#he's talking about even not watching. yes this just happened and yes i rewound and sure enough. he was talking about ana karina!!!

[zippers]

ugh i really hate this one volleyball commentator. he is announcing the game im watching (ukraine vs colombia) and he a) he is just so negative about all the plays and the players b) keeps singling out one of the Colombian players, Ana Karina, and while she isn't the only Black player she does have the darkest skin... it really feels like she has been targeted since the beginning. she is a heavy hitter who takes a lot of risks, sometimes they don't pay off but she is still one of the top scorers, but whenever she scores (and this is often over the replay of her epic point which just really makes it so jarring) he will say something like "earlier she was playing just foul volleyball, remember xyz failures, but here she actually scored, maybe she's finally woken up, but before she played very poorly, remember that?" and "i can't believe they managed to score a point despite that awful pass from Ana Karina" and just really focuses on her mistakes way more than the other players.

I feel like a different person would say something like "excellent comeback from a shaky start!" like her coach would have swapped her out by now if she was really that bad. And Colombia is losing where I'm at in the game but she is not the only one making errors but she is the one that is called out. Just the way he said her name when she was introduced made my uncomfortable, like i was only listening to the lineup but I noticed how he said it.

i already didnt like this guy, mostly bc of some faux pas that made me uncomfortable in other games that also had women commentators but on his own he is just so critical of these really impressive women, but especially singling out the player with the darkest skin always with something negative to say, and backhanded compliments if any!!

[yandereunsolved]

Hi 👋 I have a few technical questions for the self aware au for HOTD, if you wouldn’t mind me asking.

Does the world just… stop if we pause the tv? If I rewind a scene bc of whatever reason would that give then motion sickness? Back on pausing the show, does the world stop but the character don’t? Like if I paused the tv and started talking to someone about whatever, is Aemond crossing his arms and tapping his shoes while pouting? WOULD MUTING THEM ACTUALLY MAKE THEM MUTE??

Are the dragons jealous if we talk about dragons from other forms of media? I have loyalty to Paarthurnax for best dragon 😅 ooo what If we had a Skyrim tattoo? Imagine comparing lore?

And lastly, how would they react if we had started watching game of thrones? I like to try to rewatch stuff in chronological order if prequels or branching media gets made, I like to see the chain of events you know? Would the self awareness spread to more of that verse bc of that? Can we pull John Snow?

Sorry for the wall of text and rambling, I love LOVE self aware aus and love learning more about them

Let me retrieve my sacred lore scroll.

retrieves it.

For every rule I lay down here—they can be broken under one circumstance: if the character is completely self-aware. None of the characters I have written so far have gotten to that point. Complete self-awareness may drive any of them to insanity.

(1) Does the world stop if we pause the tv?

That version of the world stops. So that canon timeline is still there, but other things are happening off screen. They are subconsciously led back to the plot when the television is unpaused again.

(2) If I rewind a scene because of whatever reason—would that give then motion sickness?

It erases their memory and gives them a sense of deja vu. They prod inside of their mind but it's like a wall has been put up inside of their minds.

If the character is already predisposed to motion borne illnesses then they would get motion sickness.

Example. If Aegon II was incredibly drunk and you rewinded a part he was in it'd make him feel like he was going to throw up. However, he wouldn't actually throw up because he wasn't as drunk/or drunk at all (depending on how much your rewound) at that time.

(3) Would muting them actually make them mute?

Yes, it would. They would be talking in their world and wouldn't be able to understand how you aren't listening.

If they found out how to work the volume then you'd be screwed. Some may be able to do this unintentionally, while others would have to be more self-aware to unlock the ability.

Dreamers are more likely to be self-aware due to their inante abilities. So Helaena would it without even realizing it.

(4) Are the dragons jealous if we talk about dragons from other forms of media? —Imagine comparing lore.

Yes and no. It depends on the dragon's personality. If you were head over heels for another dragon in another form of media then any one of them would be jealous. If you just enjoy the dragons in that verse then some of them are okay with it.

Example(s). Vhagar would be okay with you liking other dragons as long as you liked her the most. Vermithor goes into a rage anytime you so much as mention another dragon in a positive context.

(5) How would they react if we had started watching game of thrones?

Confused at first. Since hotd is the prequel to got they'd be very puzzled. Then they'd be curious. If it took up all of your time then they'd be angry. There would already be an undercurrent of jealousy, but there's also a superiority complex there.

"We were here before them."

"Without us they wouldn't exist."

Them meaning got characters.

(6) Would the self awareness spread to more of that verse because of that?

When consuming any form of their media it is like a portal is being opened up into their world. That's the crux of what helps them become self aware. There's usually a moment in their lives that spurs that on.

With the hotd characters already being insanely jealous that interference between the two media's would cause the self awareness to spread.

(7) The most important question—Can we pull Jon Snow?

Yes.

The shit that dude has been through? He has plenty of opportunities to become self aware. Having someone there for him, even passively, would cause him to become obsessive. Possibly a bit bitter because you aren't helping him until he realizes that you are physically unable to.

Don't 👏 be 👏 sorry. 👏 I love giving lore.

[icycoldninja]

Hi there! I would just like to thank you for doing my Lies of P request, I absolutely loved it! Thank you again and keep up the good work! 😘 I hope your requests are open. Anyhow, I am back again with another platonic headcannon request with the Sparda boys and V meet with a fem! Reader that is like Sophia from Lies of P (yes I am obssesed with the game, pls help)

Let's say the male reader from my first Lies of P request (Or P) introduced fem!reader and she is absolutely lovely, I mean, think about how the most caring mother would act and you would be pretty close how the fem!reader (or Sophia) acts. (And she really pretty. I mean, look at her)

She helps around as much as she can, but usually stays back from the combat, prefering to stay away and watch, rarely getting into fights. But then, maybe the male!reader is outnumbered and dies. Then fem!reader shows what she can do. She rewound time before the male!reader died. (I know since "rewinding time" other people wouldn't know she did that, but I feel like the boys would just habe a feeling of deja vu like they were here before.) And they ask male!reader if they were here (who is still in his silent past self) so they got no answers from him. But when questioning the fem!reader, she told them she rewound time and then she explained she actually had powers, mainly to talk to puppets, give people strength and the main part, rewinding time when the male!reader dies. (They still think the male reader is human)

Let's say some time passes, and lets say the fem!reader really grew on the boys. Until the faithful day when the male!reader got stabbed and left. (You know the rest) and for some odd reason the fem!reader disappeared a few weeks after the male!reader.

A lot of time passed (Let's say months since I still have no fucking idea how long the game is in it's time.) The male!reader returned but not fem!reader. And now, granted the power of speech, the male!reader explained what happened to her.

Alchemists (basically some crazy ass scientists) discovered the fem!reader had powers and took her away, while the male!reader was off to somehow gain more humanity (by lying) he found out what happened to to her and tried his best to find her, but when he found her, it was too late the alchemists already broke her.

(Her death broke me) in her final moments that were filled with pain, she asked the male!reader if he could kill her and take her egro since she waa in too much pain (basically egro is like sort of magic soul thingy every human in the game had.) And that she wanted to somewhat "be" with him always. He somberly accepted, ending her nightmare and collecting her egro and the magic she had, giving him finally some shred of humanity he yearned for. How would the boys react to this?

Btw, I am so fucking mad Spotify removed Devil Trigger and Bury the light off their app.

Anyways, I hope you have a good day and that you eat and drink and sleep well. Bye! ❤️

Lol no problem, I can see why you're obsessed, it looks fun. P is lowkey adorable and honestly looks like a mini-V. Enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Sophia-like!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante didn't expect his little buddy P to bring back a girl, thinking said girl was P's girlfriend or something.

-He was so happy when he found out you were single because you had to have been one of the prettiest ladies he'd ever met. Your mannerisms and sweetness made him think you'd be excellent wife material.

-When P got stabbed and then ran off to do his thing, Dante was dismayed to discover you had left a little while after as well, though whether or not you left with him remained to be seen.

-He searched high and low for you for many, many months, but he didn't find you until P came back to inform him that some crazy scientists possibly Hojo's relatives had taken you away to extract your powers.

-Together, the boys went to find you, but when they got there, it was too late. The alchemists had taken everything from you, even most of your body. You were alive, but just barely. It was a miserable existence, so you begged P to take your life force and just end everything already. P wasn't too happy to do this, but it had to be done, so he did.

-Dante was never the same. Every day he'd find himself wandering around aimlessly, staring up at the sky and wondering if you were still watching over him, or if you'd gone to heaven. Maybe you'd have met his mother. Whenever he sees a blue butterfly, Dante can't help but cry because it reminds him of you, and all that he's lost.

■ Vergil ■

-Upon being introduced to you, Vergil found you to be the sweetest, kindest girl he'd ever met.

-He resonated with you, since both of you have this natural parental nature that makes you seem like sage advice givers.

-When P got stabbed and dissappeared, he never thought you would leave a few weeks after. He was hurt that you would just abandon him like that without saying anything, even if you were in a hurry to locate P.

-Vergil searched for you, eventually running into a returning, more human-like P, who told him of the alchemists that had taken you away.

-The guys hurried to find you, but when they arrived, you'd already been stripped of most of your powers, barely clinging onto life. You pleaded with P to take the last of your ergo and release you from your suffering, which he did, somberly.

-Vergil was sure he'd lost the only person in the world who truly understood him for good, and despite all his MOTIVATION, he still managed to fall into depression. He keeps a terrarium of blue butterflies by his bedside at all times, using it to remind himself of the love of his life.

□ Nero □

-Nero didn't expect to be introduced to such a lovely lady by his buddy P, but he wasn't going to refuse.

-You were so nice! It was such a refreshing change of pace to know someone who wasn't crazy, stupid, a deadbeat, or a mixture of the three.

-He was absolutely heartbroken when you ran off after P left. He expected this from the kid, but not from you! He thought you would have enough sense to stay with him so you could look for P together.

-Angry, confused, and scared all at the same time, Nero looked for you and P, running into the latter a little later, who told him of your horrible fate.

-Nero knew that it was hopeless, but he ran to find you anyway. He honestly shouldn't have been surprised by what he saw, yet it still destroyed him to see you like that.

-After P took your ergo and released you from ultimate misery, Nero spent a long time in solitude, just wandering around, talking to butterflies and mourning your loss.

● V ●

-V fell in love with you on first sight. You were the tender, loving, beautiful soul he never knew he needed in his life.

-Both of you sit on the sidelines during fights, but if P is ever gravely wounded in battle, you rewind time for him, which is a disorienting experience, but it's not that bad.

-Was absolutely crushed when you disappeared after P got stabbed. Now is the time when he needs you the most! V went looking for you, but he just didn't have the stamina to keep searching for long.

-P came back, eventually, with grave news. You'd been taken by alchemists who wanted to steal all your powers, and if they didn't hurry and find you soon, it might be too late.

-Unfortunately, it was, for by the time they found you, most of your ergo had already been drained, and what was left was hardly enough to keep you alive for a few more minutes. You begged P to just end it already, much to V's dismay.

-After that, V depended on P more than ever. His darling was gone, and if he didn't have a shoulder to lean on, he might as well die of grief. He may move on, someday, but that day is far, far off in the future.

[jjkeremika]

Express Divine Devotion

description: eremika moments over the years

inspiration: photo above: (“jane austen’s ‘if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more’ plus sylvia plath’s ‘it seems i can only write you letters that i can never send’ plus lana del rey’s ‘there’s things i wanna say to you but ill just let you live’)

pairing: eren jaeger x mikasa ackerman, eremika (Aot/Snk)

**before they lived together as kids**

Carla stared out the window with an adoring smile on her face as she washed dishes, watching Eren and his new friends Armin and Mikasa play with fallen branches.

Grisha appeared behind her, placing his hands delicately on her hips, which startled her, causing her to jump a little.

He chuckled, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” and pressed multiple soft kisses to her cheek.

Her smile returned and she turned her head, kissing her husband. Grisha pulled her closer with one arm around her waist, using his other hand to shut the faucet off, then cupped her cheek to attend to the kiss.

Eren, Armin, and Mikasa stood in a half-circle, watching Eren’s parents kiss through the window.

“Ha-have you guys ever k-kissed anyone?” Armin asked in a small voice, his head tilted to the side but his eyes were still fixed on Carla and Grisha, his fingers playing with each other.

“My mum kisses me a lot,” Eren answered with crossed arms, furling his face like he was grossed out, “and pinches my cheek…” He lightly touched his palm to his cheek.

“That… That’s not what I meant,” Armin returned softly, looking down to his feet, “It doesn’t matter; it’s silly.”

“Why do you ask, Armin?” Mikasa spoke quietly yet she always commanded their attention. Eren stared at the loose scarf around her neck.

His cheeks blushed and he dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt, keeping his eyes low. “Curiosity,” he practically whispered it, avoiding Eren and Mikasa.

“Kids, come inside! It’s getting dark!” Grisha called from the back doorway, staying in the doorway even as they made their way back.

About halfway back to the house, Eren grabbed Mikasa’s wrist and pulled her arm, dragging her to a stop. “Ere—”

His other hand started undoing the scarf halfway, then rewound it around her, letting the extra drape around her shoulder.

“Was bothering me,” he answered her unasked question with a light blush, and started dragging her along with the grip still tight on her wrist, “Let’s go eat dinner.”

**during the year they lived together as kids**

Eren was still awake when Mikasa jolted upright from her makeshift bed on the floor—the frame still in wood planks outside. She was breathing rapidly, and her hair was messy from having rolled around.

They made eye contact, Mikasa’s wide scared eyes connecting with Eren’s surprised gaze, and she softly apologized. Then she laid back down and rolled to the side, clutching the sheet a little more tightly.

“Are… Are you okay?” he whispered cautiously, sitting up from his bed, trying to peer at her through the dark.

He heard her sniffle. “Yes,” she answered quietly, sniffling again, “just a nightmare.”

Eren slipped out from his sheets and crossed the room to her bed, sitting down cross-legged. “When I have a nightmare, one of my parents will lie with me. I can go get one of them if—”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t wake them up,” she replied softly. There was a pause followed by a sniffle.

“I’ll do it,” Eren stated factually, moving and situating himself next to her, “and you can’t complain because i’m already awake.”

She blushed softly at the notion, at her friend’s comfort. It felt lonely at night, laying in a faux bed in a different house, her dreams and memories reminding her of the horrific events, haunting her at her loneliest hour.

Yet here’s the same savior, the same protection.

He placed his arm around her and let her cautiously settle in. “It’s okay,” he comforted, “nothing can happen to you when I’m with you.”

**second night after colossal/armor attack**

“Eren! Armin!” Mikasa called from across the shelter room, waving her arm for them to locate her. Armin spotted her first and grabbed Eren’s attention, waving back and heading over.

Armin hugged her when they reunited for the night, squeezing her a little tighter than he used to. She turned to Eren when Armin let go, whose arms were crossed and eyes were dull.

Mikasa reached out, barely grabbed his hand, held it lightly between her palms. “Eren…”

He met her gaze, the color the darkest she’d ever seen, tears held onto the waterlines. “I’ll be okay,” he croaked, like he’d lost his voice from shouting for answers, from crying, “you know… I was thinking…”

Mikasa tilted her head to the side curiously, his hand still between hers. “I told you nothing would happen when we’re together… and… I…” He swallowed tightly, his free hand clenching into an even tighter fist. Mikasa could feel his other hand start to shake. “I couldn’t do anything.”

“We’re alive, Eren,” she quickly responded to soothe his visible pain, to ease the load and carry the burden with him, “Healthy and alive and together. As long as we’re both alive…” She held his hand a little closer, soothed the shaking. “That’s good enough for me.”

**first year as cadets**

Eren watched Mikasa and Reiner spar in preparation for the hand combat exam. From first glance, onlookers would expect that tall and muscular Reiner would easily win; when in reality, Reiner worked twice as hard to dodge the fast and powerful Mikasa, to figure out where she’s going to strike next.

He was watching her form, looking at the way her arms were positioned in her offense, when he noticed the buttons on her shirt starting to pull. Her shirt was too small now that she’d grown from training.

“Reiner!” Eren shouted, which caused the boy to turn around and fail to avoid Mikasa’s punch, knocking him to the ground from the surprise attack.

“Eren!” Reiner shouted angrily from the ground, slamming his fist against the hard dirt, “This is your fault!”

Eren ran over to Mikasa, holding her jacket in his hand, stepping over Reiner. “Mikasa, come with me,” he suggested, putting her jacket over her shoulders and starting towards the dorms.

“Is something wrong?” she asked when they finally were inside, nobody else visibile.

Eren dug through the wooden drawers under his bed for a larger buttoned shirt. “Your shirt is too small. It’ll restrict your movement,” he stated, standing back up with multiple white shirts in his hand, “That could be dangerous in a dire situation.” He held up the shirts.

She hesitantly took them from him. “Don’t… Don’t you need these too?”

He shrugged and blushed lightly. “I have plenty… And I’ll give you more if you need them.”

**day of regiment selection**

“Eren?”

Eren heard her calling his name, but stayed silent as he sat on a rock near the lake. He couldn’t bring himself to speak without memories and tears flooding in. “Eren?”

Mikasa asked again before emerging from the woods to the left of him, spotting him almost immediately. “Eren!” she shouted again as she ran over, collapsing to her knees in front of him.

He looked at her, at the growing morning light reflecting on her skin. He was cold from having forgotten a jacket, but her arrival made him warm.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking up at him with anxious, caring eyes, “I noticed you weren’t in your bed for a while. I thought maybe you’d gone for a walk, so…”

“Thank you for coming here,” he uttered quietly, leaning back and spreading his legs wider.

She smiled more to herself and moved to sit next to him. Mikasa said nothing, just enjoyed his presence.

“Mikasa, you should join the military police,” he spoke strongly, with more weight behind his words than he weighed, “you shouldn’t be in the scouts.”

Mikasa nodded along with his words, angling her head slightly so she could see him better. “Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you?” she asked again, staring at him directly this time. The eye contact sent a chill down Eren’s spine, and he smiled at the way she wore the moonlight. “Joining the military police?”

He dropped the eye contact and stared ahead at the lake, leaning his elbows into his thighs.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” He sounded exhausted, determined yet already beaten down by weary trainings. “I have to see the rest of the world. I have to avenge mum. You should—”

“Be with you,” Mikasa interrupted, finishing his sentence for him. He sighed, but she spoke before he could, “You told me everything would be okay as long as we’re together.”

She waited for a reply that never came.

“If you join the military police, I will too. If you join Scouts, then I’m joining too. I… I can’t lose anymore family.”

**first week as scouts**

Eren sat on his assigned bed, near the pillow, watching as Mikasa folded his and her clothes into separate piles at the other end. Armin, Sasha, and Christa sat on their beds around them.

“I heard we’re going on our first expedition soon! Isn’t that exciting?” Christa exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Sasha pulled a chicken drumstick from inside her jacket sleeve. “Celebratory bite!” Sasha shouted, then took a large bite of the meat.

Armin stared at Sasha in awe. “The statistics on returning aren’t… promising,” he added lowly, sadly, “we really shouldn’t get so excited that we become reckless.”

“We will be inside the walls still, so at least we’ll be able to use our gear,” Christa returned, trying to remain optimistic for the upcoming horror.

