over from that phase that she occasionally wears.

Hobbies: Writing romance fiction and crime. Reading, often James Patterson or fantasy. Playing ukulele, and singing. She likes to dance but isn't very good at it, so she often does it when she's alone or it's dark (or both). She likes to go for walks with John in the park, and used to go for walks with Theo.

Greatest flaws: She cares too much too fast, and becomes attached to people within a day or so of meeting them. She can be slightly needy and clingy if she doesn't have a lot of friends, because she thrives off of physical affection. She's very stubborn, and will do things even when she's been given explicit instruction not to because she thinks she may know a better way. (sometimes she does, but other times she just is too strong headed to stop). She can either be unabashedly arrogant or filled with crippling self-doubt dependent on the situation as she's experienced a lot of respect and praise for her intellect. She also puts a lot of pressure on herself to succeed and it can lead to devastating burnouts.

Best qualities: Very loving and openhearted. She will put others' needs above her own nearly every time. She will make sure her friends and those she cares about are taken care of, and are taking good care of themselves. She is extremely intelligent and knows an array of weird and sometimes useful facts, and has a large span of knowledge thanks to her time at uni. She also has a way of making friends wherever she goes, which leads to a large web of connections and sources whenever she needs them.

Introvert or Extrovert? Ambivert, it's dependent on the situation. For example, if she's forced to be in isolation then she's going to be more extroverted when she's around people again. She enjoys talking to people, but after a certain amount, she can become worn out and need alone time. I think it would be good to note she is much more socially adept than Sherlock, though he is better at other things socially. (she has Asperger's and therefore he picks up on certain cues or details she may miss)

How does the character deal with anger? Delila can either run hot or run cold in terms of temperament. When she runs hot, she is often so overcome with emotion that she 'loses' words, struggles to speak and gets really flustered. (not in a good way) she never really says anything unkind when she's like this but she will be very dismissive and tell people to leave her alone. She is prone to shouting or crying to voice her frustrations and get out her emotions. The best way to calm her down is to let her rant about it, and she often calls Theo- who lets her rant. When she runs cold, she is eerily calm. She becomes sharp-tongued, cold and calculating. She will destroy whoever has angered her in this way and feel no shame. Sometimes she will spend days like this, and will be snippy and distant to anyone who tries to talk to her. She is vengeful and fully of unabashedly cruel remarks. It takes a lot or something particularly bad to get her this way.

With sadness? Delila tends to cry when she's sad, and is most comforted by physical affection. She listens to sad music, curls up under a blanket, and will write, whether it be in a journal or creatively. She will occasionally vent, but usually keeps it to herself as to not burden people around her with her issues or emotions.

With conflict? Delila can be rather argumentative and stubborn, but if she cares about the person she will do her best to listen to their side of the argument or disagreement, even if she feels as though they are wrong. When it comes to other peoples' conflicts, she will try and take the side she feels is most correct, or try and be an unbiased judge. She will defend her friends if there is a conflict in which they are being attacked in some way.

With change? Delila isn't a big fan of change but she will try her best to adapt and overcome by setting goals and new routines.

With loss? Delila will self-isolate. She will spend a lot of time re-consuming media that reminds her of what she has lost, and will go through a period of denial. Eventually, though she will come to honour the memory and move on.

What does the character want out of life? Fulfillment. Delila has spent a lot of her short life searching for something she is truly passionate about, but once she finds things that make her happy she becomes hesitant to follow them. She longs for fulfillment in ways other than reproducing and relationships, but one day she wouldn't mind having a family.

What would the character like to change in his/her life? Delila wishes she'd spent less time worried about how her mother perceived her and hoe those around her viewed her and her achievements. She is quite successful now and has learnt better but she wishes she hadn't let her doubts hinder her in the past.

What motivates this character? Delila doesn't excel because she longs for success, but because she fears failure. She refuses to be a burden, and will be independent almost to a fault.

What frightens this character? Delila is terrified of her family being hurt in any way, or losing someone she loves again. She also despises spiders and rejection.

What makes this character happy? Music. Her family, her friends. The rain. Tea. she loves to dance, but she only does it when she's alone.

Is the character judgmental of others? Delila's job required her to profile people, and because of that it has become her nature to psychoanalyse or even try to make assumptions about people from the get-go. She will often alter this perception of people later on depending on how she sees them interact with their environment, and people around them.

Is the character generous or stingy? She can be overly generous when it comes to those she loves, but also hesitant to share other things. It all depends on the item or person's emotional and sentimental value to her.

Is the character generally polite or rude? Unless given good reason to be rude, Delila is generally kind.

[xenotwink]

Good afternoon!! 💙

What’s wrong with the Unwind author? Genuine question. Never heard anything about it, so I’m curious, and cautious.

Leaving the poster in can be nice if you’re trying to keep your collector’s edition in perfect shape, but I get you. It’s definitely more fun to actually put it up, lol.

Omg shrimp babies are here?? 🎉 Congrats on becoming a grandparent! I want to see them, even though I know the phone camera will not pick them up right now, I just. Want to see them so bad.

Oh, sorry! I actually did screenshot your friend code last time you posted it. I haven’t played it in months so I haven’t gotten it figured out, yet. Gaming is not one of my hobbies anymore. 😅 Multiplayer games are not my choice when I do play, but will still add you once I’ve gotten on again.

That Star Trek magazine looks amazing. Was that at B&N? 👀

Actually, I don’t like the Jedi (prequels era), myself, haha. Some of it has to do with just not liking fantasy and preferring the sci-fi aspect of Star Wars, but a lot of it has to do with their messed up politics, the “no attachments” rule (which they also use to remove children from their families- I am not a fan of this), the slavery they employed and allowed in some systems, and the holier-than-thou attitude they seemed to pick up for a while before Order 66. I don’t mind if people like them, and I love specific Jedi like Kanan, Luke (OT and Legends only), Ahsoka (also prior material- I didn’t care for her most recent portrayal as I personally felt it didn’t line up with her character or her sentiments), and Bardan Jusik from Republic Commando. It’s mostly the mentality they pushed during the Clone Wars and TPM-age that I don’t care for. Haven’t yet read The High Republic, so I can’t give you any preferences or dislikes, there, unfortunately.

Also The Amazing World of Gumball is aptly titled. That was a great show.

How’s today so far? It seems like you’ve been having a nice vacation! 💙

I cut my hair Friday night + Saturday morning—I realized I started too late, lmao—and now have a purple and blue Gwen Stacey look (Spiderverse). It’s very comfortable, very light, and I like it.

-💙📘🖋

Hello!!!!!

I think he’s probably fine as a person (a google didn’t show anything) and the whole book is supposed to be overdramatized abortion or whatever but it’s like. First of all, I read it in college in a young adult lit class and just was livid about it because it’s just stupid and dramatic. And two, now that I work in that actual field?? Making people repulsed by organ donation is. Bad. Especially when so much good can come from one (1) body! And you’re so dead when it happens. Your brain is kaput. It’s done respectfully. So I get what he’s trying to do there but ultimately it is a degrading view of this industry.

Anyways.

Poster is gonna get in the way! So is book jacket! Get that shit outta here!! I’m trying to read!!

I hope the little shrimps are getting enough stuff to eat. Some places say that you have to add stuff. Other places say it’s fine if you have plants. Idk. I mean, still not totally sure if they’re in there. A Mystery.

I feel that. It’s either all in or haven’t played in months. Multiplayer games can be a lot of fun tho! Even if you just pop on for one match! It’s fun to know you’re playing with someone you know.

The Star Trek magazine was actually at the grocery store agjdkgjjsgsgjdfkhk.

Okay yeah I agree with most of that. I think the war is what ultimately destroyed the Jedi order and losing sight of their original goals. Which. Is why everyone should read the High Republic where the Jedi are Cool As Fuck and just doing very well and have different paths people can take. And yeah. Very good. Mostly tho who wouldn’t want a lightsaber and also the Force? Pls.

It’s been good! Probably should have gotten out of the house more and done fun things or gone out but also I don’t care. Just resetting myself. Which I’m def gonna try to do every couple of months. 40+ hours a week is a lot. But it is what it is.

Oh!! That’s such a good look. I love that for you!

[heathers-wig]

come & find me - heathney hanahaki au part three

note: please check out parts 1 & 2 before reading! this is the final part :)

## / ## / ##

So. It’s the Hanahaki Disease. Such bullshit. I sound delirious just writing it, but it can’t be helped, I guess.

I don’t know who they’re for, but I can’t let anyone find out. It would bring the bad type of attention, and no one can know of this weakness. Especially my “beloved”, seeing as how they’re literally the death of me. I don’t know who they are, but I already hate their guts. Maybe they’ve replaced Courtney as the Most Aggravating Individual of the Year.

## / ## / ##

Good news: I’m not the only one that has the disease! Bad news: Gwen, Eva, Harold, and Izzy know. Oh, and Gwen has it too, and over the idiot skateboarder, no less.

I guess I can’t judge, though, seeing as how I don’t know who these stupid flowers are for. “Pride” and “loyalty” — what type of hints are those? And Izzy was so out of line with the “I bet it’s Courtney” thing. Glad Gwen found it funny because I sure didn’t.

If it is Courtney, I have the worst taste. The worst.

But Izzy won’t be right. Courtney’s Courtney, and out of my league and I’m out of her league.

## / ## / ##

So. It turns out Izzy was right.

## / ## / ##

Courtney’s infuriating, still, but not in the same way as before. She’s so hard to look away from. I’ve observed all these things about her that I didn’t even know I noticed, and now they’re all resurfacing and it makes it so hard to ignore her. All the things I found aggravating before are weirdly charming now??

She’s just… really pretty. And sweet if she wants to be.

Shit, I really do love her.

Wait. WAIT NO THAT'S NOT WHAT I

…

No, I do love her. I really fucking love her.

She’s just?? Perfect. Every time she straightens her hair and every time she proves someone wrong and every time she does literally anything is so goddamn pretty I can’t even breathe around her. Literally. It’s selfish but I want to have all the couple-y things with her. I want the picket fence and matching rings and holding hands. I want her intimacy and love and affection. I want it all.

But… I’m too selfish for that. I’m just going to die, I’ve accepted it. It’s about time the Hanahaki Club does, too, or they’re just playing themselves as fools.

I am, too, by fantasizing like this. Dying is the only way for me.

## / ## / ##

Gwen’s in stable condition. She got in a coughing fit during a Hanahaki Club meeting, and now she’s literally fucking dying.

I’m scared, but I don’t know why.

That’s going to be me, soon, though. Whether or not Gwen lives to see is something I’ll just have to see.

## / ## / ##

Of course Courtney found out. Smartass.

But is it bad that I really, really liked having her attention and care?

Whatever. But, she held my hand today, and her hand was really, really warm.

God, how pathetic am I? I’m literally dying over here and yet I’m getting all flustered over a hand. I’m doomed.

I don’t know, I just wished I could have stayed like that with her forever. Her hand on mine. Her hand squeezing mine.

Together.

## / ## / ##

It got worse.

It hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts to even fucking breathe with how much it hurts.

Am I dying? I think I am.

I hope I am.

## / ## / ##

She’s clueless. She’s so fucking cute when she’s clueless.

She keeps on trying to guess who my “beloved” is, and she’s fucking clueless that it’s her. Of course she is. Of course Courtney is smart and sharp at everything but identifying that it’s her I’m in love with.

Of course, of course, that’s just the universe playing “Heather’s Karma” at me.

She’ll fall in love, someday, and it’ll hurt like a bitch when she realizes who she’s pining for is a dense rock.

## / ## / ##

I want to hold her and kiss her and love her and I know it’s selfish but the thought of it is so good but I can’t indulge in it and it hurts.

… At least it’ll be over, soon. I can feel another cough coming.

## / ## / ##

I’m going to die today. I can feel it.

It’s a shame Courtney is going to beat herself up for not finishing the answer on time, though, but she’s going to hurt either way. Maybe I’ll leave her this so that she knows.

