#inject the little math man into my blood

[genderlesssnake]

so

what are your thoughts on the fact that the squip canonically gets vored 🤔

I think taking the Squip as a pill is a little boring, but it becomes a lot more funny when you phrase it like that. I think the Squip being vored is hilarious, but I think it would be cooler if it was injected into a persons veins. It’s already supposed to into your blood anyway, and injecting a computer into my veins would be pretty sick.

[ohbo-ohno]

babygirl bo <3 I have some Qs to which I beg you provide some As (I need me some of that deep bo lore)

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

babygirl lumi i love you so much. you're welcome to any lore you want

🍄 does puppy play count as a hc? because i write ghost calling soap "pup" as a kink thing but i also very much so think he'd just Do that.

if that doesn't count, then i'll say that one hc i swear by is that ghost is a freak but soap is 10x freakier and he's into literally every conceivable abuse ghost tries to commit agaisnt him.

also i think soap is suuuper smart but in a really specific way - can't spell for shit, but that man can rattle off college level math like it's nothing

🥤 is SUCH a good ask because now i can rec my fav cod x readers <3 (i know it says fic or author singular but you're getting multiple fics in place of me trying to tag authors and inevitably forgetting someone)

cod fics (but not the people i usually link because this post is already too long):

Baby Blue by kechiwrites (ghost x reader)

Taste by Sweet Deciet (ghost x soap x reader)

The Hand That Feeds by anonymous (ghost x soap)

Hypnotized (Fuck It) by ANTchan (ghost x soap)

Where Moonlight Meets the Sea by MildLimerence (ghost x soap)

Not More Than Once by WhisperedWords12 (ghost x soap)

NOT cod fics, but one for a few fandoms i love:

Declensions by dustorange is THE dick grayson origin fic. if there's one fanfic i wish i had written, it would be this

the first step of kintsugi by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup is a peter parker & frank castle fic and im not sure it'll ever be finished but it is just. god it is perfect and probably my favorite fic of all time

anything by cupcakemolotov is gonna hit like no other for klaus mikaelson/caroline forbes. i love her so so much like she is my IDOL

ALL MOUTH. by themilkteeth is like the epitome of what a good darklina fic is. it's soooooosososo good i want it injected into my veins

the Blood Apron series by sciencefictioness is a great overwatch fic, but you really don't need to know the characters to enjoy the story! another one that'll never get added to, but i love it a lot

🥐 i don't like the lotr movies but there's a moment in the first (?) one where aragorn (?) is singing to himself and frodo (?) asks "who is this lady you sing of?" and for some reason i literally cannot watch it without keeling over in laughter. it's so fucking stupid

🪲 ohhhh we have beef for this one. i hate you a teeny tiny bit for making me write (/j). added it below the cut!

ok quick edit here but. i thought that said 500 words so uh. sorry but there's 500 words here instead of 50 lmfao. im a fool!!!!!

ghost x soap (cw for (legal) age gap)

He takes another look at the kid, now that he’s not planning on throwing him off the property. He’s got a bit of bulk, probably just recently started working out, and there’s a cocky energy coming off of him. Ghost would bet this is far from the first time he’s robbed someone with this little ruse, probably thinks he’s the smartest burglar in town. Too bad he chose the wrong man to try and trick this time.

Ghost straightens from the doorway, rolling back his shoulders and standing tall. The kid isn’t short by any means, but compared to Simon he’s practically little. Odds are he’s still got some growing to do, but for now Simon gets to enjoy the way he can loom over the teenager.

“No one ever taught you to respect your elders, boy?”

Oh, the kid doesn’t like that one. If he were a dog, his hackles would be fully raised, but he’s left settling for curling his lip back in a snarl. “You think just cause you’re old I have to respect you?”

“I think you’ll respect me because you’re on my property. That and I don’t think you’ll like what happens if you keep the attitude up.”

The kid flushes, either from rage or the innuendo. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You think just because we’re out here alone you can say whatever you want to me?”

“Of course not. We’re out here all alone, which means I can do whatever I want to you. And I will, if you don’t get off my property.”

The kid looks him up and down, then visibly steels himself. Ghost bites back a smirk. He’s not used to being underestimated, but he finds he doesn’t mind when it means getting to see the kid play at being his equal.

“What do you think you’ll do if I don’t go?”

Oh, Ghost can’t wait to beat the attitude out of the little brat.

He doesn’t let the kid see how much the rudeness is getting to him, intentionally keeping his face flat and unimpressed. “What’s your name, kid?”

That permanent scowl doesn’t shift, even as a flash of confusion crosses his face. “...John.”

Ghost nods. “Alright, Johnny, if you don’t get off my property, I’ll take you over my knee and teach you what your daddy should’ve.”

It’s nearly impossible to keep from grinning when Johnny’s mouth pops open in surprise, the flush creeping further up his neck. “You- you’ll- who do you think- you can’t-”

Ghost reaches out like he might slap Johnny, instead snaps right in front of his nose, sharp and loud. “Spit it out, boy. I don’t feel like listening to a kid learn how to speak all night.”

Johnny’s letting himself get worked up, and not doing a good job of hiding it. His teeth grind and he shifts from foot to foot, like he’d like to try and attack Ghost. He’s apparently smart enough to know how idiotic that would be, and Simon finds he’s almost disappointed.

[tangelo-jay]

Okay, maybe I'm just a ludite and all "ooooo technology scary," but why does everything have to be "smart" now?

I'm diabetic. Have been for 21 years. My diabetes is old enough to drink legally in this country. With the exception of the first year when they had me do injections with either regular syringes or pens, I've been on an insulin pump. That's 20 years of having, basically, an external robotic pancreas. I put in my blood sugar and how many grams of carbs I'm eating, the pump does all the math for me based on settings put in by my doctor, and I get the amount of insulin I need. Do things always go 100% perfect every time? Well, no. I could be over or underestimating the amount of carbs or maybe my blood sugar was already trending down and what I ate isn't digesting fast enough. Maybe I forgot to tell the pump I was eating something (ADHD, it happens). The point is that the pump does it's job.

I'm due for an upgrade and I'm a little worried because I do NOT want a smart pump. I don't want something that needs software updates. I read somebody's post on here (don't remember who) about how their insulin pump did an update and it screwed up the machine to the point where it couldn't do anything on THANKSGIVING. A holiday where you are surrounded by carbs and there's probably not a lot of people if any working the phonelines? Yeah, no thanks. That sounds like a nightmare.

I don't want whether or not my robot pancreas functions to hinge on whether Jim the metaphorical software guy typed a 1 like he was supposed to or accidentally typed a 0 instead.

Give me the DUMBEST insulin pump you've got, please and thank you. It's worked just fine this way for the last literal 20 YEARS and I think it'll handle the next 20 just as well.

TL;DR some things should just be dumb stop trying to "improve" things by putting smart technology in them because it could make them less reliable. Also, old man yells at cloud.

[kingprinceleo]

How much blood do vampires need to drink to sustain themselves? Does it depend on the vampire, or is there kind of an average? Also, you might have answered this before and sorry if you have, but how does vampirism spread in your au? (Since Shadow’s been bitten plenty of times, I assume it’s more than just getting bitten by a vampire lol. …Unless he can’t become a vampire due to his biology and healing blood stuff…) Vampires are always fascinating to me because they differ so much depending on the media they’re in! I love seeing what a creator decides on vampire rules.