“But—”

“It’s what we trained for,” Eren interrupted, glaring at the folded clothes, “it’s our duty as soldiers. It’s what we’re dedicating our heart to. It’s—”

Jean scoffed and the door slammed behind him, “He’s on one of his rants again?”

“Shut up, Jean,” Eren muttered, looking down at his clenched fists. He watched Jean walk behind Mikasa, watched and clenched his fist a little tighter when Jean sniffed her hair.

When Mikasa finished folding the clothes, she sat next to Eren on the bed, inspecting the scratches on his arms he’d acquired from failing the balance tests.

Eren smiled at the warm tickle under her touch, a lingering familiarity that settled deeply in his brain. He wished he could ask his mum about the feeling.

“You should be all set,” she said and smiled, “I think you’ll be able to do it tomorrow.”

**mikasa gets sent on a dangerous mission**

“Jean, Reiner, Connie: you three will be responsible as outer watch,” Erwin dictated, pointing with a stick to the squad formation for this next mission, “Bertoldt and Armin will make up the rear guard.”

Hange stepped forward. “Since our primary goals are to capture titans and avoid causalities,” they started, glancing around the thinning Scout regiment, “Mikasa, you’ll be our sole bait. Levi will render it immobile and the rest of my squad will capture it.”

Mikasa nodded affirmatively. Eren stared at her with his eyes wide and mouth agape, moving to look at Armin, whose face had fallen solemnly.

“What about me?” Eren stood up abruptly, eyebrows furrowed in thought and alternating his gaze between Hange, Levi, and Erwin, “I can lure them too. They love my titan form, and I can atta—”

About half the rook rolled their eyes or slumped in their chair at his outburst. “Sit down,” Levi commanded, glaring at Eren, “We’ll speak later.”

The meeting concluded and everyone but Eren and Levi filed out of the room. Levi walked up to him, slapped his fist against Eren’s chest, ordered, “You’ll be cleaning the barracks,” in a huff and exited the room.

“What’s wrong, Eren?” Armin asked when they were at the dining hall later, just the two of them. Other soldiers from various regiments sat at the surrounding tables, and while Eren occasionally received whispers and glances and glares, they paid them no mind.

Eren sighed in frustration, a hearty breath disturbing the soup, and slumped slightly. “I’m irritated I’m not on the mission,” he answered, clenching a fist near his thigh, “again.”

“It’s for the best,” Armin urged, “We can’t have our best weapon being used as bait. And we can’t risk anything happening to you if it’s not absolutely necessary.”

Eren groaned, “So I have to clean instead?”

They both turned their heads at Connie’s loud laughter. “Haha! So that’s what Captain has you doing instead?”

Jean snickered, “Heh, a nice, clean place to return to after our heroic, dangerous miss—”

“Fuck you,” Eren spat, ignoring Jean’s beady eye contact, swatting at the air like there was a bug.

Mikasa sat next to Armin, across from Eren, and he spent most of the rest of the conversation wondering what to say to her, if he should say anything at all. If this were to be the last dinner together, then…

They all had left the dining hall together, heading back to the Scout barracks early to prepare for the big voyage tomorrow. Eren fell out of pace, fell to the back of the group.

“Uh, Mikasa,” Eren expressed shyly, stepping back and turning to the side to imply that he wanted her to follow him elsewhere.

She turned around, silently understanding and nodding, heading off with him without another word to the group.

She obediently followed him to a small clearing between a few trees, granted invisibility from the rest by shadows and dusk.

“I,” Eren started hesitantly, regretting having not thought of what to say beforehand, his hand fisted, “I’m not going on the mission, so…”

Mikasa stared at him quietly as he trailed off, willing to wait all night if he needed the time.

“So…” He met her gaze, tears threatening to line both of their eyes. He swallowed, raising his hand to take hers. “Please come home.”

**after discovery of the ocean**

The younger scouts all snuck away from camp one night, running off with the new map in the direction of the tiny rocks and wet sky.

Mikasa and Eren watched from the beach as everyone else discarded shoes and clothing and ran into the water, crying joyfully and screaming vibrantly—a welcome contrast to the past.

The moon was almost near the center of the sky when Eren stood up and offered a hand to Mikasa. “Should we…” He stared off at the ocean, smiling peacefully as he stared at the glistening landscape, at the stars in the sky.

He looked back at her when she placed her hand in his and stood up, smiling. Neither of them moved.

“Do you remember,” he started softly, so quietly that Mikasa’s ears tuned out all background noise just to focus on his voice. Tears lined his eyes and he choked on the lump in his throat, “when my mum would kiss us goodbye?”

A tear slid down his cheek at the mention of Carla, of a fond memory of her instead of…

Mikasa’s free hand twitched like it threatened to wipe the droplet away. Eren let it slide to his jaw.

“Remember when… my dad would come home,” he took a shaky breath, “and my mum would kiss him too?”

She nodded, still fighting back the tears. The pink blush on Eren’s face was making Mikasa blush too.

He smiled. “I used to wonder which way I was supposed to…” His blush deepened slightly as he paused briefly before coyly continuing, “…kiss you, but… I think I…”

“Hey, you two! Get your sorry asses over here!” The voice sent shivers down their spines and their hands dropped. They looked over at the source to find Levi and a few more soldiers standing angrily. “Where’s everyone else?”

**during Paradis-Country negotiations**

Unearthing the Founder’s powers came at a heavy mental and physical toll, and sometimes Eren refused to leave his room. Which wasn’t always a solution, because being alone meant exploring his mind, exploring memories and futures that he couldn’t place, of people he couldn’t name.

“Eren, how are you feeling?” Mikasa asked softly through the door after knocking. “I brought you some soup. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind the company for the day.”

Eren debated not opening the door, but he determined her company was better than anyone else’s, his own included. He opened the door and walked away, right back to bed.

Mikasa entered and closed the door, placed the food on the table, and followed him to his bed. She sighed when she saw the morose sight of Eren collapsed in bed, the blankets pulled over his head.

Mikasa sat at the foot of the bed, her hands in her lap. “Eren?” she asked, and she saw him shuffling under the blankets in response, “Remember when I used to have those nightmares?”

His head poked out near the pillow. “Yes,” he answered, nodding simultaneously.

“Are you having nightmares now, Eren?” she asked as a follow-up, shifting closer to the top of the bed.

He paused. “Yes,” he answered again, nodding only once, and looked up at her.

There was no need to speak any further. They shared a short, knowing look, the type of telepathic conversation that comes from collected experience and shared loss.

Mikasa sat upright and Eren moved the blanket, shifting over slightly to provide a clear space for Mikasa to lay. She did, and she delicately draped her arm around Eren’s shoulders, letting his head rest between her shoulder and breast.

He settled into her side, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her ever so closer, snuggling ever so deeper into her neck. Her scent and touch were so familiar, calming.

“It’ll be okay, Eren,” she whispered into his hair, using her hand to move a couple strands, “nothing can happen to us when we’re together.”

**during their visit to Marley**

Eren stared at her mouth while she licked at the ice cream cone, unable to take his eyes off her lips. A little stream of melted cream started to melt down her chin and he immediately reached his thumb out, wiping it away.

Mikasa blushed, avoiding Eren’s gaze. But he kept his hand on her jaw.

“You should try some,” she offered to change the subject, to remove his hot attention from her, and tilted the cone towards him.

“Okay,” he mumbled without moving, without taking his palm away. Instead, he rested it further on her jaw, cupping her cheek lightly and leaning down.

It was light. Barely even a light tap. The kiss felt like a buoyant feather floating in water, a tingling sensation remaining on excited nerves, cells reaching out for more. As fast as his lips had tapped hers, he’d pulled away.

“I don’t think I taste it,” Eren whispered, staring at her shiny eyes and red cheeks and pink lips.

Mikasa airily gasped. “Ma-maybe we should try again. For longer this time, so that you can really—”

**first reunion in Marley after eren left**

“Mikasa…” Eren gasped when he saw her, the woman he’d been dreaming of since he’d left, the woman he desperately wanted to return home to.

She stood in front of him, the black uniform suiting her frame so nicely. His heart beat faster than it had in a long time, and he lamented his haggard appearance before her.

She looked the same as in his dreams—better, even. The moon kissed her so beautifully, and he thought back to the last time they were together in Marley; his heart beating faster.

He wondered if he opened his arms if she’d embrace him back, the way he so heavily craved these lost years.

“Eren!” His name came out of her mouth in a half-sob, and she ran to him, practically jumping onto him. She held him close, and he reciprocated, holding her tighter than he’d ever held anyone, the way he’d relished in paths. She mumbled against his chest, her tears dampening his shirt. “Please come home.”

**at the cabin in paths**

A white cat rubbed against Mikasa’s swollen ankle as she sat back in the chair, whistling and rubbing her growing belly as she watched her husband chop wood out the window.

Mikasa sighed and picked up the cat, who purred loudly and snuggled his head into her belly. She smiled in adoration and let the cat settle on her lap.

She must’ve fallen asleep because she woke up with Eren knelt in front of her, his hand caressing her thigh.

“Nice nap, my loves?” he asked tenderly, glancing down at her belly before returning her gaze.

She blushed and smiled, rubbing her hands up and down her sides. “Yes, I think so. Woodchopping okay?” Mikasa placed one hand over Eren’s on her thigh.

He started the stand up, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Yes, we should have plenty for a while. I found a waterfall, though. Maybe we should take a trip when,” he placed a hand protectively over the baby bump, “he’s out.” He winked. “Make another.”

Mikasa giggled and blushed, initially pushing his hands away in shyness before pulling them back. She nodded.

He helped her stand up, placed a hand on her lower back as the other held hers. He let his hand rest on her lower back and brought his other one to the long strands of hair near her face.

“You don’t have to help me, you know,” she urged for the hundredth time, “I’m pregnant, not incapable.”

“I know,” Eren responded, smiling, “but I like to.” She blushed, kissed him, then walked by to grab water.

Eren stared at her as she walked away, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he watched his pregnant wife move around their house. He smiled in the knowledge that, at least here, she was his to tend to, his to care for.

His to love.

[bronx-bomber87]

Good Evening and Happy Tuesday. Ahhh we’ve reached glorious s4 aka the season where Tim and Lucy emotionally date each other while they’re in relationships without realizing it LOL The amount of emotional intimacy we get in this season is unreal. We get more growth for them both personally and professionally. Also the insane amount of work flirts is crazy but amazing. I love this season so much. Let’s get going with the premiere.

4x01 Life and Death

When we last left our gang Angela was abducted from her wedding. We start the ep out with an intense OP in progress. Tim asking Wade if they have permission to enter? Grey has a flashback to Angela’s original disappearance before he answers. We hear Lucy saying Jackson is gone along with Angela. We end up in Grey’s office with a gruesome video of their abduction.

We watch as Angela is loaded into a van and Jackson is taken as well. It’s then we see Jackson fight back but he is shot and killed immediately. Loaded into the trunk like cargo. It's horrifying to witness tbh. Watching everyone’s reactions is crushing. They’re all in shock at what they’ve just seen. Can’t believe it’s happened. Lucy’s kills me the most. Harper and Tim are shell shocked. Nolan is a statue. Grey looking as devastated as I’ve ever seen him.

What was supposed to be this momentous and happy occasion is anything but. Lucy just lost her best friend in the blink of an eye. Hurts to watch. All of them are stunned into silence. I remember watching the premiere thinking no way they just killed Jackson right? He must be ok....Just wounded..... Unfortunately that is not the case. We lose him to La Fiera’s senseless violence. I rewound the scene to make sure. I was so stunned I couldn't grasp it. Ugh. It's such a heartbreaking way to start the season off.

Grey comes back to the present and confirms Jackson been killed when replying to the Tactical Leader. The leader saying they need more time before they breach. Grey lets him know been 3 hours since Jackson was killed and Angela was taken. He wants his people to go in he can't wait. Tells Tim and the others to breach now. They’re searching the warehouse where they tracked the car that took her. They make it inside and see the car is empty. Lopez’s wedding dress on the ground.

Lucy goes to grab it when Nolan stops her. Says there’s a trip wire and it leads or C4 under the car. They head back out and request the bomb squad. Saying they can’t track the next vehicle till the scene is clear. As they’re leaving Nolan spots the dirt road outside it. Actually has useful information for once saying they took a plane not a car….

We return to Lucy with Nolan at the station. She’s currently beating herself up for not catching that trip wire. You just lost your best friend love. It’s ok to be a little unfocused. Lucy is breaking my damn heart. Anytime she cries it just hurts to watch. Melissa crushing it over here. The way she loses it over talking about Jackson hurts my soul. She’s wearing her medal he gave her too. Killing me softly with the details. I want to hug her but Tim will cover that for me shortly.

She asks if Nolan if he really thinks Lopez is alive? He says yes. Harper and Tim enter asking why he thinks that? They all start theorizing why she took Angela and where. Tim tells them they have to look at it with cop eyes not personal ones. Lucy brings up the baby. How they bonded over motherhood. That psychologically she could see how Angela betrayed that bond when Diego died. The best revenge would be to take her baby..So dark and twisted.

Grey comes in and tells them the DEA isn’t going to help them due to politics. That being the short answer. Really just red tape BS. Their main focus is finding Jackson’s killer which will hopefully give them a beat on Angela. They figure out Jackson scratched his killer as his final act. Knew he was going to die so he took his DNA with him. They’re rushing results to find out who and that he’s hopefully in the system. He went out like a bad ass doing that gotta say.

Grey tells them all to get some rest if they can. I love her letting Nolan pass by her first. Hanging back for Tim. Needing to show her deepest vulnerabilities with him only. Craving his comfort and a deeper convo with her person. Her and Nolan had a surface talk earlier. What she needs is so much more than that right now. So she naturally turns to Tim. Waits for them to be alone before spilling her emotional guts completely.

First off let me say I love the height difference shot here. Feel like we haven’t had a significant one in a hot minute. I’ll always love the tall/smol between them. Gives me ship tinglies in a way I can not put into words. Hehe Also what seems like intentional distance between them during this scene. Because we know what’s coming in their next one. Zero space between them.

Lucy confiding in Tim how she can’t go back to her apt right now. To his empty room...it’s far too much for her at the moment. Tim instantly offers up his place to her. Saying she shouldn’t have to. No hesitation whatsoever offering up solace with him. That part of himself he can’t explain with her taking the wheel in this moment. All he knows is she’s hurting and he wants to help her hurt less. It’s an innate reaction of his to protect her emotionally. Even when he doesn’t understand it. It’s that instinct that drives this decision.

Lucy being Lucy doesn’t want to impose on him. Even when she’s intensely grieving she’s thinking of others. Thing is she is anything but an imposition to Tim. Never has been never will be. He reinforces his offer telling her she shouldn’t be alone right now. Tim isn't taking no for an answer. He see's she is hurting and vulnerable so he wants to protect that. Protect her.

No way he was he going to relax or get sleep of any kind knowing how upset she was. Lucy caves and accepts his sweet offer. Too tired and emotionally drained to fight him any further on it. Tells him Thanks and Tim is brief in his reply. 'Yeah.' Just wanting to get her out of the station to decompress. Get her away from anything that will remind her of Jackson right now.

Next is the moment that is burned into all of our memories. So many facets of this moment to dissect. It’s glorious. Tim being chivalrous takes the couch. Or tries to at least. Lucy won’t allow it at all. Tim says he can’t let a guest sleep on the couch. They battle a little and Lucy wins. (Cause Wifey usually wins ha) Tim gets up and you can tell he wants to do more for her. Erase her pain or comfort her more. He just isn't sure how...

He asks her if she needs anything? Lucy almost replicating her reply in 2x12 about time travel. Tim once again wishing he had the ability to reverse time for her. If he could engineer a time machine just to take her hurt away it would be built already. No doubt in my mind he would move heaven and earth to make that happen. Instead he replies he unfortunately doesn’t have that power. So Lucy asks for something he most definitely can give. A hug. Love her being this vulnerable and asking him for what she really needs.

Then comes this beautifully intimate hug. It’s the way he pulls her in as she’s falling apart. She is clinging to Tim like he’s the only thing that will keep her together. (Good shot of that ring too..pretty sure that’s intentional) How she folds into arms effortlessly and buries herself in his chest. Like she was always meant to fit there. A puzzle piece fitting perfectly into place.

How gently he cradles her head. So delicate with his hand. It's so tender and affectionate. Encasing her in his arms fully. Space is not a word they know in this moment. It's like he’s trying to shield her from her pain by enveloping her completely. Strokes her hair in a very intimate manner. While she is clinging to him for dear life. Their chemistry is explosive in just the hug alone. I'm getting overwhelmed with feels just writing about this. The way he pulls away is very telling. It’s not just an instant break from their hug.

Tim lingers in his proximity to her. You can see it in the 4th gif above. Running his hands down her arms very slowly. Like he’s trying to extend his time touching her. Waiting to the very last inch to let go. Even when he runs out of real estate he gives her a little affectionate squeeze. Lucy isn’t adding to their distance either. Her head still very close to his chest when they part ways from this hug. She looks like she isn't ready for it to end. Her body still instinctively leaning toward his.

Tim still hasn’t stopped touching her yet. Look at that first gif. He’s still rubbing her other arm as he gazes down at her. The vulnerable way Lucy is looking up at him. *oh my lord* Still leaning into his touch. Into him. The intense shared glances they have here is electric. Lightning in a bottle chemistry goodness is what this is. I remember first time I watched this I felt like my skin was tingling with excitement. Couldn’t believe they were staring at each other like this. How they looked liked they could possibly kiss. I held my breath.

It’s that magnetic pull of theirs. They’re drawn to one another in general. This is the first time they’ve been this close to each other. Probably since the 2x11 moment where he cradled her. But this is much much different. Tim is the one to break it off before they lean into each other any further. I think he knows what will happen if he doesn’t stop this. Tim being the honorable man he is won’t take advantage of her in this state.

I also think this is Tim's ‘Uh Oh’ moment with Lucy. Man isn’t aware of his feelings just yet (ain’t even close to being ready for that) but he is VERY aware of his attraction in this moment. He can't fight the fact he is attracted to Lucy anymore. That much is obvious with this entire hug and his touches. He just showed his hand to her. One he had so tightly guarded to his chest for so long. So he cuts it off before it can develop into something more. Is the one with more self control by telling her good night. Lucy's face after he’s walked away looks like she just had an epiphany. Like ‘Oh shit I’m in love with Tim Bradford..’ Melissa’s face says it all for me.

It falls in line with the she fell first he fell harder scenario. It’s then we see them both trying to come down from their emotional high. The adrenaline of being that close to one another. What almost happened. This moment reminds me of one of my all time fav Caskett moments. Castle watches Beckett go to her hotel room after a similar almost kissed moment. He stares at the closed door and you see Beckett fighting with herself on the other side. Debating to open the door. By the time she gets the guts to open it Castle is long gone into his room.

The way they both stare in the others direction with intense longing. *heart damn clutch* Tim can’t get settled and neither can Lucy. Both trying to process the intense moment they just had. She looks like she’s having an internal battle with herself above. We say Lucy breaks Tim brain a lot and she does. But in this moment Tim has broken her's and she is having an internal struggle after they part.

Now Lucy is the one who decides to go for it. Can’t take sitting in her thoughts any longer. Stares at his bedroom door and gets up. She instantly retreats when she hears him come back into the room. Scurrying back to the couch so Tim doesn’t know what her plans were. Tim telling her Wesley knows where Angela is. The mood shifting completely.