God, that’s going to be embarrassing, but at least I’ll be dead and not around to see her reaction, even though it’ll be priceless.

It’s time to go, though.

## / ## / ##

Good (?) news: I’m not dead. Bad (?) news: I will be in a few hours.

I’m high on pain meds right now. It hurts to write, but I gotta.

So I thought I was gonna die. Fucking Gwen n Eva ruined that though. They got me to a hospital. Caring assholes.

The doctors say the flowers are going to suffocate me. Good. I’m ready for this to be over.

My last request is that this, somehow, is given to Courtney Barlow. The doctors already know this.

So, Courtney, hey, how are you? In the event you have this, I’m dead. Sorry. You were the person I got Hanahaki for. Sorry for not telling you.

I’m running out of time but I love you. You already saw the other entries, you already know how much I love you and every part of you. Of course you do. Smartass.

Besides this, I have left you a lotus and an azalea taped in my journal. The azalea means “take care of yourself for me”, and I left you one because I’m going to beat your ass if I see you again too soon. The lotus means rebirth.

I don’t know what happens when you die, but come and find me when we’re reborn. In the next life or the one after that, just come and find me. I’ve never been patient but for you, I’ll wait.

Come and find me.

(Courtney goes to find her.)

❀

She finds her through a vase of flowers. Lotus flowers and azaleas, to never forget the promise Heather didn’t know she made.

And heathers. Especially heathers, year-round. The only difference was that she tossed them out before she could see them wilt, much like the original Heather had.

Over the years, Courtney found Heather in minuscule things. In flowers, of course. In libraries and in pain enduring manuals and in medication and in sickness and in health, Courtney found her.

The girl who lives and loves and cries eventually dies, knowing that she’ll soon be reunited with the girl who lived and loved and died.

❀

0. restart

past the blood and bruise / past the curses and cries / beyond the terror in the nightfall / haunted by the look in my eyes / that would've loved you for a lifetime / leave it all behind / and there is happiness

❀

vi. white heathers & red roses; ‘wishes do come true’ & ‘I love you’

It’s been perhaps a day or two since Heather had awoken from her state of dying that she had accepted with grace, and Heather hates everything about the situation.

She may be in stable condition, but she is in no way getting better. She still hacks out sweet peas and purple hyacinths, along with her own blood, and she still feels just as depleted, but Heather can’t bring herself to care. The hospital gown is stiff, and saying the medical equipment is unfamiliar and uncomfortable is an understatement at best, but still, Heather takes the treatment with little argument to be provided. She’s too exhausted to care anymore, and she knows that in a few days short her time will come for good.

Still, despite her denial of the surgery, that didn’t stop her friends from the Hanahaki Club and the doctors begging her in a gentle yet urgent tone to go through with the surgery. She’s not sure why she declines; had it been a few months ago, Heather would have leaped at the chance for treatment when Gwen first suggested it. Now, though, Heather found herself wrinkling her nose in distaste, shaking her head, refusing the treatment, company, and tray of food brought to her.

Maybe, Heather thinks, if she refused her medication and nutrients, she’d die faster, but it seemed even at the hospital she didn’t get the choice. Soon, both are injected into her, and all Heather can do is sigh and wish the blossoms would overtake her faster.

Her family never shows up, though, and Heather is unsure if that’s truly a good or bad thing.

Shaking her head and the thought away, Heather wordlessly looks to the vase of roses sitting next to her stand on her side with a cheesy Get Well Soon! card attached to the vase.

Momentarily, she wonders if she would be killed faster if she choked on the thorns of the roses, before falling asleep due to her own exhaustion.

❀

It’s around 7 PM when Heather expects her nurse to come around with her dinner — an unidentifiable lump of food that tastes like chalk — when the door to her quarters slams open, and a girl who is very much not her nurse stumbles into the room.

Upon identifying who her unprecedented intruder was, Heather felt her windpipes squeeze, a lump forming in her throat. All she can do is stare like an idiot at Courtney, whose face seems to be unable to choose between adopting overwhelming relief or fiery rage.

Momentarily, though, Courtney’s raw frustration creases her features, deepening a scowl and narrowing her eyes — had she always had those bags beneath them? — to slits.

“You… you absolute idiot,” the brunette seethes, fumbling over her words. “Why? Why did you make yourself suffer for so long over these stupid flowers over me? Why are you refusing treatment? God, you’re such an idiot…”

Just like that, concern and relief overwhelm her initial anger, allowing Courtney to sink to her knees next to Heather’s side. The brunette clutches the other’s nearest hand desperately as her face contorts, fighting back a sniffle. For a fleeting moment, concern overrides all else as Heather watches Courtney let out a muffled sob, but she’s powerless to do anything besides squeezing her hand.

“But if you’re an idiot, I’m the bigger one,” Courtney choked out a watery laugh. “All that time spent investigating, and I didn’t even notice who the flowers were even for — if I had just thought harder, or if you had just told me, I could have put an end to these flowers by telling you how I feel.”

At that, Heather opens her mouth to speak, but winces as the pain seeps in once again. She notices her heart monitor elsewhere spiking, and at this, Courtney gives her hand reassuring squeezes that feel familiar and comforting.

Shaking her head once more, Courtney sighs, a fond smile cracking past her exasperated exterior. “Idiot,” she says once more, smiling, “Did you really think I didn’t like you?”

Feeling herself inhale sharply, Heather blinks once, twice, and three times before deducing that no, she hadn’t imagined the words in a dying state. Courtney’s watery eyes and wide smile and hold on her hand are still there, and so is the pain, momentarily, before it subsides. After exhaling deeply, there’s no shakiness in her breaths, nor irritation in her chest or flowers itching in the back of her throat for release.

There was only air. No flowers, blood, or bloody flowers. Just fresh and clean air that she had been deprived of for months.

For the first time in months, Heather breathes, fully and truly, free of the deadly flowers in front of her beloved.

Courtney seems to have noticed as well (her sharpness is something Heather admired — no, loved about her) as her smile falls off her face as a look of blatant surprise overtakes her features. She presses a shaking hand to Heather’s chest, feeling her heartbeat and the even rises and falls of her chest, and laughs.

She’s still shaking, though, so in a moment of blissful selfishness that Heather finally allows herself to indulge in, she wraps Courtney in a hug, and when the brunette wraps her arms around Heather, she vows to never let her go.

The months of the floral disease have been a chilling winter and her touch feels as though she has provided a getaway from it. The snow has given away and has melted into spring, the season of rebirth.

The brunette's warm. She always was, she always has been, but her warmth was unlike Heather had ever felt before, especially in the cold and lonely hospital. Greedily, Heather takes in her heat and her love and breathes in her cinnamon perfume. She was here, and it was real.

Courtney laughs softly, her chapped lips pressing against Heather’s temple diligently. She gives Heather’s hand a squeeze when they disperse from the hug, smiling brightly. Heather smiles and looks to the roses next to her side and lets herself love.

❀

Later, long after they had dispersed from their initial hug and moved onto exchanges of gentle kisses and hand-holding, Courtney hands Heather a bouquet of flowers just before she is dismissed from the hospital. The brunette looks away from Heather’s inquiring gaze, seeming embarrassed and bashful for the first time since Heather had met her.

When Heather identifies the flowers, though, she understands the uncharacteristic flustered behavior, but finds it charming and amusing rather than embarrassing.

White heathers. She lifted a portion of the bouquet to the light for a better view of the white flowers. Symbolizing wishes coming true.

Whether or not Courtney knew of flower language — after this, Heather was unsure if she ever wanted to lay her eyes on the language of flowers, despite the fact it was seared in her head — didn’t matter to Heather. She smiles instead, brushing hair out of Courtney’s eyes to look into them better.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse from all the time she spent talking with Courtney.

Predictably, Courtney opens her mouth to respond, but Heather cuts her off with a kiss.

She had been wanting Courtney and her love and affection for months, now, and now that she had it, she couldn’t help but feel the flowers and vicious coughing were nothing but a bad dream she had awoken from.

When they pull apart, Heather sucks in a breath and chuckles softly, just barely audibly, as their noses bump together.

“I love you,” Heather says. There’s no hesitation or stumbling with her words in her proclamation — only sincerity and assurance. She had waited a long time to even think of saying those words, and they had been pressing against her tongue for all of those months spent hacking up flowers. Still, throughout all of the time and suffering, all Heather had done was fall further, and the words were meant with her entire being.

Courtney’s smile in response was bright. Her eyes are just as bright, if not brighter; the words brought tears to her eyes, but thankfully, they were happy tears.

“I love you too,” Courtney murmurs, and this time, it’s her lips that find Heather’s with a smile pressed against them.

❀

END OF PART THREE - THANK YOU FOR READING! :)

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 6 Part 2

Hello, and once again, welcome back to midnight Striga! Thanks for reading!

With a shout, Eda gripped the arm, slamming the attached body onto the ground. Looming over the hooded figure now gasping on the ground, Eda growled. “Now listen here you sneaky bastard, I don’t know who you are but you caaaaaaannnnnnn!?” She trailed off from her threat, shock rising as the hood fell back.

“Oh, hello, Edalyn!” The old woman cheered, flipping herself up and onto her feet. In a blink, she rushed in, pulling a frozen-stiff Eda into a bearhug. “I have so much news to tell you about!”

Luz blinked, eyes flicking between the two, before the features clicked. Eyes widening, she shot Eda a look. “So… this is your mom?” She asked, pointing at the woman.

Shaking herself back into the present, Eda groaned, lightly shoving the woman away. “Yes, unfortunately.” Giving a deep sigh, Eda turned to Luz, gesturing to the woman next to her. “Luz, meet my mother, Gwendolyn Clawthorne, and one of the single most recurring pains in my butt. Speaking of which,” She turned to Gwen, scowling, “What do you want, mom?”

Gwen gave a beaming grin, tilting her head in apparent thought. “Is it really such a shock that a mother would want to see her daughter?” She asked, neither aware of the way Luz tensed at her question. Both Gwen and Luz reeled back at the response she got, however.

“Yes.” Eda bit out, intense bitterness coating her voice. Standing firm, she put both hands on her hips, head tilted up in anger. “Everytime… EVERYTIME!! You’ve visited me since I’ve been living on my own, it’s been to try some cockamayme cure for my curse. And they. Never. Work!! So yeah, I’d say it’s reasonable to be a little skeptical.” She finished, panting slightly at the exertion of her outburst, lightly covering part of her wrist, and the feathers underneath.

Luz desperately held in the urge to shout at Eda for talking about the woman before her like that, but she could grudgingly admit to seeing where she was coming from. However, neither of them were fully prepared for Gwen’s reaction. Gwen gave a tired sigh, a sad smile forming across her features. “I do suppose I deserved that.” She chuckled, reaching up to Eda’s face, tracing a hand across her jaw, much to her daughter’s discomfort. “I promise, Edalyn, I just want to talk. That’s all. Please?”

Eda bit her lip, conflicted. On the one hand, she was sick and tired of being burned by her mother’s antics… and on the other hand, she was sick of her family being in pain, and was honestly wanting to have genuine quality time with her mother for once. Deciding to take the risk and just bite the bullet, Eda sighed, relenting. “Okay, fine! We can talk.” She said, throwing up her hands in exasperation. Turning a raised eyebrow to Luz, Eda asked, “You want in on this, kid?”

Seeing the two witches giving her matching looks of inquisitiveness, Luz blinked, before rapidly shaking her head. “Oh no!” Pointing to Eda, she continued, “You need this a lot more than I do at the moment, and, if that brief back and forth was any indicator, the two of you have enough issues to work through WITHOUT me being thrown in.” She stated, stepping back, arms raised. Shooting Eda a brave smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll just make a day of it in town. I mean,” she shrugged, “I’ve kinda got to get used to people being suspicious of me in public all over again, why not start now?”