Ive been trying to figure that out forever!!!!! my rat brain keeps telling me to try and do the math comparing it to irl people and liquid intake but Man am i bad at math and that shit doesnt add up but aaa i think theres an average that every vampire needs, but there are rare occasions where a vampire is an outlier and needs way more or less than average. its smth i rlly need to figure out also to map out shadow and hoax's feeding schedule. I have not answered that before!! spreading it is an intention act! drinking the blood alone doesnt do anything, vampires have venom glands in their teeth and inject it into the persons bloodstream. another little fact, their tongues (potentially barbed?? ill think about that) let out a numbing saliva to yunno numb the area theyre about to bite i just think vampires are neat dbhfhjdsfhsd

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Until You’re Home | Explicit | 1039 words

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

2) He Holds My Paradise | Mature | 1332 words 

“What is it that you want, baby?”

“Your dick” Louis breaths out, choking on his own words, neck still covered by his boyfriend’s hand.

“And where do you want it, baby?” the Devil asks him, a satisfied smirk painting his lips. “in my pussy, please.”

3) Morning | Explicit | 1428 words 

Harry and Louis wake up and have a 'productive' morning in the shower ;)

4) Let's Go To The Beach | General Audiences | 1489 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it. This is a sequel. Part one of this fic is #6 on this list. 

"Louis," Harry repeated.

"Right," Louis sighed. "He tried to scent me."

or the one where Louis has a meeting with an aggressive alpha and Harry calms Louis down.

5) Sweet Relief, Pretty Please | Not Rated | 1840 words 

Louis is drunk, sad and alone, and Harry is a wanker.

6) Hey Moon, Don't You Fall Down | Mature | 2574 words 

Note: The sequel to this fic is #4 on this list. 

"Make me yours," Louis opened his eyes and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm ready, alpha, always been ready for you. Since the first day we met, I was yours. Please," Louis gasped as Harry slid his fingers out of him.

or the one where Harry and Louis finally bond.

7) Nothing Like Anything | Explicit | 2614 words 

Harry is bored of his frat parties. No one interesting comes anyway.It's always drunk people, grinding in the living room, strangers trying to catch his eye. He's about to leave, just to ease his pounding head when he sees him, sinful on the dance floor and suddenly the party isn't so bad.

8) Over Exposed - Part Two| Explicit | 2840 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Harry and Louis take a quick break from Harry's tour to attend the VMAs, then have a night out at a club.

9) Sweet Vanilla Cream | Explicit | 2896 words 

Harry fights to resist his roommate's new omega boyfriend, Louis. Louis maybe doesn't want him to resist.

10) Take Off Your Glasses | Mature | 3742 words

Louis was enjoying his time, as he decided to spend his weekend clubbing, Louis knows no one in there, yet someone wanted to mess with him to know who's Louis the attractive boy in the black skirt.

"It’s Louie.. Sir."

11) Rose’s Fortune | Mature | 5055 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup.

Omega Louis takes one of his siblings to the doctors (check up, possible broken bone or possibly injections?) and the new Dr is Alpha Harry. Harry is great with kids and Louis is smitten. Harry is smitten too but attempts to act professionally and keep his distance whenever Louis visits the Drs with his siblings or to pick up his prescriptions. But Harry realises there is no reason for him not to make a move as Louis isn't under his care.

12) Dare You To Move | Not Rated | 6060 words 

The one where Harry falls in love with the omega who is the brain behind the omega march he joined.

13) Savage Garden’s Song Rules Sometimes (While Yours Always Reign Supreme) | Explicit | 6261 words 

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

The morning after one too many nights of isolation for Louis Tomlinson and his hot & dangerous boy.

Aka how insanely adorkable Harry Styles could be after a sulking episode. [wordplay edition]

14) I Can Feel Your Blood Pressure Rise | Explicit | 9292 words 

"Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone.

Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.

15) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10323 words 

Nice guys always finish last.

16) Teenage Dream | Explicit | 10333 words

Harry and Louis get reintroduced to each other by their friends. It’s an instant connection. Now they’ve just gotta get to know each other.

17) Move So Petty (You're All I See) | Explicit | 10548 words 

Harry’s pretty content with his life. He loves his job- a veterinarian at a local clinic who’s already built up a name for himself despite his young age. He loves his gorgeous flat with its wide, open space and minimalistic, yet still homey feel. He loves his family who he talks to and visits as much as possible, not bothered by the long hours of driving to Holmes Chapel from London he endures multiple times a month. He loves his friends and his coworkers and his neighbors- especially Allison, the little old lady next door who brings him and Louis cookies on holidays and who always comments on how “strong and handsome you are, Mr. Styles,” everytime he sees her.

And most importantly, he loves Louis, just- maybe in a slightly different way.

18) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11111 words 

The one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

19) Smells Like Omega Spirit | Not Rated | 11769 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it.

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

20) You Kill My Mind | Explicit | 13181 words 

Harry has always been ashamed to reveal his kinks to friends and partners alike. One day he meets a man who seems perfectly designed for him and they embark on a wonderful, sex-filled exploration journey.

21) In The Heat Of The Moment | Mature | 15743 words 

When Louis unexpectedly goes into heat in maths class it takes him way too long to figure out why (it might have something to do with a certain curly haired boy sitting next to him).

22) Was In No Hurry, Had No Worries | Explicit | 21485 words 

The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

23) You're The Smell Before Rain, You're The Blood In My Veins | Explicit | 21945 words 

“It was him you talked about, when you used to call me late at night, saying you were missing your ex? Was it him, your important five-year long story? Was it him the person you had thought about proposing, one day?” Nick asks with a low voice, almost inaudible, almost like he’s talking to himself “He’s my boyfriend…” he whispers again, without looking up.

“I know! And you shouldn’t worry, because you don’t have a single reason to do so. He’s yours now, he’s with you. I really don’t understand why you came here, honestly” Harry says defending himself out of instinct, even if he has no reason to react like that. He just- just wishes for Nick to leave his room and go back home to Louis. Because at this point Nick has Louis and fuck, why can’t he just go fuck off for once? Doesn’t he have enough shit do deal with already? Does he really need to get into this as well? Right now?

24) Like The Earth Around The Sun | Explicit | 23600 words 

The one where Harry bursts in on Louis in heat and things only get more complicated from there.

25) The Blood of Love | Explicit | 25273 words 

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

26) Habit | Teen & Up | 27095 words 

In which Louis is a Donna who has a soft spot for alpha Harry.

27) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words 

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

28) Robbers And Cowards | Explicit | 33237 words 

A modern day Robin Hood AU where Louis and Harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more.

29) Caves End | Explicit | 39711 words 

The one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

30) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40867 words 

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

31) With Stars Of Brightest Gold | Explicit | 41109 words 

Louis Tomlinson is the premier courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. In his dreams, he has always wanted to be a famous stage actor. Locked into his contract, he has little means of escape until a handsome duke promises him freedom with a romantic alliance. Due to a case of mistaken identity playwright Harry Styles is thrown into the mix, compelling Louis to choose between his head or his heart.

