#he might surprise Undertaker and us all

[bapydemonprincess]

I do love that this is absolutely the very first glimpses of Sebastian's fears and PTSD of what COULD happen if he doesn't focus on protecting his contracted master over following the commands given to him. And it certainly leaves room for the possibilities of that going very very wrong.... just like it did for a certain loyal dog at the very beginning, huh?

[shirefantasies]

Omg of course you can do something with the idea if you want! I don't mind at all and the fact you liked the idea so much makes me so happy💕

And I'm also fine with being called girl in like a gender neutral way yk like the same way people say guys to refer to everyone sometimes, so no worries with that either!

-🌱

YEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW with permission then I present.......

A Failure of Words- Haldir x GN!Reader

Warnings: brief implication of past trauma, GOOFY ELF CONTENT 😌🤙🏻

“What are you going to do, then, shoot it down?”

And you had laughed at that. Was it really so funny? Complaining about a cloud and his brother suggests firing an arrow at it? Haldir scoffed. Surely your giggling was only to respond politely to their inane humor.

You had been excelling in your target practice of late, your skills with a bow increasing thanks to Haldir as much as his brothers, while Rúmil and Orophin were more to thank for your progress in Elvish. Necessity, of course, as he was the only one with any skills in Common, something you had initially bonded over. Yet somehow your simple bond with his brothers seemed...different. Had Haldir himself ever made you laugh so? Had he ever tried?

"Come, now," Orophin addressed you by name, "hit three more targets and we'll show you that old painting of our beloved Haldir!"

Grinning, you took up your weapon again, stretching some exertion from your muscles before you followed the others' motions toward the next dangling piece of chipped wood. Rolling his eyes, Haldir followed.

~

Rúmil struggled several times to pick up the roll he'd dropped, and upon final success at lifting it he thrashed about as if the thing was fighting back. Again you laughed, a hand falling to the table you sat at.

"My father used to do that too- it's as if you knew! I had no idea you two were so funny. I suppose Haldir is the serious one," you teased, gaze shifting to the eldest brother.

All this time he'd thought of them as the ridiculous ones more than himself an outlier. They had not been promoted, neither had bothered to learn the common tongue, both preferred an aimless life in the trees to the ambitions of the world, protection of what they held dear. Not that they couldn't fight, but... Was Haldir himself the outcast? Heart sinking, he gazed around the table, taking in how easily conversation flowed between you and his brothers. Like the breeze. Haldir was the one who had accepted you when you first came to Lothlórien as a refugee, fought for an outsider to stay despite his usual prejudices. The torture you'd had to endure at the hands of your captors made him sick to even imagine, and fortuitously Galadriel had agreed.

He was the only one who truly knew your secrets, and so he had desired to be the first to truly make you smile again; now, it seemed, his brothers had robbed him of that, forced him back into his station as "the serious one". Worst of all, perhaps not the one who would hold your heart.

Instant it was not, but the elf had found himself falling for you more and more during his time as your guide. Watching your wonder as you were led higher and higher into the sun-soaked trees, chuckling at your confusion when you pronounced and repeated new Elvish words. Seeing you bloom like a sunflower finding its roots once more. Always had he struggled with displays of affection, and perhaps that had cost him more than time. Or else this was another challenge for the captain, a new type of battle to undertake: correcting the many times his words failed him in the face of your fair spirit.

"You might be surprised," he finally spoke, interrupting his own whirlwind of thoughts again to meet your eyes, "you are aware, after all, of how much I taught them."

Rúmil and Orophin's heads both tilted, gazing at their eldest brother with new interest. Newly widening smiles. Knowing ones. An unfortunate side effect he would deal with later. For the time being, there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"Of course I am," you replied, taking a sip from your goblet of water, "Tracking, archery... And surely they would not know so much of your history were it not for you."

"And about the beasts of the land, of course." A breeze blew through his hair as he inhaled, next line at the ready. "After all, my name is Hal-deer."

Groaning, Orophin and Rúmil both simultaneously dropped their heads into their hands, shaking them with great disapproval. Lacking fluency though they may have been, they knew enough to recognize such a play on words, and it was clear they did not like it. Too bad- it wasn't for them.

You? Bursting into laughter, you clapped your hands lightly, head thrown back in amusement that had Haldir grinning widely for the first time in likely far too long.

Still shaking their heads, both younger brothers excused themselves, Orophin practically shoving Rúmil away from the table as they scrambled off to refill their drinkware.

"Never have I heard you make a joke, Haldir! Why now? And why one so-" Words failed you, too, inquiry wholly aborted by a fresh bout of laughter. Well did it convey the rest of your question, however.

Suppressing a wince, Haldir willed his smile to return. Wait, perhaps it looked forced. Was he overthinking this? His brothers would probably say yes.

His brothers. "My brothers...they make you happy in a way I seemingly never can. Perhaps I envied them." His voice emerged as little more than a whisper, eyelids fluttering half-shut as if they could conceal him from your vision.

Your brows furrowed at this. Head giving a faint tilt of confusion, you leaned forward, forced his grey eyes to meet your gaze. "I...I confess I do see your brothers differently," you told him, your own voice shy, "I always wished to think of them like my own brothers."

Heart lightening, Haldir replied, perhaps a bit too readily, "You can."

"No," you shook your head, paused, "well..."

It was your turn to drop your gaze, your posture straightening as you gave a supplying incline of the head, clearly hoping Haldir followed.

He did. Did he? Jaw dropping slightly, he reached out a tentative hand, saw that you did not flinch. Lifting up your gaze gently by your chin, Haldir spoke again.

"That you may wish as well, for though my words have failed me again and again it is the very same in my heart. It vexed me not being the one to make you smile, to win you over, when your name had been so inscribed upon my heart. But if you'll have the serious one, he shall have you."

Your answer came in the form of a kiss that had his heart soaring, one a bit too quick for Haldir's liking, but he quite literally had all the time in the world if he wished. He could wait. For once, his words had not failed him.

"Again and again, my Hal-dear," you replied with a devilish grin.

The golden-haired elf let his own face fall into his hand at that one. "I'll not be forgetting that one anytime soon, will I?"

As fate would have it, Rúmil and Orophin designated that moment to return, whooping as they set their goblets back down, clearly having spied upon him through some curtain or another as they often had in their youth.

"Not in the slightest," they answered for you, voices perfectly synchronized.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[bekolxeram]

Human remains as props — the Billy Boils of old horror movies

In this week's Halloween themed 9-1-1 episode, Buck rented a mummy replica from a Hollywood prop shop which turned out to be a real human body. This set off a series of misfortunate events for the firefighter, that might or might not be the result of a curse. Once again, the writers have surpassed themselves in terms of over-the-top silliness that has become the trademark of our beloved weewoo show. There's no way someone can accidentally get their hands on a real corpse... right?

Oh, you'll be surprised. You too may have seen a real cadaver or two on the silver screen.

The Economics of prop dead bodies

Using real human remains as movie props was such a common practice back in the days that prop masters working on the 1979 Vietnam war epic Apocalypse Now were totally unfazed when body broker (later revealed to be a grave robber) brought several dead bodies to the set. The plan to use those bodies as props for maximum authenticity was only scrapped after a producer ruled against it.

Source: The Independent

Interestingly, films that ended up actually featuring real bodies were the low-budget, fake looking ones. In the age before 3D printing, creating a set of realistic human skeleton was a very labor intensive process. That combining with the cost of the material used, the price of a plastic replica was in fact more expensive than a real skeleton.

A special effect make-up artist who worked on the 1982 Spielberg classic Poltergeist explained the film's decision to use actual human remains on a podcast:

Source: Snopes

Eerily, two young actresses who worked on the Poltergeist trilogy passed away unexpectedly shortly afterwards, leading to the urban legend of a curse on set.

The story of Elmer J. McCurdy

In late 1976, the production crew of the TV show The Six Million Dollar Man was filming scenes at the Pike, a then amusement zone in Long Beach, California. While shooting a scene at a thrill ride, a member of the prop department spotted a wax mannequin covered in fluorescent paint dangling from a noose. Worrying it would get in the way of the camera, they gave the dummy's arm a tug in an attempt to remove it, but instead of the whole thing coming off, only the arm broke off, exposing a human bone and muscle tissues.

A penny from 1924 and ticket stubs to the "Museum of Crime" were found in the body's mouth. Investigators contacted the museum owner's son, who identified the body as Elmer McCurdy, an outlaw killed in 1911 in the middle of a shootout with police following a botched train robbery in Oklahoma.

Unlike the fictional McCurdy in 8x05, the real McCurdy was a simple petty criminal looking for some extra cash to support his alcohol habit. Utilizing the skills he learned from the army, his robbery method of choice was explosives, but he was very terrible at it.

Source: KCRW

His body was subsequently taken to a funeral home, where he laid unclaimed for the rest of his stay. The undertaker embalmed the body, shaved his face, dressed him in a suit, but refused bury him until someone come forward to claim it and pay for the service. As time went by, the owner of the funeral home decided to dress the body as a gunslinging cowboy and allow visitors to see "the Bandit Who Wouldn't Give Up" for the price of a nickel, in order to fund his burial.

5 years later, two men claiming to be McCurdy's long lost brothers came forward to take custody of the body for a proper burial. End of the story, right? Well, of course they were travelling carnival owners lying to acquire the body for their shows. In 1922, the body was sold to yet another travelling exhibit called "Museum of Crime", which featured wax figures of other famous outlaws in history.

For the next 3 decades, McCurdy's body travelled all around the country as an attraction. He even had a brief film career. He was once used to promote the 1933 film Narcotic!, then he had a small cameo in the 1967 B-movie She Freak. In 1968, the Museum of Crime owner's son decided to sell his father's exhibits to the Hollywood Wax Museum. There, McCurdy's body started getting mixed up with other wax figure, and his origin story long forgotten.

Following over half a century of voyage, McCurdy eventually became fully mummified. The wax museum believed that the body was too gruesome and unlifelike to be showcased anymore, so he was finally sold to The Pike, an amusement zone in Long Beach, where he began his new life as a thrill ride decoration dummy.

After the shocking revelation by TV crew in 1976, McCurdy was transported back to Oklahoma, where he took his last breath 66 years ago, and finally laid to rest after a graveside service attended by 300 people. (Under 2 feet of concrete, to prevent grave robbing)

Source: Atlas Obscura

[whispering-ways]

Hello! I was wondering if you could make a Dom!Gyomei x Fem!Hashira!reader smut?

๑✧♡ heart to heart ♡✧๑

✧ summary: you are a recent hashira who's been assigned on a mission with gyomei

✧ pairing: gyomei himejima x f!reader

✧tags: cursing, fingering (f! receiving), nicknames like baby, sweetheart and daddy

✧ notes: i'm sorry for the delay in fics, but I'm working through all my tasks rn! i've been applying to grad school so i haven't had much time to write •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀ but now that's done with, I can start pumping out some more fics ♡ i might write a part two to this with more smut if people like it but idk

You just finished training and were about to gather your things to relax when you felt a large hand on your shoulder. “Hey there! I couldn't help but notice your impressive training session! As a newcomer, you were quite remarkable! But next time, I feel you should improve your stance and work on....”

“Ugh, there he goes again,” you think, listening to Gyomei list out some improvements you could make to be a better Hashira. You tuned his words out and tried your best not to get irritated, but you couldn’t help it. He was always correcting your technique and giving you advice when you didn’t even ask for it.

You understood that it was probably because you had just recently become a Hashira, but his comments were unneeded in your book. You couldn’t place all the blame on him though; it was Kagaya after all that told his right-hand Hashira to take care of you and ‘help you feel welcome’. Nevertheless, it still pissed you off. It’s not like you didn’t know you needed improvement. It was just him saying it that annoyed you.

You knew you probably should keep an open mind before judging Gyomei. It’s not like he was a bad person; he was a kind and nice person, but something about his holier-than-thou attitude just made all his ‘observations’ come across as patronizing to you. I mean, you never asked for his opinion to begin with. If you needed someone’s opinion, you would just ask Kagaya. You rolled your eyes, wondering when Gyomei would just leave you alone.

“Ah, I regret that I failed to mention it earlier, but Kagaya-sama has entrusted us with a mission. I was initially supposed to undertake it solo, but he believes having both of us together would be advantageous. It seems he has faith in your abilities, but he also believes having me by your side for your first mission could aid in your personal growth,” he said with a hint of a smile. That was new; he never smiled.

“Weird, but you know what, good for him. It wouldn’t hurt to smile once in a fucking while. Crying all the time has got to be making his eyes hurt. But there he goes being patronizing again. You wouldn’t be surprised if Gyomei was the one who really suggested it to Kagaya rather than the other way around.

Regardless, you nodded your head and asked some more details about the mission. He let you know that you both had to set out on your journey at 6 a.m. sharp tomorrow. So you gave him another nod of understanding, hoping that’d indicate you wanted to be left alone. Thankfully he got the message and shortly after walked away, leaving you to spend the rest of the day getting the relaxation you knew you deserved.

You woke up early the next day to pack a bit for the 2 day trip ahead of you. After gathering a few things and putting them into a bag, you headed out to meet Gyomei. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to find him. As you opened your door to see him standing right outside your door. “Jesus, you scared me. Couldn’t you at least knock or something?,” you asked, already annoyed with him.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to do that next time we go on a mission.”

It was almost cute that he thought you’d want to do another mission with him. You would rather eat a bag of nails for breakfast instead; the only reason you were going on this mission was because you didn’t want to be rude to Kagaya.

You close your door behind you and let out an exasperated sigh, readying yourself for the journey. “Okay, as long as you’re ready, let’s get going then.” Gyomei grabbed a small bag behind him, threw it above his shoulder and said, “That’s the spirit! Starting early is always the best!”

After about 30 minutes of walking, you’d both finally reached the grassy mountain you needed to trek to get to your final destination. You weren’t gonna lie, just the thought of trekking it made you tired, but you needed the mission experience, so you trudged forward.

It didn’t help that Gyomei was so far ahead; it was like he was rubbing in your face how much better he was than you. He stopped for a second to look around, which gave you just enough time to catch up with him. “Can’t you slow down? Your pace is like a giant’s, there’s no fucking way I can keep up,” you exclaim.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to slow down a bit! Please forgive me!” he said, tears rolling down his face.

“It’s fine, just...let’s get going,” you replied, continuing to walk along the path. You regretted asking him to slow down a couple of minutes later when he tried making small talk by asking millions of questions. If walking way off from you was irritating, then this was just pure hell.

