#i'll give some more details later but here's the bare bones

[merp-blerp]

My Gaylor Journey: A Year Later 🌈

So, I posted about my Gaylor opinions a year ago today, my first (intentional) post about Gaylor after properly looking into the community for the first time and eventually joining it. I can't believe it's been that long, Jesus! Feels both too long and yet too short of a time. Well, I want to commemorate that; hopefully, I'll make sense, as there's so much I feel and want to say. I don't think I'll ever truly get it all out of me. But here:

I've enjoyed my time here so much! This period has been surprisingly influential for me. For one thing, I've gained some lovely mutuals! I've never had so many before, so it's new, but I enjoy you all. You guys are so kind, smart, and welcoming!

I've also learned so much about queerness, the queer experience, and queer history that I just never would've known before. And I was already very into queer history before. I adore how I listen to Taylor's music now. "Wrong" interpretation or not, looking at her music from a queer lens is so interesting and so easy. I had looked at it from a queer perspective before, but it was more through my eyes. How could this song relate to me and my queerness? Never in regards to the possibility of Taylor's. It's crazy to remember being younger, listening to her music, and getting queer vibes, but assuming I was projecting. Nice to know I was never alone in my thoughts. Looking at the potential real muses is fun, but just daring to look at things another way has been fulfilling alone. I had no clue I could get more connected with Taylor's work, but somehow this community has proven me wrong.

Being here has also saved me from a lot of worrying probably. The Swiftie community since Joe ended whatever he had with Taylor has been very much so changed since I discovered it in 2018, so while I have nothing against nice Swifties, I'm glad I mostly stick to the Gaylor side of things these days. This fandom's less crowded and I like experiencing Tay's art this way. Being a fan shouldn't feel so crazy. Not too long ago, I was having a conversation with one of my college mentors, who's a Swiftie, the day after TTPD was announced, I believe. We were both excited and I spouted out several watered-down versions of Gaylor theories (can never be too careful who you Gaylor in front of), cutting out the gay parts, and what I thought they meant for what TTPD was expected to be; theories like the burning lover house symbolizing "a new phase of her career" starting with TTPD, or white symbolizing rebirth, blah, blah, you know. And absolutely no offense to my mentor, she's lovely, but I was a bit gobsmacked when her theories only had to do with Joe. It was so... bare-bones. Dry. Boring. Don't you wonder what this means for Taylor herself, not just some boy she may or may not be dunking on? She also had so much seemingly incorrect info about the Toe narrative, saying Joe has a music career (he doesn't???) and that Taylor herself confirmed, word of mouth, that she cheated on Joe, which definitely would not be very characteristically "cryptic and Machiavellian" of her to just confirm like that. Just saying it would not be how she tells us a detail like that. I didn't realize people truly thought she cheated till that conversation. They were just very hard to believe things, whether or not you believe in Gaylor or mainstream narratives. She said a lot of her theories came from TikTok, so misinformation isn't shocking in the slightest; people rarely give good sources over there, so if you find someone who does they seem to be a needle in a haystack, sadly. But that conversation reminded me just how much things have changed, both in me and the fandom. Having fresh relationship drama for the first time in 6 years made some Swifties feral and I'm glad I'm not in it. Getting swept up in that shit is easy and I fear I could've if it weren't for jumping ship in time. As Taylor's signaling gets louder and louder again, possibly gearing up for another coming-out attempt, I think I joined just in time. The goddess of timing found me beguiling, I guess.

It just makes me sad that for these types of fans, Taylor's music and craft aren't about her anymore, but about the guys. It's so weird to see fans introduce new Swifties by going over all the supposed muses instead of talking about her and how this song or album communicates her emotions about a situation. They are deeply missing out. Even when I was only in the general fandom, despite my jokes about the boys, I ultimately thought Taylor was the most important factor in her songs. And it seemed like others thought that too, until all this new Joe-Travis-drama eclipsed that. Or till some bad new fans came in just for the drama and to hop on the more trendy version of "loving" her that's going on now. Or maybe I was in my own bubble and it's always been like this. She was never simply "Mrs. Alwyn" and she's not "Mrs. Kelce" or even "Mrs. Kloss" and it's strange to see her get called that as if she's not TAYLOR FUCKING SWIFT. That's not enough? Maybe I'm taking it too seriously or literally, but it feels so wrong to boil her down to just that. I get where it comes from, Taylor's music appeals to the hopeless romantics such as myself, but there's more to Taylor, us, and life than just romance and being someone's "spouse".

Many Swifties rightfully criticize the media for only focusing on Taylor's alleged love life, but some of them hypocritically do the exact same thing, only I'd argue it's worse because they seem to think they're entitled to do so because they're fans or feel like her friends. We don't know Taylor. I don't know Taylor. If she's openly talking about her album(s)/re-record(s) and the craft behind creating it, or her emotional journey creating it, maybe don't yell out to her face about some trivial thing connecting to whoever you think the muse is (looking at you TIFF 2022—I'll never be over that). I'm glad Taylor seems to recognize this behavior and has at least tried to remind fans of the distance between herself and them in recent years; I mean, compare the songs she wrote for fans years ago like "Long Live" and "The Archer" vs "Dear Reader" and potentially "You're Losing me" and "But Daddy I Love Him" if you interpret them that way. They're all wonderful, but more recent songs remind us that she's a stranger to us as opposed to just talking about how grateful she is for us (which I'm sure she still is). I've mentioned in the past that I think this is part of why the TV eras beyond the Red TV era and promo for TTPD have been so laid back in comparison; she doesn't want fans getting way too into "defending" her from [insert "ex-boyfriend" here] like they did during Red TV's release, so she's making it less "exciting". 1989 TV didn't even get music videos. She's never dignified invasive questions with a response to interviewers, so why would she for some fan(s)? You aren't any more special or any less of a stranger to her than those interviewers were. None of us are, including Gaylors (that's why we can't out her, strangers can't out strangers with only pure speculation).

I find it interesting to see how differently the two sides of this fandom treat the potential ex-muses of songs. In the general fandom, there's a lot of animosity, where swifties love to joke about hating or destroying whomever (and I'm chill with jokes), but sometimes it goes way too far. Many Swifties hate most potential exes, exceptions being people like Harry Styles or Taylor Lautner because they have their own fandoms that tend to overlap with Taylor's. But Gaylors rarely do the exact same with exes. Potential exes aren't brought up unless necessary and I've never seen anyone even jokingly hate anyone purely because they are an ex and therefore bad; it might be around, but the fact that I can't find it nearly as easily is something. We'll hold ex-muses (and Taylor) accountable for potential mishaps in past relationships and that's it. Say what you will about Gaylors, but I've never heard of any Gaylors sending someone like Dianna Agron death threats like some Swifties have done with John Mayer.

One huge thing I was not expecting when joining this fandom was becoming slightly disillusioned by the Swiftie title. Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with being called that, as I know that's what I am ultimately and it's not terrible to be a Swiftie inherently by any means. But being opened up to the deep homophobia, bullying, and even doxxing in the Hetlor community has really made me feel odd lumping myself in with "Swifties", as they still call themselves, at times. I don't know how I never stumbled across it when in the general fandom, at least not that I can recall (I feel like I would if I did). From what I gather, Swifties have a rep for being a pretty sweet fandom, and many people are, but I can't help but feel sour about it sometimes after seeing what I've seen from some Swifties. I hope one day the homophobia and just basic vitriol with these types of fans can be lightened up by a cultural shift or something. Way too many people are unaware of the layers of the conversation about outing, closeting, speculation, etc. I myself wasn't before entering the Gaylor fandom and I'm glad I am now. I knew lots of history, but didn't properly apply it to how we can see things now. It's very odd, almost embarrassing, looking at some of my old Swiftie posts now, especially ones about Joe and Gaylors, because I don't feel that way anymore. I was never hateful, but I had some wrong ideas. I guess I'll keep them up though, in order to be honest with myself and anyone who wants to maybe dig into my blog. Plus there's not actually anything to be too embarrassed about from what I remember, it's just a very "in my head" type of thing. I'm glad I'm not as emotionally invested in Taylor's supposed exes anymore. Even when it comes to Karlie as an LSK, I'd be fine if Kaylor was broken up or never together. Surprised and maybe a little sad, but I expect to be okay if that were to be a revelation. It feels much healthier.

I even suspect that being here has helped me with accepting my own queerness further, and I thought I had fully done that already. I guess internal acceptance is a forever journey, at least for me. I came out to my grandparents mid last year and early this year, something I was planning on delaying till I went away to college (I'm doing college virtually for now). I think this community helped me.

I deeply wish that both sides of Taylor's fandom could come together, hear each other, and co-exist. I hate that Gaylors are so vilified for simply suggesting a random lady might be queer as if seeing potential hints of queerness in other people and pondering their sexuality hasn't always existed in queer culture and continues to prevail. We still see primarily femme sapphics ask how they can signal that they're queer without saying so, much like what Taylor might be doing with her hairpins and games. Why is it wrong to be on the other end of that interaction, seeing and acknowledging the signals? In my personal opinion, I think it's at least a bit homophobic in and of itself to say that queer people must come out in a loud, upfront, obvious-to-straights way in order to be seen as queer, otherwise they are forcibly slated as the default of straight. Yes, some people have a boundary about speculation, and that should 100% be respected for those folks, but Taylor specifically has set no such boundary as of me typing this out. Why still force her into the straight box when she's never plainly said she's straight, always toeing the line no pun intended, not giving any clear answers for now, which she doesn't owe. Honestly, I feel like it's more likely that if she were straight she would have such an issue saying plainly; straight people don't coyly tiptoe around saying they're straight like that, but that's just my perspective. When the discourse around speculation is brought up, I often see people say something along the lines of, "Well, I wouldn't want someone to speculate on me," and that's completely fine to feel, but that's your boundary. Not everyone feels that way. Some want to be seen without a definitive word out of their mouth beforehand. This is coming from someone who, when offline, sometimes gets a bit internally antsy when people inform me they could tell my lesbian-ness with or without me intending to signal, though not offended. Yet I also sometimes hate to tell people in verbal words. It can be exhausting, not in just a scary way, but in the sense that it can be akin to explaining that you breathe; being queer just comes so naturally for me because it is natural, so explaining gets tiresome, especially since straights never have to. For me, and in general, speculation is not as black and white as "you should never do it" or "you should always do it". You shouldn't cross people's boundaries, but you shouldn't assume people's boundaries either; that can be just as wrong and dangerous.

Gaylors and Swifties are the same fandom, so why can't we act like it, even when we disagree?

Everyone and everything I've involved myself in here has been so enriching and even if all the Gaylor theories were somehow proven wrong, I wouldn't regret my time here. It's meant too much to me. I'm very grateful and excited to see how this progresses for me. I can't find enough words to express it.

To any rude Hetlors out there, I hope you find it in your heart to treat others with kindness instead of throwing shade at those you simply don't understand/agree with. If you're going to hurt others, I don't want anything to do with you. Kindly leave for both our peace of mind.

To the vast majority of you who have been wonderful, welcoming, and kind, especially the ones who were here before I entered the Gaylor fandom, and didn't leave after, I love you all. You can stay. ♥

🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[themangledsans0508]

Witches vs Humans

Read on Ao3

Summary:

Amity has always been top of her class, not by a lack of effort. Constantly doing extra credit. Then her health class gave her the opportunity to hit three birds with one stone.

Get extra credit

Learn more about human biology

Hang out with her crush

Words: 1609, Oneshot

Warnings: None

Characters: Amity Blight, Luz Noceda

Ships: Lumity

Additional Tags: Human Biology, Witch Biology, girls doing extra credit, Gay Disaster Amity Blight, talk about biological sex, accurate to the best of my knowledge, Pre-Relationship

"At least you guys have a better health class than we do back home," Luz commented. 

"They don't teach you guys basic anatomy?" Amity asked with a raised eyebrow. Luz shook her head.

"They barely teach us about the reproductive system and gross stuff like that." She flipped to another page of her textbook. "Most of it is wrong anyways. Like, I only read fanfiction and I know it's wrong. The rest of our bodies haven't really been mentioned since fourth grade. And even then all it was about was how many bones are in our body and what our stomach, heart, and lungs do. We never really talked about any other organs or what our muscles do or anything. Here everything is so detailed." 

"So you don't know how your body works?" 

"No, I do know. Kind of, at least. Not everything but enough to know that the school is wrong." Amity looked at the papers she had set beside her.

"Well, for extra credit you can do a report on a being with a different anatomy than you. And if it's okay with you I'd like to do you. Not because I'm curious or anything just because it would be really unique," she said quickly.

"Only if I can do you," Luz bargained.

"Deal." Amity ran her finger under the words and read them out loud quietly to herself. "Species name, sex, external appearance, limbs, type of vertebrae, organs, manner of movement, diet, hot or cold-blooded, differences from my species, other notes, and space for a drawing."

"That's a lot of work for some extra credit," Luz observed.

"Eh, it's actually not much compared to what I had to do for history class one time," Amity replied. "Do you have a paper? I might have a spare."

"I have one actually. I was going to bribe King to let me do him." She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a paper identical to Amity's.

"Oh, if you want to do it on him it's okay-"

"No! No, it's okay. I'm pretty curious about witches too. So, where do you want to start? Do you want to draw me? I'll do a pose!" Amity shook her head rapidly, her cheeks a furious shade of red at the idea.

"No, no, no, no. I can do that later it's fine. I guess I'll just ask you some things. Like how are your eyes different than mine?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can see those glyphs. When you showed me that video of Eda casting a light spell, I didn't see anything. I can only see them when you draw them."

"As far as I know my eyes are exactly like yours. Maybe it's because I'm human and that's the only way I can do magic. Maybe the Boiling Isles can just sense that. But then how could I see it on my phone… I don't know actually. I'll go with no but don't quote me on that."

"It looks like most of our features are the same, at least on the outside. Besides our ears and hands," Amity stated.

"Wait, our hands? What's different? Give me your hand." Luz quickly grabbed Amity's hand and pulled it up to her face to look at it closely.

"M-my fingers are longer, along with my nails. It's true for all witches. It's for magic because we use our hands for it and our fingers are really the way we cast spells." Luz released her and scribbled something down. Amity held her hand to her chest and tried to keep herself composed.

"What about your ears? Why are they pointed?" Luz reached out to touch them before jerking her hand back when Amity jumped. "Sorry, I should've asked first.'

"It's fine," Amity decided after a few seconds.

"Fine that I didn't ask or fine that I touch?"

"Both." Luz carefully held the pointed tip of Amity's ear in between her fingers. Besides being pointed, it was exactly like hers, maybe a little softer. "I don't know why it's like that. Kind of a little weird I guess, but it could be so that it's possible to tell the difference between witches and humans. Or maybe it's because we're more sensitive to noise." Luz wrote a couple more things down.

"Can they move?" Amity nodded.

"Yeah, but I don't decide when. Some witches can make their ears move whenever they want, but for the rest of us, our ears only move to indicate our emotions or when we hear something. Can human ears move?"

"Yes and no." Luz made a triangle with her hands. "A few people can. Like, ten or twenty percent of humans. I can't. Also, they don't move like yours do. They just kind of wiggle a tiny bit. It's still pretty cool though, but your ears are cooler." Amity's cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Well, human ears are neat I guess," she mumbled.

"Oh, oh! Above your ears! Your hair! Before I forget I wanna ask you about witch hair! Can witch hair come in any colour? I've seen witches with human hair colours, but then I've seen witches with green hair, blue hair, pink hair, purple hair, I don't know if it's natural but if it is-"

"It's natural," Amity interrupted. "At least, for most witches it is. As far as I know, it can come in any colour." Luz pointed at her hair.

"Is your hair naturally brown, or green, or both, or was it brown and now it's green?" Amity ran her fingers through her hair self-consciously.

"It's brown. I dye it green because the rest of my family has green hair." She straightened her back. "Doesn't human hair come in any colour?"

"No. Human hair is naturally blonde, brown, black, red, or orangish. People dye their hair for fun. I've dyed mine before, I might still have an old picture I could show you sometime, but after my hair grew out and I cut it I decided I wanted to stick with brown for a bit."

"Is human hair the same as witch hair?"