32) We Both Got Nothing To Hide | Explicit | 43811 words 

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

33) In A World Alone | Explicit | 50787 words 

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

A Swan Lake AU.

34) Hunting Ground | Not Rated | 583658 words 

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. Part two is #38 in this list.

Louis Tomlinson didn’t know how complicated life could be until he became a werewolf. And until he was mated to Harry Styles, the son — and enforcer — of Liam, the leader of the North American werewolves, he didn’t know how dangerous it could be either...

Louis and Harry have just been enlisted to attend a summit to present Liam's controversial proposition: that the wolves should finally reveal themselves to humans. But the most feared Alpha in Europe is dead set against the plan — and it seems like someone else might be too. When Louis is attacked by vampires using pack magic, the kind of power only werewolves should be able to draw on, Harry and Louis must combine their talents to hunt down whoever is behind it all — or risk losing everything.

35) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes | Mature | 85205 words 

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

Pirate AU.

36) Cry Wolf | Not Rated | 85205 words 

Note: This fic is the second part of a series. Part three is #36 in this list.

Louis never knew werewolves existed, until the night he survived a violent attack... and became one himself. After three years at the bottom of the pack, he'd learned to keep his head down and never, ever trust dominant wolves. Then Harry Styles, the enforcer—and son—of the leader of the North American werewolves, came into his life.

Harry insists that not only is Louis his mate, but he is also a rare and valued Omega wolf. And it is Louis' inner strength and calming presence that will prove invaluable as he and Harry go on the hunt in search of a rogue werewolf—a creature bound in magic so dark that it could threaten all of the pack.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[sparda3g]

Kimetsu no Yaiba Chapter 193 Review

It’s the final battle. Everything rest on Tanjiro, the last man standing. If he falls, everyone falls. All he has to do is kill time until dawn. However, the mad man will go extra mile for he will not only kill time, but he will perform the 13th Form. Its requirement is to perform all 12 Forms. It’s insane, but it got me exhilarated. There’s also a revelation that reminded me of my admiration for this series. On top of all that, we have an awesome double-page color spread. What’s not to like?

Muzan has plenty of monologues throughout the chapter. I find it very interesting because we get to understand his viewpoints and opinions. The last chapter was all on Tanjiro with his past experience recollections as well as the difficult tasks he’s about to face. Here, it’s about Muzan and his insight on Tanjiro, Pillars, and himself. Of course, Tanjiro gets his share of monologue, but everything else mostly comes from Muzan.

He knows fully well what human is capable of when facing near death. It’s good to have an intelligent villain. It begs the question, why couldn’t he kill them already? Shockingly, there’s an answer to that later on. It’s also good for a villain to read their foe, which includes the unlocking of red blade. It’s basically an inner look to his insight on Tanjiro, only to conclude he’s no Yorichi.

Once Tanjiro sets off, the action intensifies. His monologue is center on his deep struggle. It is a growing concern for whenever he describes his pain and agony while performing each Form. It’s pure suffering just by the description alone. What’s worse is he has an hour until dawn. It sounds like absolute hell. Tanjiro is in deep pain, but damn, his motivation drive is at all-time high. Even when he is about to drop, he still manage to pull off the technique.

It becomes more troubling when Tanjiro vomits blood, whether it’s from the strike or his limitation already crossed. I think it’s smart for Croc-sensei or editors for that matter to not announce the series’ end, even if it’s clear to us. It’s difficult to call on whether he will die here, or survive for the ending. If it was addressed to be not finale, it would lessen the impact and tension. For now, I’m completely glued and scared. Tanjiro barely escape the fatal blow and evade the combo. As impressive that was, it wasn’t supposed to happen. This is when the whole battle begin to shine a new light.

It was a guaranteed death, according to Muzan. He read the movements, the pacing, and the condition. It would be cheap to say he read him wrong; downplay his intellect. Fortunately, it’s not that he read him wrong; he didn’t think something was wrong on his behalf. He notices his movement is slowing down. While he may sound arrogant and cocky about his guaranteed win, he’s not wrong about Tanjiro not able to have a fighting chance. As much as I love the guy, the battle shouldn’t dampen the stakes and tension. It all comes back to one culprit: Tamayo.

If you thought Tamayo’s exit was depressing, then this is the redemption. Muzan calls for Tamayo’s cells to give him answers about his condition. If you recall, she did inject him with a syringe that supposedly turn demon back to human. While that remain true, there’s a special bonus that he’s unaware of, and she won’t tell him. In her real sendoff, she has the last laugh. That’s a lot more satisfying. I’m amazed how she continues to be great, even after her death. Speaking of death, an old familiar face returns via flashback with a nice twist.

Muzan can hack into memories from their cells, so he does it with Tamayo’s. In the last bit of memory, Tamayo was with Shinobu, talking about the medicine. Remember, they did discuss about poisoning demons, which was highly effective on Doma. This is what Shinobu was talking about. She insisted to mix two poisons to overdose Muzan in case of first one failed to slow him down. The second will carry the left over, delivering an incredible result. The second is aging potion. This battle now makes a lot of sense.

From the start, Muzan was handicapped with slow damaging progression. It’s no wonder why he hasn’t killed Pillars, let alone Tanjiro, instantly. He’s been aging without realizing it. For that matter, it explained why his hair hasn’t reverted back. I thought it was just design transformation for cool-looks, not due to age. Small details like this always fascinate me.

The part that I admire the most is how a character or so can be a major factor to the battle. Case in point, Shinobu and Tamayo. They conducted an idea to poison Muzan that would ultimately become a game-changer. They may have lost their lives, but their effect carried forward. I really like the fact that this all tied-in well. A key moment like that is essential to another, rather than a one-off time with Doma. It’s rewarding to say the least.

It’s been over 3 hours since Muzan was injected. A minute will take him 50 years forward. Translation, he has aged 9,000 years. At least we know he can do math. His reaction is priceless. I also like how the crow reminds Tanjiro about the time till dawn, which fazes Muzan now. Gone with arrogance, he’s now fighting for his life.

Tanjiro is smacking him down with all the Forms. It’s telling with Muzan now looking more panicking after his discovery. It’s a little too late with Tanjiro pulling off all 12 Forms. That’s incredible. Now he has to do it again and again until dawn. Despite the increasing slow-down from Muzan, barely less than an hour is a long time. If anything, the revelation behind the poison increased his chance at winning; the rest lies on his stamina.

This was a satisfying chapter with a nice twist that brought a better light to the battle. Each character play a factor to this battle, whether it’s to poison, to slow down, to beat down, or anything that is worth dying for. Tanjiro is doing the unthinkable, but it is well worth it. Seeing Muzan’s priceless reaction has me uplifted. The artwork and the action are solid throughout. It’s likely to speed up with everything on the table, unless Nezuko arrives or something. The climax is upon us. The dawn is near.

[movesliketacitus]

More than a Number

My name is Lily, and on the Eugenic Scale, I am ranked a 4 out of 10. 