Makes you wonder what her plans were had Tim not gotten that call. Was she going to knock on his door? Just give him a look and they would give into their emotions? I mean she must’ve had a plan of some sort. Possibly relying on that silent communication of theirs to say everything for her? The UST in this moment is off the charts. It’s the first time either of them are truly aware of the sexual tension between them. It really hit Lucy hard with her wanting to act on it.

I’ll always be happy with the way they got together. I adore the canon version. Them getting together in this moment would’ve been very messy. But I adore the tease we got to start the season for them. Was a very promising sign. I remember thinking damn this season gonna be amazing. It felt like it was their pre-get together season. And it was exactly that. Also I'll never be over the fact she’s in his clothes and wearing them damn well might I add. I am dead this scene so so good haha

Everyone arrives at Tim’s place for next steps. Also is no one going to question why Lucy is already there? No? ok...LOL This is totally normal. What I love most about this next section is how in-sync they are. Just a matching power couple in black. Also cross armed Tim mmm my fav. Sexy forearm time look at those puppies. Mm love to lick those like a lollipop. Yum. Also the intense amount of heart eyes Lucy is throwing him in this scene. Girl you have an audience put those away LMAO Clearly has not come down from her hug high. If Tim looked her way in that moment he would've been speechless with their intensity.

Wesley is telling them Angela is at a compound in Guatemala. That he’s going to get her back but he needs some help. Everyone jumps in and Grey stops them. Saying only people truly qualified for this is Harper and Tim. (Why Nolan gets to be apart of their OP based on that logic idk LOL) Nolan does bring up the good point about Max from 2x14. The counterfeiting case they had where they let his team go in exchange for their killer.

Tim explaining to Grey his unit runs covert operations all over the world. He could get them in undetected. He owes them for not putting his sins on blast. He would give them tactical support on the ground as well. Lucy is gonna hang back with Grey per his decision to help on Jackson’s murder case. While Nolan will fold in with Tim and Nyla to contact Max and get their mission going.

They land and their original plan doesn’t pan out. It was to get in covertly through the blueprints Nolan steals. Unfortunately Plan A is squashed due their covert entrance having a steel gate installed. Covering up the only weak spot for the house making the blueprints useless. Tim also brings up if they’ve added this gate who knows what else they’ve added inside? Says they have to go to Plan B which Nolan and Harper bitch to him about lol

Tim is the ONLY ONE with military experience. He knows how to quickly adapt in a hostile environment especially when a plan goes to shit. Even though its super risky it's their best option. Nolan I expect the whining from. Harper should appreciate this since she was a UC. Yeah its not ideal but bitching at him doesn't make it better. It's only ok when Lucy does it haha

I do love this scene above so much it’s underrated IMO. Lucy telling him she doesn’t like Plan B is too funny. He looks so damn exasperated by her dislike of the plan. Harper and Nolan turning around is too funny I have to say. Like we told you she wouldn’t like this plan....When really it’s just her worry coming through in spades. Her person is in potential danger and she doesn’t get to have his back. Lucy is very far away and her worry is very evident. The secondary plan puts him in more danger. Danger she can't control that from another country. So she is a little anxious. Poor thing.

Side note before we delve into the moment above. Military Tim is a flavor I like very much. Look at him. How does this man make such an ordinary outfit sexy as hell? He’s wearing the hell out of that t-shirt Ovary explosion on-top of his sexy biceps popping out of it. *fans self* Also its not shown here but his belt hanging over the edge of his pants. Wish I could've fit more gifs of Military Tim. I'm bummed I could not haha (shakes fist at tumblr's gif limit) Anyways It’s like he wants me to implode from the thirst trap that he is. Plus the 5’clock shadow lining that sexy jawline. Have mercy.

Anyways another underrated moment in this episode is Lucy telling him to be careful. It’s such a loaded moment. Look at the way she is anxiously shifting around. You can see Lucy is bouncing her knees up and down trying to get her nerves out. She not even close to processing losing Jackson right now. She can’t fathom losing her person too. Lucy needs to let him know to be careful and she’s worried. That she cares. Lucy is so very stressed for Tim. It's driving her insane she doesn’t have his back in this moment.

If Harper wasn’t there I’m sure his answer would’ve been a little different. More sincere and soft. Since Harper is Tim is doing his macho confidence thing to keep her from worrying instead. Tim is also confident in this plan even if it’s more complicated. More shock and awe. As he says. Sending Angela into pre-mature labor then intercepting her at the hospital with the antidote. Which they do pretty flawlessly. Angela dispatching of La Fiera while pregnant was pretty damn bad ass before getting away. Also I love them all pulling a gun on Max to pick up Wesley/Nolan HA Wesley and Angela's reunion in the helicopter is super sweet I love them ❤️

Fast forwarding 3 months to her having the baby, them all healing a bit more after Jackson’s death was a good call. Angela and Wes arrive home to a welcome home party. Lucy could not be cuter with her excitement over her baby basket. She made her all these organic and homeopathic cookies. Once Lucy departs Harper tells her not eat the cookies LMFAO But it was something positive for Lucy to focus on. It made her happy to assemble it for Angela. So sweet.

The episode ends with Angela talking to Jackson’s gravestone. Ugh my heart. Her updating him on everything. Saying she hopes by the time her leave is over she can face the station without him there. Killing me Angela. I love them naming their kid after him. Gut punch to the feels. Ep starts with a gut punch and ends with one. Hell of a start to an incredible season.

Side notes- non chenford

I love when Grey says he’s feeling biblical about losing Jackson. We all were Wade. So upsetting…

The intro of Elijah. He’s a solid baddie I enjoy his SL with Wesley. The things we do for those we love. Actor is solid af cause I hate him so much haha doing his job well.

Also in that post hug scene I love that Tim has a photo of Kojo on his bedside table I love this man sfm.

It is very kind of Grey to remind Nolan he’s done as a rookie. Everyone in the room is happy he’s a P2. He’s a putz but a somewhat likable one haha

I love the portion with Grey and Lucy. They got a hit on the DNA. They’re riding together to get this little shit. Lucy is still rattled and Wade tries to help her get past it. What’s great is he starts out as the one telling her she has to be professional, do her job everyone is depending on her too.

Especially Jackson’s family. Then he has a crisis of conscious right before he arrests him. His speech to that kid hurts to listen to. ‘A young man so full of life. Hurts my soul to think of him in that dark room on that cold table’ oof.

I will give it to Nolan him saving Wesley was pretty awesome. That’s his one compliment this season from me haha

Thank you as always to this incredible fandom, you amazing supporters who like, comment and reblog. Means everything. Shall see you all in 4x02 :)

[jgroffdaily]

How does it feel to be nominated alongside Daniel and Lindsay after doing Merrily together for nearly two years?

I'd known Lindsay forever; I didn't know Dan. I knew his work, but I didn't really know him personally. And I remember feeling, the first day when we walked into rehearsal, that so much has come for free, like when you go on a good date and the conversation is flowing.

It's really emotional because now, we're actually friends in a deep way. We've seen each other go through so many different things. We were at Lindsay's wedding; Lindsay's pregnant; Dan had a baby with his girlfriend — all in the last two years.

So much life has happened. We've lived the experience of doing the show both personally and as characters. There's so much real feeling that now I don't know where one of us begins and the other one ends. It's such a symbiotic relationship at this point, and to be here celebrating a show like this is phenomenal.

Did you have a connection to Merrily before joining this production?

[Actor] Gideon Glick, who I did Spring Awakening with, texted us all on the Spring Awakening chain years ago and said, "Oh my god, you guys have to see this Merrily documentary. It's us. It's reminding me so much of us."

In 2021, in November, we did a 15-year anniversary reunion concert of Spring Awakening. I invited [production company] Radical Media to come and record the concert and do a documentary that was, in large part, inspired by that Merrily documentary because I wanted to capture us from 15 years before and us now.

A couple months later, I got asked to be a part of this production. I watched Maria's British production of Merrily on YouTube, which is still there. When the character of Frank [...] said, "I've only made one mistake in my life. I made it over and over and over again, and that was saying yes when I meant no," that was the moment where I was like, "I have to play this part." I feel that so deeply.

Is there anything you wish Sondheim could know about this production?

I feel him talking to us every night. A gift that he left our whole community is his work. Between Off-Broadway and Broadway, we've done Merrily over 300 times. As a performer, that's really kicking the tires of the material if you still feel, over 300 performances in, like there's still so much more to learn. In his work, in his music, in his lyrics, honestly, last night — I'm feeling new things that I've never felt before.

Great art, when you get the chance as an actor to perform it, changes you from the inside out. I feel like I'm learning every day. It's like free therapy to do his work because it's so poetic and so thoughtful and so emotional.

What was your first experience with Sondheim's work?

[My] Sondheim gateway was a VHS from Suncoast Video at the Park City Mall of Into the Woods when I was in seventh or eighth grade. I brought it home. I was like, "What is this? I love musicals. I love fairy tales."

I watched it in one sitting and then I rewound it and then watched it all a second time.

What did theatre mean to you when you were younger?

Getting the chance to do theatre in [middle] school was life-changing for me. Same thing in high school.

[I had] the opportunity of being on a stage and getting to express myself as a teenager, and then going to see theatre and [discovering] that's it's so easy to understand the medium because you can perform it at school and then also see it. It's the actor's medium — you see people out there doing it live, and there's a real communion with the audience.

Being closeted when I was in high school — as I look back now, I didn't realize it then, but theatre was where I went to express myself, express joy, express sadness, express love, express myself physically, just even the act of singing. When I look back now, I realized that theatre, as a teenager, completely saved my life.

Do you have a favorite memory associated with the Tony Awards? The annual broadcast is many people's introduction to Broadway.

Oh my God, so many. I would record the Tonys on a VHS, and then I would bring them into school and show them to my fellow students in math class.

I taught a unit on the Tony Awards at York Little Theatre summer camp in 2004 with a bunch of 10-year-olds. It was the year of Wicked and Avenue Q and The Boy From Oz and Caroline, or Change. They all held a vote on who they thought should win Best Actress.

Probably the Tony performance I've watched the most is Sutton Foster doing "Forget About the Boy" [from the musical Thoroughly Modern Millie in 2002]. I was in high school. I saw the show six times. The heat coming off her as [...] she's playing this character of moving to New York and wanting to make her dreams come true — I was just lit on fire by her and that performance.

[triflesandparsnips]

HEY FOLKS GUESS WHO FINALLY WATCHED THE FINALE

it's time again for "is it really a good idea to post your uncensored thoughts hahaha just kidding FUCI IT WE BALL" screenshots of my episode livetexting.

Transcribed:

okay so I'm in the AD now

I like the "gong" sounds during the "last time"

then BOOM

also ugh I gotta rewatch the prev episodes on the BIG screen, there's so much happening

oh baby omg the sweet music omggggg

FISH

omg so much NATURE he HATED nature in his previous vibes

awwwww his monologue is PRECIOUS

FISHSCALES that's what FAKE PEARLS are made out of

whoooo the fuck are these PEOPLE

ommmmg lololol

"SIMPLE LIVES" "SIMPLE WAYS"

LOL PUNCH OMG

"I said I CAUGHT a fish ONCE" omgggggggggg

you PRECIOUS BABYGIRL

...........................okay hey omg tryin to be a housewife Ed, ilu

"If you were EVER GOOD AT ANYTHING go and do THAT you bum" -- "YOU GUYS ARE DICKS"

I love him so much

.............oh DANG the republic

wait-- pausing

Ricky is REVERSE STEDE here-- he's "become a real boy" with the praise of his superiors-- except he's the MONSTER Pinocchio from Jim's story

...okay unpausing

"NEVER BE SLAVES" o i see

some CHOICES are being MADE here

YEAH THEY ARE

OH WAIT

PAUSING AGAIN

NO BUT REALLY

HE'S THE REVERSE PINOCCHIO

HE DOESN'T HAVE A NOSE

..........while i die about that a little i'll unpause

"THE MAN I AM TODAY"

You are going to be insufferable about this, I can tell~

YES I AM

WOOOO

awwwwwww oh no, oh no, Auntie

"Did you? Well, don't want to split hairs" STEDE U DICK

awwwwwww he's saying the failure line to ZYS!

STEDE IS WEIRD ABOUT TOUCH

OH MY

FUCKING

GOD

HE SAID IT

HE ACTUALLY SAID TI

HE SAID IT WAS WEIRD

YOU WANNA TALK INSUFFERABLE YOU HAVE NOT EVEN BEGUN TO EXPERIENCE THE AGONY OF MY TOTAL ANNIHILATING RIGHTNESS

I SAID WHAT I FUCKING SAID

HOLY MOTHERFUCKING CHRIST

.........................so anyway, about those curtains

they sure look great

I should climb them

see what the world looks like from up there

..............................................................I'm going to rewind and watch myself be SO GODDAMN RIGHT all over again

"IT WAS WEIRD"

HELL YEAH

omg he jumped on them!

"oh no!"

....pausing just to say, the closeup of his hand against the stone bridge was. unnecessarily.

good.

....for reasons.

whoops I accidentally rewound to him BEING WEIRD ABOUT TOUCH AGAIN

lololol

I fucking love that he jumped on them, such a delight

I'm checking to see if there's a closeup of his ring on that. very good. um. hand. pressed against the--- YEAH THERE IS

"or is it?"

"that went as well as I planned it" BABE

"to skin a prince" she says as she fixes her hair

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden: Booklet 3

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. If anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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At that moment, I found myself thinking, “Aah, maybe if I disappeared, if I vanished right now, nobody would notice.”

Once I thought this, I could no longer think of anything else.

Before I realized, my hands and feet had moved. I slowly moved my whole body and left that place behind.

Nobody called for. Nobody tried to stop me.

Which was why I was now hiding. I was in a corner of a maze of roses in the royal palace of this forest kingdom.

I looked up at the sky. It was overcast. The air was a little heavy, so there was a chance of rain.

Was anyone looking for me by now? No, they might not have noticed. I could bet a hundred of Drossel’s white camellias that they hadn’t. “That wouldn’t be a bet,” someone said from within my mind.

——What will happen to me if I just stay here like this?

I tried to think calmly. Firstly, I would get hungry. My body would get bitten by insects. The sky was looking shady, so rain might come pouring down on me. I would get a fever from the cold, and then... and then... and then...

The power of my imagination was scarce, so the scenario ended there.

Stretching out my dress’s sleeves and removing my long gloves, I plucked the grass with a bare hand. Picking up some rose petals that had fallen to the ground, I threw them into the air even though they would not fly too far. I looked almost like a child trying to contain her bad mood. Most likely, if anyone saw me, they would wonder what on earth the queen of Fluegel was doing.

Why had I grown up to be like this? All I ever did was think big of small matters and be in a state of chaos. It was such a weak mindset, which people most likely wouldn’t expect to come from someone born in a family that was meant to rule a country.

“Members of the royal family are actually not supposed to expose their original selves. Under no circumstance should you forget that you must act with dignity and be a role model to your subjects.”

Even though I had already become a wife, I behaved like a little girl.

“However...”

I had experienced a romance like the ones that young girls dream with.

“...from my long time working in the court...”

I fell in love and won my beloved lord over.

“...these have been the most memorable Public Love Letters. Yes... in a good sense.”

After running and running, I was now living the aftermath of that.

My name is Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel. Already a year had passed ever since I married off to Fluegel.

   Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel and the Forest Kingdom

   Drossel and Fluegel – no matter what could happen to these two nations in the future, they had me as their intermediary princess. If I happened to die in this rose labyrinth without anybody ever finding me, I wanted someone to remember that.

As to why things had turned out like this, I’d have to rewind my life a little to explain. I had to mix up the cauldron of time that made the hours pass.

How far back was I supposed to go?

That beautiful golden-haired girl. My favorite. The ghostwriter who had become a mediator for my romance.

Rewinding to the times of Violet Evergarden’s Public Love Letters would be going back too far. It should be a bit later. Perhaps the appropriate would be around the time when I, who was once the third princess of Drossel – that beautiful country where white camellias bloomed in copious amounts –, went away and changed my surname. Yes, right, that was adequate enough.

Fluegel was a neighboring country of prosperous forestry. I was married to the man who had the priority rights to succeeding its throne. Letting go of everything that I had cherished until then, I married off.

I had transformed from a girl into an adult. Although my appearance hadn’t changed much, that was my status.

My husband was Damian Baldur Fluegel. He was the person who possessed the rights of succession as the next monarch at the beginning of our marriage, but a few days ago, he had inherited the throne from his father and become a king both in name and reality. In other words, I had become the queen as well.

Probably the worst queen in history. After all, I had run away.

   Let me try to trace the rewound time with exact precision.

Fluegel’s capital was a city of fresh greenery, which had a castle erected in the depths of a forest. Said royal palace couldn’t be considered sturdy or showy, but it was in perfect harmony with the nature, endowed with a calculated beauty. Unlike Drossel, a country that maintained itself through the tourism industry, Fluegel had much of its national interest shouldered by its forestry. Drossel’s national flower was the white camellia, while Fluegel’s was the red rose.

The two countries were separated by a large river, but one would be tempted to wonder how they could be so different.

Differences were by no means a bad thing. After all, Lord Damian and I had met because we had been raised in such different cultures. That was exactly why I became attracted to Lord Damian’s… albeit artless, uninhibited personality, which was so unlike that of the royals from Drossel and other nations...

Yes, “differences” were not bad. But the so-called “differences”... how should I put it? When they weren’t tolerated, instead viewed as an absence of profits and effort, they would turn into a really bad thing.

Most likely, that was what made me the way I was now.

Was this an excuse? It might be. But that was how it was. That was it.

At first, my life in Fluegel didn’t go well.

Becoming used to even small differences in habit was extremely difficult for me, which caused the chamberlain to sigh often. He was someone who deserved respect for having taken care of Lord Damian’s personal matters for quite a long time.

There was no mistaking that I was in a position higher than his, but I soon understood that he looked down on me. One could tell as much by things such as the movements of the other’s eyes and their attitude.

The chamberlain would tell me: “That is not the way we do it in Fluegel”, “This is for your protection. You will be criticized otherwise. Now, fix yourself up”, “I have said this several times, but...”

I didn’t think I was some idiot. I believed myself to be the kind of girl who could do well if I put my mind into it. But I had to admit that I was a very unstable crybaby.

The differences such as the ones that the chamberlain talked about were, for example, the order in which people were seated at meals, how to lift my dress when hopping into a carriage, and other minute details like that. If I were told such things back in Drossel, I was positive that I could internalize it in the first try. After that, I definitely wouldn’t repeat the mistake. But the moment I tried to do it in this foreign country that I wasn’t familiar with, being watched by the monitoring eyes of someone that didn’t have me in his favor, I ended up failing. It was almost as if I were inducing the failure on my own. What was this phenomenon?

The chamberlain most likely knew this as well. He knew it, and even then he would sigh and speak in a detached manner while watching me go pale. There was nothing good in it for either of us, yet we would find ourselves repeating this vicious cycle.

To be honest, we were so incapable of getting along that the desire to jump off from one of the Fluegel castle’s windows as retaliation surged from within me. However, I had no choice but to keep going. Because I was a newcomer and that person was an elder.

If I didn’t get used to this, it would be the end of me.

Right, and there was also the tea party. The flow of the Cauldron of Time had finally returned to the present.