"Probably. Wanna find out?" Amity reached her hand out, then pulled it back, then reached out again. "You can touch my hair, it's fine." Amity put her hand on the side of Luz's head. She kept it there for a few moments then took it back. She started scribbling something down and Luz shifted positions, folding her legs underneath herself and clasping her hands in her lap. "Could I touch your hair?"

"Huh? Oh, sure." She batted her hair lightly and giggled.

"I feel like a cat."

"You might be one."

"My sweatshirt agrees." She held her hand in place and ran her thumb over the surface of her hair. "Our hair is the same."

"As far as I can tell. Maybe you could use some of the things you learned in alchemy to make sure."

"I could, or I could check if the library has anything on witch versus human biology."

"That would kind of make everything we're doing now redundant." 

"More information doesn't make previous information redundant," Luz argued. "Okay, that's outward appearances done. This is going to be the hard part. Do you have different organs than me besides the magic thing on your heart?" Amity looked at her for a few moments.

"I don't... exactly know what you have for organs?"

"Oh, right. Well, I can sketch something quickly. Here." She flipped over the paper and drew an outline of a person. "Our heart is here, sans magic sac. Then we have our stomach here, then our lungs up here…" she drew each small part of the body with Amity overlooking and sketching down some rough copies in her notes.

"If that is what your organs are like, then yeah I think so. Except we also have another set of veins. Not technically an organ but that's beside the point."

"Really? For what?" Luz asked.

"For magic, duh," she laughed. She looked at her paper one more time and paused. "I'm sorry for having to ask this, but what's your sex?"

"Biologically female. I guess I have to ask yours too?"

"Same." 

"Okay, obviously bipedal, mammal, wait are witches mammals?"

"Yes, and warm-blooded," Amity explained. 

"What's your diet? Like, vegan, vegetarian, gluten-free, something else?" 

"I don't really have a choice, I'm an omnivore. What about you?"

"I'm also an omnivore, although I have tried some other diets in the past."

"I think that's everything, I just need to draw a model. Hang on, do you know how to cast a layer spell?" Amity questioned. Luz shook her head. 

Amity drew a few overlapping circles that were different shades. She quickly cast a spell and two of the circles flew above the paper slightly, one going a little higher than the other. Luz leaned forward and looked in between the circles. She turned her head to change angles a few times before smiling widely and drawing out one of her circles. She drew three lines above one another and then a diagonal line over those. She pressed it and the ink on the paper layered itself as Amity's had. She gave Amity a quick hug.

"New spell! What gave you the idea?" She asked, keeping her hands on Amity's shoulders.

"Well, to draw the model you need a layer spell to do the organs, then bone structure, then a normal drawing," Amity explained.

"This opens up a whole new world for art. I gotta go home, I'll see you tomorrow, Amity!" Luz haphazardly gathered her papers and hurried away, leaving Amity alone with a warm feeling in her heart.

[ajcgames]

Smashing

I got a good bit of development time in since the last update. There's a bunch to unpack, so let's start off with a video that shows what's new.

A lot to cover here!

Pulverizer

A replacement for the first 'work machine', and the first proper machine you'll likely place in your factory. As you can guess, the pulverizer breaks down raw minerals into processed components. In the video, you can see it turning the small rocks into containers of granulated product.

Machine indicator lights

The machines you place down now have indicator lights. You can see this on the front of the excavator and the top of the pulverizer. These are unified and share the same meaning across all machines. RED = an input is not connected. YELLOW = the machine is unable to work, usually due to a blocked output slot. GREEN = the machine is busy working, all is well!

Camera movement updates

I added a somewhat superfluous zoomed-in mode to the camera, mostly for the sake of giving you the opportunity to get in close to the action. There's a more zoomed-out version as well that gives you a more top-down look at your factory, though I haven't shown this in the video.

Input port details

When you're placing an Excavator you'll now see UI panels over the ports in the level. These tell you the product that will be imported through that port.

Naming of stuff

When I was working on the import panel I realised I needed to give my first input product a name. I went with Akorite since it's not a real mineral name and I can avoid having to ground this game with real stuff! I want to keep to real-ish sounding names, though, so you won't see any Unobtanium in here ;)

The next steps

I'm getting very close to something that feels more like a vertical slice of the game now, so I need to start thinking about the next big objectives. I'm really happy with how it's coming together so far, but I want to make sure I'm sticking to my lane and focusing on concrete goals.

Now that I have mechanisms in place for generating items, moving them around, and performing work on them (to produce an additional ouput), I have all of the 'bare bones' mechanics to build up a proper factory game. There are some developments that are more obvious than others:

Addition of belt splitters and mergers

A UI that shows when clicking on a machine which displays relevant information about its state and current processes

A machine that generates science points by researching items you feed into it (a little bit like the Satisfactory Awesome Sink)

A way to save and load your game

Beyond these, which I feel are essential requirements for it to be a functional 'game', I might consider these are additional development objectives:

A mission objectives system. This may initially just be 'accrue X science points' until a deeper contract-based system is developed.

A player tutorial system. This will likely take place in a pre-made small factory level where I can more tightly control the environment. Like setting up 'bumpers' in a bowling alley to keep the player on-track.

Research screen.

The concept of a research screen is just that for now - a screen. I want to get it in there as a placeholder soon just so that I have it hooked up and ready to work on at a later date.

The R&D tree is going to be an essential component for me to implement as it would feel totally lacking without the regular portioning of rewards to the player. It creates impetus and drive.

I'll be spending some time thinking it all over to try and come up with something as compelling as I can :)

Anyway, that's all again for now. Thank you again if you took the time to read this, I'm grateful for your time. Have a wonderful day! ❤️

[jaijaitbinks]

Saigenos + Mafia AU + angst = 💯

What if Genos was kidnapped by some rival gang? They send a ransom letter and everyone debates what to do. Until Saitama crumps the paper and says he will go alone, voice dripping with venom, anger barely restrained in the way he clenches his fist so hard that the knuckles turn white and you can count the veins of his arm.

Those guys don't know what they've done by taking away Genos.

I'm so sorry this took so long to answer, I had a whole ass scene thought up for this a while ago and got distracted so I left it in my drafts thinking "I'll continue it later" and never did.

But, I still have the idea in mind, so I'll do a quicker, not-as-detail version:

Saitama shows up, and takes out every mf in the building Genos is being held in horror movie style. Like, he's going down the halls, oneshotting everyone. Blood's getting everywhere. The rival gang's leader, who's currently in the room with Genos, is just seeing and hearing yelling and bodies hitting the ground, slowly drawing nearer as they can hear the threat ascending the stairs.

A body hits the ground in front of the door, blood pooling and slipping through the gap under the door steadily as the threat take slow, deliberate steps. In front of the door, the person stops, kneels and rummages through (what the mob boss assumes) the body before getting up and walking down the hall. The boss is thoroughly freaked out. Their men are currently a mix of attempting to flee and running around upstairs in preparation for the guy shooting everyone. Minutes go buy, and there's no more gunshots.

Or, at least they thought right before a bullet is in their head and their corpse falls forward.

Genos looks up from where he was tied, seeing Saitama in the window (did that man seriously scale the building so he could climb through a window?) with his gun up. Saitama's face looks downright murderous, but was shocks Genos the most is the wound on his face—a cut just below the cheek bone, short and shallow like a knife just barely managed to pierce his skin enough to bleed. And it shocked him because Saitama never get wounded.

When Saitama locks eyes with Genos, he pockets his gun quickly, fast enough that it was almost inhuman, and climbs through, beelining it to Genos' side. He calmly asks if he's okay, Genos says he's fine. And then Genos asks where the rest of the gang are, because everything is now quiet.

Once again, calmly he says: "They're not here."

"You... came here alone?"

"Yeah. Wouldn't have had time to gather everyone and I didn't want to pay that damn ransome."

The prospect is so baffling and makes Genos feels so many emotions. Love, because Saitama came this far ALONE just to save him. Fear, because what dumbass idea even is that; showing up to a building full of gang members without backup? And anger, because this man would rather put himself (and Genos, but mainly Saitama) in danger than pay ransome???? Was he being serious?

"You didn't want to pay the ransome?" His voice comes off accusatory as he rubs his wrists and sits face to face with Saitama, free of his confines. "You'd rather get yourself killed saving me than giving [the boss' name] money?"

Saitama fixes him with a look, and Genos almost regrets being so aggressive before Saitama takes his face in his hands, looks him dead in the eyes with a seriousness that almost made the blond tremble.

"Genos, I would give the entire world to protect you." His voice is firm—serious and blunt in a way that said: 'don't doubt my words'. "If I gave them that money, they would've killed you anyway, because you wouldn't have been of use to them anymore. They would've shot you the second they got that money. You would've died. And the day you die is the day that I do."

[cheryyori]

NIGHTMARE EYES PT. 2

pairing(s): steven grant/fem!oc for this part mainly (platonic dane/fem!oc)

summary: OK, so she's got a date now. And a possible future boyfriend. Ok, cool, nothing could go wrong right?

warning(s): mental health illness, possible inaccurate depictions of DID (I tried my best to research tho in spare time, also based on events in the show), horror elements, gore/blood elements, murders

author's note: ok so here my fic idea, but it's bare bones bc I haven't been in the best mood to write this down properly but I wanted to share this idea with everyone else. It's very messy so sorry about that. Probs some gaps in between but I'll fill it in a more edited version.

This chapter(?) shows Izanami and Sunny's relationship and what she does for her and the shit she goes through. We also get a small Marc and Sunny moment towards the end. You're welcome.

This was originally supposed to be done before Halloween bc of the spooky vibes it had but that didn't happen, sorry. Next part will be starting to mix with the plot of the show.

Other than that enjoy this word vomit bullet point for my fic idea (I'll probably change the format for the next part bc this looks messy :()

Open to also write hc and other blurbs for this au/characters (spoilers free for nightmare eyes au plot tho). Taglist open for anyone interested for updates.

Red italicized is Izanami either speaking or in Sunny's head & italicized is speaking in Korean

taglist: @ahookedheroespureheart

《PREV | NEXT》

Ok. So that happened.

Truthfully she's still buzzed from the kiss even after he left. But like???

Wow.

That kiss.

Wow x2

She hadn't had a kiss like that since well forever.

She pats her cheeks and blinks shaking her head, "Get a hold of yourself! It's just a kiss!" A damn good one tho.

She received a text a few minutes later about the details of their date. Right, steak. It was still odd that he would invite her there but maybe it was like he said. He wanted to impress her.

Ok points for effort. She'll let it slide for now.

The next day she sees Steven and smiles when he greets her, "Oh love, you're here I just wanted to say sorry about before." Why would he want to say sorry???

"What?"

"Sorry I was so caught up in my own thoughts I never got to ask you about it..."

What????

"About what?"

"The...erm....kiss....and, well, us?"

Oh.

Oh.

OH!

"U-us?" Oh god she forgot they never really did talk about it but then again...didn't he ask her out??? "Oh, well, what about us...?"

"Well I was wondering...does this make us more than friends?" She blinks.

"...do you want us to be more than friends, Steven?"

"Do you?"

She paused, he was fidgeting the entire time with rosy cheeks.

"Well...what would you say if I said yes...?"

She's sure his brain had short circuited bc he starts stumbling over his word.

"Y-yes, oh you said yes, well I'd say I'd like that..."

"Then we're more than friends, but only after our date and maybe get to know each other more," she added. Steven looks confused.

"Date?"

"Don't you remember? You came here last night and kissed me after going MIA for a week and then asked me on a date."

"A WEEK??!" He shouted before apologizing, "Sorry, I mean I did????"

"Yes, Steven. Don't you remember?" She gives him a concerned look before he shook his head.

"No I, I guess it must have slipped my mind, truthfully my memory hasnt been its best these last couple of days, I have, ah, sort of health condition," he confessed sheepishly.

Oh, well that might be why he didn't remember. She didn't pry for more details, she figured if he was comfortable, he'll tell her.

"Erm, for the date, what did we say it was at?"

"You suggested a steakhouse, I know I had the same look but you said you wanted to be for me, which was sweet and all but you didn't have to do that," she said, slightly skeptical.

"Oh no, it's fine, love! If I suggested it then I must have suggested. Oh bullocks, I wanted to remember asking you out at least, and even I couldn't do that," he laughs with a slightly dejected look on his face, "Makes me wonder why you'd accept a bloke like me."

"Aish, Steven, I've already told you not to sell yourself short, you're the sweetest and most kindhearted man, I love how your entire being lights up when you ramble about all the things that catches your interests, I might not have a clue on them half the time but they're something that makes you happy and that's what's important to me," she said.

"You mean that?"

"Of course! I've always liked you Steven and your ramblings too, I guess I was just scared you'd reject me. Who knew me kissing you suddenly would cause this!"

He chuckled before blinking, "I know you said we can try to be more than friends after the date but...may I have another kiss?"

She squeals, feeling her cheeks become red. The way he asked HER to kiss HIM!!! Oh her heart.

"Hmmm, okay just because maybe I find you to be cute," she says before giving him a soft peck on the lips. She could feel him practically melt in her arms. His hunched shoulders relaxed as he leaned into the kiss.

It was cute how he followed as she pulled away from the kiss, still dazed.

When she pulled away he was staring at her with hearts.

"Shall we get going, we'll miss our bus if we wait any longer." He nodded as he held her hand making her squeal internally. Yeah yeah call her a fucking idiot for fawning over this, but she was a romantic at heart.

The ride on the bus seemed normal, they talked as usual about different topics, mainly Steven and she just couldn't help but adore how excited he looked. Only new addition was that Steven held her hand and would have the brightest smile on his face compared to before. He did try to follow her off the bus when they reached her stop, mostly bc he wanted to walk her to work.

Luckily she stopped him, saying how he'll be late for work. He was reluctant and only relented when she offered to meet him for lunch.

Speaking of work, Dane notice how his friend was practically glowing. Ofc he would tease her. Bastard.

"Well you're in a great mood today," he notes.

"Maybe I just got a good night's sleep, you ever thought of that, Dane?" She asked. Dane rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, alright spill," he says, "What's got you all cheery today? You're usually dreading for the morning classes," he said.

He squinted his eyes at her before snapped his fingers. "I got it, you've got a date, didn't you?!"

HOW TF DID HE KNOW?!

"Who told you?!"

"You did! Just now! I knew it! Well go on, who is it? Wait, it's that nerdy gift shopist friend of yours you've been talking to, innit?"

"That's classified information, I have a code when it comes to dating and one of them is to not reveal their identities to friends until after the 8th date!"

"So it is him! Bloody finally! I was getting tired of seeing you two pine over each other like two school yard kids!" Dane said before sticking his head outside of the room, "Oi! Llyod, you owe 20 now! He finally asked her out!"

"You made a betting pool on us?! Dane!!"

She's gonna kill him. But apparently that's against the law, so she settled for smacking his shoulder with her teaching notes instead.

The day went by slowly until lunch arrived. Somehow she was bombared by the kids asking if Steven was with her, some of the kids kinda took a liking to him when he kept adding on to her teachings when he was waiting for her.

She was glad the kids liked him, they called him the funny tired man ever since. And GOD, she'll never let it down if he heard they also call him her boyfriend as well. Though the thought makes her a bit giddy.

She texted Steven she was on her way and took a seat on the bus. She was glad she had no classes to teach right after her lunch break, meaning she gets more time to herself. Usually she would use this time to grade her students work or make more lesson plans but she decided not to this time.

As she was lost in her own thoughts, a certain goddess decided to make her appearance.

"I see you're enjoying yourself with your little boy toy."

Sunny almost screamed but refrained as she held a hand over her heart, "What the fuck?!" She cursed and took a deep breath as she saw Izanami scrolling on her phone.

(Hold on, do goddesses even have phones or allowed to have them at all??? Aren't they supposed to be omnipresent or whatever...)

She took a quick look around and saw a few people around, but they were all lost in their own thoughts or their phones.

"Although you're free to do as you please in your spare time, remember that the spirits remain restless, I'll need you to investigate one that's been causing a scene in the living."

"Jesus can't you get someone else to be your own paranormal cop/detective?!"

"No." Damn, what did she expect really...

"Tonight? Really? Can't you get any of the other gods to help you?"

"I'm afraid you forget that I'm not quite well liked within my own pantheon, besides, none of the other gods will want to meddle with the dead, they find anything regarding the afterlife or is considered cursed to be nothing more than a little stain on their robes."