You’re sure he can tell how pissed you are; your tight-lipped smile showed nothing but disdain for all his questions. But he just kept on talking anyway. A few minutes later and after trying to ignore him, you give up and decide to succumb to some small talk. You talked to him for a little bit about the mission, but that didn’t last too long as you noticed a slight drizzle start to cover the mountain.

The two of you started closer to the trees near you, hoping that their large spanning branches would keep you both somewhat dry. All chances of that happening left once the light drizzle turned into a heavy pour. There was no way that you both could continue your journey without getting hurt since the earth beneath you had become absolutely slick with water.

You two decided to wait out the rain and find shelter to keep you both dry for the time being. After what seemed like forever, you finally spot a broken-down house in your periphery and quickly get Gyomei’s attention, dying to get out of the rain as soon as possible.

“Look, there’s a house or something over there,” you say pointing at the building. “Let’s head there and hope the family is hospitable enough to let us stay there for a bit till the sky clears up.” You start walking in the direction of the house without even waiting for a reply from Gyomei, who starts wordlessly walking behind you.

As you get closer to the house, you notice how delipidated it really is. It seemed that no one had lived there in years. Almost all the windows were either cracked or completely broken; dust and cobwebs were littered in each corner of the house.

“Well it’s not a palace but at least it’ll keep us out of the rain,” you said, wiping off some dirt so you could finally sit down. You stretched your legs, sighing in relief, glad to finally catch a break.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the peaceful sound of the rain. The peace didn’t last too long as you heard some rustling noises behind you. You turn around to see Gyomei pull out a sleeping bag from his backpack along with a lantern.

“I think that the rain isn’t going to let up anytime soon, so I’m setting up for the night. I think the best decision is to sleep here tonight and start on our journey tomorrow,” he explains, sitting on his bed. “If you’d like, I can set up your bed as well.”

“It's fine, I didn’t even bring a bed anyway. If we have to sleep here tonight, I’ll just sleep on the floor,” you say, turning around. “Besides, it’ll work out the kinks in my back.”

“Nonsense, I insist you take the sleeping bag then!” Gyomei retorted.

“No I’m fine, you use your bed; you’re the one that brought it. I’ll be fine.”

“If you insist,” he says, continuing to set up. He pulled out some supplies from his bag to light the lantern and in a few moments, the whole house was filled with golden light, making the space as comfy as it could be.

But unfortunately, not even the warmth the lantern brought helped to make the house any less cold. The rain kept pouring and with it came a frigid breeze that swept through all corners of the house.

You tried to keep it discreet but there was no hiding the chattering of your teeth. Gyomei soon picked up on it too. At first, he did his best not to comment; after all, it did seem like you wanted your own space. But his worry for you took over and he yet again asked “Hey, are you sure you don’t want the bed?”

“Ugh..I told you I’m fine. It’s your bed, use your bed,” you replied back, annoyed he kept pressing the issue.

“Are you really fine? I can hear your shivers from here. I know it’s cold and the bed is quite spacious anyway so it wouldn’t be too much trouble at all,” Gyomei said scooting over to offer a spot on the sleeping bag. You couldn’t lie, you were pretty cold so you gave in and agreed to share the bag. You stood up and sat down next to him, leaving ample space between you two.

A few moments pass by with nothing but the sound of rain to fill in the awkward silence between you two. This was soon broken though when Gyomei said “So...what do you think about being a Hashira?

“Jesus fucking Christ, why’d he have to say something,” you thought, internally cringing at the fact that you now had to make small talk. “Uhh..well I guess it's um... good I guess. I don’t really know what to say,” you reply as you look towards the ground and lantern, anywhere besides Gyomei’s face.

“Ah, that’s wonderful! I’m glad you’re having a good start! I hope you like the other Hashira, they are like family to me,” he says, a small smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, cool. That’s always...uhh...real nice I guess,” you say, trying to remain as cold as possible. Your plan was to get him off your back and to leave you alone, but as time passed on, it didn’t seem like you were ever going to shake him off as he told you many stories of the other Hashira.

“I know we must be together for our line of work, but I truly consider all the Hashira my close friends. Or well, at least most of them I think...” he said, trailing off. You couldn’t help but be intrigued at the end of his sentence.

Now you were never one to gossip, but you were definitely a sucker for a bit of tea, and his phrasing definitely showed signs of a bit of tea. I mean Gyomei? Having beef with someone? Unheard of.

“Oh come on, you can’t just drop a statement like that without spilling the tea...” You press,, not prepared to give up. “No details, no good tea.”

You could see Gyomei squirming around a bit, debating whether he should explain or not. After a little bit, he sighs and looks at you, as if preparing himself.

“Okay...it’s just, you, we don’t have that strong of a relationship. I feel like you just don’t like me for some reason and however I look at it, I can’t seem to figure out what I did.”

“Fuck, I should’ve kept my mouth shut,” you thought. You didn’t want to get into this conversation now, not ever really. But you couldn’t just leave him hanging like that. You buried your face in your hands, letting out a long sigh. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I don’t have problems with you.”

“Then what is it because there must’ve been something I did. Everything we talk you just seem tired and annoyed,” Gyomei said.

“Look, I don't hate you, but sometimes it feels like I'm just an inferior version of you. Like, when you're so good at what you do, it's hard to feel like we're on the same level. And sometimes, these little comments you throw at me, even if you don't mean them in a bad way, make me feel like I'm not good enough for us to be equals.

I mean, you're like a prodigy with so much experience. It's hard not to feel like I'm always lagging behind you, you know?" You were doing your best to explain how you felt, but just hearing yourself made it obvious to you that your disdain was immature.

“For me, you’ve always been my equal. You’ve got a solid foundation of abilities and experience that match up with my own. However, things felt pushed too fast for me; I never got the chance to properly settle into being a Hashira. I’m doing my best to get a hang of this new position, but sometimes it’s hard not to feel like I’m falling short of everyone. So I guess in that sense, I really am not your equal,” Gyomei says, looking down to the floor.

There's a quiet gap between you two before you say, "...Yeah, I guess I judged you pretty quickly. I should've been more open to what you had to say, but I wanted to be a perfect Hashira, you know? Taking criticism is just a little hard for me, but I'll work on that in the future." You feel somewhat foolish after talking about how you felt; none of this coldness was really necessary to begin with - your dislike towards Gyomei felt almost useless.

"I apologize if my criticisms appeared more judgmental than I intended. However, in my opinion, you're already perfect like a diamond; you're a Hashira for a reason. Still, all diamonds require a bit of polishing, and that's all I was aiming for - to help you shine with some advice and techniques," he said cheerfully.

You have to admit, that comparison of his got you a little flustered. Yet, its sweetness gave you a lot of comfort. "Let's put this aside and be friends, alright? Let's start all over, and I'm sorry for not giving you a chance earlier," you say with a smile, shocked that you're actually having a conversation with Gyomei like this.

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s nice to see such a beautiful smile on you for the first time.” You look up at him, eyes wider than saucers. “Not that you aren’t pretty all the time...I mean..but you know that.” Gyomei said, red from head to toe.

You chuckle at Gyomei's flustered state, finding it endearing to see the big strong man reduced to a blushing mess. He's truly a sight to behold. "If I said you were a sight for sore eyes, I'd be selling you short," you comment in turn.

Out of nowhere, a gust of cold air hits your body, sending tingles down your spine. "Would you...uhh...like to come a little closer?" Gyomei proposes. "I noticed you shiver and I run pretty warm. I wouldn't mind a platonic cuddle to stay warm, if you're alright with that."

You never thought making up with him would mean that you’d be flirting with him, but you couldn’t complain. I mean he was hot and you wouldn’t mind messing around with him a little bit.

So you scooch a bit closer to him, your arms barely grazing his. He was right, he definitely was warm; you could feel the heat radiating off of him. But that still wasn’t enough to warm you up.

You're somewhat confused when you hear Gyomei laugh. He adjusts his position and spreads his legs apart, as if offering you a spot to sit. "Come, sit a little closer, there's no way you're feeling warm there," he says, patting the area between his legs.

Taken by surprise by his forwardness, you nonetheless place yourself between him, your legs resting against his. It's a little awkward between you, but you aren't one to back down from a challenge, and he IS rather warm.

You’d never really noticed the size difference between you two, but you definitely did now. His muscled thighs surrounds you, practically pressing your own togtether. He stretches back behind you to give you some space. You sit for a little bit and you both kind of sink into the feeling of being so close to him.

Gyomei looks down to you and asks, "Can I help keep you a little warmer?" Hesitant, you nod in agreement - but deep down, you can feel your cheeks get hot just by looking at him. This sudden rush feels like it's moving far too fast for anything meaningful to come out of it, but something about it just feels right.

He suddenly lifts you up and sits down in a cross-legged position, placing you right into his lap. The ease with which he picks you up surprises you, but you're not thinking about warmth at all now.

“How are you feeling now? Warmer?” Gyomei says.

"Yes, this...it feels pretty nice," you answer, leaning your back against his chest. At first, the touch of his hand on your thigh is nice - but once you've settled, it becomes almost...teasing. The warmth is nice, yeah, but enough teasing already, so you decide to make your own move.

You get up from his lap, leaving Gyomei worried he pushed too far. But that feeling dissipated once you sat back on his lap, now facing him with your legs wrapped around him. You looked up at him through your eyelashes to see him absolutely flustered. He puts his hands on your back bringing you closer. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with me Gyomei.”

He pulls back, a little shocked, but it doesn’t take him long to reply “Hmm... perhaps I am.”

“Oh yeah?”

The sexual tension is practically tangible, but you neither speak nor move as you gaze at his lips. Only your eyes speak; he understands and moves in for a passionate kiss.

The unexpected roughness is a surprise, but a welcome one, as you melt into his embrace and grasp for a hold on his neck, drawing him closer to you, your body flush against his. One hand reaches for his chest, using his necklace to pull him as close as he can be - his hands on your waist, just barely touching your hips.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue running along his own bottom lip, requesting entrance into your mouth. Once you opened your mouth, his tongue enters once more, and the sensation sent a wave of chills down your spine.

You slip your arms around his neck to pull him in closer, your body pressed against his as your skin ignites with a flame of excitement. He pulls you back slightly, exposing your neck to him, before diving in once more to to suck on your neck. You whine out under his touch, squirming with delight beneath him.

He bites down hard, leaving a hickey in his wake. He takes a moment to proudly admire it, only to pull you into his arms, leaving you mildly confused. He suddenly lifted you and placed you against the wall, his arms slamming at either side of you as he began to kiss you again.

Gyomei's hand slides down your side, coming to rest on the back of your knee. He uses his other hand to grab you firmly by your back and pull you in closer. You instinctively wrap your leg around his back, holding on tight now.

His hand departs from its prior position, as he casually caresses your inner thigh, his fingers brushing against your slit. He was taken aback to find that there were panties instead of the anticipated pair of shorts, but hey he wasn’t complaining. His fingers began to play with the edges of your panties, twirling them between his digits.

He eventually pauses and asks, "Are you okay if I go further?" as he begins to tease your slit with his fingers.

You nod wordlessly and he continues to kiss you. Your body trembles in anticipation as Gyomei's tender lips lightly graze yours. He pulls you close, and with a swift gesture, he removes your panties and tosses them to the side. The touch of his fingers sends electric shocks throughout your body.

Your body quivers with anticipation, your heart beating erratically as his lips trail down toward yours. He removes your panties with a swift motion, discarding them carelessly to the side. His skilled fingers lightly tease your clit, eliciting a muffled moan.

His middle finger circles your entrance, before plunging in with no warning. His finger was bigger and thicker than anything you’d ever felt before, so when he added another finger, it nearly overwhelmed you with pleasure.

You feel like your knees are about to give out, but your body can't help but squirm. Gyomei looks at you with a passionate glare. In a frustrated tone, he asks, "Sweetheart, you're gonna have to stop squirming around like that, how am I gonna make you feel good if you do?"

“I’ll do my best...not to~,” you moan out as he continues to relentlessy pound his fingers into your pussy.

“If you want more pleasure, you gotta call me daddy princess.”

"I...I promise not to squirm then daddy," you whine as you try to maintain a firm grip on your promise. However, despite your desperate efforts, you end up squirming more as you near climax.

Gyomei suddenly stops and states, "You're still squirming baby. You can't disobey your promise to daddy. But don't you worry, I have the perfect solution for this."

Gyomei's arm effortlessly slides towards the back of your knees and he slings you over his shoulder, leaving you in a state of shock. You start smacking his back, in hopes that he’d put you down.

Yet, instead of providing an explanation, Gyomei simply laughs. "I love how feisty you are," he comments, smacking your ass and leaving a glowing red handprint in its wake.

"Just you wait, baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good," he states, a playful gleam in his eyes. You stare up at him with anticipation, excited for what he was going to do next. Little did you know what the night had in store for you.

[zetsubo-bani]

Rachel and Vincent in an arranged marriage?

A little theory I came up with

I know at first you must be wondering why I think that despite the manga initially showing them as a normal couple. But I have my doubts on whether they married truly for love only. Here's why:

What started my train of thought was this panel here:

Whoever possesses the title "earl of phantomhive" is also the queens guard dog, it has always been like that. So the fact that francis made sure lizzy wouldn't neglect her training makes perfect sense, because the wife of the guard dog should be able to protect him if necessary. But then we have rachel who seems to be a completely normal rich girl with not much known about her. Of course you could say that rachel happend to catch vincents attention which is why he ended up marrying her.

But then we have this:

When it comes to arranged marriages, it is almost always a deal made between parents of the people in question (as seen with lizzy and ciel) or between a parent and the supposed suiter

Now it could be that their parent introduced them in hopes that one of them catches vincents interest which is what happened but then again we have the fact that vincent didn't seem to show interest in rachel. On screen atleast.

He complimented madam red a bit but his marriage to rachel seemed completely unexpected, even to madam red

You would think that madam red shouldn't be that surprised by that announcement if they had been dating before (because if they married out of love then they definitely would have dated before getting into a marriage).

But she didn't suspect anything and even made herself all pretty in hopes of getting more of vincents attention. She definitely wouldn't have done so if she knew he was already taken because after the marriage she never did anymore romantic moves on vincent and instead just observed them bitterly from the sidelines

People in the victorian age were very private when it came to showing affection, I am aware of that. However rachel and madam red used to be very close and they still sort of were even after the marriage. I am pretty certain rachel would have told her if she started dating someone.

However if it had been arranged it could explain why she was so surprised. It is likely that it's the reason why vincent came to visit them in the first place. He likely knew the father because of work relations and got offered to get a potential wife.