It all had begun… from the chamberlain suggesting that if I, who had become the queen, held a tea party, I would certainly make myself known as someone who shines like the stars in the night sky. He gave a long speech about my authority as a queen being this and that. That detestable chamberlain.

I did like tea parties, but even after being in Fluegel for a year, I wasn’t able to find myself anyone that I could consider close to me, so I frankly didn’t like the idea. I hadn’t gotten myself anyone to be on friendly terms with, so rather than a display of my power, wouldn’t this be deemed as more of a public execution for me?

Ever since I had arrived here, I was in the position of a foreign princess who had a political marriage with Lord Damian, so both the royal family that I had joined and the people who took care of me were somewhat distant… To make things worse, I was the very person who had tainted the traditional event of the Public Love Letters. People were wary of me as an unprecedented princess.

I had seen that Fluegel had a liberal aspect to it and wasn’t too bound by formalities in comparison to Drossel, but when it came to the royal family, that was a different story.

Whenever I passed the corridors of the royal palace, I could hear one name being whispered. Everyone would have faint smiles on their faces. “Baby Princess” was what they called me.

The one who came up with it was Lord Damian’s younger sister or something. Indeed, I had childish facial features and I was the girl who had married for love, so there was no helping that I would be mocked like this.

Receiving a nickname and having it made into a title meant that it was ingrained in people. Once a knight earned himself an alias, others would expect him to have a conduct that was worthy of it. In that same manner, no matter what I, Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel, might say… I lived in Fluegel as the princess whom everyone would giggle at.

Whenever I made a mistake, “it’s because she’s a child”. If I happened to rush towards Lord Damian, “it’s because she’s a child”. Whenever I said anything, “it’s because she’s a child”.

If there was some magic spell that could turn me into a twenty-year-old right now, I would have taken it. It’d be great if I could instantly grab ahold of my dignity in a way that nobody would complain. But that was something that people had to be awarded to through the years, along with their efforts...

I might have been the Baby Princess today as well – the day of the tea party.

The chamberlain was in awfully high spirits, which one way or another was an omen for misfortune. I was watching from my bedroom as the elderly man briskly instructed the people around him.

From the room where I stayed with Lord Damian, I could see the castle’s garden, the rose maze that started from the garden’s entrance veering to the side, and the castle town. Back when we had just married, we used to often gaze outside the window together, but now we couldn’t even talk for more than five minutes.

Ever since succeeding the throne, Lord Damian was truly busy. He would be working while I waited for him in our room; by the time that I woke up, he would be by my side without me having realized it; as I stretched the creases that formed between his eyebrows while he was dreaming, he would wake up all of a sudden and then head off to the royal office again.

I was depressed since morning, because why did I have to hold a tea party while my husband was working so indiscriminately? But, well, this was also part of my duties. It was important for me to mingle with other women from a social status similar to mine. The trust earned from them would help not just me but also Lord Damian.

Those who controlled factions also had control of politics. Yes, yes, I knew that much. I had to do this exactly because things weren’t going well. In order to level up my speech skills, I had to start from taking up a stance. As my position was becoming worse, if I could get around here well, I would increase my authority in the royal territory without having to recreate myself.

I understood the reasoning behind this. What the chamberlain said was correct. He was implicitly telling me to do right, and I was the one at fault for not managing it...

The tea party was held in the garden outside at the arranged time.

There were people that I hadn’t seen ever since my wedding ceremony, whom I greeted while turning my head around at an incredible speed. Whenever someone sprinkled the subject of political affairs here and there, I’d throw it back at them with a smile, literally tearing apart and flinging away whatever came at me on repeat. Although the scene actually looked like a peaceful conversation, under the surface, I, the queen, was being evaluated, so this was a battle.

I thought I had done a really strenuous effort up until the middle of it. Instilling the impression that “My, so maybe the Baby Princess isn’t a bad person and is surprisingly smart when she talks?” was quite a success. The signs that I could make them deem me as worthy of standing by Lord Damian’s side were becoming visible. However, the very moment that Her Highness, the King’s young her sister, appeared in the tea party, everything I had set up crumbled down at once.

She was pretty late from the scheduled time – rather, she suddenly showed up when it was already ending.

Although she was close to me in age, she had a very adult appearance and was an awfully beautiful person. Renowned as one of Fluegel’s talented women, she was also involved with the National Assembly, and told us that she had rushed over because the meeting had ended just now. I had not yet been allowed to attend the meetings even though I was the queen, so I was terribly jealous... and a little miserable.

Of course, whatever had been discussed there became the topic, which Her Highness told the women present, explaining in a simplified manner. What a wonderful person she was.

Regardless, it felt like this was going to end as Her Highness’s tea party, even though it was mine. Well, that was okay too. Rather, it might be easier if there was someone to take the initiative to talk like this. I had a bug where I couldn’t speak very well to people whom I wasn’t close to, so I decided to leave it to her.

Despite this being a tea party, I hadn’t eaten anything, so I had the feeling that I would get hungry in the evening. I wondered what we would have for dinner.

Just like that, half of my soul disappeared somewhere else, so I didn’t notice that the subject had changed from state affairs to the next successor to the throne.

“Queen, are you listening? If things continue the way they are, there will be no helping it if a concubine is appointed.”

Since I hadn’t noticed it, I couldn’t react right away, even as I took the tremendous brutality of those words to the face. This had happened just a moment ago, so I didn’t remember very well what kind of reaction I’d had. I had the feeling that I had responded with a somewhat sluggish reply such as “aah” or “eeh”... much like the way that living creatures cried for the first time upon being born.

I could immediately tell that Her Highness wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

“It is because you are so laidback like this that the King has to fight the national affairs alone. You still intend to be here as a guest, not doing what you have to do, so everyone has to hold back and nobody can speak up their opinions. Talk more. Be more useful to the country. Most important of all, it has already been a year, yet nothing has been reported to us. Are you seriously discussing the succession with the King? If this goes on, someone will suggest a concubine for him.”

With such words thrown at me in sequence, I—I had... I had a thought. That perhaps she was trying to make me lose heart. Wasn’t I being attacked right now?

I looked around. Nobody attempted to open their mouths in order to defend me. There was no one. I had no one.

All of them were waiting for my reaction.

I knew this situation. I knew it very well. I wasn’t being treated as a person at the moment. My personality was being denied as well. The dignity that should be granted to the human being named Charlotte wasn’t being taken into account.

However, I didn’t break. Why?

Because I was used to being neglected.

“Yes, I am truly doing a poor job. I believe it is as you say.”

I was smiling.

“However, it has not yet been decided what will be my part of the work and what will be the King’s, as we are in the process of deciding on it as a couple.”

I was smiling mockingly.

“Now that I have talked to all of you like this, I have concluded I should propose my thoughts to the parliament slowly, little by little.”

I was... smiling.

“I was the princess of my country. But now, I am the queen of Fluegel. I did not intend to be here in the position of guest, but it is true that I was restraining myself. But is that not the same for all of you? I am aware. Everyone has been... well, surrounding me from a distance and looking after me. I was fretting, as it would have been better for you to tell me more directly if there was anything wrong... By all means, I would like to have a frank exchange of opinions with you in the future... and I hope that we can help each other... as fellow women.”

This was laughable.

Her Highness was appalled. So was everyone else. She must have spoken so conflictingly due to thinking that it was sure to make me start crying.

I wanted her to stop saying such stupid things. I was the former third princess of Drossel. Did she know what kind of country that was? It was a country where it was okay for women to become political tools. We were by no means granted the position to act freely like she did. As the shadows so-called “women”, we had no choice but earnestly do whatever we could.

I was born in a country were women were consumed and worn down. To top it off, I had been raised mostly by courtiers, away from my biological parents. I hadn’t seen my mother in forever.

Exhausted as a result of her marriage of convenience, Mother had Father build her a palace and secluded herself in it all day long every day. She did show up at the wedding ceremony, but she hadn’t even sent me a single letter after I had married off. She had probably already forgotten that she had given birth to me.

But that was the country I had been born in. I had been raised by one of this country’s strong women – a carefully selected, tough woman. This person patiently educated me, even though my aptitude wasn’t good. She explained things to me over and over again. She scolded me a lot. She taught me so that I would be able to marry anyone and live anywhere. She had also predicted that a situation like this might happen. So she told me how to act during a quarrel with other women.

That was why I smiled at times like these.

My looks weren’t bad. I was no idiot. I knew what effects I would bring about if I smiled. There was little that I could do, but I was going to be the one firing the best shot here.

I was a crybaby. I was a weakling. I was lonely.

However, I had been taught well. No matter what, I couldn’t lose in times like these. I knew that much.

I had been protected through the erasure of my personality.

   That day’s tea party was over right then, and thanks to the chamberlain saying that it would soon be time to bring it to a close, it ended well.

At a later date, my feud or whatever with Her Highness would become a rumor around the royal palace, but that was a story of the future. In any case, it was over for now. Therefore, I was extremely relieved.

The chamberlain let me return to my room unusually early and consoled me with a “you must be tired”. “You were excellent today,” he told me. Enveloping my shaky palms in his hands, which had wrinkles just like Alberta’s, he warmed them up. “No matter what happens, do not forget that you have one ally,” he said.

From that, I understood a little something. That he, indeed, worried about me in his own way. I wasn’t fond of his way of doing things, but he had struggled as much as he could in order to do something to improve my position.

He had seen what I had gone through today, so he was commending my brave fight. I had been subjected to violence today. I had been told such terrible things. Even though I—I...

I was in love with Lord Damian.

Both Drossel and Fluegel were aware of this. The citizens of both kingdoms knew it. And yet, aah, how embarrassing. But everyone knew.

I was in love with that person. I was in love.

“You have not sired a child after a year, so there might be need for a concubine. Therefore, if such a woman appears, you should accept it,” she said, despite knowing how much it would hurt me.

I was told off. I was told off by the younger sister of the object of my affections. That was what she said to me.

“Thank you, but please, let me be alone.”

I still managed to keep my smile up, but as soon as I drove the chamberlain out of the room, the tears overflowed torrentially and I couldn’t stop them.

There should be things more painful than that out there in the world. I looked like a fool for crying because of something like this. But right now, I was feeling like the most pitiful person in the world. I wanted to return to Drossel. I wanted to go home to Drossel.

No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it.

I wanted to go back to the person who would always allowed me to cry, no matter how much I did so. The person who would stay by my side.

“Alberta...”

I wanted to go back to Alberta.

I knew it was stupid of me. But when I thought that a day might come when Lord Damian, my husband – the object of my affections –, would take another woman aside from me, it was so painful. My chest hurt – it hurt so much that it was hard to breathe. So I couldn’t contain my cries.

I wondered what had gone wrong.

Was it because I had started clamming up, since the chamberlain would always hammer me down by saying, “That kind of unheard-of behavior is not allowed here”, so I couldn’t speak the way I wanted to? Or was it because I was late to find out that not assertively addressing the royal family was bad manners, since I was in a position where I had to wait for people to talk to me first back in Drossel?

Perhaps it was everything.

Apparently, Fluegel hadn’t taken in a princess from abroad in the last sixty years, so maybe it was already difficult for them to accept a foreign object like me in the first place. Things would probably have been different if I were a great woman – yes, a woman like Her Highness –, yet I had nothing but tears. Still, was I such a horrible person that I had to be told such things?

Aah, nothing – just nothing. Nothing was working out. It might be that nothing would go well from now on too.

This thought swiftly made its way into my heart.

All of a sudden, I was able to clearly hear the sounds around me. The noises of someone walking, the whistling of the wind outside, my own breathing. The way that the tears fell down as they dripped from my eyelashes, the way that I was suddenly looking at myself in a holistic manner.

Yes, perhaps things would never work out from now onward. If so, then...

Then, shouldn’t I run away?

Several questions – such as to where, with whom and to do what – came to me, but I ignored them. I had probably broken down at that point.

I dropped my own heart, which I had been cherishing as much as possible in order for it not to break, onto my feet. I had the feeling that I heard a clank when doing so.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

If so, then no matter how much I exerted myself, it would be useless.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

I had to run off to somewhere.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

Nobody was going to protect me.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

After all, this was a foreign country and Alberta wasn’t here. The only one who could protect me was...

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

The only one who could protect me was myself.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

I had to run away.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

I had to run.

——Maybe nothing would ever go well in the future.

If I stayed here like this, I... I might seriously jump off the window.

Once I thought this, I somehow felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore. When I came to my senses, I had left the room.

The courtiers were busy cleaning up the tea party in the garden. The chamberlain had also gone outside in order to instruct them. If I came out of the room without making any sounds, nobody would chase after me right away. When I went into the corridor, there was a soldier, but he was only meant to see whoever entered and exited the place and wouldn’t follow me since he wasn’t my bodyguard.

If it was now, perhaps no one would notice if I disappeared – if I happened to vanish. Once I thought this, I could no longer think of anything else.

Before I realized, my hands and feet had moved. I slowly moved my whole body and left that place behind.

I continued down the stairs and trotted through a passage that relatively few people used. Even then, I did pass by some people, but they didn’t seem to pay any mind to me. To begin with, they might not even have the conceptualization that the queen was running through the halls alone.

It wasn’t like I wanted someone to call for me. However, no one did. No one tried to stop me.

Which was why I was now hiding. I was in a corner of a maze of roses in the royal palace of this forest kingdom.

I looked up at the sky. It was overcast. The air was a little heavy, so there was a chance of rain.

Was anyone looking for me by now? No, they might not have noticed. I could bet a hundred of Drossel’s white camellias that they hadn’t. “That wouldn’t be a bet,” someone said from within my mind.

——What will happen to me if I just stay here like this?

I tried to think calmly. Firstly, I would get hungry. My body would get bitten by insects. The sky was looking shady, so rain might come pouring down on me. I would get a fever from the cold, and then... and then... and then...

The power of my imagination was scarce, so the scenario ended there.

Stretching out my dress’s sleeves and removing my long gloves, I plucked the grass with a bare hand. Picking up some rose petals that had fallen to the ground, I threw them into the air even though they would not fly too far. I looked almost like a child trying to contain her bad mood. Most likely, if anyone saw me, they would wonder what on earth the queen of Fluegel was doing.

Why had I grown up to be like this? All I ever did was think big of small matters and be in a state of chaos.

This wasn’t the married life I had envisioned. I did think there would be hardships, but – how should I put it? – I thought they would be rather different. I thought they would be something easier to grasp.

I honestly didn’t know what I was fighting against. Her Highness probably hated my guts, but if I were asked whether she was my enemy, I would say she wasn’t, and I wasn’t mistaken about that. I did think she was cruel, though.

What was I fighting against? What was I scared of? I kept on being intimidated by vague things that I didn’t understand very well and shutting off my typical behavior, and while I was so frightened, my evaluation from the people around me declined, thus I had come to the point of fleeing.

What was I fighting against? Why was I fighting? Why was I...

Why?

Why was I all by myself right now?

   After that, I cried myself to exhaustion and fell asleep. Perhaps it was an extremely deep sleep, as I didn’t wake up even when night fell. Nobody realized that I was gone, so there was no ruckus over it.

Therefore, I was able to stay asleep forever.

While sleeping, I had a dream. I dreamed with the people of Drossel. Also, Violet – she appeared in it too. My favorite girl.

She looked at me as I cried and said, just like before, “You are such a crybaby.” She also said, “I would like to cease your tears, but I do not have a handkerchief with me.”

I told her that I didn’t need one and hugged her, asking her to stay by my side instead.

I realized that, while I was crying on Violet’s chest, she had turned into Alberta. When I thought, “It’s Alberta”, the tears overflowed even harder.

I appealed to Alberta. No matter what I said, no one listened to it seriously. No matter what I said, people would make faces, as if poking fun at me. No matter what I said, my situation never improved. No matter who I looked at, nobody would help me. No matter who I looked at, nobody was my ally. No matter where I searched, you wouldn’t be there. No matter where I searched, you wouldn’t be there. No matter where I searched, you... you... you...

“It’s because you’re not here, Alberta, that I’m so very weak.”

Even a crybaby like me would be able to act high and mighty if you were there. I would’ve been able to maintain my dignity as a princess. But now I was everyone’s bootlicker. This wasn’t me.

That was why my heart broke and, yes, I dropped it on the floor.

“Alberta, did you not see my heart somewhere around here? I need it... I need it...”

If I didn’t have it with me, Lord Damian would—

   “Were you waiting for me to search for you?” a husky voice whispered.

That was when I woke up.

Just like that one time, the Full Moon was looming over the night sky. The stars and moon were so beautiful in the blooming season of roses.

In a dreamy state of mind, I blinked. The tears spilled again. When my husband saw me weeping, he embraced me as if to hide me from the night sky.

“I will report to the soldiers that she has been found.”

“I don’t want any fuss. Leave us for a while.”

When I heard the voice of the chamberlain as well, my consciousness finally returned to reality. He had said “soldiers”. This might have turned into a big deal. But right now, I didn’t think it would be too scary even if my heart were destroyed. “Is that so,” was all I thought.

This marriage might really be done for now.

Once Lord Damian shooed him, he put his coat over me and crouched down. He gripped my hand, guiding me and carrying me in bridal style.

“This makes me look like a child.”

“No. You’re my wife, aren’t you? And a princess.”

There wasn’t anything else I wanted to do, so I just nodded and did as I was told.

The two of us went through the maze of roses. There was probably someone watching over us. The light of a lantern swayed in the distance as a guide.

“Do you want to divorce from me?” Lord Damian muttered out of the blue with a quivering voice, leaving me in shock. I didn’t understand very well what he was saying.

“Lord Damian, if you want to do so...”

“That’s not it, Charlotte. I don’t want to break up with you... but I was wondering... if you might be thinking of doing that, right now...”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

“Ralph, the chamberlain... has been telling me all this time. That if I were to take the hand of a princess from another country for the first time in sixty years, there would definitely be criticism. He told me to make sure to protect you when the time came.”

What was he saying?

“At first, I thought I was nailing it. I stayed by your side, so that no one could even try to say anything inappropriate to you...”

What was he... saying?

“But then I had to succeed the throne... there were tons of responsibilities stacked up in front of me, and I started looking only at those stacks... I didn’t even realize that you were in such a painful spot. It’s not your fault. I’m the one who isn’t ruling the country right, and for some reason, that’s being taken out on you. Stupid, isn’t it? It’s ridiculous. Everyone thinks it’s okay to do this to you just because you’re an outsider.”

——You’re not the one to blame. I’m aware of my own defects too.

“I also heard about what happened today. It seems you acted dauntless, even though my sister said something truly foolish to you...”

——You’re not the one to blame. Lord Damian. I know it. I know that you look sour every night when you sleep. You’re doing your very best. You’re doing your best every day – every single day. I know that. You may be ten years older than me, but you’re also...

“I’m... I’m pathetic. It’s fine if you complain. Yet you haven’t uttered a single grumble to me until now. Not to Ralph, either. We basked in the fact that you were holding back and nobody took notice of it. And so, we cornered you. Until you ran away, just like that.”

——You’re also still so young.

“I’m... pathetic... I cornered my own wife...”

——So lost, so scared.

“...to the point that she ran away... barefoot.”

——And shaking.

“Charlotte, have you come to hate me already?”

——Aah, Lord Damian. So you cry too, huh. For some reason, I used to think that you didn’t shed tears. I wonder why. You were a moonlit prince for me, so I thought you didn’t cry. But I see. That’s right, even you...