Coming to an agreement (“If you die, I’m selling all your stuff!” “Love ya too, Eda!), the group headed their separate ways, promising to catch up later. Gwen giddily dragged Eda along, who was personally torn between annoyance at the manhandling, and amusement at her mother’s amusement. “Yeesh, calm down, Gwen! You’re gonna rip my arm off!” Eda half-joked. Gwen’s yanks actually did have a real chance of removing her arms, but it’s not like that was a problem with her condition, really.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear, I’m just so excited!” Gwen squealed, a sheepish grin filling her face. “I just…” Her smile turned sad, “I just really wanted to see you.”

Eda gave her own sad laugh. “Don’t worry, I can understand the feeling.” Her mind flashed back to how she was after she and Raine split up, all the nights she wished they were back, wanting to see them. A thought came to her. “Hey, I just noticed… where’s Hawksley?” She asked.

Gwen gave her a mischievous wink. “Oh, he’s just looking after our other guest.”

Eda shot her a look of bafflement. “Other guest!? What are- oh no.” She groaned, as realization set in. Turning her gaze, she was in no way surprised to see Lilith, glumly slumped over a table before them, Hawksley perched on top of her head. What did shock Eda, however, was the bottle of Appleblood Lilith was chugging. Turning accusing eyes towards an unrepentant Gwen, Eda shouted. “SERIOUSLY!?”

Cheerfully whistling to herself, Luz strolled along, using the noise of her whistling to tune out the whispers and muttering all around her. It was honestly a neat trick, but she was well aware it wouldn’t work forever, especially if she ended somewhere more crowded. Scanning the area, Luz was disappointed, if unsurprised, by the sight of parents tucking their kids behind them as she moved past. It hurt. It was understandable, but it still hurt.

Sighing, Luz slipped into the shadows, rolling her eyes when the sounds of the main streetside picked up in volume at her ‘departure.’ Still, the sheer amount of gossip was entertaining, if only for the wild speculations and rantings of the more… colorful members of the local communities. Seriously, her? A shapeshifting giraffe seeking to supplant the Emperor through a false army of Abominations wrapped in Illusions? Pfft! She was gonna have to tell Eda that one, preferably when she was trying to drink something!

Laughing internally at the thought of an Owl Lady Spit Take, Luz tightened her movements against the wall. Her ears pricked at the sounds up ahead; it didn’t sound like the usual rampant paranoia. And if she focused enough, she was almost certain…

“Look, I know things are… really crazy right now.” Amity’s voice sounded out, confirming Luz’s suspicions. “But I honestly think this’ll be good for all of us. The Moonlight Conjuring is an important aspect of our culture, and is a funtime all around. If you all show up while it’s still daylight, nothing should go wrong.” Moonlight Conjuring? Hmm… something to talk with Eda about.

“B-But what if those Oroboros creeps attack again!? I can’t put my parents through that!” An unfamiliar voice questioned, concerned murmurs of agreement sounding in response.

Amity’s voice sighed. “I… I know it’s scary. The things I saw at the Covention, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget, not entirely.” Her voice took a melancholy note, before firming. “But in a way, that’s why we have to do this!” At the sounds of confusion, she continued. “That attack was supposed to make us afraid, to make us all panic. Something that it’s managed in spades all across the Isles. But for all that Oroboros is powerful, it’s an organization with a finite amount of resources. They can’t be everywhere at once, and no organization would commit precious resources to attack a party for school youths!” The nervousness died down, replaced with cautious contemplation. Luz gave a little smirk; Miss Blight apparently had a way with words, and some serious charisma if they were already changing their tune.

“I’ll go.” A familiar voice said. It took Luz a moment to place it; it was the voice of that girl who Boscha had burned! Her voice spoke up again. “If you can find someone to protect us, just in case, I’ll go.”

“W-Well, that’s fantastic!” Amity said, faux-excitedly. If Luz had to guess, her friend speaking up had caught her flat-footed, and she was trying to get things under control. “And I know just the person to do so! If you all show up before sundown, I promise, on the Blight name, you’ll all have an amazing time!” At that, all potential opposition crumbled, a chorus of agreements and cheers going up. As sounds of footsteps headed off, Luz peaked around the corner. She saw Amity, jerkily waving goodbye to her… friends? Acquaintances? Her face stretched into a plastic smile. 

Suddenly, Amity rammed her head against the wall, knocking her forehead against the stone repeatedly, frustrated grumbles coming forth. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Oh, I’ll find someone to guard us, everyone! Leave everything to Amity, everyone! I swear it on my family name!” She slapped her hand against her face. “Titan, what was I thinking!?”

“I don’t think you were.” Luz dryly noted, walking out from her pseudo-hiding place. Amity leapt back, startled. Luz noted how quickly she shifted into a ready position, one arm pulled back to cast, the other slightly pressed forward to defend herself, legs prepped to spring to either side and out of the way. She was honestly impressed, the girl had some athletic experience.

“Oh! It’s you!” Amity exclaimed, relaxing slightly, if not fully. “Luz, correct?” She said, more than asked, extending a hand for a shake. Smirking, Luz complied, giving the girl a firm grip, Amity’s eyes widening at the painless pressure. Schooling her features into a cordial smile, she grinned. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Really?” Luz asked, blinking rapidly. She had honestly not been expecting that. She cocked her head. “I kind of expected you to be some level of scared of me.”

“Oh, don’t worry, what you represent terrifies me.” Amity said frankly, the sheer honesty in her voice drawing a surprised snort out of Luz. “However,” Amity continued, her eyes focusing on Luz. “I gained a look into your measure during the Covention. You are wild, independant, and freely and liberally resort to violence even faster than Witches and Demons do. But you’re also loyal, caring, compassionate, and understanding, with a strong sense of duty. While I find you puzzling, your traits are those that I find commendable.”

“HA! Glad to hear.” Luz smirked. Her face shifted into a serious frown, contemplative. “You know, I overheard your little problem. So,” She grinned cheekily, “You need to find a bodyguard, eh?”

“Ugh! Please don’t use that phrase!” Amity near-pleaded, hiding her face in her hands. “My family has been going nuts over my safety. I am honestly lucky that they let me go into town without an armed guard of Abominations!”

Luz snorted, blinking at the mental image of Abominations skulking around Bonesburough, scanning for threats and hovering over an annoyed Amity. “Wow, over-protective, much?”

Amity exhaustedly nodded. “Yeah. My parents… aren’t the best, but they do care about me. Even if they care about our image more.” She said, muttering the last part spitefully. Shaking her head, she refocused on the original topic. “But yes, I need someone who’s willing to stand guard for me and those I plan on inviting to my Conjuring.”

“What about me?”

Amity blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“What about having me be your guard?” Luz elaborated, shrugging. “I’ve got combat experience, free time, and you won’t have to pay me!”

“That’s-!” Amity started, before pausing. She brought her fingers to her chin, eyes narrowed in thought. “That could actually work.”

“Really?” Luz asked, cocking her head. “The offer was serious, but I wasn’t actually expecting you to agree.”

Amity gave a grave smile, nodding. “Indeed, I’m willing to agree to this. If you don’t have any requirements?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

Luz paused, thinking. “If you could invite Willow and Gus, I’d really appreciate it.” She finally said.

“Done.” Amity said decisively, typing up the messages on her scroll. “That honestly works out rather well; ever since their actions at the Covention, their popularity has sky-rocketed and my friends have been wondering about meeting with them so this is an excellent opportunity. If that’s all, I will see you at my home before sunset; you can ask Willow and Augustus for directions.” WIth that said, she turned on her heel, marching off. Luz shook her head at Amity’s antics, before turning to leave herself. Neither noticed the group of individuals perched on a nearby building, the apparent leader’s eyes tracking Luz’s every movement.

“Of course,” Eda muttered, staring in resignation at the sight of her sister, chugging away on the table in front of her. Shooting an accusing stare towards Gwen, Eda moodily stomped over, plopping herself down from across her sister, glaring at her.

“EeeeDalyn?” Lilith blearily asked, words slurring slightly. She hiccuped, bottle awkwardly cradled in her hand, the other bracing her against the table. “Since when are you purple?” She muttered.

“Purple?” Eda said incredulously. She turned to Gwen, concerned. “Is it me, or is she…?”

“Absolutely wasted? No, it isn’t you, she really is.” Gwen noted dryly, casually yanking the bottle of Appleblood out of Lilith’s hands, ignoring her weak protests. “I dragged her out of her barracks, kicking and screaming. I believe a few of the Coven Guards who tried to stop me may be in need of Healing. Now, we are going to take the time to stop, think, and figure things out. As a family.” She said firmly, arms crossed.

The bitter snort came from Lilith, of all people, much to Eda and Gwen’s shock. “A-A family.” She chuckled, swaying lightly. “Is that what we are?” She laughed again, slapping the table. “And here I thought we were a bunch of strangers, pretending we CaReD about each other!!”

Gwen and Eda shared unsettled looks. Gwen hesitantly spoke up. “Now, Little Flea, I know I’ve been… distant, but-”

“DO NOT CALL ME THAT!!” Lilith shrieked, eyes wild, before calming down. “I-I haven’t been ‘Little Flea,’” She muttered derisively, “Since you abandoned me!” She accused, fist pounding against the table.

“Abandon!?” Eda exclaimed, confused and alarmed at her estranged sister’s behavior. “Sis, I don’t know what’s been going on with you, but how has Gwen abandoned you?”

Eda reeled back at the bitter anger in Lilith’s face. “She never came to my induction into the Coven, did you know that?” She said, “She never showed up for any of my promotions, any of my awards, anything!! She just, up and left!” Lilith laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “And here, I learned that she’s been visiting you for Years!! Trying to cure you!”

Gwen’s eyes grew misty. “I have made mistakes, and I apologize for that, Lilybug.” She said, reaching out towards Lilith, unconcerned when she slapped her hand away. “You were always so strong, so independent. I never meant to ignore you. I’m sorry if I hurt you because of it. But that’s why I dragged you both here!” She pleaded, glancing at the two of them. She wrung her hands in nervousness. “I just didn’t want to fail the two of you again. I know I can’t fix the pain between the two of you, and I don’t expect to. I just wanted to get you two together to hash out some ground rules, if that’s okay?” She explained, a hesitant note at the end

Eda and Lilith shared a glance, a moment of grudging understanding passing between them.

Eda turned to her mother first. “Okay, I guess we can do that. But if you’re serious about being in my life for real, I don’t want you coming around with crazy cures anymore.” Her voice took on a tender note. “If you’re gonna come over, I just want it to be so we can spend some time together, okay?”

“And I’d prefer you to visit me AT ALL!” Lilith shouted, some of the slurring fading from her voice. Eda was honestly surprised at how quickly she was recovering; a glance at her neck, and the Healing Glyph tagged onto it explained much; it was forcibly purging the Appleblood from her body, getting her back to normal. Eda winced; Lilith was going to feel like HELL when that thing wore off. “I want you to visit me, ask me about my day, take an interest in my Life!!” Tears pricked at Lilith’s eyes. “I want my mother back!” She pleaded.

Gwen turned a watery smile towards the two of them. “I think I can manage those requests.” She said, a pleased smile on her face. She grew serious. “Now then, If we are going to act like a family, as a whole that is, I am going to be doing my motherly duties, and establishing some rules for the two of you.” She stated, nodding even as her daughters groaned. She continued, ignoring their annoyance. “The rules are simple; Eda, you are to no-longer deliberately antagonize Lilith. If the two of you run into one another, you are to keep a civil attitude and in no way try to anger or upset her. Lilith, you are to cease your attitude in attempting to bring Edalyn in under the guise of being cured. If Edalyn is brought in, it is to be because she is a criminal and flouting the law, not out of an inane desire to cure her. Besides, I strongly doubt Belos would do so in the first place.” She finished, feeling a smug satisfaction at her daughters’ matching look of dumbfounded shock.