The second chapter of the manga literally said that marriage arrangements were pretty common in that time and that rich people only marry other rich people.

Considering how little we know of rachel, it could be possible that she had some qualities that would fit into the role of the wife of phantomhive which is why she got to marry him, however that is just speculation

We also have this suspicious panel:

It even struck me as odd when I first read it because why would he say that? Vincent is apparently happily married with a beautiful and noble wife and has twin sons. So the fact that he questioned him about the love part seemed off to me.

But if their marriage was arranged it might make sense as to why he would question vincents ability to "love" because maybe there never was any love involved in his family life with his marriage arranged and his kids being born out of a need for an heir.

It's very speculative but it's not like it wasn't common at that age.

And considering how kuro has the common theme of "not what it appears to be", it would fit in quite well.

After all, undertaker wasn't just a goofy ally of o!ciel, the servants weren't just some idiots who only fail as a servant, lizzy wasn't a damsel in distress, o!ciel isn't ciel, madam red wasn't trying to help o!ciel, ... and maybe rachel and vincent weren't the loving couple they were portrayed to be.

In any case, it's a little theory I had while thinking. Please share your thoughts with me.

[sasster]

Civil Matters

I guess that’s that then, huh? [doc] —

Very few trolls can attest to having seen The Restorer outside of the grounds that his safe haven of a city occupies in the many hundreds of sweeps since the passing of his predecessor. If asked after it, he might say there is simply no reason to exert any power over the remainder of his region; they have always more or less followed the norms of the area immediate to the church and its surroundings. Even fewer trolls have seen him move with any more passion than his typically relaxed gait, if his very recent worrying after his son went uncounted.

All of this nonsense feels to him as though it somehow started seconds ago and has been going on for many many sweeps at the same time. Whenever it started, he would like to see it end now, a thought that might have lent itself to why he moves with such swiftness behind enemy lines.

When he enters the Church of the Divine Dreamer, the yellow blooded priest falls short mid-sentence. His wings twitch, and Ailzea supposes that he is in search of the right thing to say in the face of their territory’s overseeing purple blood deciding on a surprise visit. Behind the frozen priest, the Goddess he preaches in the name of tilts her head at the sight of the newcomer.

Then she smiles.

The gathered congregants' heads turn to catch sight of the disruption.

“Father Restorer! Will you be joining us for service this evening?” She asks brightly as her brother bristles.

Ailzea nods his head. “Please forgive my tardiness. It is quite a bit out of the way from my own home.” He says and then takes a seat at the back.

Promptly, the attention of the congregation returns to the priest at the pulpit, whose visible eye darts wildly between them and someone unseen at the other end of it.

The godling closes her eyes and settles back in, while her brother clears his throat, taking a moment to recalibrate his thinking and relocate his center. He begins to move again, there is something familiar about the way he carries himself that fills the Restorer’s mind with a weight that he is uncomfortable with carrying.

Cylion suddenly smiles.

“Yes, thank you for joining us, Father Roatus! It is truly an honor to have you.” Clearly not one to let an opportunity slip through his claws, the yellow blood places those same hands down onto the lectern with gusto, and sweeps his gaze over the crowd in a manner that suggests hunger. He practically laps up their attention. “In times of uncertainty, even other religious leaders make the time to visit our Dreamer.” A quiet murmuring starts to spread among the congregation, from what Ailzea listens in on there is a range of reaction in the small gathering that ranges from doubt to astonishment. To him it seems that Cylion really grew into the perfect little priest that Ailzea’s own predecessor looked for within him. At least someone came to learn from the brute. A shame about everyone catching strays as a result of that learning.

“The dream world that you know of is a bridge between the divine and mortal worlds,” he continues, explaining what must be an introduction to the religion for new comers. There is a nervous edge to his movement as he gestures to the furnishings and decorations that resemble or allude to Nymira within the chamber. “And our Dreamer is a gift from the Divine, sent here to show us and teach in its name the ways we can become closer to it…”

Behind him the Goddess sits motionless, save for the swaying of her tail fanned out behind her. What a massive undertaking for such a young troll. The pair of them must be under tremendous stress.  Trollkind was never meant for the burdens of godhood, but damn do they keep trying.

Cylion continues to ramble on in his indoctrination and Ailzea finds himself drawn to the artwork of the young Goddess, allowing the light blues and dreamlike qualities of the pieces pull him away from the sermon. It is a wonder she doesn’t feel completely smothered with all of this attention, that the only pressure she claims to feel presently is the way her brother has started to behave.

He will not get a better understanding of the situation until the three of them sit down for a real conversation. Four if Favion chooses civility. Ailzea is unsure that it’s something he is capable of these days, however. A conversation to have with Weaver when this has all ended.

There is a sudden, almost flighty, tap on his shoulder that serves as a welcome interruption from the thought of his old friend’s descent into madness, and he turns to give his full attention to that disruption. He trades the view of beautiful artwork, depicting scenes of the whimsical and fantastical, for an uneasy looking troll with a bowl cut. Arkiro would find that juxtaposition hilarious.

“Can you come with me?” The disruption mumbles under the priest's lecture, and Ailzea can’t tell if those pupil-less eyes are on him or the speaker at the far front.

He casts a look to the Dreamer before he responds. Nymira gives him an encouraging smile. Somehow, despite the circumstances, she still believes her brothers operate on goodwill. He nods and stands to follow the troll that stands in front of him.

They walk until they reach a part of the compound that seems a bit more residential, their slice of land surely impressive and no doubt a result of Favion’s masterful use of manipulation tactics when he’s in his best mind. 

“Cylion will speak to you in here,” the troll with the bowl cut says as he leads him into a dining area flanked by two closed bedroom doors. It is all he’s said the entire trip. “In the name of privacy.” He explains.

“I understand. Thank you.”

Then his escort moves to exit the way they entered, but Ailzea speaks again before he can get very far. “Will the elder Lefera be joining us as well? 

He freezes in the doorway and seems to wince or shudder at the thought.

“Yeah, I’ll,” a pause. “I’ll check on that for you.”

A curious response, but not one the Restorer can fault him for.

Favion is not a troll to be invoked lightly.

Some time passes before the young priest finds his way to the room that Ailzea waits for him in. In that time, Ailzea has found himself regretting not bringing something with which to keep his hands and mind busy. Though he dares not craft under that savage of a man’s roof. The ghost of a horrible memory looms somewhere in the back of his mind. He sighs it away.

Cylion enters the room briskly, already having tugged the collar out from his shirt, the sunflower from his eye, holding each in his hand as he pulls the rest of his ceremonial garb up over his head to reveal a tanktop underneath. The ceremonial clothes seems to Ailzea to hide much of the bulk of the yellow blood’s wings, but his under shirt allows him the freedom to stretch them out. Which he does.

He discards his accessories on a counter on his way to where the Restorer sits. Finally, he gives him his full attention.

The eye contact fills Ailzea’s head with an uncomfortably pregnant fog.

“Father will not be joining us.” He asserts.

It must be that he is over the original shock of the Restorer’s presence enough for the coolness of his facade to have taken root again. Something tells him that it was in the name of that facade that he was sent away in the middle of the sermon.

“I am afraid my visit largely concerns your father and his recent behavior, regarding my children and otherwise. I would like him to be in attendance.”

Cylion’s nose nearly scrunches, almost twisting his face up at the mention of children, but he stops himself partway through. Ailzea imagines the protest of Marrie as a child dying on the tongue he sucks against his teeth.

Cool neutrality returns to his face. “We are deeply sorry for that–”

“Favion will join us. Nymira as well.” There is a level of force alien to even Ailzea that the words leave his mouth with. “Please.” He amends.

The younger priest’s mouth clamps shut with an audible clacking of his teeth, clearly unused to his authority being challenged. “Father is unwell. And Nymira must rest.”

“Cylion. I am no longer asking.”

Something familiar that isn’t forcibly repressed in the Restorer’s mind bubbles behind Cylion’s eye and just below the surface of his features. Ailzea’d seen that look long ago, hundreds of times, just before Favion would do something reprehensible.  The expression passes over the younger Lefera like a ghost.

At least he has some level of self control.

“Of course.” He grits, takes a moment to step away to give the instruction to Bowl Cut at the door, and returns to sit near the Grand High Blood finally tossing his weight around. “It would be easier with me.”

“I am not looking for easy. I am looking for finished.”

Cylion shakes his head and averts his gaze to his own perfectly manicured nails, tongue sucking against his teeth again. “You’re as stubborn as Archie.”

–

Nymira arrives first, also changed into clothing designed more in the name of comfort than presentation. She practically floats ahead of Bowl Cut as they enter.

The two yellow bloods exchange an indecipherable look as the godling crosses all the way to the side of the table the Restorer sits at.

“I’m so happy you made it, Father Restorer!” Her enthusiasm as palpable as one brother's dread and the other’s anger. “Did you enjoy the service?”

“I did, thank you for having me.” He looks at the brothers for a brief moment and then returns his attention to her. “I have been thinking about our conversation, my child. How does some time away from home sound to you?”

The silence that wraps itself around the room as the question leaves his mouth is as thick and impenetrable as the block that prevents Ailzea from properly focusing on the winged yellow blood.

“She can’t just–”

“I will not force you,” Ailzea continues once Cylion’s bewildered, close to the tipping point, voice pierces through the blanket of silence. “However, there is a space for you within my walls should you choose to take me up on that offer.”

Nymira stares back at him with eyes wide and shaking, bright shimmering pools of black that could suck him in with her desire if he wasn’t careful. She chews on the idea, her gaze shifting from the elder priest to the younger, then back again.

“Nymira-” Cylion’s protest is quelled as quickly as it starts by a wave of Ailzea’s hand.

The Goddess fidgets.

“Father Restorer,” her voice catches and he waits for her to find her balance. She chances a glance at her brother, he stares back as though he means to bend her to his will with his mind. She shrinks. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I trust that your brothers will handle business while you are away.”

Now it is Ailzea’s turn to put the full brunt of his attention on Cylion, the younger priest does not flinch in the face of it, a stormy look taking hold of his own features. Both sets of wings flare and fold in on themselves in time with the breathing he fights hard to regulate.

Cylion exhales hard through his nose.

“Father Roatus,” he begins, silver tongue searching for a line to pull. “There are people here that rely on her here. She can’t be taken from her people.”

“That is a decision she will make when she has had her rest, should she choose to take my offer.”

Cylion opens his mouth to respond, but he pauses. His attention is somewhere else, brought toward the entrance to the room, by the sound of a low thud that spills into it. All eyes fall on Favion as he crouches into the doorway.

Immediately the elder Lefera’s attention is grabbed by the sight of Ailzea.

He breaks into an uneven grin.

“Favion,” Ailzea acknowledges him with a nod. “We were just discussing Nymira’s break from her duties.”

The hulk of a yellow blood stops just beyond the threshold and grips the doorframe, he works his jaw for a moment. Then he speaks.

“Interesting proposal,” he gravels, the words struggling through a rock tumbler before falling out of his mouth. “My sprout stays here.”

“It is not a request.” Ailzea asserts as he stands up.

A rattle of a growl shakes loose in the beast's chest, Cylion and his brother look between each other, Nymira takes a step behind the Restorer.

“Favion, I only asked you here so that your children are not made to explain to you what has occurred.” The Restorer turns his attention to the godling and nods again in her direction. “The decision is hers.”

There is a sharp snap, and a crack begins to form along the door frame from beneath Favion’s massive claw, then another silence descends on the group. The silence vies for dominance over the new wave of tense atmosphere that smothers them. Nymira says nothing, shrinking from her father and closer to the purple priest when he lets loose another growl and steps further into the room. This time the growl is punctuated by the sound of his teeth grinding together.

Cylion’s anger looks right at home on his father’s face.

Beyond the ferocity, Ailzea finds something else mixed into it. Something that he cannot place.

Not on Favion’s face, anyway, the way his lips always twisted into a fierce snarl ready to rip someone apart. Beyond that, there was something soft. A tenderness.

Love. He thinks. For his daughter.

And here she was hiding away from him.

“Nymira?” Ailzea asks softly, tearing his attention away from the hulk. “What do you say?”

“I would like to go with you.” She responds in a voice meant for a mouse, unable to rip her own eyes off of her father’s threat display. “Just… For a little while.”

“Sprout,” Favion advances, enough that Ailzea can make out the age which aids the deterioration that mars the yellow giant’s face. The ghost of a fearsome sneer finds itself locked behind the gentle expression he wears like a mask to look at his daughter with. “Why?”

There is a lull, the Restorer looks from Favion to his descendant behind him. The winged troll looks furious, staring coldly at his sister, once against doing his best to control her with that steely gaze.

Ailzea turns slightly to obscure her from his view.

Nymira breathes, he feels her grab hold of his robes from behind.

“Father,” her voice wavers. “You hurt my friends and everyone was ready to lie to me about it! Cylion has been cruel and he…” She hesitates, Ailzea imagines that she might’ve brought up Little Friend but thought better of it in present company. He is grateful for this. “He let a bad man take me away! To teach me some sort of lesson. He made sure I would forget things… That his words meant more to me than my own thoughts. That’s no way to treat someone you care about!” The words rush out of her quickly, a poorly made dam coming down in the face of her flood of emotion.

Favion stands statue still, teeth grinding all the while he processes the information. It would take a moment for him to catch it all even on his best day. Behind him, Cylion cannot help the growl that thunders from his chest. Bowl Cut fidgets with the edges of his shirt.

“I just need somewhere to breathe. Please, Father.”

Ailzea speaks before the broken yellow blood finds use of his mouth again. “Go, Nymira. Gather your things.”

“Okay. Thank you Father. Thank you, too, Father Restorer.” She says breathlessly and takes the long way around to the room’s exit so she does not risk crossing the path of her explosive brother and frozen father.  Her failed prophets.

When she is safely out of the room, all compassion leaves Favion’s face. His expression twists into one of pure animosity, then his lips part into a snarl that brings Ailzea back to all of those daymares where his children are mutilated right before his eyes.

One of the brothers makes an involuntary sound.

The yellow blood advances on him, claw angled to grab him up by the horn.

Ailzea sighs.

“Favion. I have had enough of this!” Once again, the force that Ailzea manages is alien even to himself. “If you cannot behave civilly, return to your chambers!” This time his own voice rings loud in his ears, leaving behind the echoes of all the times in his youth that he’d been on the receiving end of one of his predecessor's tyrades.

He sounds just like Matere Roatus. That man’s voice on Ailzea’s tongue leaves a metallic taste behind. How many times was that line used on him, followed by the destruction of something dear to his heart?