Immediately after birth, each baby is tested for common mutations known to evoke certain disorders, and the results are used to quantify the child’s fitness and future usefulness in society on the Eugenic Scale. 

As a 4, I am classified as a “detriment”, or someone whose undesirable genes and medical needs will cause them to leech off the public’s resources more so than produce them. 

7s and above are the creme of the crop– a dream come true for any parent. A child ranked below a 5, on the other hand, is a punch in the stomach; few resources are allocated towards healthcare nowadays due to the heightened military budget, and it is considered kinder to have such children terminated before their predicted ailments mercilessly consume them. 

The rare parent will refuse to yield their newborn to the lethal injection table, as was the case with my own mother. 

I have never met either of my parents, and I doubt that I ever will. But I am grateful for their decision. I now live in a foster home with other detriments like me, and my life is a hurricane of blood-stained hospital gowns, pillows soaked with burning tears, acquaintances made and lost in weeks, and the constant, all-consuming fear of my ever-nearing future. And yet I am grateful still. 

Because I am a 4. Not a 1 or a 2, fated to die young as my body rapidly disintegrates from the wretched poison bubbling within. 

My genotyping results came back positive for Huntington’s Disease, where the nerve cells that coordinate my movement, speech, and memory are defective and will gradually consume themselves until my body gives out between the age of 50 to 60– 70 if I’m lucky. That gives me decades to enjoy the beauty of this world– almost a full-fledged life. And so I am grateful. 

Sometimes, in the dark of the night when nothing but my own thoughts are awake to occupy me, I wonder what it will feel like when the icy grip of my disease triumphs to finally claim my voice, my limbs, and eventually, my mind. What will it be like to watch my own body forget how to laugh, to know that everyone in my life may suddenly become strangers to me when I wake up the next morning, to lose everything and everyone I have lived for? Who will be the last person I ever hug before my arms lie forever limp by my sides? 

I used to languish over this constantly, as if I could somehow will my future away or cleverly plan out an escape. But why suffer the sensation of my death now, when I am still in good health, when it will certainly come someday anyway?  

I live alongside several other detriments who, like me, struggle with their prognoses from time to time. But we are still able to laugh; we still find joy in everything from the rich smell of undergrowth and pine that permeates through the air every spring to the sly winks of the stars during those tranquil, cloudless nights when even the wind seems to gasp faintly in awe. And so I am grateful. 

The first friend I recall ever having was named Adrian. He was radiant, his warm presence saturating every corner of the room until even the gloomiest of souls could be found hiding a shy smile. 

We met at a precipice that overlooks the city where the genetically acceptable families live and work. Every night, I would watch the town light up at sundown, mesmerized by the tiny cars zooming across winding highways and the billboards glittering with flashes of pinks and golds in the distance. I observed the liveliness down below with an unquenchable longing, until I met Adrian. 

He was gaunt for a fourteen-year-old, but I forgot about his appearance the moment he smiled and stuck out his hand. It was a toothy grin, and yet his eyes captured the glow of the city, his unkempt hair tussling with the mountain wind. His frail body swayed, but his sprightly spirit was interwoven with the world around him. At the recognition of the melancholy in my demeanor, he asked me why I lusted after the synthetic glitter of the city when an endless array of stars danced right above our own heads. I laughed then, but from that night onwards, we lay together on the grass, making up ridiculous constellations and dozing off to the lull of crickets chirping and nearby streams gushing. 

We never told anyone about this, but, once the sun had set every Christmas Eve, we both would put on our most expensive clothes, sneak a little money from our savings into our pockets, and head for the city. The journey down was always streaked with a tinge of fear, the petrifying nightmare of getting caught and maligned for entering an “uncontaminated” space constantly looming in our heads. But once we were safe within the main gates, oh man. 

The town was always cloaked with a delicate white blanket of snow; sleigh bells tied to door fronts tinkled as the breeze carried their music to our ears. 

We caught snowflakes on our fingertips. Watched toy trains filled with laughing children snake around the downtown ice rink. Sat in empty coffee shops scalding our tongues with overly-saccharine peppermint teas. Pulled our coats snug around our shoulders while strolling past bustling bakeries, the fresh scent of gingerbread and hazelnut enveloping us in a cozy joy. Hid bittersweet tears trying to swallow the fact that we were never meant to see any of this. 

Returning home was snapping awake from a dazzling but implausible dream. Each step forward felt infected with the dreary lilt of shackles, and when we reached the top of our mountain, the city was once more a mere twinkle in the distance. 

A fictional world untainted from our presence once more. 

A reminder that we were the sick. The unwanted. The worthless. The detriments. 

But we would always get back on our feet eventually. Anyone on the mountain can tell you a detriment’s life is teeming with hurdles and disparities. Yet we still persist. We laugh, we sing, we love, together. 

“Hey! Lily! Did you know that our stomachs can dissolve steel? Isn’t that nuts?”

Adrian was full of the wildest facts, thirsting for anything he knew would make us smile. He could tell you how long the smallest snake in existence was (4 inches) and theorize about the creation of the universe for hours. 

“”Yo Lils! Did you know that 40,000 Americans die from toilets each year?”

Somehow, basic lessons from class escaped him, but he could memorize the periodic table song backwards in half an hour. 

“Lily! Lilyyy– hey, wait up! I just– *cough*– wanted to thank you– *cough*– for helping me study for my math test last weekend. I’m pretty sure I saw Mr. Valdez give me a thumbs up after class!” 

He was sweet. But life wasn’t kind back to him. 

“Lils. Hey Lils, look at me. It’s all– *gasp•–  gonna be all right.” 

He was a blazing star, all the way until the end. The brightness gleaming in his eyes never wavered, even as his body quivered with fragility. 

*Pant. Pant. Pant. Pant.* 

On his last night, Adrian stared at the ceiling, his crackling breathing heavy and brisk. In the dim light, I could see that his forehead was speckled with droplets of sweat and that, for the first time since I had met him, he looked exhausted. His face had hollowed, and his eyes were nestled above dark bags. At 2:37 AM that night, his chest rose one last time, and those beautiful eyes faded forever. 

We all used to think Adrian was lucky. You see, Adrian had hope. More so than any of us, at least. On the normal genetic scale, he would probably be at least a 6, possibly even an 8. He should have been perfect. He should have lived. 

But his mother had smoked. Heavily. All throughout her pregnancy. He was born a measly five pounds with an abnormally small heart and a diagnosis of chronic lung disease. No one knew when he would die, or even how: would his feeble heart be the one to fail him, or would his lungs collapse to strangle him first? Either way, his body was too weak to function “normally”. So he was sent to us, where he transformed an overstuffed facility of forgettable children into a snug home with hope. 

I still lay on the grass at night, albeit alone now, in the hopes of grasping even a fraction of what Adrian understood about this vast universe. Sometimes I see him in the stars, and I wave to him until I feel tears streaming down my cheeks, until my vision blurs and his image dissolves to nothingness. 

Occasionally, I’ll look at my palm. Wiggle my fingers. Make a fist. Crack my knuckles. And smile. My body is in my command, and though it won’t be forever, it is in this moment. So I will live, because my number does not define me. I am a 4, but I am Lily first. I will jump, scream, cry, and laugh because that is what Adrian taught me to do with the beautiful life I have ahead of me. I will live for the both of us, because an angelic soul was seized too early from this bleakening world. And when my time comes, I will have a kingdom of priceless memories to remind me to smile when I meet Adrian this time around. 