“I like you. I want to stop your tears.”

——Even you have a crybaby side.

After Lord Damian had said so, I realized for the first time that I was barefoot. I had the feeling that I was wearing shoes when I left the room – I wondered what had happened. He told me that someone had looked for and retrieved them. For how long had they been searching for me? If it was enough to make this man cry, then they must have searched everywhere.

Needless to say, I was such a handful of a woman. However, my heart, which had broken apart and scattered away, began setting itself in motion little by little. I could feel it regaining its warmth.

The reason might be that, for the first time ever since I had married him, we had now finally become a couple.

He asked me if I had anything that I wanted to do or that I wanted him to do. I told him that I wanted to see Alberta. He told me that he understood. He then asked if there was anything else, and so, I told him something that everyone had laughed at. We were had gone through a lot to be married, so I wanted to do something for both of our countries. I proposed that we build an orphanage near the national borders. Lord Damian didn’t laugh. He told me it would be great.

“Let’s think things out together. I regret not talking about this before because I thought it might be a burden to you. From now on, let’s have proper talks, the two of us. About happy things, sad things, painful things. I want you to talk to me. And I also want you to listen to me,” he said. He then kept on asking if there was anything else...

Lastly, I asked him to lock me up in the palace if he ever found himself a concubine. He got angry, saying he would never have one. We couldn’t be sure. It seemed we had no knack for child making. A concubine might be necessary. Lord Damian said that even then, he didn’t want one.

And then... And then... And then... What was it again?

I buried my face into Lord Damian’s neck. It had his scent, which always made my heart race whenever I sensed it.

“Hey, maybe I want to kiss you right now. My face is a mess because I cried a lot, though. Would you do it even with a wife like this?” I asked.

Lord Damian laughed while crying. “Even if you cry, you’re my lovely wife. Of course I’d do it.”

Overjoyed at these words, I shed warm tears.

When we kissed, as expected, it was a bit salty. My heart throbbed.

“I’m still in love with you, but what about you?” I asked, making sure to sound as if any answer would be fine.

Unsurprisingly, Lord Damian continued making a tearful face. “I actually only fell for you after we got married. So my heart’s beating really fast right now.”

“I see. So our feelings are mutual. That’s amazing,” I said, impressed.

“Then, what did you think it was until now?” he asked.

“A one-sided love,” I answered sincerely.

“Don’t you hear when I tell you that I love you every morning before I leave our room?”

“I do, but I thought it was some sort of flattery...”

“I’m not such a pro at that. When I like something, all I can say is that I like it. I’m very honest. You found that out on your tenth birthday, right?”

“How nostalgic... I’ve been in love with you all this time since then.”

I was living the aftermath of that story. I didn’t know whether it was a happy or sad one. But I would live, live and live. And this would probably go on forever. I was on my own in this royal palace.

But I wasn’t all alone.

“Damian, do you love me?”

“I do, Charlotte.”

I was living here, in this forest kingdom.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

From Eden: Three

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, mentions of mental illness, grieving, trauma, panic attack; tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The mc suffers from agoraphobia. After a new neighbour moves in across the street, her home becomes even more of a prison.

Note: I know it’s been a while...

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Transcript:

Sunday

When Dr. Tisha and Lorena left last night, they were still angry with me. I didn’t care much as both of them lectured me again over that man. I told them the same things I had before. I don’t want to know him.

 They suggested at least that I save the money I made for a day out. Lorena said it would be good for me to try to go into town and do some shopping myself, for myself. The thought made me choke but I just smiled and said, “we’ll see.”

 Now I’m awake, early again. I keep hearing things in the yard. I tell myself it’s a raccoon or something else, maybe even a bat! One got in the house last year and I locked myself in the bathroom until I was brave enough to grab the broom and chase it out. Looking back, it’s sort of funny.

I looked out the window but I just saw shadows that made me nervous. The bird bath was eerie in the dark and the shed looked decrepit. I thought I saw something move along the wall but I’m sure it’s only me being tired.

 I did try to go back to sleep but then I started thinking about things I haven’t thought of in a long time. About the things I told Tisha I never want to think or talk about ever again. 

Then I thought about grandma and mama. Why did they have to leave me?

Later

I was in the garden when it started to rain. It started with a big crack of thunder and I almost screamed at how scary it was. It came so fast I barely got inside before I was soaked through. Then I giggled at myself as I stripped out of my muddy jeans and wet tee shirt.

When I was a kid, I used to love to dance out in the rain, or just stand and let it wash over me. When my mother died, it stormed and I sat in the downpour until I got sick. The drops hid my tears and numbed the pain of that lonely ten-year-old. I’m older now but sometimes I still feel like a kid.

 I watched the sky darken through the window and the smell of the rain in the dirt was comforting. I made tea and kept watching. The sky would flash, a cacophony of awe, and I felt as if I was living in an old Hitchcockian shot. I liked to think there was a camera there to catch the perfectly framed scene, the frightening and frantic swell of the storm that reflected the suspense of the human catastrophe about to take place.

 Then the horror was no longer just in my mind. I cleaned my cup and turned. As I passed through the dark hall I saw a shadow flash at the window of the door. I gasped and rushed forward to check the latch but the figure was gone. I peeked out and there was nothing.

 Now I’m still awake and I think I just got carried away with my imagination. I’m watching The Wizard of Oz but the colours aren’t as bright as they used to be. At least, they don’t seem like it.

🖊

Monday

I don’t remember falling asleep. It must’ve been late, or early depending how you look at it. I woke up to the blue screen as the VCR had stopped and rewound the tape. It was still dark, the sky hungover from the wild night.

 I made blueberry tea. It was too sweet after I let it steep for too long. I watched the morning birds bask in the full bird bath and slowly the sun began to shine down. It’s brighter now and I’m going to try to fix the shed window.

🖊

Tuesday

I couldn’t write anymore yesterday. Not after what happened.

I can’t.

🖊

Wednesday

I 

On Monday, I

He was here.

 I was hammering the board back into place and I hit my finger into the nail. The metal left a painful blister and my knuckle split and bled. I cried out and dropped the hammer as I held my hand and tried not to tear up.

“You alright?” he asked and I looked at him, afraid.

He was at the gate. Had he been there, watching me? I nodded and wrinkled my nose in pain. I couldn’t bend the top of my finger. I hid my hand and left the mess on the ground as I rushed to the front door to hide inside.

“Hey,” he called as I whimpered, dumbly trying to turn the handle with my hurt hand, “you’re hurt. I can help.”

 I shook my head as my finger throbbed. I looked at it and cringed. It was really bad.

“I just want to help.”

“Why are you here?” I watched the door creak open and didn’t look back at him, “why are you bugging me?”

“I was just walking by and I heard you,” he said, “I know how to set your finger… or I can take you to the hospital.”

I didn’t want to go to a hospital. The thought makes my stomach hurt. I hate hospitals.

“I can deal with it.”

“You’re bleeding a lot,” he insisted and I was getting really annoyed.

“What do you care?” I don’t understand him or why he kept bothering me and hanging around my gate!

“Well, I won’t lie to you, your friend, Tisha, she told me to keep an eye on you,” he said through the bars, “so yes, I was watching you.”

“She’s not… not my friend,” I was so angry. Why would she do that!? She doesn’t even know him, I don’t know him, “she’s my doctor.”

“Can I help you with your finger? I’ll stop watching but you need to get it set and soon.”

“I don’t care. I got nine others.” I was mean and didn't care.

“Then I can call your doctor? She gave me her number in case--”

“No, no,” he couldn’t call her. She’d be mad at you and she’d make you go to the hospital, “don’t call her, please. Just… stay here.”

 I went inside and with one hand, I searched under the counter for the dinged old white chest. I pulled it out by the thin metal handle and went back outside. The way he watched me made me nervous even though he was so calm.

“If I let you in, you have to leave right after,” I said as fearsomely as I could, “and this is the only time you’re ever coming in.”

“You’re shaking really bad, that must hurt,” he looked at my hand and ignored my warning.

“Do you get it!? You have to promise to leave after.”

“Sure, just let me help,” he nodded.

 unlocked the gate and slowly opened it for him. We sat at the patio table as he searched through the old box of first aid gear. He took out gauze and found two straight sticks from the garden. He tested their strength and sat back down.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

 I reluctantly put my hand on the table and hissed at the pain in my finger. He cleaned it carefully and I looked away as he went about his task. It hurt less not seeing it. When he finished wrapping it up, I pulled away and stood.

“Good, now go,” I pointed to the gate.

“That won’t be good for more than a day,” he stood, “I have some real splints at my house. I could come back-”

“I told you, no,” you jabbed your hand towards the gate, “out.”

He was quiet and he looked around. His jaw set as he considered the thick garden and his eyes narrowed.

“The flowers are doing good,” he said.

“Please, leave,” I begged, he was making me nervous. 

I was still shaking but not from the pain. I remembered that night, it wasn’t just one, it was several, and they laughed as they stood over me. They were smaller than him, just teenagers, like me, but they still hurt me.

“Go!” I shouted, “go! Go! Go!”

 He grabbed my shoulders as I began to hyperventilate. I hadn’t been so worked up in a long time and I could stop as the fit began. I chanted the word over and over as my body shook so violently and my voice became only deep and painful breaths. My chest burned so bad.

 I didn’t remember what happened after that. I only remember him in my house. I was on the couch and Dr. Tisha was there too. 

When I could speak again, I asked her to make him go. She ignored me and said that he helped me, that he had kept me safe by calling her. 

 But I saw his smile and how he looks at me. I saw the way he paced around the house and noted every inch of it. I watched him as Tisha fed me chamomile tea.

 She didn’t want to leave me alone, she said. She thought I should go to the hospital for my finger and for a mental evaluation. I sucked up the panic in my chest and told her I was okay, that I remembered the exercises and it wouldn’t happen again. I could tell she didn’t really believe me.

“I’ll stay with her,” Bucky offered and my eyes rounded.

“I’ll be fine,” I told Tisha before she could respond.

“You’re not fine,” she said, “in good conscience, if you won’t go to the hospital, I need someone here to monitor you.”

“Lorena--”

“She’s off-the-clock. I can’t expect her to come here right now, she has other clients.”

 I frowned and crossed my arms and crushed my injured finger, “why can’t you stay?”

“Well, I left a session for this and I have others waiting on me. I would stay if it was an option. Listen,” she sat and spoke to me like I was a child, “this man is a public servant. He is a good man, in fact, I think he’s a lot like you. Now it would be wrong of me to go into detail about his experiences but I have it on good authority that he knows better than even me what you’re going through.”

 I shook my head and pouted, “I won’t hurt myself. Not again.”

“I wish I could believe you,” she said, “but recently you’ve shown some serious regression. If you keep arguing with me, I will be obligated to have you escorted to the hospital and kept for seventy-two hours...

Or Bucky can stay until Lorena comes by tomorrow and I can return.”

“I didn’t do anything. I got nervous.”

“I won’t ask again.”

“Fine, fine, he can stay,” I gave up. The thought of another hold at the hospital was enough to make me give in. I couldn’t do that again.

So Bucky stayed and I didn’t sleep. Again.

And I didn’t write and I can’t anymore. I don’t feel good.

🖊

Thursday

There’s a lot to catch up on but I don’t want to write about it. I never want to think about it again.

Bucky’s gone, Lorena and Tisha made their visit on Tuesday, and I’m fine.

I’m fine.

🖊

Friday

 feel him still. He’s watching me. I know he is! 

 He was in my house, he slept on my couch, he walked through my halls. I smell him still and it makes me sick.

 I see him through the gate, he doesn’t try to hide anymore. I called Tisha for my daily check-ins. I’m back to those again. I told her he was watching and she told me he was only concerned. She said I was exaggerating. She thinks I’m crazy!

 The walls used to protect me. I used to hide behind them but now I just feel trapped.

 He’s watching again. I see him through the window. He’s at the gate, his metal hand on the bar as he searches for me. I’m going away before he sees me. I’m turning out all the lights and locking the doors.

🖊

Saturday

The gate is broken again. The face of the lock fell off and one of the bars is bent through several others.

 The lower hinge is busted and I found footprints in the dirt. There are tulips missing from the garden, the pink ones. I got those bulbs from grandma, her last gift to me. I’m sad.

 The doors are still locked and all the curtains are closed. I can’t even turn on the TV.

Later

He was in the house! I know he was! The window to my bedroom was open and the blankets on my bed were all messed up. I woke up on the couch as I usually do. I feel asleep reading a book with only a candle. The candle was out and the pages of the book were bent.

 I got up to go to the bathroom. I felt weird. My shorts were damp with sweat. The house is so hot with the windows shut. I stopped when I noticed my bedroom was open, I always closed the door.

 It’s really hard to write because I’m still shaking. It wasn’t just the window or the blankets. There were pink tulips on my pillow. 

I know it’s him. He’s playing a game with me, a game I don’t like.

 I’m scared and I hear someone in the garden. I can’t remember if I locked my bedroom window. I was so afraid, I can’t remember.

I can’t remember.

I can’t~~

[hollandorks]

Right when I was saying the reader never listens to Bruce, she proceeds to continue never listening to Bruce. But let's Break! It! Down!

Bruce absently rubbed at a spot on his chest. 

It must be that mysterious nonexistent bruise—It be love, my dear boy!

Because that’s what it meant, wasn’t it? That she didn’t have faith in him? Since he hadn’t done better? You should have let me die

No, Bruce!! That's not what she meant!

She didn’t know that he would die for her, a thousand times over, and gladly. 

THIS is what she meant! Just in a different font!

Also if it isn't that, I don't want it.

This couple needs to learn how to communicate with each other, Bruce and Reader. It's so interesting that when they're fighting, they move in sync because they can anticipate what the other person wants to do without necessarily speaking it, but when they're not fighting, shit like this happens. I mean, is that a statement about trauma? Yes. If you're too familiar with an unsafe environment, safety feels dangerous. So, it makes sense that, with what the two of them have experienced, they almost flourish in dysfunction. Everyone in Wayne Manor needs therapy.

But also, this is exactly the shit that keeps shit from happening. You put words in the other person's mouth, thinking that's what they meant when you may not necessarily be right. And instead of talking about it, you take your interpretation as fact, leading to misunderstandings.

Do I love it (in a story)? Absolutely. You're doing fantastic, Shelby. We love the dramatic tension that comes from it.

Bruce rewound the footage to earlier in the night. To her coming outside, frantic, afraid. To their kiss. God, he wanted to kiss her again. It terrified him. 

Proving my point about how safety feels dangerous. You're rich, Bruce. Get a therapist ffs.

There was no use to daydreaming about her. She wasn’t his. 

But she wants to be!!! Just talk to each other. Figure it out. Kiss, cuddle, sleep with each other (in every sense of the phrase), get the oxytocin you both deserve.

Bruce cursed again and snapped the laptop shut. 

HAHAHAHA

Didn't you just answer an ask that said he would do this? I'd like to know if you wrote it in after answering it or if it had already been there.

It's always good to see Bruce's pov. The two of them are literally so in sync, so on the same page with each other, but they just refuse to talk about it and acknowledge the fact they are both dealing with issues. Poor Alfred is gonna have such a hard time getting them to talk to each other. I bet they're both talking to him too and it's like he's having the same conversation twice, multiple times, with two separate people talking about each other. He's probably so done.

OKAY SHELBY—

The way you wrote about the way she woke up with the fragmented thoughts 10/10. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

It's so immersive because that's literally how someone thinks waking up from a nightmare. It's like two sides of your brain trying to figure out which one was real and trying to reference what you know happened vs. what just happened and letting it fight itself until you can figure something out to break the repetition.

The routine of going to watch Bruce and make sure he was okay? Makes. Me. Soft. Matching her breathing to his? Talk about a literal image of being in sync with each other. (Also I've definitely had nightmares of similar fashions and have done that. Except I'm single. So instead of Bruce, it's my dog.)

“What are you doing on the floor?” His voice was the gentlest she’d ever heard it.

This made me audibly whine and aw. It'll make me cry if I'm not careful. I love soft Bruce with every fiber of my being.

I truly, with my entire self, believe that Bruce is the softest man on earth. That, if he got the proper therapy after his parents died, it would just show up in more conventional ways. Even as Batman, the man is soft. He doesn't wanna kill anyone, he just wants the world to be better and he believes that it can be better despite everything. I can imagine there are nights when that he feels incredibly disheartened, where something happens he didn't intend, where that belief feels challenged, but I don't think it ever wavers.

I also believe that he hates how soft he is and would rather die than admit it, but I don't think it's a matter of image. I think he's afraid that if he admits his gentle and soft nature, it makes it real, which makes him vulnerable. Of course, not admitting it doesn't make it not real—he still has that nature—but it just allows him to not think about it and not feel so vulnerable all the time. He just doesn't wanna hurt the way he has before.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

This makes me think about what an incredibly healing process falling in love with the reader must be for Bruce, especially because they're so similar. He has to confront the same demons he has, but instead they're haunting the person he loves. It's a little hypocritical (because he still thinks everything bad that has ever happened in the world is his fault when it isn't), but he'll learn to apply the same values to himself. And the reader helps by telling him the same thing.

So why was it so quiet now? 

This just highlights how smart the reader is and how much she's learning from helping Bruce's vigilante work. I really hope she eventually gets a suit of her own at some point.

Bruce was there in an instant. “Are you hurt?” he asked. His voice was a deep rasp. He grabbed her chin and tilted her face towards the meager light. 

SOFT.

Also, Bruce, how rude of you not to ask Alfred how he's doing??? It's not like the man raised you /s

I know it's because he reasonably knows he's fine, but still. Rude.

Gordon let out a long breath. “You sure do seem to get in a disproportionate amount of trouble, y/n.” 

Yeah, Gordon, Bruce, and Alfred can all complain about it. I hope they have a tea party or something where they just talk about all the trouble the reader gets into.

All in all, fantastic chapter!!! I can't wait for the next one. You're amazing. I, however, have to write my paper (I'm totally not procrastinating whaaaaaat). I hope you're feeling better, bestie!

⌨

***CH 23 SPOILERS***

Hi bestie!! First wow thanks for all the direct quotes 🥺🥺

I think you nailed it re: trauma and communication! They definitely all need therapy. Alfred needs to quit playing cupid and just kidnap them and force them into therapy tbh. And he probably needs to go too because he's a terrible enabler 😂

I thrive off of angst and dramatic tension which is why none of my characters are ever good at talking about their feelings! Oops! They really do need to talk/ kiss/ fuck it out. All three. Over the course of several days.

And as for that shower/ video scene--I'd imagined it but didn't write it! This chapter actually didn't have a Bruce POV at all until a few days ago. And then I specifically wrote that scene into his POV after getting that ask!

Poor Alfred is definitely so done. Every time one of them comes to him with a problem I imagine his sighing, breaking out some sort of meds for a headache, and pinching the bridge of his nose. I may make this canon at some point who knows (not me because I decide stuff on the fly!)