Yeesh, dramatic much. She's just asking for a break not a damn monolog.

"Be grateful, my dear, you're only doing the bare minimum of interacting and comforting them before helping them pass on."

Sunny rolled her eyes mimicking the goddess. "Meh meh, comfort my ass, tell that to the Crooked Man knock-off slug that literally tied to haunt my possible future boyfriend!"

"I thought you said that you two would be more than friends after the first date."

"Shut up! You know what I mean!" She yelled only to pause as she looked around to see some people staring at her, "Ha, sorry," she said, holding her phone out and pointed to her airpod in her ear, "Bit of a heated argument, sorry!"

"Regardless my little detective, work must be done to return balance in the afterlife. I have faith in you, my dear." She said, patting Sunny's cheek as if she was a child, making her click her tongue and slap her hand away.

"Oh shut it, if I do this you have to give me night of the date off! Agreed?"

Izanami hums before relenting with a nod and a roll of her eyes, "Very well, but don't push you're luck, be grateful that I'm quite fond of you," she said, "Also for your date, please wear something suitable, if I must, I will lend you something from my personal wardrobe."

"Hey, what's wrong with how I dress? It's comfy," Sunny huffed, glancing down at her clothes.

"Hm perhaps if this was dark academia libary date, yes, but if you're dining at a 5 star steakhouse restaurant please do follow the dress code."

"Ok, now that's just rude. There is nothing wrong with how I dress and I'm done with this conversation," she huffed.

"Oh!" Iznami gasped, startling her.

"What? What happened?" The goddess stared at her phone before replying.

"Seems like there's a promotion on those red bean soup from that little noodle shop you like," she said, an odd glee in her eyes.

"For all powerful goddess, you sure do have a knack for special deals from there..."

For some reason the goddess really loved the red bean soup from there and always demanded she get it for her if she was ordering take out from there. before getting off the bus and headed towards the museum.

She immediately went towards the gift shop where she saw Steven. "Steven!" She called out, startling him slightly before he turned and saw her.

"Oh Sunny, love," he said, "You startled me, is it lunchtime already?" He asked.

"Yeah, but I can wait for you while you finish up," she said. She decided to explore the museum exhibits while he finished.

Sunny merely took a quick glance through the ancient exhibits on displayed when she noticed how peeved Izanami looked. Sunny swears she sees a slight pout on her lips. Her thoughts were cut of when she heard her name and saw Steven. When she turned back, Izanami was already gone.

"Alright love, I should be done now," he said as he grabbed his bag.

"Great, let's get going then shall we?" She took his hand and led him out, internally smirking when she saw the look Donna and the security guard up front that had tried to flirt with her last week. Yeah it kinda felt nice to see them gawking at the two in shock.

"So I heard there's this nice cafe, we can have tea and some pastries if you'd like," he suggested.

"Oh that sounds great! Let's go!" She lets him lead her to the cafe, it was nice and cozy. And the pastries were heavenly and absolutely adorable. Reminds her of the cafés when she visited her relatives in Korea.

Steven has mostly talked, ranging from how his day went after they parted to how he notices some of the promotional posters for the Egyptian exhibit were wrong.

"Might have to bring it up to Donna later tonight," he said. She frowned at the mention of his boss.

"You sure you're don't need me to talk to her, listen if anything I'll get Dane to scold her since we'll he's pretty well known bc of his work, maybe she'll listen to him. Or better yet maybe he can help you get another job at a different museum."

"No, love its fine," he sighed.

"God one of these days I'll throttle her for you, she's such a bitch, I'm not even sure why she can't let you be a tour guide, I mean you have a health condition regarding why you're absent and or late, if she knows that then why can't see understand that!" Sunny huffed, though she didn't know it, it warmed his heart at her words.

He didn't think he'd be so lucky to find someone as understanding and kind as her. Maybe life was finally turning around for him.

"Love, it's quite alright, I don't mind as long as I can be close to the Egyptian exhibit, and knowing that you'll be here to listen to me when I'm down makes me feel better."

"You still shouldn't have to go through all that..." she sighed. Steven gave her a small smile.

"Well enough about me, how's your day, love?" He asked.

"The same as always, you know Dane made a damn betting pool on whether we'd go on a date or not?"

"Really, I didn't think of him as the sort to do that," Steven said.

"Oh you'd be surprised on what he does, a little bit unpredictable at times, you know we used the have Tuesday Karaoke nights before but not anymore!"

"Karaoke nights? Just the two of you? You sure I don't have to worry about the two of you being together?" He jokes, but a part of him was curious of their relationship. Maybe he was still a bit jealous deep down.

"Oh no, Dane and I are just friends since college, we met when he was an exchange student at our school. Well, I guess now we're best friends at this point," She said, "We used to frequent a karaoke bar we found in Chinatown. We usually just sit there to eat and drink at the noodle bar while others do karaoke on stage, though recently he's been going through a rough patch because of his girlfriend...being away..." she adds the last part hesitantly.

Yeah it probably wouldn't be smart for her to mention to Steven that Sersi was taken by some weird alien.

"Oh I'm sorry to hear about him and his girlfriend going through it, but maybe the two of us can go one day," Steven suggested. And he knew he hit the jackpot when he saw how her eyes lit up. An adorable sight really.

"Really? Oh my god we should! You'll have a blast there!" She said, shaking her hands from excitement as she was practically vibrating with glee at the thought.

Oh goodness, his heart was gonna burst.

"You're so adorable, love," Steven cooed as he placed his chin under his palms. Yup, he was sure he'd looked like a love sick puppy to others, but honestly he didn't really care, "It's still hard for me to wrap my head around how why you'd accept someone like me."

"Steven, I told you--"

"I know, but still...you probably had a lot of boyfriends in the past I bet, or maybe even girlfriends, I wouldn't blame them."

Sunny lets out a nervous chuckle, "Oh, uh, I really haven't had alot of dating experience really. Maybe like 1 or 2 serious relationships in the past but they didn't really end well."

"Really?" Now Steven was surprised.

"Ha, let's just say that younger me wasn't very well liked....not to say that people hated me or anything, I just was never anyone's first choice....I was just...odd to people."

Yeah, definitely being able to see undead things and spirits definitely makes her odd, she thinks.

"Well that's not right," Steven mutters. "And beside, being normal is overrated anyways," he quips, "I think you're quite pleasant even if you are odd."

"Awww, Steven, you're too kind," she grins, "Well who knows, I'm still hopeful that someone will love me as I am wholely," she said offhandedly as she glanced out the window.

Steven feels his cheeks become hot. A hopeful romantic to a fault, he can't help but wonder if he could be the one. Maybe, maybe not. But he can't help but fantasize at the thought.

"Maybe," he mutters to himself.

The waitress brought them their food. Steven took this moment to thank the waitress as they asked if they needed anything else.

While this happened, Sunny took a small sip of her ice tea and glanced outside the window. Everything seemed normal until she saw it.

Admist the busy streets of London stood a tall looming figure. Neck crooked, eyes hollow and drenched in blood. It's mouth slowly opened, wide enough to reveal its sharp teeth. Seeing its mouth open she saw a face sunken in its mouth, a look of pure agony and terror on its expression

She choked on her own drink, causing Steven to rush over to her side and pat her back as she coughed violently.

"Goodness love, you alright?!"

"J-just went down the wrong pipe, I'm alright," she coughed, looking back out through the window and the creature gone.

"What the fuck..." she mutters before looking back at Steven to see his concern face, "I'm okay, just got spooked, that's all," she said.

"Are you sure, love?" She continued to reassure him before telling him that they should eat their lunch before his break was over.

Steven relented, not sure what to say. He was sure she saw something but when he glanced out it was just the busy London street, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Yeah, fine, let's eat before our food gets cold," she said in hopes that he would leave the subject be.

He did, but continued to give her worried glances ever few minutes.

Somehow lunch went on smoothly after that, but she was still shaken by what she saw. She could hear Izanami complain in the back of her head how the spirits were becoming more bold and restless and that doesn't make her feel better tbh.

Once she dropped Steven back at the museum, she left. She turned to corner only to shout when she ran into a familar ghost wearing shade.

"Oh my God! You again?!" She had an exasperated look, "So what? You're just following me around now?!" She said with more mild annoyance rather than fear the first time she met the ghost.

Yeah she's terrified of the ghosts half of the time, but if they're just going to do things like this the fear suddenly lessens a bit.

"Don't blame them for sticking to you, my dear," Izanami said, appearing beside her again.

"Oh my god!" She jumps, "I swear we to get you a bell or something..." she sighs.

The goddess merely ignored her as she walked and turned around the corner.

This bitch...

She followed after, knowing that the goddess usually doesn't make her appearance unless it involves some stray spirits.

Or maybe to bother her.

She noticed a large crowd forming along side the riverbank. Sirens from the constables car going off in the background.

She saw the goddess standing among the crowd with arms crossed, her eyes staring out into the water.

Sunny heard hush whispers among the crowd, something about a missing woman found dead in the river.

She had a bad feeling about this.

Before she could ask Izanami why they were heard she look out to see a woman standing in the middle of the water, dress in a white night gown.

Oh great.

She gulped and nervously glanced back at the goddess, shifting uncomfortably at the sight of the woman slowly emerging out of the water.

"It's usually rare of me to stumble upon a vengeful spirit in the making," Izanami suddenly commented.

"Woah, wait! 'Vengeful'?!" Sunny squeaked.

"Oh relax my dear, she's not at the stage yet, we can prevent it if we find out reason for her anger."

Sunny grimaced at the thought as the spirit was now before them, the rest of the crowd ignorant to what was happening.

She's had her fair share of encounters with more vengeful spirits and trust her, it's not that great.

"So my dear, I can sense you're angry, may I ask why? Perhaps we can help?"

"...my husband...he did this to me..."

"Hm, I see, I can understand the sentiment..."

"Izanami..." Sunny muttered feeling uncomfortable at the spirit before her. She saw how blood had been trailing down her head and onto her clothes. Her skin a now deathly pale blue color. Not to mention the sudden shift of how thick the air around them felt. She felt that she was going to choke.

"Fine, fine, so you want revenge on your husband I see, I'm assuming he's the one that killed you. Hmm, I'm usually not the one to mess with the living but I suppose I can an exception for this case."

Izanami hummed as she tapped her pointer finger against her chin, "But because it involves the living it will cost you my dear, what do you have to offer to me to fulfill this?"

"Are you really extorting the ghost?!" Sunny gasped.

The spirit contemplated, "I don't have any money on me..."

"Oh, it doesn't have to be of the monetary type, anything you deem of value, it can sentimental as well."

The spirit remained quiet before taking off a ring that was on her finger. Izanami took the ring an inspected it.

"I see, very well, consider it done," she said before tossing it to Sunny, who was startled as she caught it.

She gazed at the ring and notices the very expensive looking diamond attached to the ring, "Holy shit...."

This damn rock could cover her bills for an entire 2 months!

(tw: gore & blood warning)

Before she could ask Izanami what she was gonna do with ring, the spirit suddenly dug her fingers into the side of her skull.

A strange sound of discomfort coming from the back of Sunny's throat at the sight.

The sounds of squelching was heard before the spirit took out a single bullet, covered in red and has bits of possibly brain matter on it.

Sunny grimaced at the sight and turned away, feeling sick as Izanami took the bullet from the spirit.

"I hope you feel at ease, dear," Izanami replied in a soft voice. It was odd hearing the goddess sound so tender and sincere considering how she usually is.

And with that the spirit disappeared. The thick air lifting as she exhaled a deep breath she didn't know she had been holding in.

"So...that's it?" She mutters, taking a look around them. No one had noticed what took place and continued on as normal.

"For now," Izanami replies.

"That's quite ominous of you to say..."

"What do you want me to say, it'll take some time to enact their just revenge, I can't just drop my duties to do just that."

"And those duties are?" Sunny asked. Izanami doesn't replied.

She sighs before leaving the scene and quickly headed back to museums before her next class. The diamond ring seemed heavy in her pocket as she worried what exactly the goddess was planning to do to exact the spirit's revenge.

Nothing good, most likely.

NIGHT TIME - 11:10PM

After work, Sunny had almost all but forgotten the experience from earlier as she walked down the streets towards the bus stop.

Dane offered to wait for her like usual, but he seemed a bit jittery, almost anxious. She decided that maybe he was still worried about Sersi.

So she declined, telling him to head home for the night. She sighed as she walked past a few buildings hoping to catch the last bus or maybe even a cab at this point.

She had been deep in her own thoughts relaying today's events when she heard a sudden clash.

She jumped as she turned to see what it was. Some nearby trash can were knocked over, a part of her wants thinks it's the wind, but she knows it's not the case.

Call her paranoid, but when you've spent years dealing with ghost, it doesn't hurt to be cautious.

Sunny hastily made her way towards the end of the street, gripping her phone in one hand.

God how she wished she brought her baseball bat with her. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see nothing when-

"What are you doing?"

She screamed as she turned to see Izanami standing before her.

"Oh god," she gasped, "Stop doing that, you're gonna give me a heart attack one day..."

Izanami frowned, "I wouldn't let that happen."

"That's oddly comforting to hear..." Sunny said, "Well since you're here, have...have you noticed anything odd around here?"

Izanami raised a brow at her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you know something...well, something that involves the dead?"

Before the goddess could speak, all the lights before them had suddenly shut off. The two stared at each other before a few minutes later the lights turned back on, only with a red hue.

"This is new..." Izanami notes, sounding quite suprised. Sunny shushes the goddess, hearing something in the distance.

"...do you hear that?" The two paused, listening closely. It sounded like footsteps. Along with some heavy breathing.

The two glanced at each other before they saw it.

A large looming figure with four elongated limbs protruding from its torso. The portion where it's head should be had multiple eyes all over it and slit across its face representing its mouth.

Oh shit.

Sunny gasped, but Izanami quickly placed her hand over her mouth, shushing her.

"Don't," she whispered, "Don't make a sound. Just slowly back away and hide into the alley while it passes..." she said, slowly lowering her hand from Sunny's mouth and gripped her arm to follow her lead.

She nodded as they backed away slowly, keeping their eyes on the creature. They continued walking back until they stumbled upon some trash cans that were laying about on the sidewalk.

The creature suddenly turned its head towards them, slowly emerging as it faced them.

"Well this is bad," Izanami mutters.

"Yeah, you think!? Can't you do something about that thing?!"

"I can't do anything against that thing!"

"But you're a god! One that oversees the underworld specifically!" Sunny jumps as the creature lets out a growl.

"Yes, but under certian circumstances, I have no control over that foul beast!"

"So you're basically useless to me right now! Great, what's the point in being bothered by an all powerful god if they can't even have the power to protect you?!" Sunny snapped, "Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!"

"Quit talking and just run!"

Sunny did just that as she dipped into the nearby alleyway, hearing the creature let out a shriek and chase after her.

She screamed as it slammed into the side of the building. She kicked an unstable plank holding some crates to collapse and fall over in hopes to temporarily stop the creature.

She panted as ducked under some fencing rails and slipped into a smaller alleyway that had exited out into a more open alleyway.

She paused, sensing that the creature was nowhere nearby. For a second she felt a bit of ease.

She took a step back before her foot stepped on something. She glanced down to see a small pendant. She knelt down to picked it up and quickly inspected it. It was gold with inscriptions embossed on it.

The inscription was in kanji, she'll have to ask Izanami what it says then.

She stood straight and pulled out her phone to see where she was at when she heard a faint whisper.

She paused, slowly hearing the whisper grow more louder and more frantic. She held her breath and glanced over her shoulder to see a ghostly looking woman, her hands covering her face as she let out sobs.

Sunny took a step back as the woman removed her hands and stared at her with a vacant expression before a large wide grin was seen.

A distorted giggle left their lips before their head suddenly split open, revealing a large inflated one with large bulging eyes and a wide grin with sharp teeth snapping at her.

"Are you fucking with me--" she ducked as it lurched forward, slamming itself against the wall behind her. She ran as it let out fits of giggles and clattering before it followed after her.

"Izanami, if you can hear me throughout all this chaos, I swear to fucking God, if you don't tell me what the fuck is going I'm gonna fucking lose it!"