And for that, I am grateful.

[literarytrashcollection]

The New Recruit (3/?)

AN: Some major plot reveals in this one. Also, a touch of Brand New Winter Soldier. Let me know what y’all think of it!

I felt sick sitting in front of the same people in the same conference room. Natasha looked almost smug as I wrung my hands anxiously.

“So, why are we here again?” Tony asked, tossing a stress ball in the air and catching it again. The sound of the soft rubber slapping against his palm started getting annoying after the twenty-seventh catch.

“Y/N has something that she would like to share with the group.” Bucky announced, his face split in half with the Cheshire cat’s smile. I wanted to punch him then and there more than I ever had before. How dare he act like a child, getting another in trouble?

“Does this have anything to do with the information you gave us when we first interviewed you?” Steve asked, bouncing a pen on a notepad in front of him. Everyone’s little tics were going to drive me insane. I wanted to make them all hold still. I wished I could suck all of the sound out of the room.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice caught around the lump in my throat. I cleared my throat, once, twice, three times before I finally felt brave enough to speak again. “I never technically lied to any of you.” I started out. “It was more an omission of truth.”

Tony sat forward a little, his face sinking from the bored look into a more serious one. Everyone seemed to be staring at me with some level of distrust or anger, like predators surrounding prey. The kindest set of eyes were Thor’s. He sat in his chair, sprawled back with hands folded over his chest, lips turned up in a slight smile.

“I was born in the late 1870’s.” I blurted after a long time. “December 7th, 1876.”

If Natasha was any more smug, she would have shoved out of her chair and yelled “A-ha!” She didn’t though, thankfully. No one around the table said anything for a long time, each analyzing me with varying levels of distrust, interest and ridicule.

Finally, after centuries of waiting, “So, you’re older than the Cap and Tin-Man put together?” Sam asked, fingers drumming on the table as he did the math. “Maybe not the number of years they’ve been on this Earth, but their physical age? Actually, no, you are older than all of their years put together.”

I laughed a little, a hysterical burst of crazed laughing that ended as abruptly as it started. “Something like that, yeah.” I nodded. I could feel sweat dripping through my scalp and pooling in my pits. My hands were slick with it. I wanted nothing more than a long shower. It had been decades since I had admitted my true age. I was comfortable without acknowledging my age. This was foreign, a sickly feeling that left me feeling hollow and threadbare.

“You’re 143 years old?” Wanda asked, voice tinged with almost awe that I quickly dismissed as her accent.

I nodded again, cringing a little at the number. “I’ve stayed in the shadows. Maintained the opposite of a notable human life. Unless you count the time I spent fighting during World War Two.”

“You told us that HYDRA killed your family,” Steve interjected, voice clipped with barely contained anger. He’d been asking these questions for how long now?

“They did. My last remaining relatives, grand-nieces and grand-nephews who knew me as this eccentric aunt who traveled around a lot.” I met his eyes without flinching. I remembered Cap as the leader of the Howlies. The Avengers were just the upgrade. The modernized version. Same war, different year.

He chewed the inside of his lip and gave me a curt nod. “You destroyed… massive weapons depots. Sometimes we’d be riding up just as you dispatched the last soldier.”

“And I always gave you all of the credit.”

“Why?”

“I never wanted to be another Captain America. If I gave you the credit, then at least the destruction was believable and I could remain safely out of anyone’s cross hairs.”

“SHIELD knew about you, back then at least.” He countered. “What’s to say they haven’t still been monitoring you?”

I flicked a glance over at Natasha. “She’d have blown the whistle the second I walked in.”

Natasha’s face fell slightly. “I’ve read files on you, from Cap’s era. They made it seem like you died sometime in the late sixties.”

“Y/N Y/L/N died in the sixties. I could no longer use the name and have the face I had. My age just wouldn’t match up anymore. I couldn’t play it off anymore.

“So, new identity, for the second time. The first time was in the thirties, just before I got active in the war. All of them homemade, of course. I watched the technological evolution so learning it wasn’t hard, figuring out how to do that for myself wasn’t hard. I couldn’t have any paper trail that anyone could follow. That identity died in the early 2000’s. I changed back to same name from the sixties. Who’s gonna match the names up, the face, the prints, any of it? If I just keep my head down, stick to a menial job, who cares about little ol’ me?”

“Then why join the Avengers if you’re trying to stay out of the limelight?” Tony asked, giving me a nauseating feeling of déjà vu.

“There’s finally a time where my differences will be appreciated, my powers make me useful and looked up to, rather made into a science project or looked at like a freak.” I shrugged, folding my hands together in front of me.

“Why not back during the war? You would have been worshiped the way Steve was.” Bucky’s devilish smile was gone, replaced by a deep set frown and genuine interest.

I looked over at him and felt my skin start to heat up. “Because HYDRA came after me. Or they would. And what do you know? You did. I can count eight different times you were wiped and sent after me after Steve went into the ice. Not to kill, but you almost did two different times.”

Eyes around the room seemed to flick over to Bucky, my comment a reminder of the sheer lack of stability he had from all the fucking around in his head HYDRA did. Tony’s eyes lingered on him the longest, the pain in his eyes clear and deep.

“That wasn’t me,” Bucky said gently.

“I know it wasn’t. It was the Winter Soldier. He just had your face. You always looked so surprised when I told you that we had met before. As soon as I found that you were on my tail, I had to disappear. I already lived a bare life, your constant stalking just made me that much more of a ghost.”

“Did you ever get the chance to have a family of your own?” Wanda asked, voice definitely sad this time.

“No,” I met her wide eyes and saw the empathy in them. “I run cold. It’s like my body is literally frozen in time. Too cold to house human life. Too frozen to even conceive. So I keep my distance from everyone. The Winter Solider was my first partner, in the early fifties.” I said it without hesitation. Bucky’s face turned bright red and I saw Sam physically restraining himself from clapping his buddy on the shoulder.

“Y/N, listen,” Tony took a deep breath and sighed heavily. He looked tired. The fighting had aged him, made his body wary. “We knew you were lying. We wanted to see the honesty, and now we have it. We’re obviously not going to kick you out or anything. Your powers are… incredible. And terrifying. No more secrets, yeah?”

I nodded enthusiastically, my eyes continuing to roll in their sockets for a moment after I stopped. “No more secrets.”

“Good, dismissed.” He waved us all out, everyone getting up and filing out slowly. I stayed in my seat, staring out the window as I urged my heartbeat to slow.

“Lady Y/N, I believe that I might have the answer to some questions I feel you’ve been asking for many years,” Thor said gently from across the room, still lounged in his chair.

“Oh?”

“My brother, Loki, he spoke of time on Midgard during the time frame you say you were born. He told me of a woman of extraordinary power, more power than any mere mortal, and the time he spent with her. It is possible that you are the production of his time on this Earth.”

My eyes widened slightly. “You mean, I’m Loki’s daughter?”