So glad you loved how I wrote the nightmare part 🥺 When I originally wrote it I had actually had a nightmare the night before! Which turned out to be a weirdly good thing because boom inspiration (even though my dream was about spiders and not the love of my life being dead😬)

Grounding yourself is 100% the best way to deal with waking up from a nightmare, whether it's syncing your breathing with someone (or a dog or cat), or focusing on what you can touch etc

Soft Bruce is my favorite too tbh! I know for a fact he's a lot more actions oriented, so how do I show him being romantic? Him comforting her after a nightmare instead of telling her nice things. He is definitely absolutely the softest man on earth. You nailed it. I really think this Bruce is so afraid of vulnerability, especially because in his mind he thinks that it leads to weakness, which in turns leads to people he cares about getting hurt. And yes I kind of am headed that direction re: falling in love being a healing process! Because with the right person it really can be. Not because someone can save you/ make you better, but because they see the good in you and can show you that. He still needs therapy though. Badly

Obsessed with the idea of a support group for everyone in the reader's life where they complain about all the trouble she gets into. Because then there'd also be one for Bruce/ Batman.

Thanks as always for the response!!! You're the best!! Good luck on your paper bestie ❤️ (and yes definitely feeling way better today!!)

[soulmate-game]

Part 2: The same prompt, but Siblings this time

Tim paused the video on his computer, the red figure on it in mid-leap off of a building. Be rewound the video, played it, paused again at the same time stamp.

No, his eyes were not deceiving him. The video was not doctored.

So what the hell was going on?

“Hey Timmie, find anything on that Paris situation Bruce asked you to look into?” Dick’s voice made Tim startle, nearly spilling his coffee all over the keyboard and possibly deleting his hard-earned research. Rescuing his lifeblood from certain doom, he hugged his mug to his chest and glared at his older brother for a second. Dick was not in the least bothered, used to this sort of reaction from the younger detective. Dick just grinned, leaning on the back of Tim’s chair and looking up at the images on the large computer screen above them. He whistled lowly, impressed. “You’ve made a lot of progress, nice! Anything you wanna share with me before the debrief tonight?”

Tim clenched and unclenched his jaw, weighing his options. Dick waited patiently, knowing that sometimes Tim needed a minute to sort through his rapid-forming thoughts. Finally Tim sighed, setting down his mug grimly.

“Actually, yes,” he admitted. Tim’s tense tone immediately made Dick stiffen, straightening up. His eyebrows pulled down, and he returned his gaze to the computer.

“Okay, that’s your serious voice. What is it?”

“I… need your confirmation with something,” Tim turned around and looked straight at Dick. And he hesitated again, because certain… past interactions with his eldest brother once again flashed through his head. The entire Bruce-is-alive and being threatened with Arkham interaction, to be specific. But Tim needed to know the truth, it was his fatal flaw he supposed. He couldn’t back away in fear of how Dick might react.

“Ohhhhkay?” Dick just grew more and more concerned the longer that Tim took to actually speak.

“So, just to recap. There are only four people in history who have been able to do a quadruple somersault, right?” Tim asked, knowing full well the answer. Dick, predictably, shifted and grew even more on alert at the inquiry. He knew that couldn’t mean anything good. His jaw clenched, and his hands formed tight fists. But Dick also remembered the Bruce incident with Tim all that time ago, and he didn’t want to repeat his mistakes. So he forced himself to take a deep breath, and shake himself away from jumping to conclusions.

“Yeah,” Dick nodded. “Me, my parents, and my sister,” he confirmed rigidly. Tim nodded, and then rewound the video on the screen again, nodding to show that Dick should focus on it.

“Okay. But watch this,” Tim suggested, starting the video again. Dick watched as the red and black-spotted heroine of Paris, Ladybug, zipped through the air and around buildings with her yo-yo. He watched as she let go, at a height that even a normal person could manage, and executed four perfect somersaults in mid-air before landing nimbly on the ground. Tim paused the video again, his eyes never leaving Dick’s tense face.

“It isn’t doctored,” Tim said, filling the silence and preemptively answering the questions he knew he would get. “I checked. Magic is involved, but Constantine and Zatanna both confirmed it would have no hold over basic physical abilities like flexibility or… gymnastics. Only specifically combat styles used by past Ladybugs can be transferred magically to the next Ladybug, not this.”

“Tim,” Dick’s voice was terrifyingly blank. “What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing yet,” Tim was quick to hold up his hands in surrender. “I’m still doing research. It’s possible, though extremely unlikely, that she managed to teach herself how to do that. You tell me, Dick, how likely is it?”

Dick swallowed, not wanting to say it but knowing he had to look at the facts. “... At her age? Next to impossible,” he admitted. “She could learn it, theoretically, as young as seven or eight, but only if someone who knew what they were doing taught her since she was about three.”

Tim nodded again. He knew those numbers, he knew where they came from.

“Then— and this is only a theory right now— we have what I think is the more plausible scenario,” Tim swallowed. This was the hard part. “Your sister was kidnapped after your parent’s death, but the body that was found wasn’t actually her’s. It wasn’t in a state to be physically identified, so—“

“I know what state it was in, Tim!” Dick snapped, forcing himself to take a few steps back and just breath. Even now, the image of a tiny body burned beyond recognition was burned into the inside of his eyelids, there to taunt him whenever he blinked or slept and let his mind wander in just the wrong direction. She would be… what, Jason’s age, now? She was seven… only seven, when their parents died and she ran off into the Gotham streets in despair. When she was kidnapped, as is what happens in Gotham.

When Dick was presented with a body he could not say WASN’T her’s a week later.

“The DNA…” Dick tried. “They said…”

“I know,” Tim’s voice was carefully soft. “But the records on your family’s DNA were all kept by the circus back then. The Talons had access to those files. It’s very possible they were tampered with. Switched. It wouldn’t be hard for them to burn your sister’s actual medical files and replace them with forged copies that had someone else’s DNA on them. The data of the girl who actually died.”

Dick closed his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t want to hope, it would hurt too much if Tim was wrong.

Tim had been right about more unlikely things than this, a voice in the back of his head whispered. And yeah, that was true. But Dick was still too scared to hope.

“Finish your research, Tim,” Dick’s voice was strained with suppressed emotion. He couldn’t even look at the younger vigilante as he left the Cave. “Find out who Ladybug’s civilian persona is, and then we’ll talk.”

Tim could only sigh in relief when Dick was gone. That could have gone much worse.

—*—*—*—*—*

A week later, the entire family was gathered. This was the full debrief on the Paris case, rather than the progress update that they had had to do before. Research took longer than Tim had expected, he had years of data to go through after all. But he had come away with exactly what he had been looking for.

After running through the overall situation and where the fight against HawkMoth was at in the present day, Tim licked his lips and took a deep breath. This was it, the Who-Is-Ladybug part.

“I was able to get security footage of her detransformation, just one lucky shot from ten years ago, when this whole thing began,” he prefaced. “She was thirteen years old, and untrained as far as heroism goes, so it stands to reason she didn’t know yet how to be properly careful about transforming. This is that security picture,” he carefully put the enlarged picture up on the Batcomputer, as well as sliding a physical copy onto the table for everyone to pass around.

Dick didn’t even try to grab it, his eyes glued to the computer, expression unreadable. The picture was a little grainy, but most of the girl’s face could be made out. Pigtails, dark black hair that shimmered blue in direct light, blue eyes.

But it was the next picture that Tim pulled up that pushed everything over the edge.

“These are the official pictures of her that I was able to get from Paris records. This first picture is of her at the same age at the security footage, thirteen. The second picture is her now, age twenty-three,” Tim said, before the side-by-side came up on the screen. Tim’s eyes slid over to Dick, who was frozen in his seat, just staring at the images silently. He wasn’t even breathing.

“Dick?” Bruce asked, immediately noticing the behavior. His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

Dick’s next breath came in with a shudder, and he clenched his eyes shut in a futile attempt to stop the tears that came out. He choked out a broken chuckle, shaking his head and giving out a lopsided, watery grin.

“Heh. Another point for Timmy being right,” Dick jokes weakly, rubbing at his eyes.

“What do you mean? Tim?” Bruce turned to the younger of the two insistently. “What’s going on? Who is she?”

“Currently, according to Parisian records, she is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Tim told them. “More specifically, her full name is Marinette Gray Dupain-Cheng. Which I believe is what she chose to change her name to after she was kidnapped sixteen years ago from right outside Haley’s Circus, and illegally transported to France,” Tim clicked another button to bring up a third picture in the side-by-side. It was of someone who was clearly a younger Marinette, but in the very familiar costume of the Flying Graysons, standing right next to a twelve-year old version of Dick. “Because her birth name is Marie Natalia Grayson. Dick’s younger sister, who until now was presumed dead. But I was able to confirm that the medical records back then for Marie were forged, and the information on them could not actually belong to her. The body that was presented as Marie’s… was a red herring to hide that Marie was no longer in America at all.”

Dick’s sob-laugh drew everyone’s attention back to the first Robin, who was now silently, openly, crying. Nobody really knew how to deal with that, and the room descended into awkward silence as Dick tried to regain his composure a little.

“Marinette… Gray,” he whispered, chuckling again and shaking his head as he wiped at his cheeks. “That idiot… her ability with subtlety hasn’t gotten any better, that’s for sure,” he was smiling now, still staring at the pictures of Marinette on the screen. Of his beautiful little sister, all grown up and not buried six feet under like he had thought for far too long.

Because this was different from Hope. This was certainty. The face, the far too on-the-nose name, the somersaults, Dick had even noticed it in the way she swung on her yo-yo. The body memory from years of Trapeze, those little quirks he recognized as belonging to his sister that he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. But now, all together, he could admit to himself that it was her. It was really her.

Could it be a clone? Maybe. Maybe. But that was why Dick snuck out to France the very next day, informing absolutely nobody.

Because he had a test that only the real Marie would be able to pass.

—*—*—*—*—*

"How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that,” the deep, unfamiliar male voice made Marinette squeak in shock, nearly dropping the phone in her hands. She leaned so far to her right that she almost fell over, but her nearly perfect balance (that only failed her when she was nervous or self conscious) kept her upright.

Her eyes darted down to her phone screen, where an app that Max had helped her create was opened. It utilized at least five hundred little fly-shaped drones that Markov managed and kept track of to scan the city for corrupted butterflies and recognize the level of stress or other negative emotions that civilians were experiencing. It cut down severely on patrol time that the crew had to do, making it easier for them to balance their hero and civilian lives and also allowed for them to arrive at the scene of Akuma attacks twice as fast as before— along with helping with the original purpose of catching evidence to use against Hawkmoth, of course.

Marinette straightened her back, smiling sheepishly and closing out the app. She had just been making a routine check, it had only been open for a minute. How had he managed to sneak up on her in that time? Only chat could do that anymore.

That is, until Marinette turned around the rest of the way and got a good look at the man. Her eyes widened— what was Nightwing, a vigilante from Gotham, doing there?

“I don’t see what plausible deniability has to do with anything,” she replied in easy, unaccented English. She might not speak it often, but she did stay in practice. Even now a lot of her fashion notes and thoughts were in either English or Romani. “It’s just a game app that my friend created,” the practiced lie flew easily past her lips, and she was able to even smile confidently and begin to happily ramble about Max’s (public) achievements like she would in any normal situation. “It is still in the test phase of course, but it uses virtual reality and mapping technology to create a treasure hunt sort of adventure game that people can do as they walk around. Like Pokémon go, but with real-time footage of the city— with people not included besides the game characters of course— and it rewards caution as well as keeping active,” she explained their cover story for the app happily. But Nightwing only smiled easily at her with his arms crossed, clearly not believing a single word.

“Ah— but that probably isn’t interesting,” Marinette purposely stuttered, turning her face into one of (surprisingly genuine) confusion as she looked at the vigilante. “What are you here for anyway, Monsieur? This doesn’t seem like—“

“I have a riddle that a friend of mine told me to ask you,” he interrupted, instantly putting Marinette on guard. She took a step back, eyebrows pulling down at the odd request. But still, she chuckled nervously and shrugged. She had to maintain appearances after all.

“Uh, sure..? Riddles are fun, in the right circumstances I guess.”

Nightwing beamed happily, nearly blinding the poor girl. “Awesome!” His next words came out in fluent Romani though: “If a Hummingbird ever gets lost, what kind of animal will track it down?”

Marinette’s mouth went dry, her shoulders dropping. Her mouth opened and closed, the shock of the question leaving her unable to even pretend she didn’t understand exactly what was said. Nightwing’s gaze grew more intense, yet his smile got impossibly soft.

Marinette swallowed thickly, and she took a deep breath before responding in Romani: “You shouldn’t— only one person—“

“That doesn’t answer the riddle, ma’am.”

Marinette’s confusion turned into a harsh glare. “He would never tell someone else to ask me that. What are you trying to play at, Nightwing?” She hissed harshly, still in her native language.

“Listen, Marinette,” Nightwing held up both hands to try to calm her down. It did the opposite, making her take another step back. “Batman and the rest of our team has been looking into the Hawkmoth security—“ Marinette cursed, clearly seeing where this was going. “— We believe he found out who Ladybug is. But, we also found signs that your real name is—“

“Shut up!” She yelled in English, fists clenched tightly. Luckily she had gone into an alleyway to check her phone, or else they would be attracting attention by then. Her eyes sparked with anger. “You don’t get to use that name. And if you’re so smart,” Marinette tucked her phone into her purse and scaled the wall next to her nimbly, perching on the roof as Nightwing cursed and began to follow her. “Then try to predict my moves, birdy.”

It only took a few minutes and crossed rooftops for Marinette to call on her transformation and pick up speed. She knew by then that Nightwing, and probably the other Bats too, already found her out. Not ideal, but manageable. Now she wanted to show him why he shouldn’t come into her territory and dig into her past and think he could get away with it.

Somewhere during the chase, more Bats appeared one by one. Judging by what Ladybug was able to overhear, they had come as soon as they realized where Nightwing had snuck off to.

That made Marinette pause from where she hid behind a sloped roof, in the middle of a call to her own teammates. Nightwing hadn’t come on his team’s orders?

Why the hell had he come, then?

She shook thought thoughts away, focusing on her plan. Paris was her city, and she would make sure the Bats learned their lesson when it came to sticking their nose in Parisian business.

“Bug?” The soft, concerned call came from her yo-yo and pulled her from her contemplating. Max, in full Pegasus attire, was frowning at her in worry on the small screen. She just shook her head at him.

“I’m fine, Peg. Just don’t like how this feels like Gotham ruining my life again,” she remarked sourly. “But I’m fine. Start plan We’re Not Kids.”

Max nodded, but rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like; “even though we made this plan when we actually were kids…”

A portal opened in the air a few seconds later, releasing Honeybee in all her gold and black glory. The winged hero zipped through the air, immediately putting team Miraculous at an advantage since team Bat didn’t want to actually harm them.

It took a glorious five seconds for Honeybee to paralyze them all before Tortoise dropped out from another portal and surrounded the temporarily paralyzed vigilantes in a dome shield that kept them in just as easily as it kept everything else out.

One by one, Marinette’s teammates dropped out of more portals until Pegasus himself joined them. Ladybug took that as her que to come out, leaping over her hiding place to land in front of her friends, who had formed a half-circle in front of the trapped dome.

“Vixen,” she called to the fox-themed hero, whose ears twitched before she straightened to attention. “Create an illusion to hide us. The last thing we need are any pictures or anyone asking questions.”

“Got it!” Vixen agreed easily, raising her flute to her lips. A short melody later, and their surroundings warped. To those inside the illusion, it seemed as if the world merely ended off of the rooftop they were on, into only blankness. Outside, that very rooftop appeared empty.

It was then that Chat Noir stepped up to take Ladybug’s side, his acidic green eyes scanning over the Gotham vigilantes trapped inside Tortoise’s protective barrier.

“You can release the paralysis, Honeybee,” his order was noticeably softer than Ladybug’s clear commands. It was obvious that he was the deputy in this situation, the flexibility to Ladybug’s iron leadership. That was when the red clad hero crossed her arm, resuming control of the situation wordlessly. The Gotham heroes briefly glowed gold as Honeybee let their paralysis begin to gradually wear off.

“Paris is my city,” Ladybug’s voice was at a normal volume, but came out with such auditory steel that it was clear she expected to be listened to, or she’d know why. “If I needed or wanted your help, I would have asked for it. Now, if you had come here normally to offer aid, then we might be having a different discussion right now,” her eyes narrowed further. “But you dug into my past. You violated my privacy. And Nightwing, you crossed a line,” she would have continued if the blue and black clad hero didn’t use his sudden ability to move to rip off his mask.

Marinette’s voice died in her throat, and for a while she thought she might be hallucinating. Those eyes, that face— she knew them. She knew them, because she saw them whenever she dared close her eyes. Because the dreams she had, the dreams that made her never want to drag herself out of bed because she wanted to believe those dreams were real so badly, always contained those eyes. And that face, though it had been much younger in her memories.

She stumbled, and only Chat’s presence at her side kept her from toppling right over.

“Bugaboo?” He asked frantically, distraught. She just shook her head dazedly, pushing herself back to her feet and away from her partner.

“I’m fine, Chat. Just…,” she assured her partner, but her eyes never left Nightwing. She licked her lips nervously, before continuing; “... Bluebird,” she whispered, making Nightwing’s eyes widen. Her brother’s eyes. “That’s the answer to the riddle, right?”

Slowly, a wide smile split his face before he began to laugh happily, despite Robin slapping Nightwing’s mask back on his face with a furious grumble.

“Ladybug?” Tortoise asked, stepping up to her other side cautiously. Seeing as they were all adults now, none of them had to worry about time or power limits anymore. “Are you..?”

“Release the shield,” she ordered instead of answering, her eyes clearly damp behind her mask. “I need to strangle my idiotic older brother for scaring the hell out of me.”

That made the rest of her team make their various exclamations of shock, but Chat and Tortoise stayed silent. Chat just put a hand on Ladybug’s shoulder in support, while Tortoise zipped his wide gaze back to Nightwing before sighing and releasing his ability.

“Only you, Bug,” the green clad hero groused playfully. “Only you.”

If Marinette Dupain-Cheng suddenly introduced her long-lost brother to her closest friends and family that same night, nobody voiced the coincidence out loud.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 1: Romance

Part 3: Bio!Parent

[fruitcoops]

Can you write about the first time remus lost a game with the lions?

Absolutely! As a former sports kid, losing a game literally feels like someone ran you over with a truck, and I hope I conveyed it well with this <3 Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“I feel like shit.”

“I know, sweetheart. Do you want some water?”

Remus groaned and buried his face deeper into the pillow as Sirius gently rubbed his back. “Not really.”

“I’m going to go watch tape for a bit, okay?”

“Go for it. I’ll be here.” Slowly dying, because I’m a freaking loser who can’t catch a single puck. The couch creaked as Sirius stood, but Remus felt him hesitate.

“Losses happen, Re,” he finally said. “They suck, but they happen.”

“But we won the Cup.” God, I sound pathetic.

Sirius laughed softly. “That doesn’t mean we’re untouchable.”

“Wait.” Remus reached out for Sirius’ wrist and dragged his face out of the sofa cushion. “I’m really sorry I missed that pass. It was perfect, and that one’s on me.”

He was grateful for Sirius’ shrug, instead of a half-hearted ‘nah, it’s fine’ or even worse, ‘what pass?’. “It happens. Meet you on the ice in twenty?”

“You got it, baby.”

Remus managed to sulk for a full ten minutes before he hauled himself up, drank some water, and followed the faint sound of the game after a pit stop to the kitchen. Sirius was hunched over his notepad, scribbling between plays. “Bonjour. Am I late?”

“We’ve still got ten minutes. Can I join you?”

“Sure.” Sirius frowned as he set a box of Oreos on the coffee table before curling up at the armrest. “I didn’t buy those.”