“B-But! He promised me!” Lilith said, whined really. “He gave me his word!!”

Eda groaned, even as Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Lilith, Belos’ regime is built on his Coven System, something Eda’s very existence stands in challenge to,” She said gently, “There are no circumstances in which he will EVER cure her. If you bring her in, he will have her thrown into the Conformatorium, and nothing more. He has all the leverage, and all the authority, and you have nothing that could compel him into curing her at your behest.”

Lilith shakily pulled herself to her feet, staggering off, a mumbled excuse echoing as she rapidly walked off, tears in her eyes. Gwen sighed. That had gone about as well as she’d been expecting.

Eda turned an impressed look towards Gwen. “Well dang, Mom! Didn’t know you were such a rebel!”

Gwen shot her daughter an unimpressed look. “I’m not.” She said primly.

Eda had a look of disbelief. “Really? Because you didn’t have a problem calling out Bonehead on his crap.” She said snarkily.

“That is because I am under no delusions as to his nature.” She said, “Belos’ rise to power and initial rule was tyrannical and cold, utterly without mercy. I, and many others, chose to join his burgeoning power because it was literally either him or complete chaos and anarchy. Not everyone can survive it as well as you, Edalyn.” She said archly, almost daring her to protest.

Eda opened her mouth to do just that, but paused, considering. Ultimately, she sighed, pushing herself away from the table. “Yeah, that’s true. I still hate him, and I always will, but I can get why people shacked up with him, even if I disagree with him on principle.” She grudgingly, painfully admitted. Giving her mother a level look. “This, as short, weird, and awkward as it’s been, was nice. I really hope you keep in touch for real, okay?” She said softly, before walking away.

Gwen just smiled, tears of relief and sadness filling her eyes. It wasn’t much… but it was a start.

[lukatheselkie]

HMC - “I’ve missed you. But it seems like you’re not happy to see me.”

@hetaliamondaychallenge

Pairing: England x OC (Wisp)

Warnings: Non-consensual touching/nipping

Some info about the OC I used here! He’s a fae; more specifically, half Ghillie Dhu and half Pixie. I did extensive research and I am being as respectful as I can every time I write him. He’s lived in a birch forest his entire life, though he was discovered by the nations when he was very young. They took him into their care since he’s an orphan, and even though he lives in a birch forest in Scotland now, they still visit and sometimes take him home for a visit. His home is in the forest though. This mentions bows; Lichtenstein gifts him bows, and he absolutely loves them. Some of the others have taken up this habit, so he has an arrangement of bows. Most of the time there’s more bow than hair to be seen. If anyone wants to learn more about him, here’s a link to his form! My profile pic is one of my favourite PiCrews of him.

    Wisp lifts his head up when the sounds of the forest around him get quieter. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s there. He had been splashing in the creek near where he sleeps at night, waiting for his bows to be cleaned. The sudden change in atmosphere warrants his attention though, so he grabs his bows out of the water and places them on a nearby rock. He sniffs the air, and frowns at the unfamiliar scent. Who could be visiting him? He clips the bows back into his hair, not wanting to go anywhere without them, and makes his way through the trees silently.

    Wisp lifts his head up when the sounds of the forest around him get quieter. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s there. He had been splashing in the creek near where he sleeps at night, waiting for his bows to be cleaned. The sudden change in atmosphere warrants his attention though, so he grabs his bows out of the water and places them on a nearby rock. He sniffs the air, and frowns at the unfamiliar scent. Who could be visiting him? He clips the bows back into his hair, not wanting to go anywhere without them, and makes his way through the trees silently.

    When he gets to the edge of the forest he camouflages himself, just in case. Usually an unfamiliar scent means fae hunter, but not always. It’s dusk, so it’s unlikely the person is a child. But if they are, he has to get to them before anything else does. A bit of water falls into his eyes, and he wipes frantically at it. He should have shaken off his bows! It’s too late now; doing so would surely draw attention. He sniffs at the air again, and follows the scent a few meters to his right. He sighs in relief when he sees Arthur, but it’s short-lived. He un-camouflages himself and stamps over to him, albeit still within the tree line. “Arthur!”

    “Wisp!” A smile lights up his face. It’s been a long time since he’s seen that smile, but it doesn’t make him any less upset. Arthur pauses when he sees the frown on the fae’s face. “I’ve missed you. But it seems like you’re not happy to see me.” Wisp bristles angrily.

    “One-twenty! One-twenty days! No Arthur! Been gone! One-twenty days!” Arthur sighs heavily. “Wisp angry! Been long!” He looks around for something to throw at Arthur, but doesn't find anything that won’t hurt him. Another drop of water falls into his eye, reminding him of the bows. He yanks off the orange one Arthur brought him last time they saw each other, and throws it at him. “Why!? Why long!?” Arthur sighs again, picking up the wet bow and turning it over in his hands a few times.

    “I absolutely deserved that. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s what happened. I brought you a gift.” Wisp doesn’t stop frowning. He doesn’t even perk up at the mention of a gift. “What’s wrong?” Arthur steps closer. “Are you that upset? I’m sorry. I’ll try to visit every month, if that will make you happy.” He furrows his brows. “A month is thirty days, more or less. Who taught you how to count, anyway?”

    “Natalia.” He answers immediately.

    “Ah. Has she been by a lot?”

    “Every seven day. That week, she says.” Arthur nods.

    “Yes, that is a week. Do you know how long I was gone, then?” Wisp scrunches up his nose in concentration.

    “Four month.” Arthur nods. Wisp smiles brightly, and hops around excitedly. “Got right! Got right!” He giggles happily. “Got right, Arthur!” He turns to him, and freezes when he catches his scent again.

    “There’s something else wrong. You don’t ever frown. What’s wrong?”

    “Smell different.” Arthur visibly relaxes.

    “Is that all? Thank goodness. I thought it was something serious.”

    “Is serious! Why smell different!?” Arthur holds up the hand without the bow in it.

    “Alright, alright. It’s either my coat or my cologne. Christmas passed while I was gone and-”

    “Chris… mas?” Arthur stares at him for a long moment.

    “I forgot you don’t know what that is. It’s easy to take things for granted, I suppose. To put it short, it’s a celebration of friends and family. We get each other gifts and spend time together.” Wisp brings his hand up to the bows in his hair.

    “Christmas all time for Wisp.” He smiles fondly at the memories of receiving the bows, and spending time with the people that had given them to him after. Normally, he makes something for them as a thank you.

    “You could say that. But it’s on a certain day.” Wisp frowns deeply. “The sentiment is still there though!” Arthur rushes to say, not wanting to see him sad. “Speaking of sentiment, will you open your gift now?” He tugs a small present out of his coat pocket. “It has wrapping on it. You’ll have to tear it off first. Gently.” He knows how the fae is. Unless told to be gentle, he’s not. That could damage the gift, especially with his long nails.

    “Still angry smell different.” Arthur laughs quietly.

    “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Did I scare you?” He nods, sulking. “My apologies. But you know it now, right? I’ll try not to return with the smell, but if I do you don’t have to worry again.” Wisp bows his head and kicks at the ground.

    “...Like smell.” Arthur has to hold back his grin. He holds out the gift and his bow. He takes them, sticks the bow back in his hair, and pokes at the wrapping paper on the gift.

    “My hands are freezing from the water on your bow. How do you handle it? Do you need some blankets?”

    “No. Wisp fine! Warm. Not sure why.”

    “You might be able to regulate your temperature. I’ll ask Gwen when I see her next.” Wisp perks up at the mention of the doctor.

    “Gwen! Wanna see Gwen!” He wiggles excitedly.

    “I’ll tell her, I promise.” Wisp nods, and focuses on the gift in his hand again. He tugs at the wrapping paper, and holds each piece out to Arthur when he pulls them off. He tilts his head when he sees something shiny in the air pocket. “It’s a necklace. I made sure it’s long enough to pull on and off, so if it gets snagged on something it won’t hurt you. It’s strong, too, so it shouldn’t break. But if it does, I can have it repaired. I-I hope you like it.” He feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, and turns away. Wisp grabs the shiny chain and pulls it over his head, looking down at it happily. It’s off-white, and there’s something hanging on it. He grabs the hanging thing, and brings it up to his nose to look at. It’s a shiny birch leaf, attached to the chain by something the same colour as the necklace.

    “Pretty! Thank!” He runs out of the forest, knocking into Arthur. They tumble onto the ground, Wisp nipping at his cheeks and ears. “Thank! Thank thank thank!”

    “Alright, alright! You don’t have to say it so much!” He laughs breathlessly. “I’m glad you like it.” He turns his head in an attempt to hide his deepening blush, but it gives Wisp better access to his ear. He grunts quietly when he bites down hard enough he knows it’s going to leave a bruise. “Wisp, please. You’re too excited again.” The fae scrambles off Arthur, stumbling over his apology.

    “S… Ap… So so… Apollo…” Arthur pulls him into a hug so he’ll stop. Wisp cuddles into him with a sigh of content. “Sorry,” he mumbles out, closing his eyes. “Thank for gift. Necklace. Very pretty. Love.” Arthur kisses his temple, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. He should just tell Wisp he loves him. But he has no idea if the man knows what romantic love is. He should start there.     “I’m glad you like it. I have a serious question for you though.” He tilts his head to show he’s listening. “Do you know what romantic love is?” He nods.

    “Natalia taught.”

    “You two are close. Why did she teach you?”

    “So Wisp could find someone!” He seems proud of his words. “Someone pretty. Kind. Sweet. Loving. Someone that let Wisp be Wisp. Not upset. Someone that can take Wisp hyperness! Not get tired it. Someone…” He frowns deeply. “No word! No word!!!” Arthur pins his arms to his side.

    “Calm down. Please. I know you get aggravated when you can’t find a word for something, but please don’t. Not today. Not here. If we were in your forest, maybe, but not outside.” Wisp takes a few deep breaths.

    “Arthur right. Dangerous outside forest. Dangerous not house.” He nuzzles him, then licks his cheek.

    “I do wish you would at least warn me before you do that. I know you’re struggling with the concept of consent, but you can at least warn us. Please.”

    “Wisp try! Sorry.” He hangs his head. Arthur watches him for a long moment.

    “Don’t look so sad. Just keep it in mind for next time.” Wisp nods frantically.

    “Will!” He looks up and smiles at Arthur.

    “Your hair is an absolute mess.” He smoothes out the damp strands, shaking his head. “Were you washing your bows? I’m sorry I interrupted.”

    “Fine!” He giggles. “Nice see!” Arthur’s heart thumps at his cute expression.

    “Have you found the person you think Natalia was talking about?” Wisp shakes his head slowly.

    “Maybe… Don’t know…” He scrunches up his nose and brows.

    “If you have someone in mind, do you mind telling me who?” Instead of saying something, Wisp just points at him. “Me?” He nods sheepishly. Arthur can’t help but smile. “I had you in mind too.” Wisp lets out a happy puff of air through his nose.

    “Yay!” He giggles, and hops up to bounce around excitedly. “Love Arthur! Arthur love back!” He bounds around the Brit, who’s still on the ground. “Oh! Can date!?”

    “How do you know that word?”

    “Natalia show movie! Many! Know kiss too. Can kiss?” Arthur bows his head to hide his blush. Wisp crawls into his lap to look at his face, worrying that he may have upset him.

    “Yes, we can kiss,” he practically whispers. Wisp hums happily, and presses his lips to Arthur’s. The kiss is sloppy, and a bit too smiley, but it’s absolutely perfect to him.