“No,” he chuckled, face split in a smile like a loyal dog. “You’re no demi-god. But, it’s possible that he tested the mixture of some percentage of his DNA injected into yours. It’s possible he transfused some of his blood into your body and that’s what’s causing these extraordinary powers. Your lack of aging could be similar to our extended aging.”

I stared at him for a long time. “Uncle Thor?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “If that’s the title you wish to use, you may. But Loki is not your biological father.”

I shrugged. “It’s been 130 years since I’ve seen my real father. At this point, I don’t have one.”

West Berlin, 1952

I sat outside a small café, sipping the honeyed tea I’d been given as I watched passersby. I relished in my time in the cosmopolitan surrounded by war and passive-aggressive Cold War penis measuring.

I kept my sunglasses high, the scarf wrapped around my hair hid the majority of my features well. I’d long stopped fighting HYDRA, leaving the work to SHIELD and their agents. I’d moved into a tiny apartment near the trains. I only used my powers within the confines of my home.

“Y/N,” called a familiar voice, in a distinctly American accent. A rock seemed to settle in my stomach and I felt heat begin to crawl across my fingers. I ignored the call, taking another measured sip of tea. “Y/N!” The voice was closer now, memories of dark cement holding cells dredged up with the baritone sound.

I continued to ignore it, letting my eyes wander across the faces in the immediate crowd, trying to pick out a familiar one. I hadn’t made any friends since my move. I’d rarely spoken to my neighbors, the landlord, the waitress tending me. I kept my face down, my voice low. I shouldn’t have known anyone.

The man that slid into the seat next to me made my fingers literally tremble. The barely contained fire burning under my skin seemed to sky rocket from mildly uncomfortable to horribly painful. “No. No. You’re dead,” I shook my head, peering into the ice blue eyes that had once seemed so innocent, another boyish lad sent to a war that he had no business fighting.

“Do we know each other?” Bucky asked. His hair was longer now, tied neatly at the base of his skull. He wore a polished suit of black with a cream shirt beneath it. He was different, in more ways than one. The blankness in his eyes was gut-wrenching, but the glittering metal hand that folded with his flesh one on the table made me nauseous.

“I mourned you with the rest of America when you died.” I hissed.

“I think you’re mistaking me,” he murmured. “I can’t say we’ve met before. I was asked by my superiors to talk to you about a job position we think you’d be perfect for.”

I blinked at him, not that he could tell behind the sunglasses.

“We know about your powers,” he whispered, leaning across the table. “We need a woman of your strength.”

“Do you know that Steve is gone?” I asked. “Are you taking over for him as Captain America? What about the Howling Commandos?”

He barked a laugh that didn’t touch his eyes. “What are you going on about, darlin’?”

That’s when I realized what was wrong with him. Nothing touched his eyes. He’d filled out, much more than he’d been when we’d last met. Not naturally either. I’d seen how much Steve changed after the super solider serum. Bucky’s changed seemed the same. But SHIELD wouldn’t be doing testing like that anymore.

“Who do you work for?”

“A very special deep science-slash-military faction for the government.” He answered, cool as you please. “Your blood would help us create more like you, make your abilities normalized so you could flourish, instead of hide. We could also use your strength in the field.”

“Which government?” I demanded. My skin was prickling. My gut said run.

“We’re the good guys, I can assure you,” he smiled so brightly that I almost believed it. “Let me take you for a drink, we can talk about it more.”

I shook my head. “I’m not interested.” I started to stand but the glittering hand snatched my wrist. He jerked me back and I landed in his lap. A few customers around looked at us, scandalized by our display, but quickly looked away when he pressed a scorching kiss to my lips.

When he broke away, his fingers all but crushing my jaw as he held me close. “It wasn’t an option.” He snarled, voice rough like gravel beneath bare feet, the sound scraping against my nerves.

I gripped his wrist, letting my hand heat up until he released me, growling in pain. “Guess you’ll have to get me first.” I snapped and started running, all care for the people staring after me gone as the Winter Solider chased after me.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Tags (if it’s crossed out, it means I can’t tag you): @jsmith509 @xvoezx @almostpsyche @33rie33 @sarillee @bucktitybarnes

[towaniegaita]

FAQs [Nozakibento, 16th October 2010]

Original post in Japanese

I collected together some of the questions I'm often asked.

 Basic Information

Name: Nozakibento

Date of Birth: 28th April 1986 (Showa 61)

Height: 177.5cm (as of 2018)

Weight: approx. 60kg

Blood Type: A

Home prefecture: Hokkaido. I was born in Sapporo. I also lived in Tokachi and Kushiro.

Current location: Tokyo (I moved there from Hokkaido in the year I turned 30)

Occupation: A 33 year old amateur idol

Hairstyle: I used to wear a wig, but now I mostly go for a messy style

Visual Acuity: Both eyes are around 1.5 without glasses

Characteristics: Nozakibento

Likes and Dislikes

Favourite food: Sliced senmai (boiled tripe), vegetables in general, meat in general (especially meat sashimi), seafood in general (especially octopus and oysters), anything cherry blossom flavoured, anything yuzu flavoured, rice, miso soup, soba, udon, niboshi ramen, yakuzen herbal soup, grated yam, tofu, shiokara, sushi, sashimi, seaweed, mochi, rice flour dumplings, wheat gluten cakes, keihan rice, oyster soy sauce, slow-boiled eggs, Indian curry from Tokachi, ice cream (especially citrus, mint chocolate, watermelon and vanilla flavours), hard gums, mini Ramune candy, agar jelly, almond tofu pudding, oroblanco

Least favourite food: None.

Favourite drinks: Tea in general, kale smoothie, scented but not sweetened sparkling water, vegetable juice, tomato juice, soba water, miso soup, dashi, non-alcoholic beer, ginger ale, black coffee

Favourite alcoholic drinks: Campari-based cocktails (especially Spumoni), Violet Fizz

Favourite animals: Daring crabs, spotted garden eels, owls, sea urchins when they eat cabbage

My type: Someone with a big heart, who isn't rude and doesn't complain all the time. Decisive, speaks logically and is a fast worker

Favourite scents: Bergamot, yuzu, oroblanco, lemongrass, lemon and lime, eucalyptus, vanilla, incense, hinoki cypress, the smell of hot springs, medicinal water, struck matches

Favourite sports: Table tennis, endurance running, non-competitive swimming, walking

Favourite instruments: When I listen to bands, I tend to focus on the drums, bass and keyboard. If I go to see a symphonic orchestral concert or something, I tend to watch the percussionists. I myself can't play any instruments.