“I did. There was a sale last week and I was saving them for a special occasion. Help yourself.” Remus shoved one in his mouth as Pots made a beautiful goal on the screen.

Sirius licked the uber-sweet crème from the middle before gesturing to the game with half of the cookie part. “I think I figured out our problem.”

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. Watch.” He rewound the tape for Pots’ goal, then fast-forwarded.

Remus winced. He watched himself skate up the ice and call for the puck, only to immediately lose it to number 15, who carried it back down for a goal. Yet another one of his shining moments from the game.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t just you. Did you see the difference?”

Shake it off, Loops. What did you see? “Yeah, actually. We came in too quick during the first period, so they were ready for us during the second and third. 15 was waiting for me to go that way. We should have scoped their offense out before relying on our defense the whole time.”

“Exactly.” Sirius grabbed another Oreo and started the tape again. “Both our goals happened early, when we could still surprise them.”

Remus nodded. “But we fell apart when they figured us out and never adapted.”

Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders and planted a kiss to his temple. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re a hockey nerd.”

“I love you, too.” A sudden thought struck him. “I think I know a drill that would help with this.”

“Nope, we still have four minutes before I’m shoving my feet back in those skates. Get over here and cuddle me.” Sirius set the remote on the floor and pulled Remus over onto his chest. After a moment, he sighed softly. “It’s just one game.”

“I know.”

“I was talking to myself.”

“Ah.” He wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist. “What was it you said last week? Win as a team, lose as a team? Don’t blame yourself. If it’s not my fault, it’s not yours.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Does that mean I get to bully you into running drills?”

“I do not bully you—”

“Sometimes you can be a little pushy—”

“You are such a liar!” Sirius laughed, reaching up to tickle his sides and nearly rolling them both off the couch.

They both groaned when Remus kicked him in the shin on reflex and he kissed him quickly on the cheek as an apology. “Oof, sorry baby.”

“I guess that’s our cue to head downstairs?”

“Probably.” Remus’ back popped as he stretched. “Yikes.”

“I don’t suppose I could talk you into taking a nap here instead?” Sirius asked, turning on his saddest puppy eyes.

Remus snorted. “You definitely could, but you’ll be up all night if you do.”

“Ugh. Fair point. Lead the way, Captain.”

[chalkrevelations]

Word of Honor, Episode 30. STILL A LOT. This one got long.

(Spoilers. Scroll away and come back later, if you need to.)

Yeah, so, A-Xiang and I are crying again. At least they’re good, cathartic tears, this time? Poor Cao Weining – he continues trying to make sense of all this (It’s all a misunderstanding, right? My good friend Wen Kexing was framed, right? He can’t possibly be the terrifying master of the Ghost Valley, and you can’t possibly be his henchwoman, right?), but nothing he knew is true anymore. Nothing except his faith in A-Xiang. I know you’re good, he tells her. I won’t fail you. And they do make this explicit here, with him saying, “I made a promise I will never fail you in my life, not even once.” I’m flailing on the couch, at this point. Come here, my little cinnamon roll, and let me squeeze the stuffing out of you. And oh. Oh. It just hit me that a girl who was raised by the Department of the Unfaithful (as well as WKX) has found a man who will vow this to her and mean it. Also, I don’t know if this is the closest we’re going to get to this theme made explicit with Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing, but Cao Weining and Gu Xiang continue to act as proxy here for the m/m couple that has to be more circumspect. (Also, I would compare the way this promise, spoken out loud, bookends this ep – Cao Weining’s heart once again offered here, at the beginning, and the undertones of betrayal in Xie Wang’s words to Zhao Jing at the end, but we’ll get to Xie’er in a bit.)

Digging into our continuing parallels, I said a bit back - Ep 26? sometime before Wen Kexing’s identity had the ultimate reveal in the confrontation with Ye Baiyi, at least - that Zhou Zishu was beyond “you don’t fail me and I won’t fail you” into “even if you do fail me, I won’t fail you.” That’s where Cao Weining is now, knowing (finally) what A-Xiang’s been hiding from him, as ZZS knew about the Ghost Valley even before it was actually spoken out loud. Even if A-Xiang is there to infiltrate his sect, even if she’s helped cause all this death, Cao Weining will follow her into death and reincarnate with her to stay with her and protect her forever. (Ugh. My heart. Cao-dage, how are you like this?) Last ep, watching WKX’s frantic efforts to save Han Ying, I think there was some callback to the Four Sages of Anji, but I also pointed to what I saw as a callback to the paired conversations in Eps 22/23, when Cao Weining tells A-Xiang to be more careful because he knows she’ll feel bad if she kills an innocent accidentally, and ZZS tells WKX he’s trying to protect him from more sins on his hands. This ep, there’s a literal flashback to that Cao Weining/Gu Xiang conversation in Ep 22. I also want to go back to the interminable infodump in the Longyuan Cabinet cave in Eps 19/20, where - similar to Cao Weining finally learning and accepting who A-Xiang is in this ep - Zhou Zishu has finally put together all (well, most) of the pieces, and he makes it clear that he knows (at least part of) who WKX is by calling him “Zhen Yan” to his face. The color palettes for the two couples match in these scenes – slightly more saturated and intense for the older couple, but lavender for WKX and A-Xiang, blue for ZSS and Cao Weining; we also have an enthusiastic hug that’s met by a hesitant response. Although roles are reversed in the hug – A-Xiang hugging Cao Weining, ZZS hugging WKX - the way they shot Cao Weining’s response in this ep, hesitant hands finally going around A-Xiang’s back, is almost exactly the same framing and movements as WKX’s response to ZZS’s hug in Ep 20 (7:37 in Ep 20, 9:00 in Ep 30). I’m just sayin’.

Also, I might or might not have rewound three times to watch Cao Weining wipe the tears off A-Xiang’s face and her responding radiant smile. You can’t prove anything.

The other big parallel I see in this ep is a return to the ZZS/Prince Jin and Xie Wang/Zhao Jing relationships. Everyone is telling their creepy gaslighting mentor/parent figures to fuck off in this episode, apparently. (We even (kind of) get to see WKX do this, seeing the scene of him in the aftermath of killing the past master of Ghost Valley in flashback as A-Xiang tells her tale to Cao Weining). I have to think it’s not just coincidence that the ZZS/Prince Jin and Xie’er/Awful Yifu confrontations play out in the same ep. Not to mention the fact that both happen in the middle of a big fk’n mess, lit. and fig., that ZZS and Xie’er have made of not just their physical surroundings, but their Awful Prince’s/Yifu’s plans.

So, first off, we cut to Bad-Touch Prince Jin. I knew it, you creepster (and ZZS knew it too!). And yet, I still cannot believe you. You kidnap him, try to kill everyone in Four Seasons Manor for the second time around, burn his house, plan to get him drunk and take advantage of him, lit. and fig., and now you’re fondling his sword? Eurgh. There’s definitely an air of “bathe him, dress him, and bring him to my chambers” with ZZS at the beginning of this scene, even if we’re actually in the throne room and not any bedchamber (not that I don’t also enjoy the leather bracers-updo-evil collar look on ZZS, so I’ll give Prince Jin points for good taste, at least). Prince Jin pulls out the poor yifu prince card, because it’s lonely being in charge, you know. And now, we’re back to how could you leave me. Aaaaand then, he blows off Han Ying (Han Ying!), the last sort-of vestige of ZZS’s Four Seasons shidi, and oh, boy. You done fk’ed up now.

So, I love how clearly done with all this ZZS is, from the first minute we see him this ep. I keep hearing this role was a departure from Zhang Zhehan’s norm, and while I plan to check out some of his earlier work, I’m honestly glad I got to see him first in this. I hope it opens up some more doors for him. I keep being struck at various moments by his physicality as Zhou Zishu, which has a weight behind it that just … ah. I keep failing to put it into words, but it gives a substance to the character that makes ZZS feel real, and it’s not particularly in his big action fighting scenes that it keeps hitting me, like you might expect when it’s something about the way he moves and carries himself. I started turning this over in my head last week, when I talked about how I felt that shout at WKX in the wake of the fight with Ye Baiyi in Ep 27, moreso than any of the other various shouty characters we’ve met in the show, even when their yelling is louder and more sustained. There was something visceral about ZZH’s performance in that moment. It reminded me of an earlier scene when Wen Kexing’s been drunk under the table by Ye Baiyi but insists that he’s fine, just fine, and Zhou Zishu, who’s trying to make him go to bed, makes a feint at him and then hits him on the shoulder. (Hold on … I just went and found it, it’s at 37:19 in Ep 17.) Not just the hit, but particularly the feint preceding it struck me the same way Ep 27’s shout did. It’s something that maybe comes through strongest when ZZH is doing leashed anger, where the character’s raw emotion is simultaneously supposed to be controlled but leaking through – that contrast seems to showcase what I’m talking about. Or maybe not just anger, but any really strong emotion, because I got it in this ep, among other places, from the little lip tremble as ZZS drinks some of the wine before he pours one out for his dead homies, as well as from the way he works his jaw to get himself back under control after bringing up all his dead shidi. Also the tiny lip quirk and deliberate breathing while Prince Jin disparages Han Ying. (Not the snarl when he’s faced off with Prince Jin holding his sword blade right before the cheesy cut to close-up split-screen, though. That one didn’t hit right, unfortunately.) ANYWAY, this whole throne room scene with Prince Jin is basically porn for me, with ZZS simmering the entire time until he finally breaks and everything explodes. God, the only thing it’s missing is actual tears.

Cut from the scene of ZZS literally striking back at Prince Jin to what’s going to be – at least it looks like – Xie Wang’s breaking point. Xie’er and his henchwomen seem genuinely surprised that Awful Yifu is the one who shows up as reinforcement for the Gentle Wind Sword Sect, and I’m still trying to untangle all the various strings of this web. I don’t know if I’ve missed some things, or not put something together properly – I feel like Cao Weining, all “Slow down, I can’t keep up!” Anyway, we get a very public repudiation of Xie’er by his Awful Yifu, which is interesting because nobody is supposed to know they’re connected in the first place, right? Yet, clearly Mo Huaiyang does, and no one in his sect – all of them standing around in the subsequent cave scene - seem to react with any kind of shock to the info that Zhao Jing is Xie’er’s yifu. Aren’t we supposed to be hiding this from everyone? So that not only the jianghu but Prince Jin doesn’t know it (yet)? Anyway, as well as getting slapped, Xie’er gets a couple of places with good little maniacal laughs in. Given the apparent surprise at Awful Yifu’s appearance, I’m assuming this was something Xie Wang really didn’t expect, and this public repudiation is the breaking point? Or that Awful Yifu hid this alliance from him? Not that this attack on the Gentle Wind Sword Sect was part of a deliberate long-game to fuck over his Awful Yifu by fucking up this alliance? Anyway, Xie’er has learned his lesson about his Awful Yifu – or at least he says he has - so maybe there will be some deliberate fuckery of Awful Yifu going forward from here? Have you learned your lesson, little gambler? Finally?

I do have to warn you, Xie Wang: Do not touch A-Xiang. This is a hard limit. You will be dead to me.

Scattered other things:

Duan Pengju, omg, this asshole. I love how he just gets dismissed from the throne room like a lackey once he’s delivered the guy Prince Jin actually wants. I love how ZZS says, out loud, with everyone in the throne room to hear it, why would I leave this loser in charge of anyone I cared about? I looooove how utterly dismissive of him ZZS is even as ZZS is literally being tortured by him. ZZS’s mockery and whole air of how he’s just ever so bored with all this torture is delightful. However, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE ENDING THE EPISODE THERE, SHOW. I’m going to have to wait until at least Thursday to find out what happens??? (This is d/t work schedule, which is 12-hour shifts on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, leaving no time to watch as the next eps upload, if I want to sleep).

I don’t know if this is deliberate, but when we cut to sleeping Wen Kexing near the beginning of the ep … we’ve just seen him in his very red robes as Ghost Valley master in A-Xiang’s flashbacks, and I notice that what he’s wearing now – it’s not the pinkie pink of the robe he wore to match the winter plum blossom forest, but it’s not blood red, either. It’s muted, something in-between, kind of salmon colored.

Bwahaha, dying at our two little foodies in the cave being the first ones to say “Hey, somebody’s cooking something!” Also, A-Xiang, my clever girl. You know to avoid letting Xie Wang or Zhao Jing (or Liu Qianqiao?) see you. What are you putting together in your head and coming up with about this tangled web of alliances? Also, I see you call Cao-dage over to your hiding spot. Are the two of you still there to hear the conversation between Zhao Jing and Mo Huaiyang, and how Mo Huaiyang and Zhao Jing are working together with the Scorpions and the Ghost Valley?

Last but not least, no intention to leave Jin Palace alive, ZZS? I seem to recall you telling your boyfriend, the terrifying master of the Ghost Valley, that there would be time for him to rescue you once he woke up from his nap. Is it possible you were lying so he wouldn’t feel bad? Mn. Possible. But I also remember the way you yelled at WKX over his plan to get himself killed and leave you alone, and I remember the fact that you won’t fail him, and I have to wonder if your plan really was to die, or if you’re bluffing when you say that to Prince Jin.

[oneoftheextras]

new plan | one

masterlist  | tip jar

testing an Enji fic, if you don’t like him move along, but i’m here for it

also, the quirk i’m giving the reader is cool as shit so stay for that at least

warnings: 18+ themes but no smut, Endeavour, power dynamic, slow burn

When you had applied to all the hero agencies in Musutafu you had no idea that any of them would have said yes to you, being a young upstart who had barely made a name for themselves in the last 3 years of being an independent hero, you thought you were going to receive letters telling you to get lost or no response at all.

When you’d opened your apartment mailbox to see several letters, all of them showing and interest in taking you on, you were overwhelmed. 

You had to be tactical about which one you signed with, first impressions mattered and it seemed like a no-brainer to reply to the Number One Hero’s agency.

To sign with Endeavour’s agency was like getting a level boost, their PR team was amazing at teasing new evens and making sure everyone within the agency got noticed, there wasn’t one Hero working for him that wasn’t in the top 20. 

You had called their recruitment team within 24 hours and solidified an interview with some of the higher-ups of the agency - a part of you wondered if Endeavour himself was going to be there, but he wasn’t.

But here you were. Standing at the reception of the agency, dressed in your best shirt and a pair of black trousers with very thin white lines down them, watching the blonde haired lady on the other side of the desk printing out your name tag. She looked you up and down from the side of her eye.

Hopefully not everyone here would be as cold as her, otherwise you might have to relinquish your contract early, which was never good for publicity. It made you seem non-committal and difficult.

As you waited patiently for your tiny piece of plastic to be printed, you thought over the absolute panic you had that morning, wanting to make sure you were prepared for every situation but also not wanting to seem as though you were being a suck up at the same time. You’d completely forgotten to ask during the acceptance call what the dress code was - or even if there was one.

To pay it safe you’d opted to wear normal office wear and you’d folded up your hero costume in your bag, along with some stationary and your laptop, you weren’t sure just how much of this job was going to be admin based.

“Hey, you must be the newbie!” A voice called from the elevator door, you glanced towards the sound, praying that they were talking to someone else, you really didn’t want the label of ‘newbie’. But alas, they were looking at you directly in the eyes. “Hey” you said back in a voice that attempted to be charismatic and calm, but actually came out as a timid squeak.

The woman walking towards you was very tall and beautiful, she extended her hand and introduced herself, shaking her hand as confidently as you could you did the same. At that moment, the receptionist handed you your name tag and you barely had time to thank her before you were being dragged towards the elevator.

There was some small talk between the two of you on the ride up, you had to give it to her, she was trying to be friendly at least and you had started to feel a bit more at ease with the situation. “Are you excited?” She asked you, her eyes seemed like they wanted to you answer honestly, so you did “This is my first time working for an agency, so yeah, you could say I’m excited” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Nervous?” She grimaced at you, not in a condescending way, more of an understanding and sympathetic way. “You have no idea” you breathed out and let your shoulder’s fall forward slightly, feeling as though you could confide in this person. “Oh I do” she smiled, “I was in your position once, but you’re lucky, you have a quirk so it’ll be unlikely you’ll fail the initiation” she said casually as though that didn’t send a lightening bolt of fear through your spine.

“The what?” You were unsure if you wanted to know what she was talking about but you couldn’t stop the question leaving your mouth, all she did was laugh and put her hand on your shoulder “Don’t worry about it, the worst part is meeting Endeavour, if you can get through that you can get through the rest”. It was almost like she was trying to make you freak out.

Before you could ask any more questions the elevator doors opened, “I’ll take you to him now” she gestured for you to follow her. You were happy that you’d had enough experience walking in heels, otherwise the shaking in your legs would have caused your face to become friends with the ground the moment you decided to take a step forward.

Every time you pressed your shoe into the invisible track that she was leaving, your heart rate increased by 20 beats per minute, if you didn’t know better you would think that you’re having a heart attack.

When she stopped at a oak wood door you thought you were going to vomit. Her delicate fingers tapped a gentle rhythm onto the wood and a voice from inside shouted back to enter, she went ahead and opened the door for you, announcing who you were before nodding at you to enter.

First impressions matter, first impressions matter, first impressions matter - that was all you could think of as you entered the room.

The door closed behind you and suddenly you were met with the reality of where you were and what was happening. In front of you was the Number Two Hero ‘Hawks’, leaning against a huge dark wood desk, and sitting in a black leather chair behind said desk was the Number One Hero ‘Endeavour’. Your throat was dry, you tried to swallow some saliva but it was so thick that it was no help at all.

Only a second had passed but it felt like forever before someone spoke, strangely you found it to be you “Hi” you said meekly, extending your fingers out into a tiny wave. “Hey” Hawks said, moving his chin upwards sharply in a backwards nodding motion. He seemed friendly at least.

Endeavour, however, had that same scowl on his face that he always did and his arms were folded over his chest as though he was already disapproving you. “Is that your Hero Suit?” He asked, there was no hello or introduction-not that he needed one, “Um, no” you muttered slyly, subconsciously tugging at your tucked in work shirt, “I have it in my bag though” you started to dig through your bag, rudely breaking your attention away from the two men.

“Get dressed and then go to the training centre” Endeavour waved his hand at you as a way to tell you to leave, you looked between him and Hawks unsure of what to say or do, “Yes, Sir!” You found yourself saying, bowing lowly before exiting the office.

While you were getting changed in the bathroom you couldn’t help but think over what had just happened, was that a good introduction or a bad introduction. You wanted to believe it was good, but you knew it could have gone better. You rewound the look on Hawks’ face when you’d said you weren’t in your Hero Suit already, it was a facial expression equivalent to ‘You fucked up’.

The next time you met them you had to make a big impact.

Zipping up your thigh high boots, you realised that you had spent the last 15 minutes getting changed. Following every sign and asking a few reluctant people for directions, you finally found the training centre, you stuffed your bag into a locker and opened the door to bow before you properly entered. 

When you lifted your head you could see a group of about 10 other Pro Heroes standing in a line facing Endeavour and Hawks but staring directly at you - shit, you were late.

As everyone stared at you in silence you hurriedly and confidently walked to join the line, it was strange but as soon as you had your Hero outfit on you felt like a badass, on this occasion hopefully it would help.