Well there's no reason to be so crude about it!

"Izanami!"

Alright, alright! I'm afraid I'm not sure why so many ghastly spirits are emerging at this time, were not even close to the night parade yet...

"The what now?!"

Never mind that, just keep running and take a left, it'll lead you through an alley in front of the apartment building---duck!!

Sunny gasped and suddenly ducked, rolling on her side as a large arm shot its way out between the walls out of nowhere. She winced as she hit her head against the pavement, a small cut was seen above her left brow.

She pressed her fingers above her brow when she felt something trickle down her face.

Great. Blood.

She lets out groan as she stood back up to see the arm crawling around to find her. She stepped back as the arm swiped at her.

She glanced over to see a wooden board and grabbed it as she hit the arm over and over again as it tried to grab her. The arm stilled before disappearing into black smoke.

A huff escaped her lips as she threw the board away. She recalled Izanami saying if she slipped through the upcoming alley it would lead her to the front of the apartment building.

The air was still thick, she glanced down the end of the alley to see the second spirit she had saw earlier, staring back at her. The distorted giggles and clatter were heard.

She held her bag close to her before the spirit suddenly disappeared. A slight sense of relief washed over her, although only temporarily before Izanami spoke.

Best make haste now, I can still sense the foul beast close by.

Speak of the devil, a loud shriek was heard before she turned to see the first spirit at the very end.

"Seriously?!" She quickly slipped into alley and found herself in front of the apartments. She rushed inside, shut the front door and staring out through the small window to see the spirit slowly disappear with the wind.

She sighed and placed her head against the door frame. She hate this.

Slowly Sunny made her way towards the lift and pressed the button to her floor. She could feel herself on edge as she glanced around the lift. No spirits popping out of nowhere like the last time.

She saw herself in the reflection, God she looked like shit. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes all rumpled up and a mess, and the bleeding cut above her brow.

Glad that no one was around at least.

Once she reached her floor, she hastily turned back and exited the lift, paranoia and adrenaline still filling her system before she heard a voice.

"Shit are you okay?"

She quickly turned to see Steven, his eyes wide as he took in her appearance. He was dressed differently than usual and his messy unkempt curls was pushed back. And the accent was off, but slightly different than the last time.

On any normal day, she would have pointed it out, but her mind was frazzled and too much of a mess to notice.

"Oh god, Steven?"

"I--" he didn't get a chance to speak when she rushed in to hug him. Her body relaxed, all the adrenaline slowly left her and the exhaustion settled in.

He stiffened, unsure how to react. He was just worried when he saw a woman all banged up left the lift.

She had called him Steven, meaning she knew the other alter. Shit.

He swallowed thickly before wrapping his arms around her, "Hey, it'll be fine, you're okay..." he said.

He pulled away as he looked over at the cut she had. It wasn't too bad but he'll need to patch her up.

"What happened?" He asked, doing his best put on the same accent Steven always had.

"Umm..." she shifted uncomfortably and looked away. She didn't think telling him what happened would be a good idea.

He noticed that she was uncomfortable and decided not to push now, it didn't look like nothing dire had happened to her if you know what he means.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me, but we should do something about that cut though," he said.

"Oh yeah..." she paused, "I, uh, I have a first aid kit in my flat..."

He nodded as she took out her keys to unlocked the door to her flat. Inside she switched the lights on.

The inside was similar to Steven's but definitely more spacious and had another extra small room.

Everything looked simple and neat, some vine decor above the curtains to give some more color.

"Uh, the first aid is in that top cabinet there," she pointed as she dropped onto the couch in the middle of the living room area.

He nodded as he went to the cabinet and grabbed the first aid. She huffed and laid back onto the couch.

As he grabbed the first aid, he noticed her id card settling down on the counter. He caught a glance and noticed the name making him freeze.

Shit.

He took a deep breath before heading back to where she was at, "Hey," he called out, startling her awake, "You need to stay awake for a bit, don't know if you've gotten a concussion or not..."

"I'll be fine, I didn't really hit my head that hard..."

"So you did hit your head, even more of a reason you should stay awake."

He paused as he took some alcohol wipes and move her bangs to the side as he pressed them lightly onto the cut.

"Ouch," she mutters, wincing slightly at the pain.

"Sorry, should've warned you that it'll hurt."

"Its fine, it's not that bad," she said.

"So...we gonna talk how you got all banged up?"

"I...uh, fell down the stairs..." she hoped he'd buy it.

He had a look on his face, his brows scrunched together before sighing, "Sure."

Once he was done, he placed a plaster over the cut and put the first aid kit away. Silence fell between the two. He felt anxious.

"I, uh, listen I gotta go, have something to do real quick."

She hummed, "Ok," she mutters, heavily tired as she closed her eyes. He noticed that she was about to fall asleep. She didn't look like she had a concussion when he checked her head. So he deemed it safe for her to sleep.

"Let's get you to bed, otherwise you'll wake up with a crink in your neck if you sleep here," she hummed in response as he helped her up.

He managed to find her room and placed her on the bed. He tucked under the duvet before sighing. He waited for a moment before he heard her breathing even out, signaling that she was fast asleep.

"Night Sunshine," he mutters before leaving for the night to do a moon God's bidding.

[babylooneytoonz]

The Vessel [Pt. 15- Final Chapter]

Geralt of Rivia x fem! reader

A/N- This is officially the end of my book, and I want to thank you all for sparing the time to read it. Thank you! 🤍

Warnings: fluff and soft Geralt

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

Geralt grumbled under his breath, yet his movements were quiet; stealthy like a cat as he didn't want to wake you. You were almost due to give birth, and Geralt didn't want to disturb your sleep, because you hardly got any. Although it was strangely pleasing to him to watch you try to pacify your baby, sometimes stroking your bump, or sometimes singing to it, and he didn't want to admit he secretly loved it, he was happy the baby was calm today, and you were peacefully asleep.

He entered your shared bedroom back in your home in Redania where he now mostly spent his time, when he was not out hunting monsters, that was. His armour was soiled with gore, fragments of the kikimora's intestines, and he wanted nothing more than to drown himself into a bath, and relax but he didn't want to wake you up.

The size of the body the man had, silence was the least dominant trait that he had. As he took off his armour, the armour fell from his hand, crashing against the floor with the clatter that woke you up instantly.

"Fuck, who's there?" You almost sat up in bed, grabbing a nearby empty pitcher of water in your grip, ready to throw it at whoever it was, your mind slightly disoriented as you had been asleep.

"It's just me," Geralt grumbled, frowning at how clumsy he was, immediately bending and picking up his armour. Finally, your eyes adjusted to the lighting of the room, and when you saw him, you slowly slid out of the bed and waddled towards him.

"What have you done to yourself, my love? You look like a piss pot."

"Hm, blame the kikimora," Geralt grumbled, under his breath, and you ended up chuckling as he tried to shoo you back into bed, waving his hands.

"Didn't mean to wake you, go to bed, [Y/N]."

"It's okay, Geralt. Let me draw your bath," You motioned to him to take off his dirty clothes while you decided to warm some water so he could take a bath.

Geralt didn't let you carry the pails of water yourself, of course and neither could you. In fact, it was difficult for you to climb the stairs owing to the fact that your bump was blocking your view of your feet.

You watched as he slid into the warm water, his body immediately relaxing as the soothing touch of the heat hit his sore body.

"I can't wait to give birth, Geralt," you mumbled as you sat against the edge of the bed, rubbing a paste that you had created over your swollen ankles, as much as you could bend, while Geralt relaxed in the bathtub, his eyes flicking occasionally towards you and a small smile graced his lips at the sight of you.

When Geralt didn't reply, you lifted your gaze, fixing it on him, noticing how he was staring at you. His lips were curved— so minutely, that only you and Jaskier could understand now, little details about him, like when he was amused, or in a jestful mood. You stood up, letting the vessel down on the bed, and walked up to fix yourself behind your Witcher's back, your hands coming to rest against the base of his neck as you began scrubbing him. Geralt of Rivia's company had taught to treat silence as bliss.

"What was that?" You frowned as you looked up at the wooden door of your bedroom. You had been sitting against the headboard of your bed, while Geralt was laying on your lap, almost having dozed off; your fingers gently stroking through his locks, lulling him into an even deeper sleep.

The words had barely escaped your lips, and Geralt was up, rigid and alert, like a wolf. He jumped, in one movement, standing by your bed, his hand drawn towards you, his palm raised, motioning you to stay still as he grabbed his sword with the other hand.

"Jaskier? Is that you?" Geralt snarled, but the pounding outside your door didn't stop, and instead it worsened, the loud noise now giving you a headache, forcing you to press your hands against your ears.

Just as Geralt darted towards the door, ready to pull it open and see for himself as to exactly who this intruder was when suddenly, the door flung open, and a Cintran guard tossed Jaskier in, who fell on his knees where Geralt was.

"Geralt! Say something, I am being tossed about like a worthless sack of grain!" Jaskier dramatized, and you hurriedly slid against the edge of the bed while Geralt drew his sword towards the Cintran guard.

The guard turned, regarding you through the armoured helmet that covered his face partially, and then nodded to himself before his voice rang out, "My Queen, the Princess is here, as expected."

"Touch her, I'll break your fucking bones," Geralt growled, his grip on his sword tightening when suddenly, "Lower your weapons! I'm here to talk," a familiar voice commanded, and you knew who it was. You pressed your lips together in a slight anger, both your hands coming to rest protectively against your swollen belly.

Calanthe entered, her eyes falling first thing on the Witcher and her frown widened, before she turned towards you, "Knew I'd find you here."

You bit your lip, eyeing her carefully, when Geralt began speaking, and her head shot towards him.

"If you're here to drag her to that King who fucked his own sister, then it's too late."

You nodded at Geralt's words, immediately rushing to Geralt's side, stepping behind him, grabbing on to his hand that wasn't holding the sword, your fingers entwining with his, "Yes, mother. My baby will not be a bastard anymore. We're married now."

"I'm not here to ask you to marry Foltest, I'm here to—" she stopped talking, throwing out her hands towards you, trying to nudge you to go to her but you stayed by Geralt's side, "I'm here to take you home. Your Kingdom needs you. I need you. If the Witcher is who you desire then, I give my blessings."

"What?" You and Jaskier said almost together, and you almost choked on a gasp.

"All my life, I thought you were dead and then I found you only to lose you again. Come home, I can't rule a Kingdom anymore, I need you to sit on that throne."

The shock of it all was hard to process. You gasped, tightening your grip on Geralt's hand and he turned towards you with a frown, "You okay?"

"A throne? This is too much."

"You were born for this, [Y/N]." Calanthe continued.

Suddenly, your mind began zoning out the voices, and the voices of Geralt, Calanthe and Jaskier were just background noises to you. You felt something wet slide down the inside of your legs, and your eyes widened. Your breathing laboured suddenly as a sudden cramp tore through your stomach, all too suddenly, and you whelp escaped your lips, causing Geralt to turn towards you.

"I don't think.. I can think of any throne right now.. mother.. I think the baby is coming."

That was, perhaps, the fastest journey Geralt had made, to the village to get the midwife, while Calanthe stayed with you.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Calanthe wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand and you growled at her, "Then what exactly am I doing mother? You are not helping!! I would rather have you switch places with Jask'."

"Leave me out of this. I have a history of fainting at the sight of a lot of blood," Jaskier called out from outside the room, and you groaned in pain, and part annoyance, now aware that he was lurking right outside your door.

You screamed as another contraction tore through your body, the midwife having finally arrived as Calanthe switched positions with her and you felt her squat down by your lower region. You tried breathing, preparing yourself for another crippling contraction, spreading your legs and arching your back, as Calanthe tried to soothe you.

"Geralt, I fucking hate you for doing this to me! I hope you hear me!" You screamed in pain, even though you knew you would regret this later when you would have your baby pressed to your chest.

The sun set, and the sun rose again the next day; but your screaming didn't die. It was only when the sun was right above your home did the first cries of your girl finally fill your shack. Tears of joy flew freely through your eyes, and your mother's as she pressed the babe to her chest, looking down at her slightly golden eyes in awe.

"She's got Geralt's eyes," she whispered to you, as you let out a sob, and weakly threw out your hands so you would hold her in your arms. She was so tiny, and so perfect, her eyes like Geralt, a tuft of golden white locks already on top of her otherwise bald head.

"Mother, can you take her? I feel.. like all my energy is gone."

"Lay down and close your eyes, child. You've birthed a baby, and that isn't easy as the menfolk think it is. I have her," she took her from your arms, and you smiled weakly at the sight before you let your eyes shut.

You were in a dreamless slumber, your slumber so deep that even Jaskier playing the lute against your ears would not have been enough to wake you up.

After a long time, you stirred in your sleep, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

The sight in front of you, as you propped yourself up against your elbows, made your heart swell with love. Geralt sat on a chair, his eyes pressed shut, his chest rising up and down the only movement that you could see, holding your daughter close to his chest. The little babe looked tiny as compared to the Witcher's bulky frame, yet this was the softest sight you had ever seen. You slid to the edge of the bed, letting the bare pads of your feet brush against the cold floorboards as you pushed your still sore body up. Just then, Jaskier entered the room, his eyes lighting up as he saw you.

You smiled when you saw that he was holding the blanket that you had knitted for the baby when you had found out of the pregnancy.

"Here," he whispered in a low voice so he didn't wake the father and the daughter as he threw out his hand towards you. You only shook your head and pointed towards Geralt.

"Scared to put it on him?" You joked, your voice a whisper too.

"For the first time, I don't want to ruin the moment," he smiled, as he pulled you into a side hug and you almost sniffled dramatically, pouting, "Well, Jaskier. Aren't you in love?"

"Princess, I'm not ashamed to say I'm in love with her. She is the best thing that's happened to us."

"Oh, Jaskier—" You blurted out, a little too loud, and the Witcher grumbled slightly, stirring from his sleep as he fluttered his eyes open; the first thing his eyes falling on being the baby in his arms, and then up at you.

Geralt smiled and nodded, as you walked up to him, lowering yourself on his thigh, carefully placing your palm on top of her head.

"She's perfect, my love," Geralt whispered, and you nodded, wrapping your arm around his neck, letting your head rest against his.

It was the calm before the storm.

You stood by the massive window of your chambers, staring at the city ahead of you— Cintra.

Your Kingdom, your home, which you now ruled, with your Witcher by your side.

"What are you thinking, love?"

The familiar rasp of a voice made you turn towards him, a faint smile breaking out against your lips. Geralt was propped on his elbow, his naked chest glistening as a ray of sunshine fell directly on him, his lower body wrapped in the silkiest of the blankets.

"I have an ill feeling, Geralt."

"Come to bed, love. Let me make you feel better," Geralt smirked, as he patted on the empty side of your bed but before you could, a loud babble of a baby filled the room.

Both you and Geralt turned towards the door, watching your one year old taking baby steps towards the two of you.

"How the hell?" Geralt muttered, when Jaskier darted into the room; his hair unkempt, paint caked on his cheeks and his shirt. He grabbed Fiona in his arms, and swung her up and the little girl cackled in glee, making you grin.

"Sorry, I was just teaching her how to paint. She ran off with my brushes," he sheepishly grinned before his eyebrow shot up and he eyed Geralt, "Don't let my interference stop whatever the two of you were planning to do. Perhaps, planning a sibling for her."

Geralt grunted under his breath, while you ended up snorting to his comment, shaking your head, "That's not happening, Jaskier. I'm done with mages and their spells. Now run along, we've got things to do."

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @miss-emilia-cavill @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @fanaticnae @kmuir1 @little-jana @pineapplemama @auds24 @sassy-pelican @bitchynicole @cavillsim @ragamuffin285 @hista-girl @oliviali0930 @introvertedmouse @madbaddic7ed @libbymouse @nerra75 @maxineswritingcenter @superawesomegeek @waifu4lifeu @funalpaca @petitefirecracker10 @marantha @vikingsbifrost @babypink224221 @jessyballet @strrynigxts @rn7rocks @theroyalbrownbarbie @amirra88 @naughty-koala07 @xuxszx @iminlovewithenchilidadas

[justalost4girl]

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

[alexhogh7137]

The Battle Between Love and Fire-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Twenty: The Retrieval

Chapter Nineteen

Word Count 3k

Warnings: mentions of rape, blood, gore, little fluff

When night strikes Wessex, still no sign of Ivar or his brother's. You can feel yourself getting weaker and weaker as the hours go on. You know that they are searching for you, they just don't know where you are. Hopefully your best friend sent that letter to Kattegat and it gets to them by morning. If not, you have no idea if you will survive another day of torture. When the meeting with the people was over, your people were absolutely furious and did not approve of anything that is going on. King Harald was outraged, so he took all of his anger out on you. At this point, every inch of skin is either cut or bruised. You can barely breathe, barely even see. You just hold onto your stomach and weep. 