Hobbies: Gaming, listening to game soundtracks, table tennis, reading, darts, being enveloped in aromas, checking my daily electricity bill using a bill management app

Special skills: Ability to work as a librarian, can sing The Tortoise And The Hare starting from different positions, a little bit of competitive eating (can eat up to about 2kg)

Qualifications: Librarian, teacher's licence (for primary, middle and high schools), certified member of the Sports Boy Scouts (link in Japanese), Kanji Aptitude Test Level 2, driving licence (for manual cars)

Person I most respect: My mother

Favourite subjects: Japanese (especially modern Japanese), contemporary society, ethics, politics and economics

Favourite season: The shade in midsummer

Favourite phrases: 

80% Preparation 20% Performance (dandori hachibu)

The early bird gets the worm (sente hisshou)

Niche business (sukima sangyou)

Information, Communication, Discussion (houkoku renraku soudan)

Easier said than done (iu wa yasuku okonau wa katashi)

Haste makes waste (tanki wa sonki)

Drink if you want, but be swallowed up (sake wa nondemo nomareru na)

The frog in the well knows nothing of the great ocean (i no naka no kawazu taikai wo shirazu)

A picture is worth a thousand words (hyakubun wa ikken ni shikazu)

Stress-free

Favourite Japanese poem:

'If I live long,

I may look back with yearning for these painful days -

The world that now seems harsh

May then appear sweet and good!'

By Fujiwara no Kiyosuke, translation by Peter McMillan

Favourite place to hang out: Inside a game

Favourite characters: Domo-kun (NHK), Moji-kun (Kotoba no Puzzle: Mojipittan), Zushi Hokki (official mascot of Hokuto city in Hokkaido), Jack Frost (Megami Tensei series), Morgana (Persona 5)

Favourite anime: Eureka Seven

Favourite manga: Love Roma by Toyoda Minoru

I Wonder If I Can Make 100 Friends by Toyoda Minoru

Yoake no Toshokan by Nonou Tao

Other manga I like: Nangoku Shounen Papuwa-kun, PAPUWA, Final Request, Yu☆Yu☆Hakusho, Revelations: Persona, Mind Assassin, Sayonara Zetsubou-Sensei, Arakawa Under The Bridge, Fushigi Yuugi, Ranma 1/2, Psychometrer EIJI, The Kindaichi Case Files, Rakudai Ninja Rantarou, Soul Hunter etc.

Favourite game: Devil Summoner: Soul Hackers

Other games I like: Shin Megami Tensei 1-4, Shin Megami Tensei 4 Final, Shin Megami Tensei if, Persona 1-5, Devil Summoner: Raidou Kuzunoha 1 and 2, DIGITAL DEVIL SAGA Avatar Tuner 1 and 2, Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 1 and 2,  Little Magic, Jake Hunter: Let Time Pass By, LIVE A LIVE, Final Fantasy 5 and 8, Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light, Fire Emblem: Mystery of the Emblem, Secret of Mana, Trials of Mana, Schoolhouse Horror Story, Banshee's Last Cry, Jungle Wars 2, Ranma 1/2: Hidden Treasure of the Red Cat Gang, Renegade, The New Hot-Blooded Tough Guy: The Eulogy of Kunio and Co., Puyo Puyo, Puyo Puyo 2, Saga Frontier, Monster Farm, Monster Farm 2, KOF98, SAMURAI SPIRITS, vib-ribbon, Clock Tower 2, Clock Tower Ghost Head, Maria: Kimitachi Ga Umareta Wake, Double Cast, Sakura Wars 2: Thou Shalt Not Die, Kotoba no Puzzle: Mojipittan, RPG Maker Series, etc. As for social network games, I like Kuroneko no Wiz Dx2 Shin Megami Tensei Revelation, and Ensemble Stars!

What I most want right now: Time

Do I smoke? Never. But I have nothing against those who do. I don't mind if someone smokes next to me.

Things I struggle with: Exercise, exercise, exercise, exercise, English, mental arithmetic, making other people cross.

What I like about myself: Large earlobes

What I don't like about myself: The fact that I easily neglect my work if I lose focus.

Do I like nurses? I like them if they're good at giving injections.

Favourite way of heating things up in a microwave: 2 minutes at 500W

Ideal way to spend a day off: Sleep like I've melted into the bed, do the cleaning and laundry when I wake up, play games like I'm bathing in them, sleep again.

Novels I’m glad to have read and why: There's a lot, so I'll just list what I can remember off the top of my head.

★ Criss Cross - Konton no Maou by Takahata Kyouichirou, published by MediaWorks. This was the very first book that made me interested in reading novels.

★ Natsu no Niwa - The Friends by Yumoto Kazumi, published by Shinchousha. When I felt down, I read this and my heart was cleansed.

★ Rirekisho by Nakamura Kou, published by Kawade Shobou Shinsha. Because it gave me courage.

★ Tsubasa wa Itsu Made Mo by Kawakami Ken'ichi, published by Shuueisha. I simply thought that it was a really good book, and reading it made me want to read more books like it in the future.

★ Tsumetai Kousha no Toki wa Tomaru by Tsujimura Mizuki, published by Kodansha. This was the book that reminded me that I wanted to keep reading novels forever.

NicoNicoDouga and Dance covers

When did you start using NicoNico? 2007, in the earliest days of the RC version.

What kind of videos do you watch on NicoNico? Anything.

Were you learning how to dance? I've never learnt how to dance.

Why did you start dancing? I wanted to take part in the first large-scale Cirno meeting. (T/N: An event where a whole bunch of people from NND get together to dance to Cirno's Perfect Math Class. Here's the 2009 version.)

What's the average production time for a single video? It varies.

What's been the most fun thing to dance to so far? Ren'ai Hunter

Which of your own dance videos are you most satisfied with? Domo-kun's dance to MERRY GO ROUND

Where you happy to be chosen in the Geiran videos (A series where a gay man ranked dancers on NND)? I was.

Which version is your current Domo-kun?

Hokkaido and Tokyo version: Tiramisu (Original version. Mainly stays at home. On active duty)

Osaka version: Chocolat (Retired)

Fukuoka version: Fondue (Retired)

Tokyo version: Belgium (Retired)

Tokyo version: Demel (Retired)

What kind of expressions do you make and what feelings do you have when dancing as Domo-kun or in the blue full bodysuit? None

What would happen to you if you drank a strange potion? I'd become aggressive.

Aren't you going to wear a wig anymore? I'd like to wear one again some time soon.

Other

Were you in any clubs during middle school? I was in the table tennis club for all 3 years. My high school club is a secret.

Do you have a girlfriend? It'd be annoying to have to update this page if I got a girlfriend or if we broke up so that's also a secret.

What are your dreams and goals? To make the people I love happy. I want to live in a way that I can look back when I die and think that I lived a good life.

What are your habits? Looking at the ingredients and nutrition facts labels on food. Looking at the ingredients labels on shampoo. Moving around unsteadily. Clicking my tongue without any thought behind it.

What are your typical phrases? Okay (ii yo), I see (naruhodo), Why?! (nande dayo), hahahaha, hah hah hah hah, HAHAHAHA

What are your main principles? To always live calmly, and to never miss an opportunity

Does your Roomba have a name? It's called Junpei.

When did you first meet Domo-kun? A friend gave me a Domo-kun plushie for my birthday and the rest is history.

What was it that drew you to Domo-kun? His loveliness.

Where did you get such a large number of plushies from? Some of them I bought, some of them I received. A few of them I got from a crane machine.

What do you want to do right now? Sleep.

What part time jobs have you done in your life? Waiter at a sushi restaurant, library work, private tutoring.

If you have a child in the future, what book would you absolutely want them to read? You Are Umasou by Miyanishi Tatsuya, published by Poplar

Do you have any rivals? No (because no-one will compete in the same ring as me).