[thegreatestofheck]

By Dawn pt. 4 ☼ John B Routledge ☼

find the complete masterlist for “By Dawn” as well as all of my other works here!

word count - 4.0k  warnings - mentions of violence tagging -  @simonsbluee @parkerpetertingle @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @hopelesswritingxd @diverrdown​ @outerbanksbro​ @ponyboys-sunsets​ synopsis -  John B meets a mysterious girl at his court ordered group therapy. After spending weeks trying to get to know her, he slowly realizes that she’s a tough nut to crack. But then one day, she leaves him a cryptic message…the night before she goes missing. With the disappearance of his father still so raw in his mind, John B refuses to lose anyone else. And he will stop at nothing until he finds her.   a/n - I’m so sorry about my tagging system, I’m trying to figure the whole thing out. I’ve been fooled. I’ve been using both gifs of Indyamarie Jean and Tashi Rodriquez, so I guess Gwen can be either of them! Also, most of the gifs are from Wattpad books, so I have no idea who to credit for them. 

                                                       ***

“John B?” Kie whispered. “What are we doing back here?”

All four of them snuck up to the house they had visited earlier that day, John B taking the lead.

“This is her house,” he whispered back. “I just need to get inside her room .”

“We’re not breaking into someone old ladies’s house, JB!” Pope was in the back of the line, his eyebrows pinched together. He had always been the nervous type, especially when it came to breaking and entering. 

“There’s got to be something in her room that’ll tell us what happened to her,” John B said. 

“He’s right,” JJ huffed, not crouching like the rest of them. “You guys can stay out here and keep watch if you’re too pussy.”

“Or, ya know, just to keep watch,” John B added with a jab to his ribs with his elbow. John B pressed his back against the house just underneath the window that he knew was Gwen’s. 

“What happens if the old lady walks in, huh?” Pope hissed. JJ shrugged. “What will you tell her you’re doing in her room?”

“Housekeeping?” JJ suggested with a coy smile. Pope rolled his eyes. 

Looking around in the darkness one last time, John B turned around and pushed the window open. 

JJ gave him a boost inside. 

John B was standing in Gwen’s room, but it didn’t look like anyone was living here at all. He turned in small circles as JJ struggled to pull himself inside. 

“Woah,” JJ said once he had pushed himself to his feet. “You sure-”

“This was where she was staying.” John B’s tone was harsh. He wasn’t angry with JJ, but he was more frustrated. 

The room was completely bare. Nothing hanging on the walls, no books or trinkets on the bookshelf, no laundry on the floor, no make-up on the vanity. The blankets were plain with only a single pillow on the bed. There was no rug to cover the hardwood floor. There were no purses, hats, bags, or coats hung around anywhere. 

There was no sign that anyone had ever lived here. 

“We’ve got to look around,” John B said once the shock had passed. “She might have left something.” 

JJ might have protested, but he bit his tongue and walked toward the closet. It was mostly empty, save for a few dresses and a sweater hung up in the corner. Three pairs of shoes lay in the corner. 

“If she stayed here,” JJ mumbled, more to himself than John B, “Then that girl is not like one I’ve ever met before.” 

John B didn’t respond. 

JJ jumped to see if there was anything on the top shelf. A small shoe box was pushed as far back into the corner as it would go. He struggled to reach it, barely feeling his fingers brush against the box. 

“JJ, shut up!” John B hissed as JJ grumbled and groaned trying to reach the box. Finally, JJ grabbed hold of it and pulled it down. He was expecting some kind of secret diary or a few love notes. He wasn’t ready for how heavy it would be. 

He flicked off the lid and his eyes fell open. 

“Hey, John B?” JJ asked, lifting the box open. “What’s your girlfriend doing with a gun?” 

John B looked up from the bed, his eyebrows pinched together. He was going to ask what JJ meant, but then he saw the handgun in the box and his heart dropped into his stomach. Once John B had seen the gun, JJ took it out of the box with a smile. 

“You shouldn’t touch that,” John B said, walking toward his friend. JJ’s grin grew wider. 

“Why not?” He dropped the box onto the floor and stood up against the wall with the gun lifted. “Will you take a picture for me?”

John B was baffled at JJ’s antics but he couldn’t even form the word “no”. 

JJ’s question was right. What was Gwen doing with a gun? Why was her room so bare? It was like she was trying to avoid any emotional attachment to this place. She told him once that she moved around a lot, but even the tourons he knew would bring momentos to their summer houses or hotel rooms. Everything about this room felt cold, unfeeling. The exact opposite of what he thought of Gwen. 

“Put the gun back, JJ,” John B said, turning back toward her bed. He looked through all of the drawers of the nightstand while JJ messed around with the gun. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but there had to be something somewhere that would tell him where she went. 

They searched almost every inch of the room, but there was nothing. Besides her clothes, the shoes, and the box with the gun in it, there was nothing.

“I don’t know how much longer we can be in here before she hears us,” JJ whispered, holding the gun loosely in his hand. With a heavy sigh, John B dropped into the bed, not really caring if he wrinkled the perfectly laid bed. 

But, as he did so, he heard a quiet thunk. He looked up at JJ, who scowled at the sound. 

“That came from-”

“-under the bed.” 

They both dropped to the ground. Sitting there on the floor was a phone, Gwen’s phone. 

“She must have hidden it under here,” John B said, his hands shaking as he reached out to grab it. 

“Who leaves behind their phone when they go out?” JJ asked. John B turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

“The same person who keeps a gun in their closet and leaves mysterious voicemails.” John B pushed himself to his feet, staring at the phone in his hands. “Someone was after her, she said so in her voicemail. She’s got a gun to protect her and she hides her phone because it’s the only thing that can connect her to anyone else. Someone was after her, JJ, and whoever it was, I think they got her.” 

JJ’s mouth went dry. 

“Guys!” Kie called quietly from underneath the open window. “You gotta get out of there!” 

“What?” JJ ran to the window.

“Someone’s coming.” 

Gwen’s window was on the side of the house, openly visible to the street from across the way. If Kie was right and there was someone coming to the house, John B and JJ would have to wait until they were inside to make their break. 

John B and JJ pressed themselves against the wall. John B’s heart pounded against the inside of his chest, sweat beading down his neck. They heard the front door slam open. JJ jumped, holding the gun to his chest and his eyes shut. 

“Can we go now?” He whispered, his words barely audible. John B waited for the sound of pounding footsteps to near before he let out a single breath.

“Go.” 

JJ didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and nearly jumped head first out the window. John B peeked outside to see Kie and Pope helping him out of the dirt. 

“Is that a gun?” Kie asked, her whispered voice a few octaves higher than usual. John B crawled out after him, shutting the window and running around the building to where Kie, Pope, and JJ were hiding in the back. 

“Why do you have a gun?” Pope asked hurriedly. 

“We found it!” JJ tried to defend himself. 

“I told you to put that back!” John B looked at JJ with wide eyes. 

“Shut up all three of you!” 

Kie put her hands over JJ and John B’s mouths, sending a glare at Pope to keep him quiet. 

They hide behind the back of the house, hidden from the view of the street. The house was small with thin walls, which meant they could hear everything that happened inside. When they heard a strangled cry from inside, John B’s eyes went wide. 

“We left the old lady,” he said, breathless. 

“Shit,” JJ grumbled under his breath. 

Thankfully, they didn’t hear any cries of pain, just a little bit of whimpering and some blubbering. John B pressed his forehead against the wall of the house, his fingers curling. 

He knew something was wrong last night. He should have done something to help her then. But these guys, whoever they were, they were looking for Gwen or, at least, looking for something about her. If he could talk to them or get into their car, he might be able to...

Pope grabbed hold of his arm, as if he was able to read his friend’s mind. 

“They know where she is,” John B said quietly, listening to them tear the house apart. 

“Maybe.” Pope didn’t let him go. “Or maybe they don’t and you’ll get yourself killed going in there. How will that help Gwen?” 

 John B huffed out a deep breath but let his body relax. 

“Where’s her phone?” A loud and rough voice shouted, echoing through the house. 

“I don’t know,” the sobbing voice of the older woman followed. “She never let me in her room.” 

“You’re her handler, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” 

“Yes! But we kept out of each other’s business! For her protection and for mine.” 

“And what good has that done you?” 

The voices died down. The pogues waited as a silence filled the house. John B was afraid that his heartbeat was so loud that they would be able to hear it inside. JJ had his back pressed against the wall, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. Kie was shaking, her hands covering her mouth. 

All four of them jumped when the front door slammed open again and they dropped to the ground. Kie pressed her hand harder against her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut. John B reached back and put a hand on her elbow. 

He peered around the side of the house, watching the men, two of them, storming away across the street. John B crept around the side of the house before his friends could grab him again

Pulling out his phone, he snapped as many pictures of the men and the van as he could before JJ grabbed him from behind and pulled him backward. They stayed there, JJ’s arms around John B and laying flat against the grass, until the car was tearing down the street. 

“What the hell is happening?” Kie asked, her voice quivering. Pope helped both JJ and John B to their feet. 

“The old lady!” JJ called out before running for the front door. 

“JJ, wait!” 

All three of them ran after him. The front room looked like a tornado had blown through it. John B doubted the rest of the house looked any better. Standing in the middle of it all was the old woman. Her shoulders were sagged and it looked like she might have been crying. 

“Ma’am?” JJ took a small step forward. “We heard a kerfuffle and we-”

She spun around quickly, her eyes wide with fear. There was a bruise forming on her eye and blood trickled from her nose. 

“You’re the boy from before,” she said, not even looking at JJ. “Do you have Gwen’s phone?” 

“I thought you didn’t know Gwen.” John B crossed his arms and the old woman glowered at him. 

“Do you have it or not?”

John B lifted the phone, laying it flat in his palm. The woman let out a happy sigh and smiled. The smile faded into a scowl. 

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you broke into my house to steal that thing, young man. But, in doing so, I believe you may have saved my life as well as your own,” she said. 

“What’s going on?” John B asked. “Where is Gwen? Who were those men? Why did she leave this?” 

The woman held up her hand and John B fell silent. 

“I don’t have much information,” she said. “That was part of the deal. But I will tell you what I know.”

                                                 ***

Gwen lifted her head, blood trickling down her nose. She shifted her jaw and slowly opened her eyes. 

“Dawn, Dawn, Dawn,” the man in front of her drawled, wiping his bloody knuckles on a rag. 

“That’s not my name,” Gwen said. She wagged her head back and forth to shake the hair from her eyes. 

“No?” 

“No.” Gwen stretched her stiff neck. “But it would be nice to know the name of my most humble host.” 

“You can call me whatever you want. But I happen to know that names have a certain...power and you don’t want to go giving that power away willy nilly.” 

Gwen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“I wasn’t aware we were living in Ancient Greece,” Gwen told him. She gave a yawn, just for dramatic effect. “I know you want something from me. Just ask.” 

“Where is your father?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What is he doing?”

“I don’t know.” 

“What’s his next move?”

“No idea.”

“Who are his contacts in DC?” 

“Gonna have to ask him about that one.”

“So, you don’t know anything?” Gwen shook her head. “You don’t expect me to believe that.”

“Look, dude,” Gwen said with a short exhale through her nose. “I don’t know anything about my dad. He sent me away when I was a kid and I haven’t seen him since.” 

“That’s unfortunate. I was hoping to get some information out of you before he got here.” 

Gwen’s eyes widened, her mouth going dry. Every bone in her body tensed. She tried to ease up by letting out a breath, but the air wouldn’t leave her lungs. 

“My dad is...coming here?” 

The man turned to look at Gwen with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes.” He said it as if it was obvious and then he sighed. “We were hired by your father to collect you, but I don’t see why we can’t ask a few questions first.” 

Gwen tried to collect herself, but the idea of meeting her father once again, after ten years of being away from him, was clouding her vision. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was like a desert. 

Once, John B took her out surfing. She had never done it before and he wanted to teach her. She had done well when she was on the water, but as soon as her feet were back on the land, she fell flat on her face. Gwen took in a mouth full of sand as John B laughed. The feeling in her mouth now was similar as it was then. 

“I told you already,” she said finally. “I don’t know anything about my father.” 

“Well,” the man said with a sigh. “That’s unfortunate. Still, there’s always a chance we could unlock some deep rooted memories. Jaz?”