King Harald comes in a few hours later, you are not certain of the time. 

"P-please..n-no more."

Harald chuckles, "No more of what? Beatings or the sex?"

"Both." You stuttered. 

Harald "Okay, fine. I will make you a deal. No more sex, if you give me one of your dragon's." You chuckle so hard that blood comes up.

"Go to hell." You mumbled as you spit the blood out of your mouth. 

Harald "No? Are you sure you won't accept my offer?"

"They are m-mine. My babie-s. No, you cannot have one."

Harald tisks his tongue, "Such a shame. But at the same time, it is not. Because this means, I can still use you hmm?"

"Just leave me alone." 

Harald "Aw poor child-"

"I am not a child! I am a queen! I am Ivar's queen! Have you forgotten?!"

Harald "Oh of course not. Ivar and I are very close allies-"

"Well not," you gasp for breath, "anymore now that you have done all of this to me."

Harald gets into your face, "Do you really think that he loves you, Y/n? Do you really think that he cares about you or that child in your belly? He is just as wicked as I am." You let your head fall to the ground. You try not to listen to his words because in all honesty, they hurt. You love your husband, you miss him more than anything. But you can't stop replaying what his last words were to you. And those are what make you feel like King Harald is telling you the truth. 

"Even if he does not, I still have my child."

Harald "Ah yes, that little baby in your belly. You still think it is still ali-" you slap him across the face, hard enough for spit to fly out of his dirty mouth. He looks down at you and laughs in your face. "You still have fight in you. I like that!" He grabs you and rips the only piece of clothing that you have left on and takes you. You try to fight back but it is no use. He is much stronger than you now. You cry and cry as he takes you, screaming out in mercy. But he does not give it to you. When the time comes, if the time comes, he will not get mercy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning arrives in Kattegat and the news carrier comes to Ivar immediately as he sits on his throne. Hvitserk sits beside Ubbe, hanging his head down. His hair is ragged and his eyes are bloodshot. Ubbe is staying strong, he needs to for his brother's. 

Ivar "What is it? Have you found her?!"

"My king? Oh no! I just have a letter for you, my king."

Ivar sighs, "Alright. Give it here." Hvitserk takes a huge gulp of ale and shakes away his nerves. He feels like every waking minute, could be another minute of your life withering away. 

Hvitserk "What does it say, Ivar." Ivar reads and does not say anything. His eyes just wilt with tears.

Ubbe "IVAR! What does the letter say!"

Ivar looks up at his two brother's standing in front of him, waiting for answers.

Ivar "She is in Wessex. It was her friend that we met when we got her dragon's back Hvitserk. She wrote in detail of her condition." Hvitserk rips the piece of parchment out of Ivar's hands and reads it for himself while Ubbe hovers behind him.

The letter:

"Hello King Ivar, my name is Thyra. I met you and Hvitserk when you came back to retrieve Y/n's dragon's back in Spring. I am her friend and as her friend, I am begging you to bring as many warriors and her dragon's to Wessex, England. King Harald Finnair and the King are torturing Y/n to get information about her dragon's. King Harald has beaten her to the point where she can hardly be recognized. Her skin is bruised, so badly that it is blackened. Her eyes are almost swollen shut and her clothes are ripped to shreds from being sexually assaulted by someone. In my opinion, it has to be King Harald. She told me that she is with child, but I fear that that is no longer the case by her current state. Please come as soon as possible. She does not have long."

~Thyra

Hvitserk fell to his knees and fainted. When he awoke, Ubbe is screaming at Ivar to get his act together and get his men to Wessex. 

Ubbe "What are you waiting for!? You know where she is! Let's go get her and bring her back home!"

Ivar "We are too short of men, Ubbe."

Ubbe "We will not fight today, but we need to save your wife!"

Ivar "Yes. I will go and ready our ships and soldiers. Wake him up." 

Hvitserk "I AM UP! YOU SERIOUSLY WERE CONSIDERING NOT GOING TO WESSEX?!"

Ivar "I am king. I have to look out for my men. I fear that many of them will lose their lives today if we fight to get Y/n back. And we are short on soldiers."

Hvitserk "You are not her husband. You sure as hell are not acting like it!"

Ivar "I am her husband!"

Hvitserk "THEN GO TO WESSEX AND SAVE YOUR BLOODY WIFE!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three dragon's fly above the ships as they set sail to Wessex, England. Hvitserk prays the whole time there that you are still with him. That his child is still with him. He has not heard from you today, which makes him very uneasy. 

Ubbe "Look ahead of you brother, she is not too far now."

Hvitserk "What if she-"

Ubbe "She's not. Don't think such a thing. You will see her soon." Ivar stands by himself and looks ahead of him. He is worried to see your state. He is worried that you won't be the same after he brings you home to Kattegat. He fears that you will not love him any more. Could he truly blame you?

…

Hvitserk walks over to his brother Ivar and sits down beside him. Ivar does not say a word. He does not feel like he has the right to do so. So Hvitserk takes that step.

Hvitserk "Why are you acting like this, Ivar? I thought that you have changed."

Ivar "I have changed. Y/n changed me for the better."

Hvitserk "Really? Because you have been acting like you old self for the past three days."

Ivar "That is because, when I am scared...I turn it into anger. And Hvitserk, I am terrified. I am terrified of seeing her like how Thyra described. I fear that I am going to break down when she needs me to be strong. I fear that we might be too late."

Hvitserk "As do I, brother. But we need to be strong for her okay?"

Ivar "Yes."

Ubbe "We are coming up to the castle. We are here brother's." When they look up and see the castle coming closer and closer into their view, they get their warrior faces on and get ready to get their girl back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You pass out from all of the pain that you are in. King Harald ended up not leaving you alone until three rounds later. Even when you are still, your legs shake from overstimulation. The blood is just a reminder that it would take a miracle for your baby girl to still be alive. 

When the three brother's arrive at the gates of the kingdom, Ivar uses the dragon's flames to burn the gates down. Raising them since they were babies, has its perks. When the gates burn down, the people are frantic at the sight of them. The dragon's fly ahead and land on top of the castle, while Ivar and his army flood every inch of the kingdom. 

Ivar "I AM IVAR THE BONELESS! THESE ARE MY BROTHER'S! I AM YOUR PRINCESS'S HUSBAND AND KING, WE ARE HERE TO SET HER FREE. DO NOT FIGHT US!" The people calm down and almost turn to excitement. Ubbe runs to the doors, as well as Hvitserk with a few of their personal guard's. When they enter, they are confronted with the two men that are responsible for all of this. 

Harald "Ah, finally-"

Hvitserk "Where is she?!" 

Harald "Go find her for yourself. I must warn you though, dear Hvitserk...you might not recognize her." Ubbe looks at him.

Ubbe "Go get her, I'll take care of these two. Watch your back." Hvitserk nods and kills every man that comes his way. He is filled with such rage and hate that he has no empathy for anyone but you at this point. He climbs to the top but you are not there. So he ran back down, ending up in the darkest and coldest parts of the castle. He finds old bones on the stone floors and some animal corpses. He walks on and finds doors that only keys could open, but luckily for him, his sword is made from the strongest steel that could ever be made. When he broke down the first door, no one was in it. He broke down every door except the one that you were in. When he reaches the last door, he hesitates and tears start to fill in his eyes because he knows that you are in there. Hvitserk took a deep breath and broke the door down. When he stepped foot inside that cage, he sees you in the corner. There is so much blood surrounding you, that he can barely see the floor beneath you. He walks over to you, scared out of his mind because he feels like you should have woken up by the door being broken into. 

Hvitserk "Y/n? Baby?....sweetheart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you awake, you feel a pair of gentle hands on your shoulder. And then you hear the voice of a man that you have been needing for what feels like forever. You look up and see Hvitserk hovering over you. 

"..Hvitserk?"

Hvitserk chuckles through the tears, "Yeah, kitten. It's me, I am here. We are all here." You pull him into your arms and hold him as tight as you could and sobbed uncontrollably. 

Hvitserk "You're okay...you'll be okay."

"I...I can't..I can't get up..I can't move. He-"

Hvitserk "I know. I know, I'm going to carry you all the way back home, okay?"

"Hvitserk...the baby-"

Hvitserk "She is fine. You both are fine, let's get you home." He lifts you into his arm's. Once you get off of the floor, the pain is excruciating. You scream and cry from every inch of your body that is causing you this feeling. 

Hvitserk "I know..I know, we will heal you, I promise."

"I feel like every part of me is broken."

Hvitserk "You will be healed..I promise. We will get through this."

"M-my dragon's!"

Hvitserk "They are here. They are all here, Kitten." You sob into his chest from relief. It feels like a dream but it is, thankfully, your reality. The reality that you have been praying for for four days.

…

Harald "I am almost glad to see you, Ivar...old friend."

Ivar "I am not your friend."

Harald "Oh so harsh. I am surprised it took you this long to find her."

Ivar "It took us this long because we sent warriors to all of your kingdoms but couldn't find her there. But we did find a lot of your valuable warriors and killed them." Harald scowls. "So do not be surprised when you go home to Vestfold and Rogaland...there is a bloodbath waiting for your return." 

Harald "Well I have to admit, that saddens me. But then again, I have gotten so much use out of your wife that I cannot stay mad at you-" Ivar attempts to charge but Ubbe stops him with his arm.

Ubbe "Not today. Remember our mission of today. Bring her home. Get her healed. And then-"

Ivar "He will burn-" He stops what he was going to say when he sees his brother carrying his wife in his arms. It confirmed one of his worst fears: you being so badly beaten that you are almost unrecognizable. 

Ivar "Y/n?" You look over your shoulder and see your husband.

"I-...IVAR?!" Hvitserk puts you down right in front of him. You wrap your weak arms around his neck as he holds your frail body up in his arms. 

Ivar "I missed you so much...I-I am so so so sorry. Please forgive me!"

"I do. Just please take me h-home." He cups your cheeks and kisses your lips extra gentle. 

Ubbe "Hey.."

"Ubbe…" He walks over to you and hugs you gentle but with so much happiness and relief.

Hvitserk "Alright, let's get her out of here-"

Father "Y/n...can I have a word."

Ivar "NO! YOU HAVE SAID AND DONE ENOUGH!" 

Father "I want to apologize-"

"Apology not accepted. Hvitserk.." 

Hvitserk "Yeah, c'mere." He lifts you up and takes you out of the castle. When you are out, you see your dragon's flying ahead. 

"RYUU, ELDR, NEITH..!!" They hear you and land in front of you and Hvitserk. "Ahh my babies...oh I have missed you!"

Hvitserk "They have missed you, Y/n. They haven't eaten since you were taken...haven't slept."

"I am here now...everything will be okay now. Hvitserk...go get King Harald."

Hvitserk "Y/n?"

"...I want to see him burn." Hvitserk smirks and kisses your lips, then lifts you up so that you can lay down on Neith. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hvitserk returns and looks at Ubbe in a way that only Ubbe would know.

Ubbe "Hvitserk.."

Hvitserk "She wants him to burn for what he has done-"

Ubbe "Now is not the time."

Hvitserk "It is. Do you really think that we can all live in peace until this bastard is dead?!" Ubbe nods in agreement. 

Ivar "Now?"

Hvitserk "Now." 

Ivar walks ahead, "Well...it seems that my wife would like to see you one last time." Harald chuckles. 

Harald "I guess she just can't get enough of me!" Hvitserk wants to chop his head off with one clean slit to the neck but he knows that it will be more justified your way.

Harald stops right in front of Ivar and whispers, "Her pussy is just perfect. It is such a shame that you can't enjoy it yourself Ivar...I pity you." Ivar clenches his jaw and watches the man walk past him and out the door. 

Ubbe "Do not listen to him, Ivar. Do not let him win, hmm?" Ivar agrees and walks on.

…

You see the man walk in front of your boys, heading for you and your dragon's. 

Harald "Man...they are so much more incredible in person!"

"Yes they are...but they are not yours."

Harald "They will be one day, you'll see."

"...Ivar." Ivar takes out his dagger and puts it in Harald's throat. He began to gag and gasps for breath. He is choking on his own blood, as you have done for almost a week. Ivar and his brother's step back because they know what is coming next. Hvitserk gives you the 'now,' you look down at your dragon's and smirk.

"DRACARYS!" All three of your dragon's fire at King Harald and do not stop until they see the ashes fall to the ground. Ivar walks up and sees his wife on top of her dragon and smiles.

"Take me home."

Ivar "Gladly." Your father comes running up and startles Ivar and his men. They grab their weapons in preparation for an ambush.

Father "Y/n..please-"

"I will not forgive you-"

Father "I had no other choice! King Harald threatened my life... my kingdom."

"I am your daughter." He does not know what to say because he knows that you are right. Nothing else should come before you and your life. Even his kingdom. 

"I am leaving, and you will let me if you do not want your fate to end up like your friend over there." He looks down at the pile of ashes next to him, on the white snow. 

Father "I am sorry Y/n. For everything."

"No you are not. You are only sorry that I am going home, and leaving you with our angry people. So do not take me for a fool, father. Because I am no such thing." Ivar looks at you with admiration. Hvitserk does the same. Ubbe is observing with a clear mind and is ready to strike if your father attempts to cause you harm. Your father just stands there and takes your words. His eyes shedding crocodile tears. 

"I need to go home, before I don't make it home-"

Hvitserk "Y/n-?" He notices you starting to lean forward on Neith and grow even paler than before. He rushes to you and catches you when you fall off of her. Ubbe grabs your father and throws him on to the ground. 

Ubbe "Go back to your people, before I do not allow it!" Your father runs away as fast as he could. Ivar watches Hvitserk hold your body in his arm's, so weak and frail that you couldn't even hold up your own body anymore. 

Ivar "We need to get her home!" 

Hvitserk "I will put her in the boat! Hang in there, Y/n.. stay with me baby, come on. Stay with me." He said that all the way to the boat. He and Ivar held you in their arm's the whole way back to Kattegat, hoping and praying that you will pull through.

@hvitserkmarcosource @a-mess-of-fandoms @youbloodymadgenius @ivarsgoddess @jzr201 @conaionaru @ivarzeitgeist @herestherealproblem @heavenly1927 @saldelys

[mistwraiths]

2 stars

Apologies for the blurry picture but I couldn't seem to find a good one. The Crown of Gilded Bones is the third book in the From Blood and Ash series. I want everyone to know I'll be putting on my clown makeup after I post this review because despite rating the first two books low and having issues with them, I somehow deluded myself into thinking this one might be better! It wasn't and dare I say it I think this was the worst one by far.

I'm genuinely trying to find something good about this book ot at least something I really enjoyed. I do like that the books pick up right where the last book ends up. The first few chapters are pretty exciting. Around page 600, the last few chapters are fast paced and things are happening. Other than that, I can't really think of anything I really liked about the book.

Crown of Gilded Bones majorly suffers, like its predecessors, in the same four ways. Being too long, repetition, world information and building, and nothing important to the central story or plot happening for huge chunks of pages.

I firmly believe that all the books were half their length and the story beats were quicker coming and longer, it would be far more enjoyable. Instead you're forced to slog through inner monologues that don't add anything new, Poppy getting dressed by Casteel, showers, and other mundane parts. I thought knowing that it would be slow would help me enjoy the book but nope. The whole deciding to go to the realm of the gods literally doesn't happen until nearly the end of 500 pages in.

The worst part about the book being far too long and nothing happening is that when something does happen, it gets rehashed several times to the point where I, as a reader, am exhausted about reading about talking about it. I'm a big lover of communication. I love it when characters who are working together or are together tell each other important information and trust each other, but this is different. Once something happens, it gets talked about it detail for a handful of chapters, usually lasting longer than the actual event itself, and then is brought up again to go over, and then again. It's frustrating because I just want to move on but the story is so determined to go over everything again.