Ailzea would never stoop so low.

When he refocuses on the scene in front of him, the beast of a troll has already fallen still. He stands in a neutral position, perhaps awaiting an order. At the same time, the pair of brothers have found themselves on the other side of the kitchen, not keen on a bath of blood if it came down to it.

“Favion, you will let her do as she wishes.”

Favion grunts, and though he appears to comply, contempt poisons his features and taints the air between them.

Cylion opens his mouth to protest, anger paints him in a grim light, but Ailzea shoots it down with a glower of his own.

“The game is done. Nymira has made her decision.”

[iwriteasfotini]

Regulus ‘I am out of everyone’s league’ Black

In which Evan tries to tell Regulus everyone has a crush on him and Regulus doesn’t care or believe him (hmmm... wonder why that might be?). Subtextual Rosekiller in that Regulus is trying to help Evan and Barty become a thing.

Regulus POV, Regulus is in year three, as is Barty. Evan is in year five. 

…

As he rode the train back to Hogwarts, he and Evan talked about the speech they had heard the Dark Lord give. They had a compartment to themselves, the train being significantly emptier than it was at the beginning and end of the year. Then Regulus came clean with Evan regarding everything he was undertaking in the month of January. 

“I don’t want you to think I am being flakey or half-arsing things, but -”

Evan held up his hand, “I trust you. As long as you turn up for the Ravenclaw match and play your arse off, we are good.”

“And if you want me to hang out with you and Barty, it’s going to have to wait.”

Evan nodded, “I understand. Let me see what I feel comfortable with on my own. Maybe I won’t need you.” Evan gave him a playful nudge. 

“Rosier, you are a catch, own it. You really don’t need a wingman.”

Laughing heartily now, Evan said, “if Regulus ‘I am out of everyone’s league’ Black thinks I am a catch, it has to be a good sign.”

Regulus scoffed, “what! I do not think I am out of everyone else’s league. I just haven’t found anyone I feel that way about yet.”

“Hence, you are way, way out of our league mate.”

“Ok, but in fairness, this ‘league’ has three people in it I am aware of, one of them being myself.”

“You can deny it until your last breath Regulus, you are fucking fit. Your brother owns it. You should too.”

“My demeanor is more subtle.”

“Obviously, but you want some sway in the house, turn up the sex appeal. Even the straight kids will be drooling over you. I bet they secretly already are.”

Regulus’ eyebrows shot up into his long fringe. 

“Don’t look so surprised, you’ve had me and Barty both crushing on you, and we made out with each other in the meantime.”

“What! Barty doesn’t, he hasn’t had a crush on me. He hated me.”

“I thought we went over this already,” sighed Evan. “And don’t worry, neither of us are going to make a move again, at least I won’t. And Barty knows you are untouchable, pureblood royalty. Just another reason he never queued you in on his mess of feelings in the past.”

“No wonder he’s so surly all the time.” 

“That and about fifty other reasons. I’m glad you encouraged me to get to know him. We don’t really understand each other until we see things from another’s point of view. But back to you, Regulus, I’m not kidding. Bring the goods and you will have everyone eating out of your hand.”

“Evan, I’m not… That’s not…”

“Hmmmm, I wasn’t under the impression you had a confidence problem.”

“I don’t! I mean,” Regulus ran his hands over his face in exasperation. “Merlin Evan, I’m not great at this stuff.”

“Well, I won’t pretend to be an expert, but if you ever want some advice, my door is always open.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and turned towards the window where the snowy countryside was speeding past. 

…

This excerpt was taken from The Heir and The Spare, which is part of the Our Love is Written in the Stars series which will FINALLY begin posting on Oct 31!

[urdgealesisbaby]

heyy, glad to see you updating your posts! It's hard to find any ONS's fanfic, so it's a pleasure to find your account!

Also, can I request for a headcanon about relationship with Urd and Undertaker? Thank you~

Hello!I'm happy that I can help with this fandom's activeness!

Also i love the fact that you used two of my blog's main characters hehe~

General relationship headcanons with Urd Geales and Undertaker

Urd Geales

-a very protective person,almost too protective

-he knows you can do things on your own,but if you wanna do something risky he's always there to protect you

-a person who cares deeply about you

-also he is very honest,he would never lie to you

-you are the one he feel in love with,how could he lie to his lover?

-really interested in your hobbies or anything that you like,really

-he is the type to ask you if everything is alright,if you need a break,or anything

-he senses every emotion that you have

-even if you say that you are alright,he just knows if you lie or not

Undertaker

-an unserious-serious type

-really,this man is a combination of like a tousand things

-you either love him or hate him,there's no in between

-he really enjoys your company though,like genuinely

-I like to think that he is vey honest but with limits

-like he wouldn't ever lie to you,but if he has some sketchy plans,he might not tell you

-he likes affection,like a lot

-surprise hugs are a thing for him

-give him kisses,hugs,affection in general and he's all yours

-you may need to sleep in a coffin with him(I'm sorry)

-he just finds it really comfy and sweet(It's really not)

Thank you for your request and make sure to request again if you have some new ideas!

[thesophistiicate]

I really enjoy reading your posts and especially the amazing advice you give people in your asks.

I am engaged with a wonderful man, who takes great care of me, romantically and financially. I have no complaints about our relationship, Ive been treated like a queen every step of the way. The problem is Ive let myself go in all areas during the time weve been together. Ive gained a crazy amount of weight, stopped taking care of myself, Ive lost a lot of my huge vocabulary that I used to be so proud of, my sharp wit. In general it seems Ive lost my manners, my class and myself. I come from a family where manners, wits and talents where my parents main focus, so I used to be very polished and very well read. I got hit with severe depression during covid, and it seems that let to my lack of disciplin and self respect.

I truly wanna change. He deserves a woman who is genuinely levelling up with him, who takes care of herself. Like the one I was when he met me.I deserve to be proud of myself, and I deserve to treat myself with respect and care.

I just feel so ambivalent when it comes to changing myself so much around him. Maybe because Im already insecure about the whole thing, find it embarrassing if he notice me struggling with my self-esteem. Ive always been the type who would learn new skills or change my looks in secret, so that no one would interrupt me, make fun of me or get me away from my progress.

How would you advice me to handle the conversation if he asks me why Im changing so much? How do I work around my embarrassment of being caught in the process of learning? Any advice on how to keep my journey a secret/less obvious?

We live together, so he would for sure notice me changing habits, try new looks etc. He would probably be supportive, but also defaulting to telling me that he loves me, and that I am perfect as I am rn etc.

i actually relate to a lot of this! your relationship sounds a lot like mine, and like many people i feel i really lost myself in Covid but also during my pregnancy (it was difficult) and then navigating discovering myself again after 5 years of feeling a bit lost… 🤍

i suppose what springs to mind for me reading your story is that this is a wonderful opportunity to discover what it’s like to be seen and supported and loved through effort and change. i’m really private too and i had to learn to become comfortable with my partner “knowing” what i’m doing.

i think it can stem from perfectionism as well, this pressure women in particular feel, to always be the polished end result but to hide away the process, even feel ashamed of it, embarrassed by it. (and extra embarrassed because to start again would be to admit we failed in the past.) we have to try so hard yet aren’t supposed to let anyone else see… it’s supposed to seem effortless. and we don’t want anyone to know in case our result is imperfect, or we are seen struggling, or whatever. it is a part of why women’s work is minimised and mocked and judged overall. so i think it’s important to push past that, to let it be seen and to take pride in it. you are undertaking a powerful, important, life changing journey and there is so much power in allowing that to be seen by somebody who you love and trust.

I’ll tell you about my partner, not to brag but to give a sense of what it may be like to push past your fear… he of course always says he loves me as i am, no matter what and no matter what might change. he loved me when we met and i was heavier and very unfit and chronically stressed out from work. i was his dream girl even then. but i was actually kind of… surprised? yet not? that in the past few years of me turning things around, he’s actually been really encouraging and interested. instead of a “why bother, i like you as you are” attitude (which would actually be insulting, as though i live for his approval lol), he talks about how inspiring (and sexy!) he finds my effort, how much he admires my self discipline, how great my results are, that i carry myself noticeably differently and seem so much happier. he buys me flowers when i hit milestones. celebrates with me when i achieve a new goal. none of it feels invasive or over the top, just gently supportive.

i did sort of start on my own without really discussing it, but he noticed. and that led to the opportunity for me to talk more openly about how i’d been feeling, about how this is a fresh start. i wonder too if you are worried to be noticed because you’re worried about whether you can stick to it? and it might bring up feelings of shame to be seen trying and “failing”? in which case lots of compassion, flexibility, and gentle self care will help. no need for strict new routines and overhauling every habit. just start small with little changes, let it build with time. it took me almost a year of false starts before i managed to stick to my exercise routine!

overall by being open and allowing him to support me, i’ve found it so easy to stick to my goals and our relationship also feels stronger than ever, too. he already loves me so the idea that everything he loves about me is only getting better is exciting to him i think. i think you are at the beginning of a wonderful new chapter and it will take some courage, but everything worth doing does 🤍

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Why do you think the epilogue of "Jane Eyre" gives so little attention to Jane's becoming a mother? Just once sentence that doesn't even touch on Jane's feelings about it, only that Rochester regained enough of his sight to be able to see his firstborn son. Why should such an enormous, life-changing aspect of her married years be so deemphasized?

Hi!

If you ask me, I think the very simple answer is that Charlotte Brontë didn't like children. Even Adele herself in the novel is very little more than a plot device to have Jane at Thornfield (this is one of the reasons why the 1996 heavy focus on childhood and the consequences of unhappy childhoods, ending with Jane and Rochester adopting Adele and raising her as their own is both a strong departure from the text but also an interesting commentary on it).

I feel like Elizabeth Gaskell explains it in a way that makes sense in her The Life of Charlotte Brontë:

"...teaching seemed to her at this time, as it does to most women at all times, the only way of earning an independent livelihood. But neither she nor her sisters were naturally fond of children. The hieroglyphics of childhood were an unknown language to them, for they had never been much with those younger than themselves. I am inclined to think, too, that they had not the happy knack of imparting information, which seems to be a separate gift from the faculty of acquiring it; a kind of sympathetic tact, which instinctively perceives the difficulties that impede comprehension in a child’s mind, and that yet are too vague and unformed for it, with its half-developed powers of expression, to explain by words. Consequently, teaching very young children was anything but a “delightful task” to the three Brontë sisters. With older girls, verging on womanhood, they might have done better, especially if these had any desire for improvement. But the education which the village clergyman’s daughters had received, did not as yet qualify them to undertake the charge of advanced pupils."

"No doubt, all who enter upon the career of a governess have to relinquish much; no doubt, it must ever be a life of sacrifice; but to Charlotte Brontë it was a perpetual attempt to force all her faculties into a direction for which the whole of her previous life had unfitted them. Moreover, the little Brontës had been brought up motherless; and from knowing nothing of the gaiety and the sportiveness of childhood—from never having experienced caresses or fond attentions themselves—they were ignorant of the very nature of infancy, or how to call out its engaging qualities. Children were to them the troublesome necessities of humanity; they had never been drawn into contact with them in any other way. Years afterwards, when Miss Brontë came to stay with us, she watched our little girls perpetually; and I could not persuade her that they were only average specimens of well brought up children. She was surprised and touched by any sign of thoughtfulness for others, of kindness to animals, or of unselfishness on their part: and constantly maintained that she was in the right, and I in the wrong, when we differed on the point of their unusual excellence."

From a letter from Charlotte to Gaskell:

"Whenever I see Florence and Julia [two of Gaskell's daughters] again, I shall feel like a fond but bashful suitor, who views at a distance the fair personage to whom, in his clownish awe, he dare not risk a near approach. Such is the clearest idea I can give you of my feeling towards children I like, but to whom I am a stranger;—and to what children am I not a stranger? They seem to me little wonders; their talk, their ways are all matter of half-admiring, half-puzzled speculation."

I wonder how her feelings would or wouldn't have changed, had she survived her pregnancy and gotten a child of her own with the husband she loved.

[lousypotatoes]

heyy! just wanted to say ive read your mukuroxreader n i love it :DD im not really sure if an ultimate!reader would count as an oc, but would it be alright if i request a gundham/gonta with an ultimate florist!femreader platonic imagine where theyre classmates? id also like to request one for hiyoko, mahiru n celestia but if its too much then gundham n gonta will be enough!

Friendship In Bloom - Platonic! Gundham/Gonta/Hiyoko x Female! Reader

Gundham Tanaka

Song Recommendation:

Zombie - The Cranberries

Y/N was in the school garden, looking for some flowers to put in a bouquet. While students were allowed to sit in the garden, her being the Ultimate Florist, she was one of the only people actually allowed to use it.

"What mysterious endeavor doth thou undertake amidst this verdant realm?" said a deep voice from behind her.

She turned around and saw none other than Gundham Tanaka, one of her classmates. She hung around him enough to understand the strange way he talked.

"Hi Gundham," she said brightly. I'm just picking some flowers to put in a bouquet. What are you doing here?"

"I am merely seeking solace before I embark to my next class," he said, sitting on one of the benches. "What mortal being is this bouquet for?"

"No one," she replied. "I'm just making it to pass the time, I might put it in my dorm."

"May I beseech thee with a question, Y/N?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," she answered. "Ask away."

"Might I implore upon thee, to craft me a bouquet?" he asked, blushing slightly. "'Tis intended as a gift for a soul dear to my heart."

"I'm guessing it's for Sonia?" she asked, smirking slightly.

"Maybe," he muttered, pulling his scarf up.

"Sure, I'd be happy to make you one!" she said. "Any flowers you have in mind?"

"Any blossoms in the hues of white or yellow shall suffice for this noble endeavor." Gundham said.

"Hmm alright," Y/N said. "I'll have it to you by Tuesday at the latest."

"I extend my deepest gratitude to you, Y/N!" he exclaimed, getting up. "Reveal to me the sum of currency that you require."

"You don't have to pay me, Gundham," she waved off. "I'm more than happy to do it for free."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course, anything for a friend!"

Gonta Gokuhara

Song Recommendation:

august - Taylor Swift

"I'm gonna punch Kokichi in his smug little face, I swear," Y/N muttered as she walked through the busy hallway.

She was forced to partner up with him for a chemistry project, and all he did was goof off, making Y/N do the whole thing be herself.

She needed to clear her head, and the only place to do that was the school garden.

As she entered, she was surprised to see that someone was already in it, sitting down in the dirt.

Hearing the footsteps behind him, Gonta turned around, a smile lighting up on his face once she saw Y/N.