One of the henchmen guarding the door stepped forward, his hands clasped in front of him. 

“Yes, sir?”

“Bring me my tools. There’s got to be some information locked away in that pretty head somewhere.” The smile the man gave her was a cruel one and it made Gwen sick to her stomach. 

“You hurt me and my father will make you pay for it,” she ground out through her teeth. The man laughed, echoing through the empty warehouse room. His laugh sent shivers up Gwen’s spine. 

“Your father doesn’t care about what I do to you, Dawn. He knew exactly who I was when he sent me to find you.” Shameful tears pricked in Gwen’s eyes and she looked away from him. “Yet he hired me anyway. What does that say about how much your father cares about you?”

Gwen lowered her head as a single tear trailed its way down her cheek.

***

“You really don’t know a lot, do you?” JJ grumbled holding a tea cup in his hand. Kie and the old woman, Kara was her name, both glared at him. 

“I know more than you,” Kara said. JJ shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, slurping on the tea in his cup. 

“So, Ms. Kara,” Pope interjected. “You said that Gwen isn’t her real name. Do you know what it is?”

Kara gave a quick shake of her head. 

“I was just her handler to make sure she was safe and give her a good cover if anyone on the island came knocking,” Kara told them, tightening her grip around her chipped tea cup. “It’s like I said, all I know is that her father is some kind of high and mighty drug lord or something of the kind. He sent her away when she was young and she’s spent the rest of her life running.”

John B had his head in his hands. Everything he thought he knew about Gwen, everything he thought he knew, none of it was real. But how much did he even really know about her? He knew a fake name and a fake address and some vague story about her father and that her favorite color was yellow and her favorite number was seven. Other than that, what did he really know about her?

“You know, I imagine that girl was more Gwen than she was ever Dawn.” Kara said, observing John B’s distress. “She told me about you, boy.”

John B looked up at her, his eyes swimming with tears. 

“She did?” 

“Mmm-hmm.” Kara leaned back and crossed her arms over her belly. “Didn’t say very much, but she was very fond of you.”

“Don’t say ‘was’ like she’s already gone.” John B didn’t mean to be so abrupt, but the words came out of him without him meaning to. He was going to apologize, but Kara just smiled.

“You’re right, my boy. There is hope for that girl yet.”

“What can we do?” John B asked, leaning forward. 

Kara pushed herself to her feet, hobbling over to where John B sat. She took his hands in her cold, wrinkled ones. 

“You find that girl, John Routledge. Whatever it takes. And you bring her back here. You bring her home.” 

“How? Where do we start?” Kie asked, taking a step toward them. 

“That phone you got there?” Kara nodded toward John B’s hands. He tapped it against his palm. “Everything about Gwen is in there. That’s all you’ve got to go on. But she was a clever girl. There was always more to her than met the eye.” 

“That I knew,” John B said with a smile. His smile fell and his face became serious as he nodded. “Thank you.”

Ms. Kara stepped away from them, looking up at the four teenagers with tears in her eyes. 

“Can’t we just go to the police?” Pope asked after a moment of silence. 

“God, no,” Ms. Kara scoffed. “There’s no way in hell they’d do anything for her.”

Pope sighed and lowered his head. 

“You bring that girl home, you hear?” Ms. Kara said, a few of the tears falling from her eyes. “And don’t you darken my doorstep again. That’ll get us both into a world of trouble.” 

For a moment, John B wondered why she was crying. They had already decided that Gwen was alive and Ms. Kara had to know he would get her back. But then it hit him. She was Gwen’s handler and Gwen had been taken in her care. The tears in her eyes were tears of guilt and shame. 

All John B could do was nod.

***

“Are you sure you want to go down this path, dude?” Pope asked as they walked up to the Chateau. “I think if we go any further, there’s no coming back.” 

John B let out a heavy breath, clutching Gwen’s phone in his hand. He could walk away and forget about her. Maybe it would save him a lot of pain. 

But there would be no forgetting her. He could barely close his eyes without seeing her face. He couldn’t imagine lying in bed and thinking about what was happening to her. 

He didn’t care what happened to him. If he could do anything to save her, then he was going to. 

“You don’t have to help, but there’s no way I’m leaving her out there alone,” John B said, looking at the ground. He turned around to face his friends. “I can’t go through that again.” 

For a moment, his friends said nothing. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t want their help. He needed them, but he couldn’t force them into something dangerous like this. 

“I’ll be with you every step of the way, man,” Pope said, taking a step forward. “Except, I’ve got to work on an essay for my scholarship, so there’s that.” 

John B smiled. JJ stepped up too and crossed his arms. 

“I’ve got a gun now, so I guess that makes me the sole protector of the pogues,” he said with a grin as he lifted the gun upward. 

“Don’t screw around with that thing, JJ,” Kie said, giving him a light shove. “We’re all with you, John B.” 

His smile grew wider. He held on tighter to Gwen’s phone. 

“Let’s get working then.”

We’re coming for you, Gwen. Don’t give in. We’re coming for you.

***

Blood trickled down from her nose, soaking through her jean shorts and pooling on her bare skin. Her head swam and she tried to shake away the cloudiness. 

All that her brain could come up to think about was her only friend, John Booker Routledge. Her Booker. She hoped he got her voice mail message, that it was enough to steer him away from coming after her. But even after only knowing him for the weeks that she had, Gwen knew he wasn’t the kind of guy to give up that easily. 

Part of her loved that about him. His stubbornness, his tenacity, his deep passion for others. But the other part of her knew that same stubbornness could get him killed, especially if he tried to find her. 

She prayed to God that he had the sense to stay away, that his friends were smart enough to keep him from following after her.  

“Storm’s coming in, boss,” the henchman Jaz said, as he walked into the room. Hazily, Gwen lifted her head. More blood than before ran down her face, stemming from the split in her nose. Her fingers were curled around the arm rests of her chair, her joints locked tight as she tried to keep keep herself from screaming. 

“You think the warehouse won’t survive a little storm?” The man, Boss, asked, wiping his knuckles against a wet rag to wipe away the blood. 

“It’s not just a little storm.” Jaz stood at attention, his chin lifted. “It’s hurricane Agatha.”

Boss sighed and lowered his hands. 

“Go get the supports up on the building. I want this place still standing by morning time,” he told Jaz, who nodded and walked away. “Looks like you’ll have a free night tonight. I’ll have to get somewhere safe, of course.” 

Gwen spat blood onto the floor by his feet before looking up with a smile. Her teeth were stained red. 

“Of course.” 

“I don’t want to get your hopes up, Dawn, but if the storm hits hard enough, there’s a chance there isn’t going to be any power. It might delay your father’s trip here. Which means you get to spend more time with me.” 

He smiled wide and sadistic. Gwen tried to match it with as much sarcastic energy as she could muster. 

“Wonderful.” 

[the1rei]

Little Moments: Reboot Chapter Nineteen: Speaking my Language By  Ericobard and shadows59 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandom: Ben 10 Series Relationship: Ben Tennyson/Gwen Tennyson Some Additional Tags: Bullying, No proofreading, Family is Drama, Long burn

Summer’s over and school is in session, made worse as it is middle school.  Amidst the troubles of the new year Gwen finds something she’s always wanted and was beginning to fear she would never have, a friend.  Except Ben of course. 

Read my review below:

Why is Gwen still going to an elementary school?  It is directly stated in the story that Ben is in middle school, "Middle School blows. You're so lucky you don't have to deal."  They are identical ages, so they should be in the same grade as they were in the original, or an explanation should be given as to why they aren't in the same grade.  Gwen's school is a K-12 school; it wouldn't be called an elementary school.  

Gwen answering her phone in school and her receiving no repercussions for throwing away the note Mrs. Adams wrote to her mother shows that scene in chapter eleven was completely needless.  It should have ended after Gwen's viable scolding.  

" - even old Squid Face was this horrible!" I suspect Shadows59 meant to say 'wasn't' here.

The phone call in the middle of school and the deluge of texts that they exchange is supposed to show that they are a sweet couple that is very affectionate with each other.  But it ends up coming across as they are obsessed with each other in an unhealthy way, so much so that they can't go very long without contact of some form.  Even with young infatuation, couples need time apart so they can continue to be individuals, but Ben and Gwen come across as clingy and co-dependent.  She even calls the phone a 'lifeline' to Ben as if she'd die without him.  This wasn't the case in the original, and Shadows59 came across as a much more mature author in how he depicted a healthy but highly romantic love between two kids.  

Flint continues to be a caricature of a creepy guy.  He just says disgusting, hateful things so the reader will be disgusted by him and hate him, but any reader that understands this will just see him as a shallow character with no substance.  Antagonists need to have well-reasoned motivations behind their actions, and yet for all the times the story has brought up Flint, it never tells the reader why he is the way he is.  

Additionally, the things Flint, an eleven-year-old, says are highly sexual and complex suggestions.  It's not the mere perversions of a boy who would say something such as 'show me your panties.'  Instead, he suggests an advanced form of sexual degradation play, which further raises questions about why he is the way he is.  

Even non-prestigious schools had computer labs and teachers who were experts to deal with them long before 1999.  Even with her affinity for computers, it's unrealistic that Gwen would have then said teacher or would be called in to deal with an administrator's computer.  Said computer might even be too old for her to understand at all.  Honestly, I feel like I would let this pass if the story was more like the show and not trying to be a serious story.  

Gwen comparing the reactions she gets from kissing Ben, her love interest in the story, to the reaction a younger brother gives to his older sister when she kisses him is, odd to say, incestuous.  These two reactions should not be comparable because the reaction she should be getting from Ben is one of a peer who hasn't come around to discovering the romantic feels he has for another peer.  The other is the reaction of a younger sibling at getting a kiss from an older sibling who is, in this case, Gwen peer.  So not only does this compare Ben and Gwen as sister and brother but also Ben as being younger than Gwen, making their romance come across as highly inappropriate.

In the original, Gwen has social anxiety, which prevents her from talking to Michelle at first, and it's only when she thinks of Ben is she able to encourage herself to be open the new girl.  This is a very relatable problem, and Gwen displays her courage and willingness to follow another's example, like a hero, overcoming it.  In the reboot, Michelle asks one innocent question, the first thing she has ever said to Gwen, and Gwen is ready to judge her as being like Marci.  Prejudging anyone is a very unheroic act, and Gwen has to remind herself that Ben wouldn't do something like that to convince herself to give Michelle a chance.  

It's unclear why Michelle finds what Gwen says funny, why it makes Gwen "crazy," or why this makes Michelle like Gwen.  In the original, Michelle is shown to be as lost and alone as Gwen, so it's natural to her to like the person who reaches out to her, on Gwen's own accord, and offers to show her around.  In the Reboot, Gwen has been conscripted by the principle to interact with Michelle and show her around.  That can be a fine way to bring to people who will be friends together, but the story of the original is stronger.  

Having Ben's liberal parents protesting a new army base is a weak stereotype.  It is a stereotype as no reason is given for them not to want the base built.  

It makes no sense that Michelle, probably before she was 11, would be able to sneak out and go to a protest that turned violent given that when Gwen came near violence in this story, teenagers and adults treated her like a toddler.  

Gwen comes across as bad friend allowing Marci to pull Michelle away from her with putting up a fight to get her back even though she knows Marci is lying, and she is abandoning Michelle to Marci's lies and possible bullying.  Instead of doing anything to stop this, she just sits down and feels sorry for herself, thinking badly of other people, especially Ben.  Gwen isn't concerned with Michelle; she'd not watching the new girl make sure Macri's not making her feel uncomfortable or anything, instead just assuming that she would fall for Marci's corruptive influence.  

There is more overuse of italicized text in this chapter where it displays translated speech.  First, this visual clue that Gwen hears translated speech weakens the story, because in the original, where the speech was not emphasized, the reader is confused with Gwen as to what is happening, but because we already know or can guess that something is happening we're just waiting for Gwen to figure it out.  This distances the reader from the character's situation unnecessarily.  Second I am left wondering what would happen if Gwen was in her plumber suit, speaking to someone on the phone, in a different language, and emphasized what she was saying.  I assume the universe would implode, or explode, or both.