That's not the only instances of repetition. I know authors tend to reuse certain words over again. SJM and her "croon" and "toes curl" and "barked/roared". I can forgive stuff. I can look over Jennifer's constant use of dimples. The honeydew part is the most disgusting. I don't care what flavor Poppy's vagina is. There's a difference when it comes to the same thing happening with the near similar responses/situations being used over and over again as an attempt in humor but it falls flat after its been used several times. I'm talking about the "I have a question" "No one is surprised by that" parts and the Poppy being prone to violence makes Casteel horny and Poppy has to be like you're disturbing. If it showed up once or twice after the initial one, I could get over it. But it's reused every so many chapters. If it's an attempt at humor, it is a poor one.

This book is number three in a series and this book is still chock-full of world building and world information. I could possibly forgive it since I suppose at the start Jennifer didn't plan for a big fantasy series, but it's too much. There's so much information being crammed at you and it's in a very obvious way. Poppy asks and Kiernan or Casteel answers. That's pretty much the only way Poppy and the reader learns anything. At this point, I feel like I need a glossary and timeline because there is so much information.

In fact, despite nothing happening, l don't know how it still feels that there is a lot going on. There's the Solis problem. There's the Poppy should be queen problem. There's the people have concerns of Poppy being queen. There's the Unseen problem. Another Dark One problem? Poppy's lineage/past mystery. Something about waking up the Consort? And a little bit more. It's a lot.

In the second book, I liked Poppy (sort of), Casteel, and Kiernan. However, I find myself not liking any of them that much. From personality to saying similar things, they all feel very much the same character. There's not much difference in personalities or dialogue. About the only difference is that Kiernan is cool, Poppy is compassionate when it suits the narrative, and Casteel is protective. Other than that, there's not much of a difference between any of them.

Poppy is pretty much the same as always. Massively overpowered and incredibly special, doesn't know anything about her world that she lives in, and somehow despite being so special and powerful, she's kidnapped and hurt and then levels up again. We are forcefully spoon-fed how Poppy is so strong, so beautiful, so intelligent and clever. I haven't found one instance that I've been wow that was smart. Poppy's powers she inherently knows how to use perfectly the moment she gets them.

There's also almost no female interactions or female friendships with Poppy. Tawny was barely there in the first one but when she surprisingly shows up here, she's immediately rendered injured and unconscious. We're told Vonetta and Poppy are friends, but there's been almost no interactions. Vonetta gave her clothes once and then delivered a message later. Is that a basis for friendship? Vonetta eventually falls in a hole and Poppy saves her. That's about it. Ileana and Eloana are both older motherly types but also significant worrisome individuals for Poppy internally. Again, there's like one conversation each with them individually. Lyra is introduced to us by giving Kiernan a blow job but no interactions. Hisa and Nova are soldiers but no interactions. It's even mentioned that female draken are rare, but I'd argue that female characters are exceptionally rare. It's ridiculous. It's like there isn't any female that's allowed to have a moment of spotlight or competency other than Poppy. Poppy also has a moment of nastiness that's out of character when she threatens a woman who admitted to her that she had no interest in Casteel and Casteel had said the same and he wasn't interested in her, and she threatens to rip her limb from limb. It's so sudden and startlingly and leaves a terrible taste in my mouth.

As for Casteel, I no longer like him nor do I think he's a good guy. I think he's capable of good, being good, doing good but there's too many times where he's been vocal about killing anyone and burning his own kingdom down if Poppy doesn't get her own freedom of choice or what she want and what not. It's played out as the most truest love but to me, that's like a villain kind of love. If someone I loved burned down a city because I didn't get to choose what I wanted, I'd call the police. The craziest thing I had to read is people believing that Casteel would make a good king when he legitimately states that Poppy's needs comes before his own kingdom's needs. And if hers are met, the kingdom's could be met. That's not how any of that works!

He also does something incredibly reckless. I get it, he couldn't live without Poppy so he chooses to Ascend her. I can wrap my head around it. The fact of the matter is that Casteel refuses to take the blame or even entertain the consequences that could have resulted in that and how reckless it was. Poppy even refuses to allow the conversation. They are both like: I am not a vampry. Nothing bad happened so let's move on. It's astounding. Not only that but I felt it extremely odd that Poppy would have been okay with Casteel making her into a vampry, something incredibly dangerous and something she hates and would never want to be. It's just oh okay well luckily I didn't turn into one. And that's... it? It would have made good tension but no. Instead, they're just in love so much we have to listen to Casteel tell her how strong and beautiful she is every twenty pages.

I was excited to learn more about Kiernan but I still couldn't tell you much about him. Best friends with Casteel, a wolven, and he's always like "no one is surprised by Poppy having question". That's about all I know of him. Those are all things I knew about him in the second book.

Some other things I had issues with is that the villains are eager to spill everything about their plans. I feel like I'm watching a cartoon show with their villain monologues going on and on. Everyone except for Poppy is knowledgeable about everything!! People are constantly apologizing for things they have no control of. Characters somehow know exactly what to say to Poppy all the time like mind reading. I'm annoyed that the gods realm and the draken were such short parts.

When the reveals and the action which took 600 pages to get to happened, I really couldn't find myself caring. Reading felt like a chore. I'm not worried about any of the characters. I don't know if I'm interested anymore in reading this series because it feels like work trying to read it. I'm here for enjoyment and I'm not having a good time.

[static-fanatic-1]

Before We Begin

-| Stuck at a StandStill |-

StandStill: Prologue

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Mentions of blood and broken bones, Bullying, Anxiety attacks, Creepy behavior.

A girl covered in blood and dirt howled, scrapping at the concrete slab that had fallen on her leg with cracked nails. Fat tears streamed down her rosy cheeks when it seemed as if no one was coming for her, her once silvery eyes now blood shot from crying. "Papa!" The little girl hyperventilated when she was given no reply, hand shaking as blood pooled underneath the fallen debris, is this how she dies? Barely even ten and crushed by debris caused by a villain? "Momma! Daddy!"

Thousands of questions ran inside her head, shaking her body to the core with the unrelenting fear of death. The small girl croaked out a long cry, tears and snot making her look all the more pathetic as she flutily clawed at the concrete. "Papa! Papa-!" Loud shifting resonated from above, the fallen walls of the large building she was in moving aside to make way for a hulking figure. Whoever it was was framed in an ethereal, golden glow from the setting sun, like an angel sent from heaven to save the ten-year-old.

The bulky figure swiftly tossed away the fallen wall and jumped down into the cavern, flinging the concrete slab like it was a leaf and wrapping the child in his large arms. His muscles tensed at the loud booms above, the villain clearly ruining more of the city, but that did nothing to deter the figure's bright smile when he looked down. "What's your name, kid?" His voice will be forever engrained in her memory as an enthusiastic theatrical of hope.

"Aiko." The little girl meekly replied, curling into his muscular arms for some form of comfort.

"Well Aiko Shonen, everything will be fine. Why? Because I am here, All Might!" The bunny like hairs on his head waved as his smile only grew. Aiko only ever felt so safe around her papa, and this All Might figure made her feel just as safe as she would feel in her papa's arms.

A deep rumble echoed through the cavern, the hero's smile faltering the slightest bit, but quickly returned when he crouched down and jumped out of the cavern. Wind rushed through her long white drapes, her doe like eyes glowing from the immense strength the blond possessed. An old man dressed in hero's wear sped past All Might, the little girl following the yellow blur to what was happening behind her.

That was a mistake.

A deep feeling of dread washed over the entirety of Aiko small frame and made her feel utterly sick. A man clad in a crisp black suit loomed above all else. Red lightning like sparks shooting through the sky as his bulky frame floated above the toppled buildings and skyscrapers. Just how many bodies were under those buildings? And that mask, that terrifying, black, skull-like mask would forever be burned into her memory like a horribly large scar. Under his pristine black shoes were villains and heroes alike, bloodied and broken and dying.

A large hand turned her facing the sunset, a beautiful display of deep purples and bloody reds littered with fluffy stained clouds. "Don't worry, Aiko Shonen... you are safe now." All Might's bright, toothy grin brought her only more discomfort, it felt strained and off, as if he didn't believe his own words.

A certain yellow blur knocked Aiko and All Might out of the sky and into the debris of a near by building, a loud boom and an intense vacuum of air brushing past. The larger than life blond shielded her from the fall, sliding down and holding her close to his heaving chest. "Toshinori, watch out! Don't look away for one second or you'll give him the advantage!" Scolded the older man, not realizing All Might was carrying a small child in his arms.

"Perfect timing Gran Torino, take Aiko Shonen and get her out of here!" He handed her off to the elder, leaving nothing but dust in his wake as he jumped back into the fight. "Have Nighteye take her somewhere safer!"

Gran Torino swiftly pulled her into his arms and dashed away from the villain. The two made it safely out of the danger zone, a new, slim figure running to Torino. "Take her, T-All Might needs my help against All For One." His gruff voice reverberated off the fallen walls of what used to be a wealthy district. Once again, she was thrust into the hold of another hero, wincing at her broken leg.

Sir. Nighteye dashed across the debris ridden streets, blood and bodies littering them like trash. Aiko whimpered and curled in on herself, each and every detail of the villain attack being engraved into her brain. Not even a moment later she was given to a random citizen, probably a nurse or doctor from a nearby hospital. The citizen took her somewhere safer, away from the villains and heroes.

Aiko looked back one more time, All For One and All Might clashing against each other like titans or gods fighting for the mortal realm. Maybe that's what the fight is about, two titans fighting for power over the weak. That's what it looked like at least, wind pressure from their attacks brought more walls toppling down. She bit her bottom lip, being carried away from the carnage of the clashing gods.

~~~

White hair rushed through the small bedroom, scrambling to find her favorite pencil she must have dropped last night. She ducked under her bedframe, no not there, what about under her desk? Not there either. "Come on!" She whined, shuffling through sketchbooks and notebooks for the fifth time just to find her favorite mechanical pencil. "Oh, thank god!" She exclaimed, grabbing the old pencil, and stuffing it into her bag.

Quickly she collected the rest of her things and rushers out of her room. "Aiko! Hurry up you're going to be late!" Yelled her mother, a woman with a thin yet pear shaped frame and deep bags under her dull violet eyes. A messy bun made of curly turquoise hair rest upon her head. Her shrill voice echoed through the halls and into her room, drenching the little girl with a new sense of urgency.

"I'm leaving!" She reaffirmed. She dashed through the house to the front door. Slipping off her house shoes she quickly put on her outside shoes before opening the door.

"Oi! Aiko, where's my goodbye kiss?" Snarled a new figure, large and muscular with deep brown hair and yellow eyes. He tapped a thick finger against his cheek as he leaned closer to his adopted daughter's form.

Quickly she slipped off her outside shoes, she had quickly learned to never wear them on the floor, and leaned to kiss the man on the cheek. She returned to the front and waved a goodbye as she scurried out of the small house.

The young girl brushed her white hair out of her face, her roller blades now clipped onto the bottom of her shoes. Slinging her backpack securely on her back, she dipped out of the front yard and skated her way to public school.

Wind rushed through long locks of hair, her curly bangs framing her face as she sped through the busy sidewalks. Wide, hopeful, doe-like eyes watched the trees blur past. People and faces smudged by her speed, a grumpy pedestrian yelling at her to slow down. "Sorry sir!" She yelled back.

Aiko sighed at the sight of pink Sakura trees in the distance, indicating how close she was to her school. Skating past the iron gates and into the school, she threw her shoes into her locker and rushed into her homeroom class with only a few seconds to spare.

The skinny teacher glared at her. "You were almost late, again." His hands fell to his hips in a relaxed pose, eyes boring into the much smaller figure. If you moved his impossibly long blond bangs you would be able to see the orange, slitted eyes he had.

"Sorry Hagake Sensei, I woke up late again." She scratched the back of her neck and waved an apology.

"You can't be late if you want to be a hero, Aiko." He scolded, the thin tail and small cat ears waving disapprovingly. "Anyway, everyone here wants to be a hero so I'll go ahead and give you all the course selections." The cat-quirk teacher stalked through the desks, handing out papers that would change everyone's lives.

"Komori, you were going for UA right? Aiko, you too?" She sheepishly nodded when the orange eyes glanced into her own, taking thick strands of her hair and covering her mouth and cheeks with it. A habit she had developed after the incident. Her ice blue eyes looked over to the other name called, a young yet surprisingly fit boy with an impressive quirk.

Komori, a young man with a bat quirk and the physic to make it powerful. He was tall for his age, with a slim yet strong build, the only thing that wasn't conventionally attractive were the thick glasses on his button nose. But even then he made them look good. He had large ears, long fangs, a thin tail and huge wings draped behind his back. Pale, almost grey skin, with sharp purplish-red eyes complimented his short, yet messy, black hair.

————————————————

Name: Komori Suzuki

Quirk: Bat Mix

Quirk Details: Komori's quirk is pretty self-explanatory, he is a bat. Wings, tail, ears and fangs, he has both White-Winged Flying Fox (Mother—Kistune Suzuki) and Common Vampire Bat (Father—Kyūkestuki Suzuki). He has the best of both bats at his disposal.

————————————————

He cackled. "Ha! Really? That coward can't become a hero! Look at her, and her quirk is useless for hero work. The only thing she's good at is being a housewife!" Waving his leathery wings and kicking his feet up on the desk he continued to laugh at her flustered expression.

Komori could only be described as a misogynistic bastard. Aiko and him used to be friends, but when he was young he started all misogynistic towards her, typically using the housewife card against her. Still, throughout the years the two of them stuck around each other. Maybe it was a sense of familiarity between the two of them?

The girl shrunk into her chair, pulling her hair closer to her face. "I can be a hero...." Her soft tone drifted off until nothing but a pen dropping could be heard.

"Eh? What was that? You want to be a hero to avenge your old man?" He jumped on the desk and leaned down, the pearly fangs flashing dangerously. "There's no way you'd be able to do that, you can't to anything for yourself! You're just a damn damsel in distress, so give up."

The teacher glared at him and smacked a clawed hand on the back of his neck. "Shut it Komori! You'll never be a hero with that attitude!" Sensei growled and handed the both of you your papers. "It won't hurt to try, Aiko." He reassured with a pat on the girl's shoulder.

"R-right." Komori got up from the floor and glared at the teacher comforting the smaller girl. He scoffed and returned to his desk, there was no reason for him to be so mean to her, but he did anyway. Maybe he took a sadistic pleasure in messing with her.

"Anyway, this is due tomorrow," waved the teacher as he sauntered back up to the front of the rowdy class. "I forgot to give it to you guys on Monday so don't forget. If you guys don't turn it in tomorrow you won't be going to a hero school." He waited for an answer, his eye twitching when he didn't get one. "Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" Yelled the class.

~~~

Aiko leaned on her tippy toes to grab her outside shoes and clip-on roller blades, jumping when a clawed hand slammed beside her locker. She squealed and whipped around, coming face to face with collared shirt. "Wh-What do you want, Komori?"

Glazed over plum eyes glared through thick lenses. "Why do you even want to be a hero? It's not like you'll be able to fix what the villain did so you should just give up." His throat rumbled a growl. "Seriously, you should just leave it to me, I'll get the job done unlike you." The violent eyes hardened slightly at her scared expression. "Seriously, Sweetheart, you'll get your weak-ass self hurt."

The white haired girl glanced up and shriveled into the locker. "I-I'm still going to try... Sensei said I should."

Komori opened his mouth as if he was about to say something but was interrupted by a few other delinquents. He scoffed when she dipped past his arms and wings and ran out of the school, struggling to run and clip on her skates. "When are you gonna kiss her Komori? Seriously you've been closing in on her from the beginning." Chattered one friend.

"Oh fuck off, she's just going to get herself killed." The aspiring bat hero puffed his chest and flared his wings. "And what type of hero would I be if I didn't try to save a lady-in-waiting, huh?"

Aiko stumbled past the school gates, recommendation paper in hand. Once she made it far enough she dipped into a dark alleyway and curled onto the ground. Fat yet silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she did her best to calm her anxiety. The girl tightly gripped her hair and shoved it in her face trying to calm herself. "Breathe... breathe... breathe...." She chanted.