"Hi Y/N!" he said.

"Hi Gonta," she smiled, setting down her bag. "What are you doing in here?"

"Gonta just here, looking at all the bugs in garden!" he exclaimed, showing her a butterfly on is finger. "So many, like little friends!"

Y/N giggled, sitting on the dirt next to Gonta.

"I didn't know that you came here, Gonta," she said, picking a tulip. "I've never seen you here before."

"Sometimes, Gonta come here to clear mind," he said quietly. "Nature good for thinking, make mind feel calm."

Y/N hummed in agreement.

"Gonta also come here to look at all bugs." he said.

"That's nice," she said, letting a ladybug land on her finger. "I didn't know anyone else came here but me."

"Gonta started coming here few weeks ago," he said.

"That explains why I haven't seen you then,"

The two of them stayed quiet, listening to the sounds of nature.

"What is that flower called?" Gonta asked, pointing at an Iris.

"Oh, that's an Iris," she said.

"What about that one?"

"That's a hydrangea,"

"And that one?"

"That's a Sakura tree," she said, smiling. "That's what our national flower grows on."

"Gonta didn't know you knew so much about flowers." he said.

"I am the Ultimate Florist after all," she laughed.

"Do you think you could teach Gonta more about flowers?" he asked, his eyes lighting up.

A small smile graced Y/N's face.

"Of course, Gonta. You see that one there? That's a Sumire..."

Hiyoko Saionji

Song Recommendation:

Speed Drive - Charli XCX

"Hey! Y/N!"

Y/N lifted her head up from her desk and saw tiny little Hiyoko walking towards her.

"What do you want, Hiyoko?"

"I need you to pick me some flowers," Hiyoko answered.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" Y/N asked.

"'Cause you're the Ultimate Florist and I know nothing about flowers," she said. "Pretty please?"

"Fine," Y/N said. "What are the flowers for?"

"None of your business," she said, sticking out her tongue.

"Fine, don't tell me," Y/N said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "What kind of flowers do you want?"

"Anything that's pretty and red,"

"That's not much of an answer but okay," Y/N muttered. "When do you need them by?"

"Tomorrow," Hiyoko simply said.

"Tomorrow!? I won't be able to-" Y/N cut herself off. "You know, fine. I'll get them to you tomorrow."

"Oh yay!" Hiyoko exclaimed. "I knew you'd be able to do it! Bye Y/N!" she said, as she ran out of the classroom.

"Wait! Hiyoko! You owe me-" she yelled, trying to get Hiyoko's attention, but Hiyoko was already down the hallway.

"Five dollars.." Y/N grumbled. "I am way too nice for my own good."

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

sorry it took me so long to upload this anon

i was planning on doing mahiru and celestia as well, but it was too much different scenarios to think of

i'm sorry 😭

stay safe and drinks lot's of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

[lunarwritesthings]

Unlikely Alliance

Paring: Early 2000's!Edge × F!Reader Fandom: Wwe Request: Yes, by @judgementdaysunshine Summary: You come out to help your boyfriend Edge, but what happens when an unexpected person comes out and wants to form an alliance?

Edge was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his face. In front of him, his biggest threat yet: Triple H. The Game had a smirk on his face, knowing that he had the advantage here. Suddenly, Edge's girlfriend came out, seemingly out of nowhere, and jumped up on the ropes. What would she do to help the situation?

However before anyone can do anything unexpected yet all to familiar music starts playing. The music of The Undertaker started playing. As he walked out onto the stage, everyone froze. What was the Deadman up to?

All three wrestlers in the ring stared at the Undertaker with surprise, unsure of what to do now. The Deadman made his way down to the ring and stared down at Edge. The whole crowd was on the edge of their seats, wondering what was about to happen.

Shockingly, once in the ring the Undertaker turned to Edge, and the two locked eyes. Edge looked to his girlfriend, who was still watching with a shocked expression. The Deadman extended out his hand, and to everyone's surprise, Edge took it. Had Edge lost his mind? Was he making a deal with the devil?

The Undertaker nodded at Edge, and the two of them stepped forward, forming a united front. Triple H was stunned, he had not expected this at all.

Triple H backed up, clearly scared of what they might do next. However Edge stepped forward, and spoke up to the Game.

"We're here to send a message," he said, his voice stern and unwavering. "And that message is: don't mess with us."

Edge's girlfriend just stood on the ring apron out of shock. She didn't understand what was happening in front of her eyes. However she definitely wasn't prepared for what Undertaker and Edge did next.

Edge turned to her with a determined expression on his face. "Can you join us?" he asked, extending his hand towards her. She hesitated for a moment, but then took his hand.

With a look of surprise, the Undertaker nodded, and the three of them stepped together towards Triple H. As the three of them approached, the crowd began freaking out due to the unexpected events.

As they came face to face with Triple H, the three of them raised their fists in a united gesture. With that The Undead Alliance was formed.

[girlfromthecrypt]

Hello!! I was wondering how the ROs would react if MC just picked them up randomly (or cause they were exited or smt. For example like,, bride style carrying them??)

The way Anita would melt at this!! She'd be over the moon, giggling like a schoolgirl. She also might just get comfortable in MC's arms. She's affection-starved, so... surprise! She lives there now.

Basil would think it's really fun. He'd probably share in the MC's excitement, whatever it was about. He's also used to getting picked up by his Dad (Mr Laurier Sr is huge and used to lift and toss his son around for fun all the time when he was little, and sometimes still does). So you're triggering happy, nostalgic memories for him! He'd probably feel super safe and loved.

Reem isn't used to getting picked up due to her height, so MC would quite literally be sweeping her off her feet! She'd laugh and then immediately try to make out with the MC, because frankly, I think getting carried bridal style would do things to her.

FLO WOULD SCREAM. I mean you're picking up a guy who's built like the fucking Undertaker, what the hell is going on how are you doing this???? How are you carrying him bridal style this is terrifying

[filthforfriends]

Chapter 4: Comfort

The Sun is the Center of Everything

See Authors Note (CW: Addiction, hard drug use)

Word count: 4.1k

“The label would like to fly you out to London.”

“Do they know we’re broken up?”

“This isn’t for an event. Sony believes that you’re the most effective kind of damage control when it comes to Damiano. They’re probably not wrong.”

“Is he okay?” Already, you’re opening Twitter.

“For now. I think he’s reached a turning point where the drugs are more scary than they are rewarding. If we can just get him into rehab…” In moments of wishful thinking, you’d done some research into rehab programs in Rome. In a moment of poor impulse control you’d stuck Damiano’s name on wait lists, which was no small undertaking. It meant using confidential healthcare information that you knew from the five year relationship. The fact that he hadn’t consented made it not entirely legal, but you justified it as a means to an end.

“The label is willing to refund Damiano for the program, whatever he chooses.” 

“I think the difference might be an Italian-speaking facility.”

“I agree. So you’ll come?”

“Yes,” you wince. This might go horribly and hurt like a motherfucker.  

“Good. Your flight leaves in four hours. The car service will drive you to the hotel. They have a gig tonight.”

“Oh lord.” The chauffeur actually took you straight to the venue, promising to deposit your belongings in your hotel room. You still had your friends and family badge. Wearing it again felt like putting on a costume. The cavernous backstage area was weirdly empty. You had to follow the arrows to the dressing rooms, of which there was an entire hallway. It was unusual that each band member had their own and that none of them were there to greet you. Handlers and security gathered around the entrance to what you assumed was Damiano’s room with crossed arms. You weren’t sure why, until you heard the yelling.

“Shit, he’s gonna shred his voice for tonight.”

“We’re past that point,” someone responds, not even looking at you.

“Just leave him to calm down,” another suggests.

“We need him for soundcheck,” someone else hisses. Many of these staff members were added since the breakup. Luckily, you found Ronnie.

“Hey, staring at him like a zoo animal isn’t helping, no?”

“Oh, hey. Yeah, um…” 

Damiano comes out of either a closet or bathroom, slams the door and bellows, “Why the fuck are you watching me?”

“We don’t know what he has on him or if he’s eaten today.” Damiano slides down with his back against the wall and curls in a ball behind the couch. He’s so defeated and powerless that it shatters your heart into splinters of glass.

“He’s totally dysregulated. Have you offered him food? Water?”

“He’s insisted that he won’t eat,” says another new voice. 

“Get him some pizza from the bougiest place you can find and if he doesn’t eat it, fine. What about his rider?”

“It contained alcohol so we had someone remove it.”

“You removed the whole rider, not just the alcoholic drinks?” You look at Ronnie in astonishment. “Fresh fruit is on his rider because he eats it before a gig. So he has something in his stomach, but it won’t make him sick running around on stage.”

“Right can, uh…can someone get some fresh fruit for Damiano?”

“No citrus, no pineapple,” you add. “Don’t need to douse his vocal chords in citric acid right before a gig. Also throat coat tea and cold compresses to help him calm down. Alkaline water, as well.” You look into the giant dressing room to see if he’s noticed your voice amongst all the others. Dami seems to be in his own little world, and not in a good way. You can’t do this with an audience.

“One more thing, could you just back up a little bit.” You herd the onlookers out of the doorway so you can achieve privacy. “Just a little more, mhm. Okay, great.” Before they realize what you’re doing, you close the doors of the dressing room in their surprised faces. Trying not to startle him, you place a hand on Dami’s back. It smells like he forgot to put on deodorant. Or maybe he was so stressed he sweated through it already.

When that doesn’t elicit a reaction, you rub his back and run your fingernails along his scalp. Dami shivers and looks up in confusion. That was your touch, but how the hell were you here? He’s obviously high, pupils completely blown out. Could phone camera’s catch that on stage? 

“I closed the doors, it’s just me and you here.” He’s still processing, confusion turning into surprise.

“What did you take? Blow and liquor?” He nods sheepishly and avoids your eyes. “What about pills?” Looking sincere, Damiano shakes his head. 

“They sent you here to talk to me?”

“I guess. I’m not here to chastise you, though. It seems like you needed some peace.” You stroke his head, then down his face. Dami leans into you organically. 

“Can we sit on the couch instead of the floor?” As he stands, there's a timid knock on the door. Someone slides a couple trays inside. Fruit and tea on one, ice water water and a stack of cloths on the other.

“Thank you,” you say curtly and lock the door. “Ohh-kay, do you want some tea for your voice?”

“No thank you,” Damiano clears his throat. You wrap the first cold rag on the back of his neck and use the second to softly wash his face, redipping to keep the cloth cold. As much as you’d like to ask questions, it was clear that soothing is what Damiano needed.

“I’m gonna go grab the other tray.” You start eating the fruit yourself, knowing that will encourage Dami, and he takes sips of tea. You exchange the rag on the back of his neck with a fresh one. This is the tipping point. He opens the water bottle, but doesn’t drink. Instead, Damiano reaches towards you, arms around your waist and head in your lap as his face crumples.

“I can’t control it!”

“I know,” you murmur, stroking his flushed complexion.

“I can’t control it and I don’t know what to do,” he cries. “I just want to go home.” How childlike we all are, when worn down to the bone.

“That’s why I’m here, to take you back to Rome after this gig.”

“No, I fucking hate Rome,” he bites.

“Rome is your home.”

“No, you were my home and now whenever I go to Rome I can’t come home.” Closing your eyes, you try to steady yourself, with a few deep breaths, then a few more. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“I fucked it all up and I’m afraid…it feels like I’m too far gone to turn back.”

“You are not too far gone! People spend years in hard drug addiction and they’re not too far gone. Please, don’t give up on yourself! I haven’t given up on you, not at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are right here, right now, acknowledging that this is out of your control.”

“I’m so afraid of getting better because there’s only one direction. If I don’t do it then I’ve failed. If I fail, then I might as well die.”

“No, that’s not true! If you’re alive, then there's always a chance to get better. And if you relapse, you can get clean again.” As you say the words, they sound more like a Hallmark card than a mature piece of advice. Neither of you were equipped to handle this particular moment.

“Then you won’t want me anymore!”

“Yes, I will! My love isn’t that fragile. I am not that fragile. I dealt with your self-destructive alcoholic ass for months before we ended it.”

“I’m never happy. Even the blow doesn’t make me happy, it just keeps me going. The other day I was so close to trying crack, just to see if I would fucking feel something again.

“But you didn’t?”

“No, but I almost –” You lean down and press a long kiss to Dami’s cheek.

“You’ve already started getting sober then. Plus you’ve admitted that you need to get better, that this is all out of your control. Three weeks ago you couldn’t say that. You’re doing good.”

“It feels like it was all for nothing. I burned every bridge to force Sony’s hand in a new contract, and now I’m even more miserable than before. I can’t even enjoy it because I can’t enjoy anything! I’ve driven so many people away and the ones left are other addicts, but they’re all fucking miserable too. I can see them pretending they’re not and its so fucking depressing that sometimes I don’t even want to –”

”Go on,” you whisper horsely, stiller than a granite statue.

“I don’t even want to be alive anymore,” he finally admits. “The entire world thinks I’m a druggie playboy and they’re not wrong. I’ve destroyed all my credibility, every good thing that people thought about me and I’ll never get it all back.”

“I disagree, I think an epic rebrand will be humanizing and make you more lovable than ever. People crave a comeback story.”

“But I never put 100% into getting sober before! I don’t know how to try, what if I’m not good at it?”

“I guarantee you won’t be, which is why you’re going to go to one of the best rehab facilities in Rome. You’re gonna get psychiatric care to treat the why of your addiction so you can stay clean.”

“Come on,” Damiano sits up, face riddled with skepticism. “It takes weeks or months to get into those places.” He starts eating just like you’d predicted.

“That's why you’ve been on half a dozen waitlists for a few months.” Damiano scoffs and catches a grape in his mouth.

“No I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

“How would I –” When he makes the connection, Dami’s mouth falls open in surprise. “You? But you’d need my SSN and fiscal code, right?” You nod with a self-satisfied grin. “Did you steal my identity, y/n?”

“For your own good.” He shakes his head in mock disapproval, but gives it away with a poorly suppressed smile. “I secured a spot for you before I got on the plane.” Secured was a nice way of saying frantically called and pathetically begged until I got a yes. His face falls.

“What? Do you really hate Rome that much? I’ll visit you.”

“No, no…I was just hoping for an excuse to stop by the apartment for a night.”

“When you get out, you’ll make me dinner and meet Cheeto, okay?”