Marci's using the word cousin in place of boyfriend as a jab at Gwen's relationship with Ben would be good if it didn't require Gwen to understand french to be effective.  Marci has been established to be able to speak some french, but Gwen hasn't, so there is no way that Marci would know Gwen would understand her.  If Gwen couldn't understand what she said, then it would lose a lot of its punch.  It's a cause of the scene being written from the author's perspective instead of the character's.

"she was going to drive through a perfect little nose" Don't try to blame reflexes when there is clear intent on the part of the character.

Gwen anticipates that Michelle is going to leave her for Marci several times, and it's only after she refuses to several times that Gwen starts to trust her.  The foundation of their friendship is Gwen constantly mistrusting Michelle.

Every time Gwen nearly explodes on Marci, I'm just reminded of how much healthier she dealt with her anger in the original, channeling it into little pranks she pulled on Marci with her magic.  

"I kind of like the one I have - " Shadows59, you probably meant to say 'ones' here.

The previous chapters had Max leave and created a great deal of drama.  Erico even stated, "Grandpa is gone... They have nobody else they can turn to... They only have each other..."  Every indication in the story and the co-author indicate that Max is gone, and yet he just shows back up in the story like none of the drama of him leaving in the previous chapters occurred.  The original lacked that overly dramatic element, so when Gwen calls Max to find out why she can speak french, it makes sense they can just talk to him, whereas in the reboot, it doesn't.  There's no pay off for all that drama.

"Some part of her - most of her was sure it was Grandpa saying that something came up and she felt sick at the idea. She missed him. She'd been missing him since he disappeared and how could he? None of the eight weeks made that bit any smaller..."   Shadows59, you should consider revising this section.  It isn't clear what is meant by 'Some part of her-'  Because that is unclear the 'None of the eight weeks made that bit any smaller...' part isn't clear either.  Additionally, the sections are separated, but they feel like they are part of the same thought and are referring to one another without clarification.  

"No!" "No!" Shadows, you either repeated the "No!" accidentally here, or the two knows don't need two sets quotation marks.  

"He was just Ben and hers and she wasn't going to share him, not even with Michelle..." This shows that Gwen has a very unhealthy attachment to Ben that goes far beyond romance and young love.

"He was just Ben and hers and she..." There should probably be commas after 'Ben' and 'hers' as they are separate statements.

The added content for Michelle doesn't add much to the story of their friendship.  Some might have found it sudden that the pair met in this chapter, and one chapter later, we're best friends, but that at least was marked with a time jump, so the development of their friendship could take a mundane pace normally in the skipped time.  Here their transition from strangers to best friends really does seem sudden, and there's no real reason why these two because so attached after just a few hours.  There's no real reason for their closeness save on Gwen's part because she notices that Michelle is somewhat like Ben, an unsettling fact given how obsessed she is with the boy.  

Ben and Gwen sound like old people talking about 'kids fashion these days.'

"she was so much faster and back on her feet before she even got any water on her skirt." It's physically impossible to pour water all over someone's head while their head is in your lap and not get wet.  

I'll just say there is a big difference between Gwen staring a little because Ben is shirtless and her ogling him while describing droplets of water running down his muscles.  One is appropriate for an eleven-year-old, and the other is not.  Once more, I just think these characters are older in Shadows59's mind, not that he's trying to be inappropriate.  

That ending is so cute, I love it.

-Erico

"...carries much more depth and heart because Michelle's first day and Gwen's first day back address it from Gwen's perspective." This sentence makes no sense.

You make it sound like Gwen is taking advantage of Michelle's uncertainty.  

It makes no sense for Gwen's classmates to ostracize her for doing things for the school staff; all students get called to do such things.  So unless the faculty is ostracizing the other students and only calling on Gwen for help, the students' opinion of her shouldn't be affected by that.  You are also showing just as well as I that Gwen has an unhealthy attachment to Ben when her focus is getting the day to get back to him.  An attachment that again, goes far beyond healthy romantic attachment.  

So what I hear from you is that Michelle is guarded because the concern she sees from people is usually because she is her father's daughter, and its more their concern for him, or his opinion of them, then it is for Michelle herself.  This isn't expressed in the story, and while it would be difficult to do so while locked in Gwen's perspective without creating awkward dialogue, it is still possible to express it.  For instance, by Michelle extending her father's gratitude instead of her own, or assuring people that she will tell her father what a good job they did.  

You talk about Gwen and Michelle like they are going through the friendship equivalent of love-at-first-sight.  This is a trope that is used, most commonly, by poor writers to establish romance first and justify it later, but real friendship, like real love, is slow to start.  The original had that at least in feeling; the reboot has chosen to forgo it instead.

(As always, please go leave Shadows59 a nice positive review he won’t delete.)

[lovequinn]

So I’ve always been curious and wasn’t to sure if you’ve answered this before but, what exactly is it about mg that made you fall in love with it in the first place and what makes you keep coming back (even though I know that right now your in a bit of a funk with that show)

i think i’ve answered this before pretty quickly/succinctly but i’m not sure if i’ve ever gone in-depth, so i can do that now when i have the time to kill! this may be the longest answer to an ask that i’ve ever written so read at your own risk!

i initially bought tickets when i heard taylor (louderman) was cast, since i had been dying to see taylor live in something since 2012. i bought those tickets in fall 2017 when they went on sale, for june 2nd 2018, about a month after i would get home from college for the semester. so i had some time to hype myself up.

in that time period i really, really fell in love with the rest of the cast. they seemed bright eyed and fun and watching the excitement as so many of them got ready to make their broadway debuts was just infectious. i don’t talk about it a lot, but the first half of 2018 was a pretty dark period for me. looking forward to seeing this show, waking up early before class to watch them get nominated for 12 tonys, waiting for erika’s vlogs each week, are the things that kind of kept me going and kept me smiling while everything else in my life was going on. i also started making a new friend on here with my newfound love of mean girls: i had followed gwen ( @erikahenningsen ) for a few years since the pitch perfect fandom days, but when she popped up on my dash with mg content, i actually reached out and started talking to her. and idk if i’ve ever told her but that helped me a lot in a weird, lonely spot in my life (as talking to her tends to do in ALL my weird, lonely spots now, two years later).

by the time that day in june came around, i had decided to leave college (something else i don’t talk a lot about) due to my mental health being completely in pieces. i didn’t know what i was doing with myself from there. i didn’t really feel like i had anything to look forward to long-term, so i was just hanging on to things i was excited for in the short-term, and the biggest of those things was mean girls. so it’s honestly a miracle that my expectations weren’t totally crushed with that much riding on it lmao. but i just remember sitting in that theater and feeling two and a half hours of pure, unadulterated joy for the first time in months (and it was the day that the bus got stuck onstage! my first theatrical mishap!). i was just so HAPPY, and i needed that more than ever.

i was for sure so excited to see my “idol” (i guess that’s the word?) onstage for the first time, i was super excited to meet gwen in person for the first time, as i said in a previous ask i also ended up getting my first job from that weekend, but i went back to see it again ten days later mostly just because i wanted to feel that initial joy again. and i did. it left a grin on my face for the next week.

then i won the lottery in august to see jonalyn’s regina debut and getting to watch her have that moment and watching the cast support her (and getting to sit front row for the first time!) just made me feel so warm inside and made me really start getting attached to these wonderful people and the work they put in eight times a week. the next time i went, a week and a half later, is when i met the rest of what would become the “mellow cool squad” and later turn into my chosen family. from that point on…it was history.

so, i fell in love with this show because it brought me happiness during a time when not a lot of things did. 

but i kept coming back because of what it brought me afterwards. because of mean girls, i found my best friends. because of mean girls, i met the person who gave me the most meaningful romantic relationship i’ve ever had (no matter how it ended). this show has been a backdrop and a safe place to gather for so many special moments over the past two years, and it has just become a part of my life in a way i can’t describe. when i’m feeling down, i can be cheered up by a trip to mean girls. when i want to celebrate something, i usually would ask that we celebrate at mean girls. it’s so hard to describe “why” exactly i keep going back, except that it just…makes me happy. it feels like a home.

and this is due in no small part to the people in that theater, onstage and off. they are a huge reason why i’m so passionate about this show. the staff and security at the august wilson have made me feel taken care of in a way that i am so thankful for. i will always appreciate having a buddy on security who, when i had to run to the lobby at the end of act one because of some weird piercing headache, came to bring me water and tylenol and sat down to joke with me about his kids until intermission started. i appreciate having someone at the box office who asks how i’m doing and what i’ve been up to lately when i go to pick up my tickets. and this cast…some of the most meaningful words on dark days have come from erika when she’s seen i’m having a rough time. some of the funniest conversations i’ve ever had in my life, and the ones that have taught me the most about myself as a person, have been the ones i’ve had with gianna. taylor has gone out of her way to joke with me and ask how work is going, because she knows how much of the work i do is due to how much i look up to her. and so on. every person who has joined or left this cast has left an impact on me in one way or another. it’s why i go out of my way to see every understudy i can! not just because i want to experience the performance for myself, but also because i want to support the people who have, either knowingly or unknowingly, supported me in little ways.

so………..this was a HUGE ramble but basically. i love this show because it has fundamentally improved my life and made me happier, at every level, as i’ve grown and changed as a person for two years (even if i don’t always agree with the decisions they make, as y’all love to point out). and as long as i have the money and the time, i keep going back because of that! that’s why i guess, to put it in your words, i’ve been in a bit of a “funk” about it lately. that show that made me so happy is starting to disappear, both bc of content changes and bc the people who made it a home are moving on. i hope any of this made sense. ❤️

[depressed-sock]

Monster of the Week 2

one

Words: 3k

This work is entirely a self-indulgent throw a bunch of Oc’s at the TMA world and see what happens lmao

Tw: threatening of bodily harm

sections 2 and 5: stranger fear, harassment of a colleague, purposefully using the wrong name, mention of intent to gaslight, it/it's pronouns used

section 3: flesh fear, not actively descriptive but it deals with meat if you want to skip it.

Click. 1

“Investigation of Why the Archive never stays organized, brought to the Archives attention by me for the last thirty years." She stresses the words, trying to make her frustration clear to everyone who can hear her in the room. "Investigation begins on July 9th, 2014, and is being investigated by archival assistant Olivia Stanek.”

"So, first things first." She pauses, taking in a deep breath as her hands stay firmly clasped together before she finally releases her pent up anger with a quick movement. Standing up sharply and banging her hands on the desk. "What do you people not understand when I say to put things back where you found them!"

She turns with a barely held back growl, glaring at the now suspiciously empty room around her. "You fucking little cunts, I will find you and I will get you to leave my organization system alone!"

Click. 2

"Did you try turning it off and on again?" The man next to them sighs heavily, his shoulders already taking on a stiffness of agitation.

"Yes, Rupert. That was literally the first thing I did." Corwin glares at the blonde man who now decides to lean against their desk. His face forced into a quiet contemplating frown as he stares at the static-filled screen of their computer.

"My name is Rick, and did you click any suspicious links?" He glances at them, missing their glare that's turned into the perfectly innocent look of boredom.

"Do I look that stupid Rupert? Really?" They cross their arms over their chest defiantly, watching carefully as the man's frown twitches into a barely held back snarl.

He's already breaking down and the day has barely started. An accomplishment that's taken only a few weeks of patience and maybe Corwin is a little too proud of that.

"Rick. My name is Rick. And," he sucks in a deep breath before blowing it back out, "You know what, move I need to check the cable from the computer to the screen." He pushes their chair back without their consent, kneeling down under the desk to look for the cable.

The cable that they had purposefully cut with scissors earlier. After they unplugged it of course. They're not that stupid.