Slowly but surely her anxiety levels died down with her calming strategy. She wiped away her tears and sipped on the last of her left over water. "Brrreeeeaaaaatttthhhhheeee...." She tensed at the buzz in her pocket, pulling out her small flip phone to see who texted her.

[Mr. Takahashi] 'Get some Tokoyaki on the way home.'

[Aiko] 'Yes Sir.'

She bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brows, waiting for a reply, luckily there was none so she relaxed. Taking her leave out of the alleyway, the small girl made her way over to the best Tokoyaki shop nearby.

A loud boom erupted out of the same street the shop was on, Aiko worriedly rushing over to the sound. Smoke covered the skies as more explosions went off. A chattery crowd formed at the street entrance, but Aiko wasn't worried about what was happening. She quickly pulled out her phone and started texting.

[Aiko] 'I'm sorry, I'm going to be late. The shopping district is under attack by a villain.'

She worriedly waited for a reply, doing her best to shuffle through the crowd to get a good look at the commotion. A blond, skeleton of a man coughed his way next to you, leaning on a lamppost and looking above the crowd. "Sir? What-what is going on?"

The blond slightly jumped in surprise at the delicate voice, looking down and taking in the little girl standing before him. Something about her seemed familiar, though he couldn't exactly place it. "A villain, nothing to worry about the heroes will take care of it." In all honesty, he couldn't exactly see everything that was going on. Between the explosions and smoke, all he could see was the sludge villain he failed to detain.

His deep, sultry voice calmed her, but the intense expression he wore had the opposite effect. Biting her bottom lip, she shuffled her way to the front of the crowd. Pedestrians around her worriedly talking to themselves, every time another explosion went off they would flinch. She would too.

Finally squeezing to the front of the crowd she saw what was happening. An ash-blond, about her age, writhed inside the sludge monster, gasping every time he could get some air. He screamed when his mouth was free, a violent cry for help that no hero seemed to be answering.

Aiko took a step closer, the water hero yelling at her to stay back. "He-He needs help! He'll die if no one helps him!" She screamed back, staring at the hero with a pleading expression. "You guys need to save him!"

"We can't, no one here can stop that villain. We are holding off until someone more prepared saves him!"

'He can't wait that long', she thought, looking at the frustrated features of the blond middle schooler. But she waited, too afraid to mess up and make things worse. Her quirk would only make things worse.

Anxiously she held her hair to her face, waiting for someone more adapt to the villain to save whoever was trapped. People happily cheered a new hero, Mt. Lady running to the scene. She stopped however, obviously she wouldn't be able to help with her quirk.

The small female was pushed to the side, another middle schooler, this time with fluffy dark green hair, stared at the scene in front of him. His freckles face contorted to a look of pure horror, a strained voice quietly calling out a name. "Kacchan!"

She watched as his feet controlled his body, taking him into the smoke ridden streets to the sludge monster. She gasped and lunged forward to grab him but missed, the small boy slipping through her fingers.

"Kacchan!" He yelled, tossing his backpack into the villain's face.

Aiko watched with admiration for the obviously weaker boy who ran in like a true hero. The ash blond also thrashing with strength and aggression she would never have. Unlike Aiko, they looked like they would be fine heroes.

She is a coward, too afraid to even try in fear of ruining everything. It reminded her of what happened six years ago, how helpless she was when all hell broke loose, how she was saved by All Might before loosing everything. She was frustrated, small tears dripping down her face at her pathetic display of bravery.

Wind smacked her long hair in her face, bringing her back to the present. It was him, All Might! The best hero to ever exist rushing to stop the bad guy and save the kids.

With a single punch, her hero saved the day. The once blue skies turning a dark grey and drenching the debris covered streets. Her tears replaced by cold rain as the crowd waited for All Might to make a move.

He raised his fist high, stumbling only Aiko seemed to notice, but remained victorious none the less. The once silent crowd burst into cheers, praises and hallelujahs for the savior of the two middle schoolers.

A ping from her pocket took her away from the heroic sight. With a heavy hand the little girl looked at the messages flooding her texts.

[Mr. Takahashi] 'Hurry up.'

Quickly she replied back.

[Aiko] 'Yes Sir.'