“I’d love that. We’ll have– ‘scuse me.” He makes a face then bolts to the bathroom. Damiano turns on the faucet and fan, but you can guess the sound he’s concealing. Giving him a few minutes before checking in, you snoop through all his stuff. In the bottom of his box of cigarettes is a mostly empty dime bag of white powder that you almost missed. There’s also a pill case at the bottom of his purse which has coke in it, too. You feel silly after checking the room itself for drugs, as if Damiano wasn’t taping heroin to the underside of the sickly-green velvet couch.

“Babe?” Oops. “Dami, I’m coming in okay. In sickness and in health.” He’s sitting on the floor in the corner, panting, face scrunched in pain. You retrieve the water and cold compress tray.

“You really can’t keep anything down?” He shakes his head, obviously exhausted. “I’m so sorry. I know that cocaine can be hard on your stomach.”

“My own fault,” he winces.

“Yeah, but I still hate seeing you suffer.” You sit down on the floor beside Dami and pull his legs across your lap. Naturally, his head rests on your shoulder. You rub his back for a while, wiping it down with a cold cloth first.

“That's nice,” he whispers.

“Mhm.” You make a fresh one to wipe the sweat from his face. Then you take an ice cube and run it across the top of Dami’s chest to stimulate the vagus nerve. His breathing starts to slow and he leans into you more.

“I really miss this.”

“Affection?”

“Comfort. Everyone is…exhausted with me.” Not knowing what to say, you wrap one arm around Dami, set the other hand above his knee, then rock back and forth. For a few more minutes, you sit in silence on the hard tiles of the bathroom floor, just being together.

“Okay, I’m about to fall asleep, which means I need to get ready.” With a grunt, Damiano stands upright, then pulls you up after him. “Thank you, my lo – sweet – y/n.”

“Smooth.”

“Mm, thanks,” he cringes, walking up to the sink. He picks up a travel toothbrush and fresh tube of toothpaste that someone had already left there, prepared for this moment. You unlock the door and peek your head out to find Ronnie leaning his back against the opposite wall. 

“Hey is he, is he gonna do the show?”

“Yeah, can you get us tickets back to Rome as soon as possible? His place is being held at a facility that does 24/7 intake.”

“Like right after the gig?”

“Yeah, I don’t feel comfortable taking care of him overnight. He needs people who know what they’re doing.”

“So he agreed to rehab. How’d you get him in?” 

“Uh, name dropped,” you shrug, trying not to overcompensate. “So by the end of the show we’ll need a car ready with all our luggage, plus a change of clothes for Dam.

“Something inconspicuous. There’ll be a car waiting when you land, of course.”

“What if Twitter finds out we’re traveling?” Fans wanting a picture was inconvenient, but paparazzi wanting a story were truly the worst ever.

“Security will be there as soon as you deplane. We’ll keep this need to know.”

“‘Kay because he can’t handle any stress. I’ll need an ETA before we take off to give the facility and um…I don’t want him to get arrested for drug possession.”

“Damiano never puts drugs in his luggage, he always keeps them on his person.” You can already feel the nerves of walking by drug sniffing K-9s, hoping to god that there isn’t any significant residue in the bottom of his pant’s pocket.

“So we’re depending on the addict to be rational, thorough, and honest in the process of throwing all his drugs out? Really?”

“He’s good about not taking stuff through TSA. We wipe everything down. There's a system and we haven’t been caught yet.”

“And as great as that is –”

“Y/n,” Ronnie takes both your hands in his own. “Neither of you will end up in English prison tonight, I promise.” The lingering skepticism is written all over your face. “I promise,” he insists. 

Damiano acts the very same before going on stage. He smokes a cigarette and bounces in place to mitigate his own adrenaline.You always stand with him in this moment, rubbing his arms and reminding Dami to be gentle while stretching his neck. It’s comforting to see the band comradery persist now that they’ve come together. There's fist bumps, plus Thomas and Victoria threatening to ruin the other’s performance. Mia is joking along with them, cheeks flushed and her top inside out. Tom keeps a hand on the neck of his guitar so it doesn’t hit her.

At this moment, you’d kiss Dami good luck, having to get on your tiptoes because of his stage shoes. Today you slink into the shadows and see him take a breath from an oxygen canister. Their stage manager counts down from ten while shining a flashlight at the floor, so no one trips on a wire or seam in the stage. You can see him put the persona on, then drop the cigarette on the floor and stamp it out. If you were beside him, Dami would take a final puff and hand it over for you to finish. 

Ethan goes on stage first, then the rest of them. The audience releases a wall of sound and the unhinged screaming only intensifies as the lights go up. You can barely hear Ethan’s sticks click as he counts the band in. Mia cheers with the crowd, in case Thomas looks back. They never look back, but you both did it anyway. Just in case. She begins walking towards the audience exit. It was easiest to slip in front of the barricade unnoticed at the beginning because of the hysteria. You feel the tug in your chest to go with her, sing the lyrics to songs that Damiano had shown you first. 

“Y/n! Oh my god!!” It's jarring to be noticed in real time since you feel so stuck in memories.

“Mia, hey!” You try to match her enthusiasm. “Looks like you’re having fun.” You flick the tag of her blouse as she comes in for the hug.

“Yeah, this venue is huge!” She doesn’t pick up the reference, but enthusiastically agrees anyway. Her and Thomas were both like that: sunny.

“I see you made use of the space.” Mia finally looks down.

“Oh shit! We weren’t sure how long the show was delayed, but Tom thought we had more time to, you know, finish. I wouldn’t touch his guitar if I were you.”

“Ew! You guys are disgusting, I’m so happy for you.” 

“Yeah, thank you!” she laughs. “Let me just...” Mia ducks into Thomas’ dressing room and fixes her top. “So, c’mon let’s go watch.”

“I, um…We’re not back together.”

“Okay, but I’m sure Dam would love to see you out there.”

“I can’t be filmed or photographed today. Also if you could not tell anyone that I’m here?”

“Uh, sure,” she’s put off, torn between staying backstage with you and watching the show.

“But, you go ahead! I have a ton of work stuff anyway, so I’m actually gonna be busy.” A total lie, but Mia isn’t the type to question the authenticity of a friend.

“Oh, okay! Love ya, good luck!” She pulls you in for a goodbye side hug, and practically skips down the hall. Was Damiano expecting to see you in front of the barricade? He probably hadn’t thought about the social media and paparazzi component, which meant he’d be disappointed. This realization didn’t change anything, it just made you miserable. 

Except for the roadies, it's just you backstage. The actual concert was their time off, since they began hauling gear in total darkness as soon as the band finished. Despite how labor intensive their jobs were, the crew was in good spirits, their laughter echoing down the hall. They wore all black with tattoos scribbled on their forearms and cursed as much as possible. You consider saying hi, but this is no longer your space. It'd be like walking into your childhood bedroom with the Justin Bieber posters, hot pink bedspread, and tinkerbell night light still intact. You were visiting a past life, like a ghost.

While Thomas opens the encore with his solo, Dami runs back to his dressing room. You know that his body has become dependent on coke to get through a show and that if he stops now, he’ll crash before you can hand him off to the professionals. Still, it's awkward for both parties. Damiano pulls the pill case from his purse and looks at you with a pained expression.

“I…can’t do this while you’re watching.”

“Right, okay.” You stand up and gesture towards the door. “So I’ll just…”

“No, no, you shouldn’t have to leave. I’ll just go in the bathroom.” Dami closes the door halfway and hesitates because that seems a bit excessive.

“Are you gonna shove it up your ass or?” Dami’s laughter bounces off of the tiles.

“No, I only do that on certain occasions.”

“Like a birthday special?”

“Exactly.” You can hear the tap of something plastic against the porcelain sink. “Can you tell me you’re disappointed in me or something? This feels wrong.” You try to come up with something to say, but end up blanking.

“You are…a very bad boy.”

“Kinky.”

“Ugh, I’m trying! Disappointing…your behavior is disappointing. You are too grown not to know better. Refusing to acknowledge a problem exists is…counter productive to healing. You need to prioritize healing because nobody can do that for you. You have –”

“Okay, done!”

“Thank god.”

“See you in 15!” You walk around the kitchen collecting possibly useful supplies for the car ride, plus the pizza box with Dami’s name on it. The chauffeur walks down the hall with Damiano’s clothes in a garment bag.

“Your flight departs in two hours and 41 minutes,” he says in a professional tone. “Shall I take that to the car?”

“Huh?” Oh, thank you.” The jitters have already started to set in. “And has Damiano’s luggage been inspected?”

“Inspected, ma’am?”

“Yes, has someone on their team looked through it?”

“His luggage was packed by a member of their staff, although I am not sure if they inspected it in the process. Should I ask?”

“Yes, please.” He walks away looking bewildered. You hear the final scream of the concert and try to locate Damiano through the rush of activity backstage. Each band member walks towards the dressing rooms with a towel in hand, drying the sweat from their faces. Dami is exhausted, but he smiles wide when he sees you.

“Hey, were you out there?” 

“No, I didn’t want to get mobbed when those photos hit Twitter.”

“Ah, smart.” He’s still disappointed.

“I’m sorry, but I need you to hurry up and shower. There's a change of clothes hanging in the bathroom. Also I made a cup of baking soda and water for your stomach. Our flight leaves in two and a half hours.”

“Jesus.” He pulls his shirt off while walking into the dressing room, the muscles of his slick back rippling. For a moment you’re very distracted with memories of digging your fingernails into that back while he fucked you to overstimulation. Or when you’d peg him from behind, cupping his balls in the palm of your hand, lips to the nape of his neck. Damiano made the most beautiful sounds when he bottomed. So whiny and demanding.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

“Huh?”

“I was saying it's so nice to see you,” Victoria panted. Ethan agrees behind her.

“Yes, you look well.” His formal way of speaking had endeared you from the very first meeting. Tom is nowhere to be found, probably finishing what he and Mia started before the gig.

“Oh uh, thanks. Sorry, I’m distracted. Our flight is…soon. Too soon.”

“Like tonight?” Victoria exclaims, pulling her own shirt off. She was bare breasted and unapologetic as per usual.

“Yeah, I guess the sooner, the better.”

“So he’s really going? Of his own volition?” 

“Mhm! He’ll be in the facility by breakfast tomorrow.” 

“Oh my god, that's amazing,” Ethan lets out a huge sigh of relief and Vic grins.

“I’d hug you if I wasn’t disgusting.”

“Well, that’d just give me a boner,” you deadpan. Nobody loved raunchy, flirtatious humor like Victoria.

“Ooh, well since you and Dam are on a break…” She wiggles her eyebrows and shimmies closer, sauntering around you with a provocative expression. Meanwhile, Ethan is silently laughing with his eyes scrunched. It's enough to evoke a genuine smile, but also your heart aches for the months you’d missed with these dumbasses.

“Since he’s busy, do you want me to show you what it’s supposed to feel like?” She gives an over exaggerated wink. There had been a strictly no band members policy in your non-monogamy.

“I heard that! Keep your paws off of her, Vic!!” Dami yells from the bathroom.

“Ugh, fine!” She gives your ass a robust slap before disappearing into her dressing room. Your understanding was that “on a break” and broken up were vastly different things, even though phonetics would suggest otherwise. Had Damiano lied or were you reading too much into it? And why did it make you so happy? Before you can get caught in a hell cycle of intrusive thoughts, Ronnie walks up and hugs you. 

“I’m really glad you came,” he admits, pulling away. Your arms hang limply by your sides in surprise. Ronnie wasn’t the hugging type or the emotional type, but his eyes are glassy. It throws you off guard even further.

“You okay?”

“What? Yeah.” He clears his throat roughly. “And we checked everything twice. Someone is currently wiping out Damiano’s purse, just for you.” 

“We can’t all be rock ‘n roll. Some of us have to be anal as fuck.”

“Agreed. I just wanted to wish you luck.” He gives a tight lipped smile and continues down the hall.

“Am I gonna need it?”

“Hopefully not,” he yells over his shoulder.

“Very reassuring, thanks.”

Notes: This is queue. I am currently camping because today is the anniversary of my grandmother's death. Taglist will be updated when I return. Thank you for reading, I promise it gets way less depressing really soon.

-XOXO Eden

Taglist (or taglist removal)

Masterlist

@surelyfreedombound @shinshans @lonnybunnys @davianos-blog @hauntedpostperson @lizzylynch1 @kammerstx@harryssshouseee @slavicgoddess13 @persona1read1ng@katyldamusic @whore4damia @the-chaotic-cow@icarodamiano @gr8rainbowpunk@elvirabelle@bright-shiningstar@maneslut @stardustingold @little-moonbeam-666@que--sera--sera

[isfjmel-phleg]

Why I think you guys might like Space Boy

Space Boy is a webcomic by Stephen McCranie. It's being gradually published in book form, but you can read the entire thing (as it currently stands--it's still in progress) online here.

It's set in the future in a world that's a little to the left of ours, and it begins with a girl named Amy, who lives on a mining colony in deep space. When her father loses his job, the family has to relocate to Earth. It's a long journey that requires them to be cryogenically frozen for the duration so they don't have to waste decades of their lives. Unfortunately, that means that Amy will wake up to find that she's now thirty years younger than her friends from home. It's a difficult adjustment, not only that but having to get used to a planet she's never been to before, but experiencing Earth for the first time is also cause for wonderment. Twinkling stars! Blue skies! Birds! Snow!

Amy has a form of synesthesia in which she perceives other people as having "flavors." Her mom is mint, her best friend is pineapple and jalapeno, etc. So at her new school, she is surprised to encounter a boy who, unlike anyone else she's ever met, has no flavor. None at all. Her curiosity will lead to even more mystery--no one knows who exactly this boy is, and there are a lot of rumors swirling around him--but also a friendship. Oliver has a lot of secrets, and as a result of her association with him, Amy will find herself caught up in a situation that's bigger and more dangerous than she could have anticipated.

And that's the plot, but what it's about is how to make sense of a world that seems chaotic and uncaring, how to find meaning when everything seems meaningless. It's about isolation and the need for human connection. It's about love. It's sweet and joyful and tragic and funny and poignant and suspenseful and gentle by turns. Although the story itself does not overtly address religion, the worldview is subtly, beautifully Christian.

A lot of what made me love this story was the characters. They feel very real. Amy is warm-hearted and guileless and determinedly optimistic, but she's got her share of struggles and low points alongside her sunniness. Oliver has a very different nature from hers, no less complex, and he's in the middle of a fantastic character arc. Their relationship, which progresses from friendship to romantic interest, is well-written; they bring out the best in each other, are mutually willing to sacrifice for the other, and are making genuine effort to be supportive and encouraging despite a lot of complications. I do not say this lightly: I ship it.