"Why is this cut?" He brings half of the cable out, holding it up for them to see while he tries his best to glare them down.

An attempt that feels more like dealing with an upset child. So they treat him exactly like one. "If I knew that, why would I have called you?"

"You!” He bites back the rest of his reply. Taking a moment before he finally grits out, “Just use a different computer until I find a replacement cable!" He stands up fast and awkwardly, knee slamming into the desk and forcing out a string of curses before he finally storms out of the room in anger.

"You got it, Rupert!"

The scream of rage that follows is a lot more satisfying than they'd thought it would be. Maybe they should go out into the world and do this more often. Maybe it's their true calling.

"Was that the doppelganger thing? I figured it would have quit by now." Olivia walks up from behind them, coming to a stop beside them as she tries her best to force her greying hair up into a messy bun. "Or at the very least murdered you next."

"Yeah, I think we need to start upping our tactics." They stare at the doorway he had left through an evil grin slipping free, "I say we gaslight it next."

She gives them a look of disgust, "Corwin really?"

They shrug in response, "It's not my fault it decided to kill and replace the I.T guy. Or that it's choosing to suffer by continuing to work here."

"Speaking of suffering. Where's the statement you were investigating in California?" She leans just a bit closer to them, her hand gripping the edge of their desk. While her eyes take in every aspect of their existence.

"I don't know. I put it back after I was done writing down the details I needed." Which is most of the truth. They put it back. Then Jordan took it back out and then they lost it in California because neither of them wanted to go back to the campsite.

Corwin's not going to tell her that. At least not yet. Maybe when Jordan pisses them off at some point but right now they'll wait to throw him under the bus.

Even if she's towering menacingly ever closer over them, her voice a whisper of threats, "If I find out that's a lie, I will personally hunt you down and skin you for the Stranger."

"Right, you do that. It's been great chatting with you Liv, now if you don't mind I'm trying to make the doppelganger’s life a living hell."

Click. 3

"Imani! Do you know where the werewolf files got put?" Jordan's voice echoes through the room of filing cabinets. Well, she thinks room, but it almost feels like an endless warehouse at times. Like now for example. She's pretty sure she's somehow gotten lost even though she's exactly where she needs to be.

"Um, I think it's somewhere near me?" She responds a bit more quietly but nonetheless heard; the room already echoing with her voice. It's what she likes about this particular room, no matter how loud or quiet she tried to be if someone else was in the room they'd hear her. "Let's see, nightmares about trees, mutated frogs, hmmm oh is this…. WHAT THE HELL."

She barely has enough time to cover her mouth and nose with her sleeve, backing away but still not fully able to escape the smell that layers itself against her tongue.

"Imani?"

She gags, backing up further away. Taking a second before she feels safe enough to speak muffled words, "Why is there a filing cabinet that's filled with rotting meat? This is… oh gods this is disgusting."

"....Oh um, I'm pretty sure that's supposed to be in Artifact storage. One second, let me go get someone to come collect it."

Her brow furrows as she stares at the cabinet, confusion becoming more and more prominent, "What? Why is there supposed to be a filing cabinet full of meat in Artifact storage?"

"Good question! I have zero answers." Is all she gets out of him before she hears the door shutting behind him. How did he even find the door that fast? She’s never been able to find the door that fast in the last few months she's worked here.

When she had applied for the job she had thought she had known what to expect. Creepy things, supernatural things. Gwen had given her a full rundown of the fears and the possibility of not being able to quit. She knew what to expect.

But knowing and experiencing are apparently two different things. And she's pretty sure nothing could have really prepared her for… this.

Click. 4

“I’m thinking we need more empathy in the Archives,” Gwendolyn says, as she adjusts her glasses, though it seems to do nothing to help as she continues to squint at the paper in front of her.

Oliva feels her face crawling into a snarl in response. Her fingers gripping into the edge of Gwendolyn’s desk she leans against. “Which one of those little fucks complained about me?” She would be sure to personally show whoever it was, exactly how empathetic she couldn’t be.

Gwendolyn turns her squinting from the page straight up to her with a look of amusement followed by an exasperated sigh, “Love, is there something I should be aware of if you think someone's complaining about you?"

Olivia glares down at her before a smile splits her lips and she lets out a bark of laughter, "Would I really need to tell you that bright eyes?"

Gwen's laugh is light, her eyes taking on a brighter sheen before fading to a dull grey, "No, I guess not. But I’m talking about empathy in general. Corwin seems more intent on harassing I.T than ever before, Jordan has begun to withdraw from people, Imani is starting a bad habit of asking questions she shouldn't, and you continue to be you.” The last part of her complaint dulled as she pries one of Olivia’s hands free from her desk, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“I don’t see how this is a problem?" She shrugs, not bothering to free her hand. "Everyone in the Institute is some kind of fucked up. So Jordan’s a little more untrusting of everyone and Imani is overly curious, she certainly wouldn't be here if there was no attachment to the beholding. It’s all problems that will eventually resolve itself.”

“I see you didn’t mention Corwin or yourself in that.” Gwen let’s go of her hand to set her glasses down. Quickly trying to rub the tiredness from her eyes.

“You love me just the way I am," she leans forward planting a soft kiss on Gwendolyn’s wrinkled brow, "and Corwin is trying to deal with our doppelganger issue.”

She grins widely in response, “I wouldn't have it any other way Love." Before her grin turns into a soft frown, "So, it was one of the poor lads in I.T? Which one?”

“Gwen, you already know who. And do you really expect me to ever show an interest in learning anyone’s name or Identity here?” She doesn’t bother to add on the last of her thoughts; considering how often people die. Too often to really get attached anymore.

“As much as I love you all thinking I’m all knowing I truly am not. Honestly though, I don’t think anyone here really has bothered with that. The poor thing chose very poorly in any case. Not much fear to be fed on when everyone is either already a stranger or you just have a deep-seated hatred for everyone and everything here. Not to mention, every single member here has been estranged from anyone they could call family.”

She narrows her eyes at that, “You know I’ve always wondered about that.”

“What? Do you really think any sane person with love and support would ever continue to work here? Let alone apply for a job here?”

"What does that make us then?" She leans forward, arms resting on Gwendolyn’s shoulders as their foreheads touch together.

"Two old women who are deeply in love with each other and bringing terror wherever we go."

"You always do know how to sweet talk me. But I'm still going to strangle the first person who doesn't put a statement back correctly."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Click. 5

"Alright, I've got your computer back in working order." The man claps his hands together, a look of accomplishment on his face.

A look that is quickly wiped away by Corwin’s own smile, "Great, but uh, something seems to be wrong with Olivia's computer now. Not sure what but it's stuck on this video and I can't seem to get it off."

"Why were you using Ms. Stanek's computer?" The man asks carefully. Lines of frustration already wrinkling around his eyes.

"Because you told me to use a different computer? Seriously are you always this forgetful Ralph?" They tut half heartedly with a shake of their head.

"What I meant by a different computer, was one of the dozens we have that no one else uses. NOT Ms. Stanek's.” They can almost see a static around him. A form that’s too long, too strange takes up the dark fuzzy spaces around him. It probably doesn’t even realize how badly it’s giving itself away.

"Well, I guess you should have been clearer then. Either way doesn't change the fact that the screen is still stuck on that video."

“I can’t believe this, why are you doing this?! I thought we were friends, Corwin!” He finally breaks, words echoing in slightly different tones against the emptiness of the room. They can’t help the sharp grin as it finally asks exactly the question Corwin has been waiting for. They stand from their chair, immediately crowding it’s space.

“See the thing is Ralph,” they lean in close, “I don’t have friends. So you being my friend is incredibly suspicious. So suspicious that I may have to do something about it. And I’m sure you don’t want that, do you Ralph?”

It tries not to look intermediated by their smaller stature but fails as their eyes take on a dangerous hue. It’s voice comes out weakly, now a pale imitation of what it was, "my name’s rick..."

“No. It’s not.” They know. They see.

It’s beginning to shake. Fear overriding its previous anger. Until finally it turns, fleeing the room. Not bothering to try and rebuttal them. A disappointing outcome to say the least. They had at thought it’d try to murder them. It’s why they didn’t point out the real reason they knew he wasn’t Rick.

It would have been funnier though if they had. They can already imagine what would happen. Watching the dawning realization on its face and it immediately looking down at his ID to find a man who looks vastly different than it. After all, everyone's ID photo on their work badges are all polaroids that have been laminated on.

Too many missteps from previous generations that made it necessary. At least it’ll make it easier to know if the doppelganger decides to switch to someone else in the Archives.

They wonder if it'll finally leave now.

Something in the back of their mind tells them it’s far too late for that.

Click. 6

"Jordan! Don't you dare run away from me you fucking little-"

"Olivia?" his footsteps slow and he turns back to face her with a furrowed brow, "I'm not running from you? We've got a loose artifact in the filing room."

"Don’t you dare start making up excuses!" She's still storming towards him, face scrunched in anger.

He should probably be afraid. Olivia on rampage mode always meant that someone was at the very least going to be severely injured. Mostly because some idiot didn’t take her threats seriously even though it’s been proven time and time again that her threats are 100% serious. But he's got far greater fears than anything she could ever do to him.

"I'm serious Oliva. Imani found the meat cabinet there." He holds up his hands in surrender but it does nothing to placate her.

"AND YOU JUST LEFT HER THERE!"

"Yeah? It's just the meat cabinet. At most it'll make her sick for a couple of days and then she'll be fine." They’ve all had to deal with a rogue artifact at one point or another. It was the archives own official... hazing? No, it’s not so much a hazing as it was just something that happened too often and the newbies didn’t know better yet.

"I can't believe this, you just abandoned your co-worker to an Artifact!"

"Olivia you've literally done the same thing to all of us. Live by example maybe?" He’s also pretty sure she’s killed people so he doesn’t really understand where this is coming from.

She stares at him for a long moment before her body immediately relaxes as if she’d never experienced anger a single day in her life. "Eh, who am I kidding, I honestly don't give a shit if you've let your paranoia get the best of you. Anyway, did storage move it there? Or did it decide to do that itself?"

"I'm not paranoid," he bites back. And what does paranoia have to do with leaving Imani there? She can handle herself, she doesn't need help. "I haven't gotten to Artifact storage yet to find out."

"Right well you get that sorted, I'll go grab Imani out of there before we have to hire janitors." She pauses turning back with a glare, "By the way do you know what happened to the California statement you were helping Corwin with?" Her voice takes on it’s previous edge, eyes tightening in anger.

"No." He definitely does not know exactly what happened to it. It could have caught fire, or could be buried, or ripped to shreds. He doesn’t even know if it’s still anywhere near that makeshift campsite.

"I'm watching you, little man."

“Yep, bye Oliva.”

Click. 7

(The sound of the air conditioning kicking on fills the room, accompanied by the sound of a man cursing under his breath.)

"Ah there you are-”

(The man lets out a barely held back scream, and something flatters to the floor.)

“Oh calm down, your name is Rick, correct?"

"Uhm...Yes, Ms. Gwen."

"Fantastic, I've been looking for you. Unfortunately, there seems to have been an issue with your work contract and you're now being transferred to the Archives."

"What! But. NO, I quit, I'm not going back down there with those demons."

"Oh dear. You can't quit. And I think you'll fit in just fine if you think them monsters of your equal."

"I-"

"No, hush now. If you kill any more of my employees, I'll have to let Corwin deal with you exactly how they wanted to and believe me. That young person is incredibly creative when it comes to killing your kind."

"..."

"So. Pack your things, and I'll get your contract sorted. Don't try to run, because" (a harsh bark of laughter fills the room.)

"We'll find you."

(The man curses a bit more under his breath before heavy steps lead out of the room and fade away. The woman gives out an exhausted sigh.)

“I see you’ve started recording again. Preparing for an Archivist who’ll never exist? Or are you preparing for one that’s coming to visit?”

…

“I guess it doesn’t matter because we both know the answer to that don’t we.”

Click.