Once you were also standing to attention like everyone else Endeavour spoke up, “As I was saying-” you could feel eyes on you with just those four simple words, “You are here to prove that you are worthy to be associated to my name, being here today does not mean you work for me - just because you are Pro Heroes does not mean you are actual Heroes” he was blunt and mean, everything that you thought he would be.

“There are 10 of you here today, by the end of this week there will only be 2 remaining” he said dramatically, he continued to talk but you were distracted by Hawks leaning into you and speaking up “That’s your Hero outfit?” His tone was disapprovingly, “Yes!” You whispered out loudly.

It was just a plain black one piece with thigh-high heeled boots, you couldn’t afford for someone to design and make you a costume like all the big time Pros.

“First phase, we will be having a Battle Royale of sorts” Hawks shouted out to everyone, startling you considering how close he was to you. “There are no rules, when we say ‘Go’ attack, defend or retreat however you want - the last 5 still standing will progress” was the only brief explanation you were given.

“Go!” Endeavour shouted, immediately everyone ran to their battle stations.

[evengayerpanic]

Death Precedes Life [One-Shot]

When death comes for her, she greets it like an old friend - no, she greets it like a lover. With a smile, with a fluttering of her heart, with nothing but peace.

She’s been back at Bly for three months, ever since she fell from a ladder while pruning and broke a hip. 

It was the only natural place to go, she decided, as she felt the cold icy fingers of tomorrow brush over her wrist while she lay in hospital for almost a week.

While recovering, she had called Flora, who in turn called Miles and the two of them had set it all up.

Bly still remained in the family, though none of them had stepped foot in the building for over forty years, and so it hadn’t been hard for the two children (though they were hardly children at forty-eight and fifty years, respectively) to make the arrangements.

Miles had hired a live-in nursemaid, and Flora, whom lived a few hours away, left her family each weekend to care for her oldest friend until the nurse returned each Sunday evening to resume her patients care.

The Gardener lived back at Bly for three months; and much like the Lady of the Lake, the Gardener too followed a particular routine as she lived day by day. 

She would sleep; in the room that had been her dearest loves, she would lay her head to rest each night and pray to slip away, to return home to 1987.

She would wake; alone and cold in the bed, the thought of the Au Pair slowly fading from her mind as the nurse entered her room to help her ready the day.

She would walk; through the grounds of Bly, the memories coming and going of every single place her lover had touched, greenhouse, forest, kitchens and more. The only place she did not walk, was to the lake, for the possibility of seeing her loves body, what remained of it, haunted her waking dreams.

And she would wait; each day, each night, Jamie would wait to see her beloved again, to be claimed by death and find her way back to the arms of her Dani.

She would sleep.

She would wake.

She would walk.

And she would wait.

Until the day Jamie didn’t need to wait anymore.

It was a Saturday morning. Her nurse had just left for the weekend, and Flora had been running late due to her daughter having an early morning dance practice that her husband hadn’t been available to take her too. It was only a few hours, but hours were enough.

Flora had arrived to find Bly empty.

Jamie was not in the kitchen, drinking a cup of awful tea that Flora always teased her for making so horribly when she knew how to make a proper cuppa.

Jamie was not in her room, nor the parlour, nor her gardens, reminiscing about the past that Flora had unfortunately almost forgotten entirely.

Flora found Jamie by the lake, sitting on the ground and staring at the water with tears in her eyes.

“It’s almost time for her to come get me.”

Flora had begged and pleaded for her dear friend to come inside, to come where it was warm and comfortable, but even as the cold ground seeped into her pajamas, she still would not move from the lake.

“I can’t leave... Not until she comes.”

It was noon when Flora called Miles, voice wracked with sobs. “It’s time... You need to come home.”

He arrived shortly after dinner, finding his sister wrapped in a sweater, sitting beside a blanket draped Jamie, the two of them having not left the ground.

“Come inside, you’ll catch pneumonia.” He demanded of the woman who had once chased him around her gardens, clucking mad after he trampled her peonies.

“Your back probably hurts, lets get you in a comfortable chair inside.” He encouraged the woman who had once plucked him up off the ground and nursed his bloodied knee back to health when he had fallen from his bike as a child and scraped himself on the rough cobblestone, reminding him the whole time that he cried of how tough he was.

“Please don’t leave us yet.” He begged of the woman who had once been his family, who had cared for him and his sister, even if they did pick her roses and shook ladders from underneath her.

But she wouldn’t listen.

And so, Miles and Flora sat beside her in front of the lake for hours, just staring until the moon came out and the night went quiet, and Jamie, their gardener, their friend closed her eyes for the last time.

When Flora noticed that Jamie had stopped moving, stopped speaking, a soft cry had spilled over her lips as she cried out in a dull pain for her brother, “Miles.”

“I know.” He breathed out, his breath hitching as he too noticed that she had slipped away in the night.

The boy and the girl, no longer children, carried the Gardener back to Bly; carefully, gingerly, just like she had done once for a shell-shocked and grieving young Flora over forty years ago one fateful morning.

They brought her to her bed, laid her down, and cried for the memories that they remembered, and for the memories that they didn’t remember as well

_________________ 

Jamie remained at the lake, no, not physically remained, but with everything else that mattered

She remained by the water until she saw the lake begin to ripple and part, something coming out of the surface... no, not something, not someone.

The Lady of the Lake. Dani. Came to the surface.

And so she greets death; with a smile, with a fluttering of her heart, with a sprint and a hug and a kiss and a cry of, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve waited so long to hold you again.” Dani responds, clinging to Jamie tightly, a sigh of relief and happiness runs through one and out the other connecting them.

“I’m sorry that it took me so lon-” Jamie starts but is cut off by her love’s lips, Dani doesn’t care how long it’s taken, she just cares that she’s there.

“Long is good. Long means that you lived.”

And lived she has, Jamie has seen so much that Dani never got to experience... at least not physically.

She recounts watching Flora graduate, seeing Miles take over his Uncle’s business, a first row seat to Flora’s marriage to her beloved, being the one Miles called first when he got his heart broken, holding Flora’s first child, and second, and third. She has lived for all that Dani could not, it was her lifelong promise.

It’s through the twinkle of Dani’s eye that Jamie knows she’s seen it all too, if slightly differently than her.

They hold each other, heads pressed together, hands linked until Dani says the words Jamie has waited thirty years to hear. “Do you want to go home?”

She says yes.

And as it turns out, home is exactly where Jamie thought it would be. They enter the doors of Bly and it’s like time has been rewound through four decades.

The modern effects, like flat screen televisions and cordless phones have disappeared. The old furnishings have returned, and the smell of Owen’s cooking, and as Dani and Jamie enter the kitchen, they are far from alone, the smiles of their family lighting the room and welcoming them back home.

Henry is not there; for Henry Wingrave, whom died a decade earlier, his home is not the walls of Bly, at least, not the year that they are there. His home is with Charlotte and Dominic, in a time where he still has the woman he loves, and his brother still cares for him. He spends his days there. They never see him, but they know he is happy and that is all that matters.

Miles and Flora never come back to them either. Years down the line, when Miles dies an old man in his wife’s arms, he is welcomed home by his parents, by his Uncle, and eventually his own wife. His home is with them instead, in a time that never existed, but they know he is happy and that is all that matters.

Flora does come back to them, if only briefly, she returns as a child and runs through the manor, her exuberance warming each of the family members that the Manor claimed. They smile even as she leaves, joining her husband and her own children as they pass after her. She’s there for what feels like only a moment, then gone, but they know she is happy, and once again... that is all that matters.

Home for Jamie never goes away though.

Her and Dani spend the rest of eternity in Bly; with Owen, with Hannah, with Rebecca, with each other.

They sleep; wrapped in each other’s arms every night, sometimes they do more than sleep, neither one getting older or changing, just remaining the way they always should have been.

They wake; to greet the day, to taste Owen’s cooking, to reminisce with Hannah, to talk with Rebecca. The days never get monotonous, home never should, and this is home... this is family.

They walk; revisiting themselves in the greenhouse, what could have happened if they had never been interrupted, revisiting the moon flower and it never dying no matter how many nights pass.

They wait; for the shoe to drop, for eternity to be over, for something to go wrong because all any of them have known is that something can always lurk in the darkness, to take you from your love, from your life.

But eternity never ends, family never ends, home never ends, they all remain in exactly the way that they should have always been.

Rebecca.

Hannah.

Dani.

Owen.

And lastly, Jamie.

Vibrant. Full of Life. Happy.

Together.

[keiths3dart]

Max in The Black Lodge: a Life is Strange / Twin Peaks Crossover.

Part 3.

The thing most casual viewers don't realise about Chloe Price is just how vulnerable she is. For years she's projected this rebellious, 'Hella Gay, Fuck You’ attitude. Drink, drugs, sex, familial discord, flunking school, limited social circle, Chloe embraced the lot. Every self destructive impulse leapt upon with gusto.

It was all a front, Chloe's big secret was the fact that she's a sweet, funny, loving, and decent girl living to be loved. Whose father was taken from her. Whose best friend moved away and indeed moved on. Whose first love cheated on her (and with a man of all things!), then left. Who basically circled the emotional wagons and held the world at bay with a snarl and a defiant middle finger. Her demeanour, borne of feelings of abandonment and loneliness becoming a self fulfilling and self sustaining state of permanent friction and conflict in her life.

Well that was until Max came back into it. Until Max saved it. Numerous times. At a horrendous hidden psychological cost Max had still to face the bill for. Until Max peeled back the layers of hurt Chloe had padded her bruised heart with, letting the real Chloe shine back through, something Chloe had never allowed to happen, not since Rachel. Maybe not even with Rachel, maybe she'd even played up those traits since it seemed to be received positively by the volatile blonde.

And now Chloe finds herself in a remote woodland clearing looking down at Max's shoulder bag, abandoned on the ground next to the final forlorn dying embers of a small campfire.

She knows exactly how it feels.

Chloe was drained of everything, she felt like an empty shell just standing there in the clearing, unable to think. Her every fibre felt like it was plummeting into an infinitely dark abyss, dragging her thoughts with her.

Max had gone again. The love she had let back into her heart felt like it had been torn straight out of her chest. She felt so, just So. Fucking. Alone. Again.

As Chloe stood in the clearing trembling in dismay, Deputy Bobby Briggs scouted around the fringes of the clearing, looking for any signs of where Max had exited the clearing and what direction she had gone. His companion, the big Nez-Pence tribesman Deputy Hawk was poking about in the fire. His weathered face was grave.

Hawk was concerned. He knew this clearing. This place was known in his tribal legend, this had been the destination Agent Dale Cooper uncovered in his investigations into the greater mysteries unearthed by the Laura Palmer case. Cooper had disappeared at this very spot and had later returned. Different. Then, abruptly, he had left and no-one knew where. Even his superiors at the FBI had no idea. They'd been in Twin Peaks several years ago asking questions about Cooper, Gordon Cole and the other one, that insufferable little shit Albert Rosenthal.

Hawk looked at his partner with sadness. Poor Bobby, his father Major Briggs had disappeared too a few years later. Again on this very spot. Bobby continued to comb the perimeter but Hawk knew he would not find an exit trail. The darkening shadow on his heart told him that Max too had departed this earth for… The Other Place. Whatever the hell that was. The question was, would Max return like Cooper had? Or would her friend Chloe have to live with the loss and uncertainty of Max remaining missing. Hawk had seen how it had affected Bobby, and Bobby had not had the best of relations with his father. Hawk looked to Chloe now, his experienced eye could see she was on the verge of emotional collapse. Perhaps she too felt that sinking dread that seeped from the very ground of this supernatural place.

This was going to be a difficult conversation. Hawk knew he needed to talk to Chloe. Needed to say Something at least. But all his years of police experience couldn't provide more than a number of carefully nuanced platitudes he knew Chloe would see through in a second. Then go in to complete meltdown.

What could he do though? The truth of the matter, absolutely preposterous though it seemed was: that her friend Max had been taken from this place to, some other world/reality/dimension by persons/beings unknown for the purposes of fuck only knows and may / may not return at some undisclosed point in the future and may / may not be a barking mad murderous psychopath when they do.

“Fuck that” thought Hawk and Opted instead to use the hollow platitudes from the Crisis Response Management course Harry had sent him on when he made Deputy Chief.

“Chloe…” he began before he sensed something. A change in the air like static electricity or…

The whole of space and time exploded at once, spinning off in an infinite number of directions at once, the whole of creation in one spiralling maelstrom of light, sound, and sensation. Right in front of deputy Hawk.

But it was the sudden knee to the face that took the big man down.

Max was feeling dreamy, she'd lost herself in the soporific rhythm of the gentle shuffle beat for a moment. Or had it been hours?

This thought brought Max back to her senses. Her environment had been acting on her like a drug, lowering her alertness, subtly sedating her mind.

“That Food-Eater Jefferson must love it in here” Max thought venomously.

Almost on cue, like he'd been summoned by the very thought of his name, the head of Mark Jefferson turned to face Max.

“OLLEH XAM!” he said in that eerie style the inhabitants of this room used.

Max felt like recoiling from that gaze. Bad memories. But Max had grown to be made of sterner stuff. She would NOT let that scumbag have power over her. So she held the gaze, pouring all of her rage and loathing into that gaze. A gaze that would have reduced Chloe to ashes, would have sent Chuck Norris fleeing in panic to the florist to get something to apologize with, fell in vain upon the impassive face of Mark Jefferson as he now began to rise from his seat.

“I DLUOC ERUTPAC UOY NI A TNEMOM” he intoned, framing Max with his hands, like an imaginary camera.

Max had heard this particular speech before, and she began to edge away from Jefferson and the little man who now sat next to him, watching the whole exchange with amusement.

Suddenly the air was rend by a piercing scream. Max span round to see Rachel Amber, leaning forward in her chair, her face contorted in rage letting out this ungodly screech.

It stopped Mark Jefferson in his tracks.

“ON! OUY T’NOD TEG OT EVAH REH.” Rachel's voice sounded harsh and bitter and Max watched on as Rachel thrust forward her right hand towards a suddenly terrified Jefferson.

“”ESAELP, ON” he whined.

“ERIF! KLAW HTIW EM!” Rachel spat, as Jefferson, chair and all was consumed by a pillar of fire.

The little Man began to laugh and clap his hands again.

That was it for Max. Wherever she was, it was time to leave. And Rachel was coming with her.

“Rachel, let's get out of here” she said, grabbing Rachel by the arm.

Rachel looked up at her uncertainly.

“EREHT SI ON YAW TUO” the little man said solemnly.

“Mm m Max?” It was Rachel. Her voice hesitant but normal.

“Come on, we need to get back to Chloe” Max urged, pulling the bewildered blonde to her feet.

“Chloe? Yes. Chloe. Must get back to Chloe” Rachel mumbled, still appearing dazed and lost. Like someone abruptly woken from a very deep sleep.

“EREHT SI ON YAW TUO” the little man repeated. He looked to the two girls, a look of almost pity in his big eyes. “M’I YRROS”.

But still they ran. Through red draped, tile floored corridor after red draped, tile floored corridor. Every single one the same, every single one emerging back into the same room. The little man still sat. Watching on sadly.

Eventually Max collapsed to her knees in defeat. The little man was right. There was no way out. She was stuck here. Forever. Never to see her Chloe again. She wished she'd never come to this place. She'd managed to find Rachel only to share her fate. She wished she'd never… A desperate idea came to Max, she'd kept items with her when she'd rewound before, would it work with a human being? Was there any other option?

“Rachel, hold me tight and don't let go”.

“Jesus Max, is now the time?”

“You know what I mean” Max said, grabbing Rachel around the waist. “Now to rewind as far as possible, and please God get us both back to the woods and Chloe" Max thought as she reached forward to channel her strange power.

Suddenly, the little man jumped up in alarm, his eyes wide with fear.

“T’NOD ESU TAHT EREH!!!” He cried almost hysterically but it was too late.

Max had never thought there could be pain like the pain she felt. Searing up her arm and into her chest. And her head, her head felt like molten metal was being poured into it. Max was almost delirious with pain, everything was a strobing kaleidoscope of colour, she could no longer see the red Room. She couldn't see when she was going and she couldn't stop. But she could feel the weight of Rachel clutching at her, until the moment it all went black. The moment Max couldn't feel Rachel anymore. The moment Max couldn't feel anything anymore. There was only the black.

And then not even that.

The sudden change in the air had brought Chloe back to her senses. She looked up just in time to see it. The thing she could never describe. The thing deputy Hawk would never forget.

And then the two bodies came, flung out of the light as though they'd been spat out like used chewing gum. Rachel Amber and Max Caulfield. Rachel's knee catching the poor deputy chief square in the face knocking him down. Rachel was awake and trying to get up, holding her knee in pain.

Max lay still in a crumpled pile, like a discarded marionette.

Chloe didn't know what to do. She was so shocked by a succession of things that had just happened she just stood there wide eyed with shock.

Deputy Briggs had been caught unsighted by the whole thing, having been scanning the ground for traces of footprints. Suddenly the ground was lit as bright as day and there was a sharp crack followed by some dull thuds. He span round, automatically drawing his service revolver.

Rachel hit the ground in a heap, her knee throbbing having struck something on the way down. She felt like hammered shit and could barely adapt to the gloom after so long in the Red Room. She could just make out the fuzzy outline of Max lying in front of her and made to crawl towards her.

Max lay in a foetal position, her breathing was shallow, her chest barely moving, eyes closed. She might almost be asleep.

Hawk raised himself up into a sitting position, the right side of his face beginning to swell after the impact with Rachel's knee but the reason Hawk's head was spinning was due to the intense visions he'd seen when the gateway between worlds opened in front of him.

Chloe could see Rachel leaning over Max and it galvanized her into action. She dropped to her knees beside her two friends, joining Rachel in checking on the inert Max.

“Max? Max?” Chloe quavered, gently shaking her to no avail.

“She's breathing” Rachel was able to confirm.

No response from Max, she remained unconscious though reassuringly still alive. Rachel rolled to her side and tried to clear her head. Her vision was still fuzzy.

Chloe knelt, Max's head cradled in her lap, gently stroking her face. Tears dropped from her cheek and splashed onto Max's face. Chloe wiped them away with concern

“Shit, sorry Max”.

Bobby had holstered his weapon and checked on Hawk, the big man seemed a bit shook up but otherwise ok. Now he had to take charge of the situation, it looked like one of the girls was hurt. They'd need to get back out of the woods quickly. Time was of the essence, and the hospital in Twin Peaks was a long hike and a bumpy ride away.

“We need to get her back to town” he said, placing a hand on Chloe's shoulder. “Are you ok? Can you walk?” He added towards Rachel.

Rachel simply nodded in affirmative and unsteadily began to get to her feet. Bobby moved to help Chloe with Max.

“No, leave her. I've got her” Chloe sobbed, recoiling from Bobby.

Deputy Hawk had made it to his feet and was on the radio to the sheriff. An ambulance had been summoned and would meet them at the road end.

Chloe lifted Max out of the nest of pine needles. She felt so light, so fragile. How could something so fundamentally central to her life feel so insubstantial in her arms?

And thus the procession made their way down from the Ghost wood. Bobby took the lead followed by the still woozy Hawk. Chloe came next with Max and Rachel Amber brought up the rear, her head rapidly clearing, now just feeling bone tired.

“Don't worry my love, everything is going to be fine” Chloe cooed to the unconscious Max.

Behind them, a strange flicker danced in the eyes of Rachel for a moment before it was gone.