The supporting cast is excellent too, and many of these characters have their own subplots that connect to the main themes. This world feels well-populated with a variety of people that have their own stories and their own growth (...or not) to undertake.

The art is lovely, and it gets better and better as McCranie solidifies his style. There are fun unique design traits, like Amy's distinctive pigtails and pointy feet (her design was originally based off a teardrop motif!). The world is visually interesting, and I find this story to be as pleasant to look at as it is to read.

Anyway, I don't know if this is enough propaganda for you guys, but I'm willing to elaborate further if necessary. It's worth a try, you can read it for free, and it comes in small increments that make it easy to pick up whenever you have a free moment.

I enjoyed it a lot (the hiatus can't end soon enough for me), and maybe you would too!

[devastator1775]

Hope, Love and V - Chapter 2: the decision to move forward

Chapter summary: V has to deal with visitors, revelations and important decisions.

It took V a while before she managed to return fully back to the here-and-now after her realization that her legs weren’t functioning. Her doctor had been rambling off possible directions they could undertake, but she had a hard time registering to any of them. Even after he realized that V wasn’t listening to him and decided to leave her alone to ‘process this change’, as he had put it, all V could do was stare at her legs – or the useless pieces of metal that they now were.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t shout.

She didn’t throw blame towards anyone …except maybe the Sentinels that used her spine and legs for chewing toys.

She couldn’t feel anger, sadness, fear or anything else.

She just felt numb.

Like her legs.

Once V finally managed to snap herself out of her gloomy dissonance, she figured that she feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t do anything for her right now. She needed to make sense of things and get a grip on her situation. she began by just trying to get everything sorted out mentally. She went over what happened to her and what she could remember the doctor told her. There were still things that didn’t make sense to the story. Gaps and coincidences too convenient to sound true. Things she hoped that Uzi and N could shed some light on.

But until then, all she could do was rest and wait.

The day after her awakening felt so surreal to V. Nurses came in to check up on her, checking the levels of her coolant IV bag and feed her lithium flavoured jell-oil cups. It was weird, feeling hunger like ‘a normal Drone’ – if she even could call herself that now. She had been so used to that ever-present thirst and hunger for worker Drone oil and now …she was enjoying the gelatinous treat provided by those she used to hunt.

Really, though, she was on her tenth cup. Why was she enjoying this so much? Maybe something about small comforts during troubling times or some mushy feel-good nonsense like that. She hated how the mushy feel-good nonsense seemed to help her a little, tough.

After she scooped out the last bit of the wiggly, black substance and popped it in her mouth, she finally set her tray aside. She looked down at her legs, trying to ignore that cold feeling that was setting in her stomach. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the components in her legs. “C’mon…. just wiggle” She whispered at herself.

Nothing happened.

She gritted her teeth so hard, she felt that her jaw might pop out of its socket.

Nothing.

She tried again.

Nothing. Nothing.

Again.

Nothing. Nothing! NOTHING!

With a frustrated growl, she flopped backwards on her pillow. She really wanted to kick her feet in anger, but oh wait: she couldn’t! She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. The whole situation with her legs was bad enough, but she was getting so fed up with being alone in this room, bored out of her mind. While she was keeping herself busy switching out her hand for her various tools – just to check if they still work, as she told herself – a knock on the door roused her from her ‘maintenance’. “What!?” No idea why she felt like she just got caught doing something naughty.

The door opened and a familiar voice sounded. “Well, here I was hoping that the coma would have improved your attitude a bit, but alas…” Uzi commented with a grin as she walked in. V was surprised how cheery she seemed to be, despite one of her arms being in some contraption and resting on a sling.

“Purple thing, you still live!” V exclaimed, trying her best to sound casual, but unable to keep the genuine smile to flash across her face. “Where the goofball?”

“He wanted to come, but he promised dad that he would help him and the WDF with the cleanup today. He’ll be by later.” Uzi walked over to V and threw her good arm around her to hug her, which V, after a few moments of deciding between ‘acting like a bad bitch’ or ‘just go with it’, returned. “I’m so glad you’re awake. We – me and N - wanted to come over yesterday when we heard, but the nurses didn’t let us.”

“I thought I heard your annoying voice in the hallway, but I figured the night terrors were back again.” She could practically feel Uzi rolling her eyes, but they both chuckled. She brought her voice down to a whisper. “So, seeing Copper-9, the Colony and all of us are still alive and around …I take it that the Solver is…?”

Uzi nodded in V’s shoulder. “The Absolute Solver is destroyed. Gone. From me. You. N. No thirst or need to hunt. We won.”

“I’ll admit, having no desire to hunt down Worker Drones and drain them for their oil to sustain myself …is kinda nice. Still kinda weird not seeing Drones nearly soil themselves at the sight of me, though.” She patted Uzi’s back and gently pushed her off. “Okay, okay, get off. Don’t want people think we’re friends or anything.” She didn’t mean that, obviously. The road that their friendship had taken was rough – understatement of the year – , but she couldn’t deny that there was a bond between them and she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. She’d never say it out loud, off course.

Uzi snorted in amusement. “Please, with N and I visiting you pretty much every day since they brought you in, I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the Colony assumes that we’re besties.”

“Ugh, you really aren’t the type to use peppy slang like that, Doorman.” V teased back. “Leave that to the professionals, like Lizzie.”  

“Speaking of her ….” Uzi rested her good hand on V’s bed and leaned in close, grinning slyly. “She’s been visiting you pretty regularly as well. Almost more than me and N.”

“O-oh, really?” V asked, really wishing that the sub-routine that defined the intensity of her blushing wasn’t at 100% effectiveness right now. “I mean, cool. Didn’t know she cared.”

“Oh, I believe she cares more than you give her credit for.” Uzi teased, but keeping her voice gentle. No need to rattle the hornets’ nest too much. “She even skipped class a few times to spend the day here.”

V felt her visor heat up as she blushed. “Like that’s new. She would do that every other week, like it was the latest trend.” V countered, still blushing. Though, she did start skipping class more often after the whole prom thing and they started to hang out more. Luckily, Lizzy can afford missing a few classes, since she’s smarter than people would assume of her. She’s actually quite intelligent and pretty and funny and - Nope, not ready to deal with those emotions. Time to change the topic. V nodded towards the sling around Uzi’s arm. “Speaking of fashion: what’s with the accessory?”

Uzi, deciding to give V a little respite from the teasing, glanced at her sling and shrugged. “Let’s say that no-one got out of that last confrontation with the Solver unscathed.  Like, it really messed it us up. N and I still have regular repairs, as you can see.”

“Yeah, the doc mentioned it was pretty touch-and-go when they brought you two in.” V crossed her arms and looked away with a scowl. “At least you can get repaired.” She realized that she had muttered that a bit too noticeably and looked back at her visitor, grimacing when she saw Uzi’s regretful expression. “Sorry, I …ever since I woke up, things have been ….” She let out a heavy sigh. “Well, it’s been an ordeal.”

“I …I heard.” Uzi said as she took a chair and sat down, trying her best not to start staring at V’s legs. She cautiously reached out to V’s legs and placed her hand on them, glancing over to the former Disassembly Drone as if waiting for her to tell her not too. “Can the doctors do something about it?”

V rubbed her face, letting out a frustrated groan. “Yeah, a few, with chances of success of me walking again ranging from ‘a sliver’ to ‘cautiously optimistic’. My favourite treatment that they suggested to replace my legs completely with new ones.” She scoffed. “As my doc put it: ‘it has the greatest chance of restoring some of your mobility to the point you can be proficiently self-reliable.’.”

“That’s …good, right?” Uzi cautiously asked.

“I guess…”

“I’m …almost afraid to ask, but what about your wings? Couldn’t you…?”

V looked away, biting her lower lip. She hadn’t had the chance to really check up on her wing situation. She could still feel them, but she had a pretty good idea they weren’t in a great state either. At one point during her battle with the Sentinels, she had tried to fly up and get some higher ground, but the mechanical raptors had pulled her down, their metal teeth sinking in the metallic blades that made up her ‘feathers’. Even if the metallurgy surgeons could fix up her wings, she doubted that she would be able to use them without triggering seizures.

V stared in front of her as the conversation died down, leaving them sitting in silence. She looked up when she heard Uzi take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, V.” Uzi said, a digital tear forming under her eye.

“For what?” V asked, genuinely confused. “You’re not the one who did this to me?”

“Same thing.” The young Drone stated. She fidgeted nervously with the hem of her hoodie. “If I hadn’t- “

V’s hand shot out and grabbed Uzi’s wrist, pulling her close. “Let me make one thing clear, Uzi Doorman.” She stated sternly, holding a tight grip around the latter’s arm. “I made the choice to stay behind. The Sentinels would have gotten to you if I hadn’t and then Cyn, The Solver: they would have won.” She released Uzi’s arm and leaned back into her pillow. “And seeing that we’re all still around to feel sorry for ourselves, it was a good choice, no matter what has happened to me. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself, because I am not blaming you for anything. And you shouldn’t too.”

“But- “

“No buts, Purple Thing.” V interrupted. “I mean what I said. Yeah, this sucks. Yes, I’m sad. Yes, I’m angry. I am dealing with a lot of emotions while dealing with this whole situation, but …” She took a deep breath, and eventually produced a smile. “Do you really think I am going to let something like this hold me back? At all? I am going to conquer this. I am going to show my doctors, our friends, you, N and myself that I am strong enough to overcome this …however long it’s going to take.”

Uzi, after leaving her mouth agape for a few moments, wrapped her good arm around V and hugged her again. “Thank you, V.”

“You’re welcome, idiot.” She pushed Uzi off her with a grin.

Uzi leaned in close, bringing her voice to a whisper. “You know …Cyn mentioned a few times that she had backups of you guys. J got a new body after I killed her. Maybe Tessa- “

“No.”

“But- “

“No!” V repeated curtly.

“It would- “

“Uzi, listen.” V took a deep breath, folding her hands on her lap. “Don’t you think I’ve considered that possibility? It was probably the first things I’ve thought off. Call Tessa and let her put my brain in a new body, but …”

“But?”

“I’m scared, Uzi.” V confessed. “What if you put me in a new body and it’s not …’me’? What if I’ll reboot and it’s just a new psychotic murder Drone with the name ‘V’? I’m not taking that risk if it means that I’ll lose any sort of personal growth I made since coming here.”

“J got a new body, and she seemed like her annoyingly, holier-than-thou self.”

V scoffed. “That’s not saying much. I think ‘workaholic company worshipper’ is just her default personality.” She took a deep breath. “No, I’m done being a Disassembly Drone. Done being a constant reminder about having been a plaything for eldritch being that tells me who I am and what I need to do. I …I just want to be V, even if ‘being V’ means I’ll need to somehow live with this broken body.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Dead serious.” V answered with a steely gaze. She gave Uzi a sly grin. “However, if you ever see signs I actually regret, just repeat all that crap I said about ‘being strong’ and ‘plaything’.”

Uzi chuckled. “I can do that.”

“Attagirl.” V folded her hands behind her back and tried to relax into her pillow. She felt lucky her little rant hadn’t caused her to seize up, despite having felt her servos twitch a few times. She didn’t want to let Uzi see that. Uzi felt bad enough without having to witness that. When she was certain that Uzi wouldn’t bring up the topic again, she allowed herself to relax again and leaned back on her pillow. “I’ll tell you what, I’m going to miss flying, though.”

“Yeah, me too.” When V gave her a quizzical look, she shrugged. “No more Solver means that my mutations have vanished as well. Still, with N still having them, he’s been doing the flying for the both of us during our da-aaaaaah nothing!”

“No, no, I heard it!” V pointed out with a massive grin. “You were gonna say ‘dates’, weren’t you?”

Uzi blushed so hard that her visor almost become a floodlight, but she nodded with a giddy smile. “Okay, fine, yes: me and N are dating. Quite happily so.”

“Well, …about time. Honestly, seeing you guys fumble around each other like that was getting tiresome. I didn’t need a season 2 of that show.” V commented, relishing that she had found a new thing to tease Uzi with. “So, I take it that you finally got over your teenage angst and confessed first?”

“Uh, actually …N confessed first …technically.” Uzi corrected, blushing slightly.

“Technically?”

“Well, I’m sure it counts, but the moment sucked considering If was taken over by the Absolute Solver and it was fighting N and my mom.”

V froze. Did her audio receptors glitch or… “Did you say ‘mom’? As in: ‘your dead mom’?” She asked. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what, I’m done with the whole happy small talk. Can you please fill me in on what happened after I heroically sacrificed myself and ended up a Sentinel Tug-o’-war toy?” 

“Yeah, I guess I owe you that….” Uzi rubbed the back of her head, pondering on what to tell first. “There’s a lot, so …get ready.”

V listened as Uzi told what happened after she and the rest of the group had ‘separated’, and each new revelation was another kick in the face. Uzi told about how she had left Tessa and N behind after she started to get scared of what they might do to her. How she had found the video logs of the morally ambiguous and borderline cruel experiments JCJENSON had performed on the Drones infected with the Solver. How it showed Uzi and Doll’s mother being the last survivors of those experiments and that they both had a hand – no pun intended – in the core collapse that brought an end to the human civilization. About a critically injured Doll and how Tessa tried to kill her. About N trying to stop her and how their fight ended up in N stabbing Tessa through the chest.

She told V about how she had blacked out as the Absolute Solver finally took complete possession of her. How Nori stepped in to stop the Solver from killing N and their subsequent fight. The details of said fight were later told to the latter by N afterwards. How the Solver almost ate her mother’s core, but N’s confession of him and Uzi ‘hanging out’ brought her back.

V had to admit, the mental image of Uzi punting her mother into the Evil Pit™ and being so flustered by N that she only could screech was hilarious to her. Less hilarious was the revelation that Tessa not only had survived her stabbing, but everything she told afterwards. How she had survived the massacre in her childhood, how she had started working for the Humanity Remnant Government and her infiltration in JCJENSON. How they had found Cyn and everything that happened to her when she had confronted the possessed Drone. How the human ended up a flesh suit for Cyn’s core, changing her from the inside out, until she ended up half-Drone, half-human. She knew she had a bad feeling about Tessa from the moment she appeared on Copper-9, but after what Uzi had told the horrors the former had gone through, she only felt regret and sadness for the little girl that once took in broken Drones because she didn’t have any other friends.