She would have to appreciate All Might and the middle schoolers online once she got back home. Swiftly Aiko squeezed past the crowd and skated over to the nearest Tokoyaki stall.

~~~

Unlocking the front door and balancing the packaged Tokoyaki drained the last of Aiko's energy. She took off her shoes and plopped the food onto the kitchen counter.

Mrs. Takahashi undid the wrapping, disregarding the younger girl and the paper in her hands. "Go do your homework, Aiko."

"You have to sign this. It's for the hero courses I want to sign up for." A small hand calmly pushed the paper in front of her adopted mother, a delicate smile upon her features.

"Fine, here." The azure haired woman signed the paper, the man of the household walking up behind the two.

"Hero courses huh? You better sign up for UA and get in, you'd be able to pay for our retirement!" The brown haired man bellowed, taking some of the food Aiko brought home and stuffing it into his mouth. "Seriously, you better get into UA." He scolded through chewing.

"Yes sir, I was planning on doing that." Thinking about All Might, the middle schoolers and all the reasons she want to be a hero to begin with, if she had the opportunity she would take it. This was her opportunity and no one would change her mind.

She took her food and went to her room, finishing up her homework and taking a shower. Now with her sleepwear on, all her homework finished, she plopped into her bed.

Aiko's light blue eyes glanced over to a treasured photo, the moonlight seeping from the closed blinds providing just enough light to illuminate the three of the six figures. She was very young when her family took the picture, her host mother and host father's smiles bringing a pang of joy through her heart. Her host mother had long, pink hair and a curvaceous body, while her host father was a muscular lean figure with pitch black skin and sharp teeth.

The fifteen year old decided to wear a yellow sundress that day, a big smile knowing her family was standing behind her. She wished they were still here and she wasn't with Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi... but that was too much to wish for.

She curled in on herself under the thick covers, letting the sweet memories of her past lull her into a dreamless slumber.

[ducktracy]

172. porky’s railroad (1937)

release date: august 7th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (porky, bull), billy bletcher (rival conductor)

frank tashlin’s love of streamline design is incorporated into this fast-paced cartoon about life on the railroad: it’s up to porky and his “percolator on a roller skate” to win a race against an uppity conductor and his streamline shoe-in.

the typography lettering the animated title card melt away to reveal a rather complex steam train, chugging along to a merry score of a stalling favorite, “california, here i come”. as to be expected with frank tashlin, we’re treated to close-ups of the train (usually in conjunction with the music score): bells, whistles, wheels and all. some footage of the train itself has been reused time and time again, dating as far back as the buddy era, but the close-ups and camera angles add a layer of freshness to it. the train hurtles straight towards the audience, labeled triumphantly “the 30th century limited -- the railroad’s crack train”, a take on new york central’s 20th century limited train.

for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. iris in to the antithesis of the crack train, a sluggish, bulky locomotive named “toots”, headed by porky pig himself. tashlin takes a job towards hi (least) favorite porcine as the text narrates: “the 15th century unlimited - also a crack train. everything cracked -- including the engineer”. the typography is expertly done, the “15th century” lettering done in an old, archaic font. it’s all too easy to take font for granted these days--remember, these are all hand-painted letters, including title cards!

porky and his crack train toots are headed straight for piker’s peak, a daunting mountain whose height is pronounced in camera pans. the camera pans up a layout painting of the mountain, and then we get a wide-angle distance shot of the train itself attempting to chug forth. to assert the unreliability of the train and its speed, or lack thereof, porky observes a snail scaling up the mountain at lightning pace in comparison. finally, the train stalls out all together.

cut to an overhead angle of porky inside the conductor’s booth, where he reaches into a compartment and withdraws a pepper shaker (a brief closeup of the pepper shaker dispelling any confusion as to what’s in the pig’s hand.) with that, porky shakes the pepper shaker over a burning candle situated where the engine is--note his tail uncoiling and recoiling with each shake--and, predictably, the train begins to sneeze its way uphill, porky giving his blessing with a polite “gesundheit.”  

soon enough, the sneezes grow rapid, and the train speeds over top the mountain like it was nothing. a habit of his, tashlin gets a bit too trigger happy and cuts too quickly for the gag to sink in--the caboose and a few of the box cars actually fly off the tracks on account of the speed. props for conveying such fast speeds, but it’s a little too fast, a problem area of tashlin’s at times. nevertheless, we’re greeted with more layouts of the scenery, motion conveyed by a camera moving closer to the backgrounds. at one point, the train even goes through a very short tunnel. the camera movements of the early LT cartoons can be janky at times, but here they’re conducted very well.

next, a bird’s eye view of porky’s train traversing a number of intertwining tracks. whoever animated this next scene, my hat is off to you--the boxcars all weave in and out of different tracks in a rather short yet complex bit of animation before realigning on one single track. very well executed and very fun, just one of the few scenes that make me say “i’m glad i didn’t have to animate that!”

unbeknownst to porky, however, is a train hurtling right in his direction. porky finally takes note, and hurriedly pulls his train up to an adjacent track just by a depot. however, the caboose is still on the track. at the very last minute, he manages to squeeze in and pull foreward JUST as the train roars by, giving an audibly “whew!” of relief (which i believe is bob bentley animation.) the layout of the two trains “colliding” is nice, but the scene itself has some execution issues: porky pulling up is a bit too quick and looks comically unnatural, and the odd crunching sound effect makes it sound as though the oncoming train actually did collide with the caboose.

porky doesn’t have much time to relax as he’s back on the rails. even tugging on the whistle wildly does nothing to alert the obstacle in front of him, yet thankfully he manages to squeal to a stop. he’s greeted with an obstacle that has haunted cartoon characters for years: it  halted oswald in 1927 with trolley troubles, it plighted mickey and minnie in 1928 with plane crazy, it stopped bosko and honey a mere two years later in sinkin’ in the bathtub, and now porky is up to battle: a cow lying in the middle of the tracks.

carl stalling switches from “california, here i come” to a slow, lumbering yet fitting rendition of “rural rhythm” to accommodate the lazy cow chewing on some grass. the animation of the cow is rather amusing--her tail is high in the air, her exaggerated cycle of chewing is great, and the detail of her haphazardly cracking an eye open to pay porky any mind is another plus. 

stepping off the train, porky opts to bargain with her with a polite tip of the hat. “excu-uh-excu-uh-pardon me, uh-muh-meh-missus cow, will you eh-keh-keh-kindly get off the t-teh-eh-teh-track?” despite his efforts, coupled with another tip of the hat and a smile, mrs. cow stays right put, barely acknowledging porky’s presence. porky’s attempts to make pleasantries quickly fade away in favor of a more hostile attitude, telling her to amscray (putting the “pig” in “pig latin”, i see!) and calling her a mess of T-bones, all while pushing her from behind. 

finally, the cow does step off the tracks on her own, prompting porky to fall flat on the tracks as she lazily stalks away. porky fumes as he marches back onto his train, ranting about how cows like her give milk a bad name, how she can’t give sweet milk with a sour puss like that, etc. 

enter the bull. the bull’s entrance is great: i love the bristling hairs, the assertive glare at the camera, the missing tooth, the flared nostrils. stalling’s score of “rural rhythm” is also wonderfully moody and alert. the bull marches across the tracks and hides behind a bush, with only its tail exposed. porky, not typically known for his intelligence, thinks it’s the cow from before and grows confrontational. “so, you weh-won’t walk, eh? i'll sheh-show you, you feh-four-legged eh-peh-piece of hamburger!” porky tugs on the aggravated bull’s tail before cursing at the bull (which is just dialogue reversed. reversed, the dialogue is “...toots, old gal. don’t pop your...” you can hear a comparison here.) the bull grunts, causing porky to rush back to his train and hurtle across the tracks in a flash. don’t quote me on this, as i’m not 100% sure, but i believe the animation of porky and the bull may be joe d’igalo...?

spark the ever prevalent Tashlin Montage: up-angles of disjointed hands tapping away on a telegraph to communicate the message (that comes out on a paper strip) “stop porky’s train”. more cinematic angles of brakes being pulled, barriers being put up. porky himself screeches his trusty train to a halt, waiting outside the depot as a paper rolls across a wire line to him. he grabs it and observes the news:

“streamline train” is highlighted, and sure enough, we fade to meet tashlin’s streamlined fantasy, a sleek feat of modern architectural design barreling down the tracks, named THE SILVER FISH. there’s a nice little intricate piece of animation as the train weaves closer into view, the conductor tipping his hat to the audience with a commanding grin. 

elsewhere, porky bids his train a tearful goodbye. “au rev-v-vo... au rev-v-v... au rev-v-v--goodbye, teh-t-toots old gal. parting is seh-seh-such sweet seh-seh-sorrow...” however, william shakespig has little time to mourn his loss, for the silver fish itself comes whipping into place in the adjacent track, nearly knocking porky off his feet in the process. 

ever the good sport, porky marches over to greet the conductor (towering feet above him) and wish him good luck. as he sticks his hand out, “mr. silver fish” reaches down and grabs porky, shaking him vigorously. the animation being shot on one’s paired with mel blanc’s near-incomprehensible cries for help pair together for a nice gag. porky flops to the ground, his lowly status only confirmed as the conductor (voiced by billy bletcher) regards his train: “saaay, what is that? a percolator on a roller skate?” the train deflates from the insult, coupled with bletcher’s signature laugh.

volney white animates porky’s close-up as he mutters to the audience “i’ll buh-be-beh-be-bet my eh-t-teh-t-tootsie can beh-beh-beat his old eh-seh-seh-eh-seh-silver fish.” the camera pans out as the conductor lurches into view, picking up porky by his tail and giving him a few pokes in the eye stooges style as he sneers “oh yeah? it’s a bet. we’ll have a race and see!” volney’s animation is very well executed, very dimensional.

fade to reveal both trains on adjacent tracks, complete with a referee toting a starter pistol. tashlin’s need for speed is unmistakable--as soon as the referee fires, the silver fish rockets off in a cloud of smoke, leaving porky’s old train tangled in a pretzel (complete with a score of “you’re a horses ass.) 

the cartoon, at least for me (i am a tad biased on account of my unabashed love for porky), has been rather enjoyable up to this point, but here’s where things get sour. it’s literally 5 seconds, but enough to be incredibly uncomfortable and infuriating: the silver fish rushes past a woodpile (explicitly labeled as such), revealing a black caricature sitting beneath it. the gag itself is based off of an incredibly racist saying synonymous to “a fly in the ointment” or “a skeleton in the closet”--it’s in extremely poor taste and more than uncomfortable. i love frank tashlin, he’s one of my favorite directors, but this leaves a sour taste in my mouth, even if it was 83 years ago. 

nevertheless, the silver fish speeds through a tunnel with such frightening speeds that it actually turns the tunnel inside out--the animation is a bit matter of fact, and thus the gag doesn’t reach the amount of potential as, say, porky pulling his entire garage inside out, but working with a tunnel also poses flexibility issues. it’s easier for a garage to appear rubbery than a tunnel. the silver fish screeches to a halt near a harbor as the bridges raise to let a boat through. it is then when a fish caricature of mae west pops out of the water, spotting the silver fish and cooing “oh boy, what a man!” the tashlin looney tunes shorts of the 1940s would use burlesque and sex comedy as a main topic for lampooning--this is a neat little precursor to that. 

porky finally gets his share of screen time, chugging along frantically. the animation of him pulling on the whistle is incredibly smooth--judging by the complexity of the train and the thickness of porky’s eyebrows, i’d wage this as bob bentley animation. the bridges raise to pass another ship through, the S.S. leon. yes, as in leon schlesinger, who was actually a boatsman! according to a 1939 trade paper, schlesinger was a skipper--he’d bought actor richard arlen’s yacht (named dijo) and rebranded it as, fittingly, the merrie melody. porky’s train rushes right across the bow of the S.S. leon, bringing back a few unwarranted treasures in the process: a life preserver and a singing sailor in a lifeboat (singing “don’t give up the ship”), dangling from pulleys attached to a boxcar.

the temperamental bull from before makes another appearance, watching porky’s train speed by from the hilltops. mel blanc provides the bull’s raspy monologue as the bull recalls his prior experience with porky--”he can’t get away with a thing like that, i’ll show him!” 

sure enough, the bull rushes onto the tracks, bellows out a roar, and rams into porky’s train at the speed of light, literally just a mass of dry brushed streaks. the animation of the bull plowing into boxcars like nobody’s business is more than satisfying to watch. the lack of a music score, just the chuffing of porky’s engine, adds a greater burst to the bull’s impact when he makes contact with the train. the bull, as it turns out, does porky a favor: as he collides with porky’s section of the train, the impact is enough to send him flying. that is, flying right over the befuddled head of the silver fish’s conductor. conveniently, porky lands right across the finish line, where he’s met with cheers and applause from the stands. the underdog wins at last.

iris in onto the side of the silver fish. we pan out to reveal the conductor, a happy porky pig waving his hat in the air in a direct parallel to the conductor’s initial debut. despite the upbeat, celebratory nature, we meet a rather morbid end: the camera pans back to reveal a crushed and mangled toots, a sign draped over it reading “headin’ for the last roundhouse”. iris out.

for its time, this is a very fun and lively cartoon. as to be expected in a tashlin cartoon, the camera angles are divine as always, and the fast-paced cutting, although a bit too fast at times, adds a nice bit of exhilaration to the cartoon. the race between porky and the conductor truly does feel like a race and leaves you breathless at parts. carl stalling’s music score is a joy like always, and the backgrounds are beautifully painted. there are some really unique pans and camera angles of just the layouts alone. tashlin has a fine concept of speed--more than fine, really. he serves as a rather suitable competitor to tex avery in that department. in some cases, he may even surpass him. my only true gripe with the cartoon is the incredibly racist gag--it can be easily skipped, it’s very much a throwaway gag that the cartoon’s success doesn’t rely on, but it does sour my glowing review quite a bit.

nevertheless, this is a fun, early porky entry that’s worth a watch. the racist gag is around 5:28-5:33 in the link i provided.

link! 

(you can also watch the short on HBOmax if you have it--that’s where i got the screenshots from!)

[peacefulspock]

The Quodo Fic I'll Never Write

[[Alright, I'll post what I have then! It's pretty bare bones but I couldn't get the idea of Quark leading Odo on a galaxy wide goose chase out of my head. Thank you to @boomdeyadah for cleaning this up enough to share 😚]]

☆☆☆☆☆

Odo has been gone 5 years, and while he enjoys his time in the Link he never can quite stop thinking about his friends. In fact, the longer he's gone the more he worries what kind of mischief Quark in particular is getting up to.

His thoughts are too individual, can't truly harmonize with the Link. In an effort to stop the dissonance, the mass conscious redoubles it efforts to truly absorb Odo. He's almost wooed by the ease of it all until he realizes he's lost an entire 8 months to the Link’s latest effort. Time. It's the concept of time that truly and finally drags him out of the swirling, golden ocean of his people. He has all the time in the universe. Quark does not. Quark will grow old and die and he could miss it all if he lost himself to the Link.

"I'll just go visit. That's all. I'll keep an eye on Quark until he passes because somebody has to make sure he's not up to no good."

Just keeping everyone else's pockets safe and then he'll go home. The link would still be there after all.

So he goes, not wanting to acknowledge the relief he feels while docking at the station or the gentle warmth that settles over him at seeing Kira and his old friends. Until he gets the news and it’s like someone filled his old bucket with cold water and dumped it on his head. Quark is gone. Missing. Has been for over a year. And of course Quark would be so pleased to know that people looked for him. Extensively. Even a year later Rom and Kira are still regularly discussing any new clues to his whereabouts.

"I never thought I'd miss that little gremlin, Odo, but this station isn't half as fun without him. Don't tell him I said that when we finally find him, though."

Kira is sympathetic and Odo might be sick to his stomach if he had one. He tries not to think of Quark lying dead on some backwater planet in the wilderness, or curled up in some rotten back alley after a deal gone wrong. He'd probably just scammed someone big time and scuttled off to a random moon to enjoy his stolen riches.

It takes Odo a day to decide he's going to personally find Quark after some catching up with his friends and colleagues. It's all of three days before his nerves have him saying goodbye and shipping out at warp like a man on a mission.

"The quicker I get this over with, the better," he tells himself.

He's already read over the case file a dozen times, poured over every detail. He estimates it'll take him a week to find Quark. A week comes and goes. Then two. A month. Three months. It's six months before he gets a real break and boy is it a revelation. He's going through a small, barely lived in room on a no-name freighter light-years away from the station when it hits him. Quark had been here. Maybe for weeks. He'd been here and clearly caught wind of Odo barreling at him through space because he'd left in a hurry. The sheets were still wrinkled and a hastily scribbled note was left for him on a dingy table.

[[Go away, I didn't break any laws. Leave me alone. Don't you have anything better to do than harass me?]]

No, he doesn't. Quark really was on the run. From him. He doesn't want to see Odo at all. Odo  contemplates letting him go, albeit briefly. Quark probably has a reason for avoiding him. Something criminal no doubt. So he's going to try even harder to find him. He has to see him again at least once. Then he'll really go home, for sure. He was going to arrest Quark for whatever crime he had clearly committed and then leave.

Except, it takes two years to catch Quark. That's a long time to think about why you're still after a man that you've pretended to hate. Ample time to consider that all the evidence says Quark really HASN'T committed a crime and yet you’re still using it as an excuse. Too much time to ponder the unwanted ache his absence has left since the moment YOU left HIM on DS9 without so much as a goodbye. Two years is a long time for him realize he's let self-sabotage and uncertainty get in the way of what relatively little time he can get with Quark compared to his own long, indeterminate lifespan.

What has he done? What has he done? Visions of Quark walking away for good this time fill him with dread.

"Can I fix this?"

He's determined to try. Over the long months it becomes clear Quark is intentionally leaving him clues here or there so his trail never grows cold. Sometimes letting Odo get so close he swears he sees the flash of coattails out of the corner of his eye. He's not sure exactly why Quark is leading him on but it's all the hint he needs to keep searching.

Finally, FINALLY, the game of cat and mouse is over and he's got his eyes on Quark for the first time in almost a decade. They're on a remote planet in the middle of nowhere and there's a tension between them as heavy as the years Odo has wasted. He doesn't even get a word in before Quark is pushing him, face already warm with angry tears. He fires off questions and insults quick as a knife and Odo listens patiently.

"Who do you think you are?"

"It's been years, I said leave me be."

"Why can't you leave well enough alone?"

"I never wanted to see you again anyways."

Odo doesn't know what to say but he talks anyways.

"Why did you leave? I would have left you alone if you'd asked on the station."

It's not accusatory but Quark reacts like it is.

"You're one to talk about leaving! You walked away without looking back!"

It's true. Odo knows it's true and some piss poor apology isn't enough to fix it but he still gives one, still says everything he's been too afraid to say. Quark is all hissing and righteous anger until Odo cradles his face and quietly asks if they can try again. Because saying I love you was still too hard, too vulnerable but it was the TRUTH. Had been before he'd left, too, and leaving for the Link had been like a breakup even if neither had said so.

"I won't leave again. I promise. Who else is going to keep you on your toes? I'll even sign a contract if you want."

And THAT sounds suspiciously like marriage but Quark latches onto it anyways.

"Damn right you'll stay. I don't have the funds to keep running from you anyways."

It's not perfect, of course, but it's a start. That first kiss, desperate and clumsy as it is, really helps seal the deal. Since neither really HAS to be back on DS9 anytime soon, they're on the planet enjoying each other in peace another few months before Quark is itching to check on his bar.

Later, they're still the bickering old fools they've always been, but even a blind man could see the open fondness they have for one another. Quark never ends up making a contract but he likes to threaten to every chance he gets. Odo smiles a bit too warm while he says he doesn't recall agreeing to sign any contract, and holds Quark's hand a little too gently for the teasing to have any weight.

[karkkidoeswriting]

Hi! I'm not a plotter exactly, but I don't fully pants either and I'm a fellow dingus ADHD brainer, so I think I might be able to give some possibly helpful ideas (hopefully)!

I have the issue where I can't know where the story is going, if I'm not fully immersed in it which usually happens when writing, but I also can write or immerse myself into the story, if I don't know where the story is going. So that makes it kinda difficult. I don't have a perfect method that works for me all the time, but I have found some things that help me unravel this problem. Firstly, letting go of the idea of a perfect method has freed me to do what works for me in the moment and for the story. For my ADHD at least it's really crucial that I follow the inspiration and not force myself to follow any specific steps, as it will quickly burn out my motivation and creativity. So I get an idea for a scene, I write it. It might never end up in the draft but it's a good way to get to know the characters and develop their voices. I have ideas for worldbuilding for example, I write them down and develop them further, etc. So I grab every idea and inspiration and use them to dive into the story and eventually the different strands find connections and I can weave them together into a whole.

I have a general process though, but as said, it's not straightforward. I almost always start with developing characters and the world. I can't plan for the plot in any level of detail except like very general ideas before I have pretty good idea of the characters and the world, the plot emerges for me from their interaction. At first is mostly just writing ideas down and developing them further. Then when I start to have more meat in the story, I write into a simple list very general beats of the story. It's usually very short, just the bare bones. I also at this point write down in a similar list every major character's story arc, still very short and general. After that I will do a list of all the plotlines and subplots I need to have to reach the end of those arcs and the beats of the story (I tend to have big casts with many storylines). Then for every plotline and subplot, I'll do a list of the beats they need to be accomplished. This is still pretty general, I don't come up with scenes for this. Once I have them, I go back to the broad beats of the story and put all the plotlines together into one storyline fleshing out the bare bones of the story. Then it's fairly easy to divide it into chapters. I plan the chapters by having some sort of change or shift happen in the story in each of them. That will be the goal of the chapter and I fill in some more granular plot points to get there. I might not be able to come up with them in the later chapters before I start drafting but I fill them in as I go. While planning the plot at the same time I'm further developing the world, as more ideas emerges for one aspect of the story as think about another aspect. And it never goes as simply as I've explained here. I jump forward and backward in these steps as I come up with new and better ways to for the direction of the story.

So at this point I start actually drafting. I usually write disconnected scenes before this and sometimes start drafting before that point too, if I have an idea for the beginning (usually though finding the starting point is hard for me, I often begin too early, so I rewrite be beginning many times). I sometimes also come up with ideas for scenes in a chapter before writing it. Planning chapters far ahead of writing doesn't work for me, I feel like they never flow well together, but sometimes i get stuck if I don't know what will happen in the chapter I'm writing. While drafting too the story always changes. I don't treat the plan for the story as something I'll just write out but more of a direction I might or might not follow. I just go back to my various planning documents and rewrite them or make fully new versions of them, when there's bigger changes.

My process is very messy and I still try new ways to approach writing to better it as it's far from perfect. I hope there's some useful ideas for you that might help you developing your process!

plotters : what’s ur biggest advice for a pantser / wanna be plotter ? pantsing has stopped working for me but i cannot find a plotting method that makes sense in my dingus adhd brain. any tips r greatly appreciated !!! 🥰

[spookymvlders]

ORIOL OCHOA / ENHANCED SYNTHETIC - BLACK MARKET DEALER (RED HERRING)

Sleazy fucking scumbag black market dealer parading as a sleazy fucking scumbag club owner--posted deep in Zeigta's crawling underbelly where ugly things can thrive beyond the law's sharp gaze.

Come for the all the smoky, naked, neon dancing and classique sci-fi pleasure biz (shady shit, illegal shit, grandma-clutching-pearls type gross fantasy idk whatever shit, if you dream it you can be it etc), but stay for the black market cybernetics at outta your head prices!!!!! (Jk he's here to bleed the desperate dry lol.)

Completely unbeknownst to himself, he’s actually a synthetic who's been playing scapegoat for his super fucking mysterious owner for something like a decade now. So as far as he (or anyone else) knows, Oriol's 200% bonafide human--but like actually he's just a fail-safe, firewall, body-shaped shield that’s meant for throwing at whatever law enforcement/competitors/enemies/etc should somehow find themselves with the upper-hand. (Ofc he’ll begin to figure this out eventually and shit will hit the fan.)

Anyway he’s just out here being a jackal-toothed asshole and taking advantage of anyone and everyone he can--but all for someone else’s gain.

[wilddragonflying]

It's a stupid plan.

It's so goddamn stupid it has to work.

The Library had gotten his - his thief and his hacker trapped in the fucking Underworld, he'd reunited with the twin he'd never thought he'd see again, and the universe fucking owed him.

"They physically went to the Underworld," Cassandra had tried to tell him. "Their bodies..."

"Will be fine," Eliot had growled. "Or I'll find another fucking god to heal them."

Cassandra and Ezekiel had looked at Jake, who'd shrugged. "It's not like we couldn't help with that, too," he'd pointed out.

"It is kind of our fault they got shoved into that portal," Ezekiel had conceded, biting his lip.

"Exactly. So now open this fucking portal so I can get them back," Eliot had snapped, and Cassandra had done so, and he'd stepped through with nothing but the guitar on his back.

Turns out, Orpheus and Eurydice were real people, once, and they'd almost managed to complete the ritual to bring Eurydice back. Now, Eliot was stepping into Orpheus' shoes, nothing but a guitar in his hands and a prayer in his head to whoever the hell might be listening to give him enough time to make this work.

Taking a deep breath, ignoring the chill seeping into his bones, Eliot starts to sing.

He sings every song he can think of as he walks down the path, as he hands coins to Charon, as he's taken across the river and as he winds his way towards the palace. He sings as he walks through the doors of the palace, makes his way to the dais, where Hades is sitting on a throne, Persephone nowhere to be seen(it's summer, the height of summer, this would've been easier if she was there, but then again, maybe not, with what Eliot has planned for the end of today.)

He sings until Hades holds up a hand and tells him to stop. "I know why you're here," he says, and he sounds amused, and a little regretful. "And I cannot allow one soul to escort two from my realm."

"They aren't yours," Eliot says, barely keeps his tone civil. "They're mine. Heart, body, and soul."

Something glints in Hades' gaze. "But are you theirs?"

"Till my dying day," Eliot answers, without hesitation.

"Then prove it," Hades says, reclining back. "You've done your research; you know the ritual."

Eliot takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and looks the lord of the Underworld in the eye.

"No."

Hades straightens. "'No'?"

"No," Eliot repeats, soft and firm. "I'm not doing some damned ritual. They weren't meant to be here, they're still in their physical bodies, and you're going to let them go. You can go back and pick up whoever the hell you meant that ritual to catch once I have Parker and Hardison back."

Seconds seem to stretch like hours as Hades scrutinizes Eliot, finally pushing himself to his feet and almost gliding from the throne. "You're bold, for a human," he murmurs, the words echoing in the deathly-quiet throne room. "You dare defy a god?"

The hairs on the back of Eliot's neck stand up, and he grins. "I dare a lot more than that," he says, and before Hades or his guards can react, he winds up -

And punches Hades square in the nose.

Hades rears back with a startled, pained sound, and there's hands on Eliot's arms, hands he'd know anywhere, and he falls into them, lets them drag him into another portal, magic sparking across his skin as he smirks at Hades, who watches them leave with a baleful - and maybe even fond - look.

On the other side of the portal, back in the Library, Hardison and Parker fold him into their arms, and Eliot sinks into their embrace, the others turning away to give them some semblance of privacy.

Later, he'll ask for the details of how Hardison and Parker managed to hijack a connection to the service, how they managed to break into Hades' palace using Eliot's distraction, how they got a signal to the Library for another portal -

Right now, the only thing Eliot cares about is the two of them warm and alive in his arms.

not only did the three “die” holding hands, the two of them that were in a romantic relationship didn’t. eliot was in the middle. he held both their hands. you would think a show would put their long-time building romantic relationship together and have them hold hands as they died, right? nope. not leverage. most shows wouldn’t even consider having their two male characters hold hands. especially in such an intimate, emotional scene. most shows wouldn’t have one of their male characters hold hands with his friend’s girlfriend as they were dying. leverage showed us how important their relationship was by eliot’s placement. eliot meant so much to both hardison and parker and they meant so much to him. and this was nate’s story. nate came up with this, told people how the three thieves died together, holding hands. he had to make sure people knew that eliot spencer , alec hardison , and parker loved one another so so so so so much