She felt a sense of pride in her prey-turned-friend when Uzi told her how she sacrificed herself to the flesh pit and how she put her faith in N, just like V had once put in her. The rest of the story was pretty straightforward. N met up with J, who somehow had been fighting with Khan, Lizzy and Thad and how they managed to convince J to work together. From there, Uzi finished her story by recalling everything she went through to bring the fight to the Absolute Solver. A series of events so intricate, scary and a little wholesome that V almost had no time to understand it all. Somehow the group had found out that the JCJ scientists not only had made a patch to sever the Solver’s connection to a Drone, but they had also managed to produce a kill switch, but they never had been able to test it. After a lengthy ordeal, they had managed to reunite and get their hands on the Kill Patch. After that …

“And then …. everything happened so fast.” Uzi took a deep breath, wiping away a digital tear. “My mom went in to use the Kill Patch on the Solver, by stabbing it into its core. It just …screamed and thrashed around, like a feral animal trying to survive. Just explosions and rubble falling around us everywhere. I had lost my arm – again. N was on the brink of going offline. My mom …was nowhere to be found. We …we almost wouldn’t have made it out of there, if Tessa and J hadn’t picked us up in their pod.”

“J to the rescue …small miracles …” V muttered. “Jeez, seems I missed out on a lot when I was out. Then what happened?”

“Once we were in the pod, all of us – minus Tessa – started …changing. Me, N and J’s mutations just …painfully removing themselves from us. It nearly killed N. We thought he had gone permanently offline. I begged. I screamed.” Uzi blushed. “I told him I loved him. He woke up. We kissed.”

V jokingly made a gagging noise, with Uzi sticking her tongue out at her. “Anyway, Tessa and J dropped us off in the Colony for repairs, while Tessa covertly checked our code for traces of the Solver Code. A few days later, the WDF sent out people to find, uh …”

“My remains?” V asked with a smirk.

“Hey, we all assumed you were gone.” Uzi admitted sheepishly. “We were so happy when we got the message that you miraculously survived.”

“Yeah, I got a sneaking suspicion on who that miracle was …” She glanced over at Uzi, her expression dark. “What happened to Doll?”

Uzi shook her head, letting out a saddened sigh. “No idea. We haven’t seen her since that day in Cabin Fever Labs.” She admitted. “She vanished during the fight between the Solver, N and my mom. We first assumed that she went back to the surface to kill you, but …”

“Instead, she actually rescued me – most of me - from the Sentinels.” V crossed her arms. “I suppose I should be grateful that she had a change of H.E.A.R.T. and saved me from being robo-chew. And she hasn’t resurfaced?”

“Search parties have been looking for weeks.” Uzi explained. “From what we can see on security cameras, we know she came back to the Colony once to collect some of her things. But ever since that …nothing. Gone. Vanished from the face of the planet, it seems.”

“I guess after everything that has happened, she must have her own reasons.” V sighed, conflicted about her feelings regarding the Russian speaking Drone. Despite their animosity, she had risked her own life to save V from those Sentinels. Why save someone she hated? Why did she disappear? Maybe there would come a time that she would be able to ask Doll herself, but until then …there were other questions anyway. “What happened to Cyn and your mom? Is she …?”

“We haven’t seen Cyn’s core since it jumped into the flesh pit. We assume that the Solver assimilated her completely and …destroyed her. N has been looking for her, trying to find some trace of her, dead or alive.” Uzi clenched her eyes shut, but there was a hint of a hopeful smile on her lips. “As for my mom … We …we haven’t found her core yet. She might still be out there. In all the chaos when the Solver perished, we lost sight of her. There is a lot of rubble to sift through and the work is going slowly because those tunnels seem to stretch out across the entire planet. Maybe …” Uzi sighed and let her head hang.

V couldn’t imagine what Uzi was going through. She had wanted to know about her mom her entire life, and suddenly she was there and gone before she could spend time with her. V was a realist but she hoped there was a chance. Uzi deserved as much. She let out a breath, her mind still processing everything that Uzi had told her. “Man …it’s a lot.”

“Yeah …”

“One thing, though.” V commented as she sat up again. “From what my doc told me, I got the feeling you didn’t tell anyone else what you just told me. There were a lot of gaps and ‘fortunate coincidences’ in his story.”

“Yeah, we …we decided that it would be best if everyone was told a-“ Uzi bit her lower lip as she mulled over the right expression. “Better digestible story. Evil eldritch AI, cruel experimentation on Drones, borderline magic powers, possession, …it’s a lot to take in, and I lived through that.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Not only the colony, but Tessa had to tell the human Government she works for something as well. We feared that people would react …badly if they knew the full truth. So, we told them an abridged version, something that sounded more realistic.” Uzi wrung her hands together. “Knowing what the internet has told me about human history, they’d rather nuke the entire planet into space dust than risk happening something like this again. Tessa has enough evidence to put most of the blame on JCJENSON and divert any suspicion away from us.”

“Serves them right, from what I heard.” V scoffed. “They did experiment on a malevolent AI that already had destroyed their home planet, so I figure they get what’s coming to them.”

“I’m just happy that everything worked out and things are going back to n-“ Uzi stopped herself from finishing her sentence, guilt flooding on her visor.

V just rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to do this every time, aren’t you?” She asked, punching Uzi softly on her good shoulder. “Despite everything, it all worked out, right? Time to work to ‘the new normal’, right?”

Uzi giggled. “You sound like N.”

“Must be my medication.” V joked, making them both chuckle.

In the time that followed they fell into a relaxed conversation and if she was being honest with herself, she was grateful for the distraction. Despite all her talk about wanting to proof she was strong and that she would find a way to find closure on her situation …she’d been feeling miserable. She used to be such an independent Drone and now there was the possibility she’d never be able to do anything anymore without assistance. But she also didn’t want to just submit to these negative thoughts and feelings, because that wouldn’t do her any good. She was still processing everything and she had a feeling that would take a while. So she, for now, she gladly accepted the distraction and let Uzi drone on – no pun intended – about the changes that were happening in the Colony the last few weeks.

Once people finally started to believe that it was safe to venture outside, the first thing they did collect the fallen Drones that made up the corpse spires and give their processors a funeral. The rest of the bodies were either repurposed, recycled or scrapped for parts, which would sound weird for organic being, but for Drones was a traditional and sacred act. In the end, it would ensure that new Drone frames could be built for an eventual expansion of the Colony, now that the threat of the Disassembly Drones was over.

There was talk about reclaiming the Ruined City as their own and build something completely new. Something that wasn’t as cramped and packed as the Colony, but still provided the protection from the harsh climate of Copper-9.

People also seemed to warm up to N’s presence a lot easier than Uzi feared it would. N’s lovable goofball nature probably helped a lot, plus the fact that he was eager to help repair the damages that the latest near-end-times had caused. Uzi’s dad, much to her chagrin, had taken quite a liking to N, which meant he liked to barge in during the young couple’s alone time. It wouldn’t be so frustrating if N didn’t went along with it. She loved him, but jeez, he could be oblivious. Luckily, he was learning.

Uzi’s situation had improved. While Uzi and the rest of the ‘inner circle who knew’ decided that downplaying the situation would be better for the long run, it did have some rather unforeseen, yet positive consequences. Uzi was being heralded as the Drone that had made see the Disassembly Drones ‘see the error of their ways and turn against their genocidal masters’, and had a helped stop this threat despite the danger to her own life. Suddenly, people were lining up to thank her, invite her to parties and try to be friends with her.

“Wow, suddenly Miss Popular, huh?” V stated, grinning at Uzi’s embarrassed blush.

“Thing is, there used to be a time that I wouldn’t have liked anything else than that, but now….” Uzi chuckled sheepishly. “It’s not that I don’t like it, but it’s a bit much. It feels, like, …forced, or some jazz like that. Am I making sense?”

“Never.”

“Bite me.” Uzi stuck out her tongue, which V copied, making them both burst out in laughter. “Anyway, the only people who is actually feels genuine are Thad and-“

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Something in V’s chest buzzed when Lizzy peeked inside the room and smiled brightly as the latter noticed the former.

“It’s true…you’re finally awake.” Lizzy stated with a smile as she walked in. She gave Uzi a quick greeting. “Hi, Uzi. I, eh, left your homework at your place.”

“Thanks, Lizzy.” Uzi stood up from her chair and went over to give V a hug. “I’ll better get going.”

Lizzy suddenly looked flustered. “You don’t need to-“

“Nah, the two of you have some catching up to do, too.” Uzi said as she walked over to the door. She paused when she reached Lizzy and leaned over to whisper something in her ears. Lizzy, suddenly blushing, gave Uzi a playful push and whispered something back, which made the two girls giggle. With a final goodbye, Uzi made her way out of the room and let the two Drones alone in silence.

A few moments of silence passes, during which neither Drone seemed to know how to get the conversation started. Eventually, V started by clearing her throat. “So, uh …since when are you and Uzi so chummy?”

“Well, a lot happened. A lot changed.” Lizzy stated as she shuffled over to V’s bed, the latter noticing how meek and fidgety she seemed to act. “Let’s say that over the last few weeks, me and Uzi have gotten to know each other pretty well during our mutual visits here.”

V watched as Lizzy slowly made her way to the chair Uzi had occupied only seconds earlier, eventually slowly sitting down. Lizzie looked nervous, V noticed, the way her eyes darted around like she trying to figure out what she wanted to say first.

“Lizzy, are y-“

“I thought you were dead.”

V blinked a few times, staring at Lizzy, who had her eyes clenched shut while digital tear ran down her visor. “Liz, I-“

“When Uzi and N told me how you sacrificed yourself, I didn’t know what to think. How to feel.” Lizzy continued, not letting V get a word in. “I was …angry, proud, scared, sad and-and-and…and then suddenly, we get news that you were found, alive but non-responsive and I just felt so hopeless and mad, and I-”

V reached out and grabbed Lizzy’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Lizzy, calm down, you’re going to blow your voice box.”

Lizzy’s gaze dropped to her and V’s hands, fixated on them for a few moments. She looked up, tears still staining her visor. “It’s just …finding out your bestie might be …gone, it ….it hurt, V. It really hurt.”

“What do you want me to say?” V asked softly, rubbing her thumb over the back of Lizzy’s hand. “That I’m sorry?”

Lizzy shook her head. “No, Uzi and N told me why you did it. You saved them. You’re a hero. Just …don’t do that again. Ever.”

She took a deep breath and brought V’s hand to her cheek, leaning into the latter’s palm, smiling as V’s thumb caressed her cheek. “I’ve spend so many days on this very chair, just …talking to you about my day, asking you to wake up and trying to come up with what I would say once you woke up.” She let out a soft scoff. “I actually prepared a speech. I made a list of what I wanted to say. I practiced in front of the mirror. I was ready. And here I am …and I can’t come up with any of the things I wanted to say to you.”

V rubbed her thumb over Lizzy’s cheek, smirking. “This is why I prefer actions over words, so there can be no mistakes about my intentions.”

“You know what…” Lizzy stated as a playful smirk formed on her lips. “You’re absolutely right!”

Lizzy threw her arms around V and embraced her so tightly, the latter thought she was gonna snap in half. “Ugh, easy, Lizzy.” She laughed as she returned the hug. “I’m still healing. If you’re not careful, I- “

A kiss on her cheek made her stop dead in their tracks.

“I missed you so much, V.”

A kiss on the other cheek.

“And I am so happy that you’re awake, I feel like I’m gonna blow a fuse.”

Gentle hands take hold of trembling ones. A kiss on the palm of V’s hand makes her gasp softly as something tickles down her spine.

“And I know you are hurting, but I am here.” The other hand gets a kiss. “So are Uzi and N.” A giggle. “But mostly, me.”

Lizzy seems to have crawled almost on top of V without her noticing. V feels her core work overtime as two hands tenderly hold the sides of her head, her vision filled with Lizzy’s pink eyes gazing warmly and lovingly at her. V swallows down a lump as a trembling hand reaches up to Lizzy’s cheek.

“I thought you didn’t know what to say?” V asked, not really knowing what to say herself as she feels her mind numb down.

Lizzy leaned in closer to V’s face, the distance between their lips slowly growing smaller with every passing second. A soft giggle escapes her lips. “I improvised.”

Feeling suddenly emboldened, V started to lean in as well pulling herself and Lizzy closer to one another, until-

KNOCK, KNOCK!

Both girls squeaked in surprise when a knock on the door interrupted their moment, with Lizzy, her visor blushing brightly, quickly jumping from the bed and straightening out her clothes and fixed her hair. V cleared her throat – her blush rivaling the one that Lizzy was sporting. She quickly glanced over at Lizzy, who just nodded and tried to keep her voice as even as possible. “C-c’mon in!”

The door opened and Doctor Steen walked in, his eyes glued to a clipboard. “Miss V, I hope you’re feeling-“ His eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw Lizzy standing there. “Ah, Miss Casio, I thought that we would see you here today. How is our patient doing today?”

“A bit grumpy, like usual.” Lizzy stated nonchalantly. V was impressed with how casually Lizzy was acting, like their little tender moment didn’t happen – or wasn’t unfortunately interrupted.

“That checks out….” Steen muttered. “I’m sorry to ask this but could you leave the room, Miss Casio? I need to discuss some things with my patient.”

“But Lizzy just got here.” V stated, hoping that she didn’t sound too desperate to keep her …friend here. “Can’t you wait a –“

Lizzy grabbed V’s hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “It’s okay, V” She assured with a smile and a wink. “I’ll be back later and we …can pick up where we left up then, okay?”

V really hoped her blush lines weren’t that visible. “Okay.” When Lizzy planted a quick peck on her cheek, she really had to muster up all of her remaining willpower not to giggle. She couldn’t help but smile as Lizzy joyfully skipped out of the room, giving V a last look before she closed the door behind her.

“Well, someone is happy that her friend is awake.” Steen stated, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I swear, she must have been visiting more and longer than your two other friends. You’re lucky to have them.”

“I certainly am.” V mumbled, before shaking her head to bring herself back to reality. “So …what do you wanna discuss, doc?”

“Well, I was wondering if you had given some thought about the options going forward?” He stated.

V looked down at her legs; still unmoving, still unresponsive. She had given it some thought, but the uncertainty of it all scared her. Just the possibility that her only options could just not work made her uneasy. But …she realized that she couldn’t just wait for a miracle. Lizzy was right, her friends were there for her and they would lend a shoulder if things got rough. And she had a feeling that things would get very rough, very quickly.

V took a deep breath and looked her doctor in the eyes. “I have and …I have made a decision.” She gripped her bedsheets as a tingle ran down her spine. “I want to have the surgery.”

“Are you certain?” The doc asked. “It’s fine if you want some more time to-“

“No, I’m certain.” V stated, her eyes beaming with renewed steely determination. “I’ll do the surgery. I want you to replace my legs.”