What's your image of the ideal human? Someone who can do fundamental things reliably.

What's your motto? Stress-free

What's the reason for your name?

Nozaki → Named after Nozaki Megumi from the idol group CHECKICCO

Bento → My inspiration

 -------------

First published 16th October 2010, updated 1st December 2019

[decendingfromgrace]

Sæglópur

OC x Bakugou (Fantasy AU)

A first everything was normal, mundane even with only the occasion visit by the imposing visitor she got every month or so. She would form a routine of mixing potions, grinding herbs, healing the wondering traveler or two and examining the oddities that seem to line every shelf in her home. When her illusory visitor came, he was gruff, demanding attention, blunt and had a inhumanly high libido. She had now been surprisingly excited when the thunderous sounds of his red dragon landing outside of her little cottage and she would rush out to see him dismount with a sac of rare treasures she always thanked him for. An odd conundrum she had, but what she had yet to solve was why he kept insisting she marry him.

"Just be my bride." or "shut up and be my bride already." would be demanded by him every visit especially in the after glow of passion, or when she would impress him or do something simple to her but complex to him.

It bad been months she had been without even a whiff of him in a ten mile radius from her home, and she had begun to think that these fleeting meetings meant little to him. Though why would he insist on marriage then? Why would he bring her things and protect her if an unwanted presence made its ways into the woods around her home? She shrugged and went back to her work. She was a well known healer in the valley and would have some villagers stumble into her cottage though when one villager came to visit and he was there the villager was scared off and now not as many come.

Taking a moment from cracking open a geode on her work desk to look up with closed eyes at the warm sunlight streaming through the windows, she thought more about her strange company.

He was strong as his mount with a temper to match. Tribal markings on his arms and ornate beads and necklaces decorated his person as well as a furry main of white fur that ended with a flowing blood red cape. She had asked questions of his home and where he came from.

She had gathered the following about him: He was dragon kin, which was a race of beings that held an ancient connection with the mythical fire breathers. He also had major parent issues and was staying away from home for the time being for a reason unknown to her. His name is Katsuki Bakugou and he had come from far away and quite literally fell into her life.

His dragon collapsed from fatigue and she had witnessed the fall it had from the dusk sky and quickly grabbed her medical supplies and rushed out the door.

Making it to the clearing she saw the beaten and tattered pair of dragon and owner. Needless to say Katsuki had been hostile and pined her down moments after she began speaking. Her muffled explanation of her being a medic and how she could heal and feed him and his dragon made him release her. She did as she said and healed and feed them both. Unknown to her, this was the moment Katsuki decided to learn more about this unabashedly caring soul.

That was their first meeting and since that Katsuki had shown up every month with treasures, kisses, news, and his dragon who would nuzzle and lick her affectionately. He would stay for a week at most then leave again but not after loving her every evening making the soreness in her legs a reminder of him.

A twinge of pain struck her thoughts out of her head. She clutched her stomach as her toes curled in pain. She leaned heavily on the sink and doubled over, spilling bile into the sink.

The medication was bitter but being a healer did have its props; she could always heal herself with the materials around her.

That evening her head spun and she emptied her stomachs again while a heavy haze came over her mind. The feeling of a soldering heat never left her, her body shook, head spun, she was constantly hungry and thirsty, and one day she found blood in her spit up. Her medicines were ineffective,  lasting for a few minutes before the illness came back ten fold.

On the third day her shrieks and wails of pain woke her up and she curled tighter into a fetal position in her sheets. Her whole body shook and perspiration created a sheen on her body. Everything screamed in pain that resembled fire being injected into her veins, even her eyeballs hurt. Her head swam with nothing but darkness, fire, and pain. All she thought of was how she felt like dying and the sudden need to dunk herself in ice every day. At one point her own name was forgotten from her migraine filled head. She couldn't see anymore nor could she eat, her body rejected everything and one by one her senses started to fail leaving her feeling in the dark. This went on for one week.

The second week was filled with constant hunger. She ate everything and anything and even began hunting, until the day she woke up in the middle of the forest surrounded by dead animal carcasses did she realize that whatever was wrong with her was outside her realm of help. She could not stop the heat under her skin, the pain all her limbs or the hunger. This week also had intense arousal periods that she couldn't come down from no matter what she tried. Her thoughts centered around Katsuki for some reason and an anger grew inside her aching belly towards the man. Her head throbbed every time the once loved morning light shown through her curtains but she wasn't sleeping or keeping track of the days. The end of the second week was when her vision started to come back.

The third week was like the after math of a raging hurricane. She slowly opened an eye and found she could see but the vision was blurry again, yet when she took her glasses off did she see clearer than ever. Details that no human could see she saw: the gleam in a spiders eye, the membrane of a butterfly wing, the swirling flames in the fire crystal Katsuki had found her. She heard the heartbeat of the birds flying by and the hopping of small rabbits in the bushes. She could smell every animal, herb and even upcoming thunderstorms miles away.

Red-sienna marking made three crescent shapes wrapped from the back of her neck to the front of her throat, other markings accented her eyes by making lines under and then leading past them and small spots dappled her shoulders, her canine teeth were sharp and her eyes were an glowing blue hue.

She got up on shaking legs to get a much needed drink but a pair of large bat like wings sprouted from her back. Her equipment flew through the power of the wings and many things were toppled out of the windows. She panicked,  and threw herself outside so to not damage anything else. The wings crunched painfully against the ground and seemed to have a mind of their own, fluttering, flapping slightly, and bending constantly. They were a darker shade of sienna but the under side of the sensitive membrane was a paler gradient of oranges and reds with flecks of gold here and there. They were beautiful she admitted but their origin made here naturally scared and confused. She imaged them folding and spreading out several times, but only managed to make them flick or twitch. She sighed and realized that there was not getting rid of this and resigned back to bed for a beastly spell of fatigue struck here suddenly. The wing's warmth encompassed her when she laid down, as they wrapped their mighty selves around her, and she slowly drifted to sleep.

A calloused hand passed over her highly sensitive wings. The figure was mesmerized at the colors that bounced off the appendages from the light of the lowering sun. The women with the wings shot up in bed and the wings flew outward and promptly smacked the intruder in the face. The women cursed and threatened the invader before the wing was lowered to reveal Katsuki. He seemed withered and sad at seeing her, unusual to say the least. The women studied his face and saw the growing darkness in his eyes, he was growing regretful.

"Katsuki? What the hell are you doing here? You haven't come around in months nor have you sent a raven or note, and suddenly I find you in my room." Katsuki says nothing but surprisingly he kneels in front of her and hangs his head. His back is tense and his nails dig into the fabric of his pants and silent tears threaten to fall from his eyes. The women scenes these things and slowly, ever so slowly, moves her legs to either side of him and runs tentative fingers through his blonde locks.

"What's wrong Katsuki?" Her tone was filled with pure concern and that made Katsuki tear up more. His hands remained planted in place but he dared to look up to see her, sienna wings spread out, the light of dusk glowing on her face, sapphire eyes sparkling, and red locks framing her face in a heavenly halo. Katsuki's ruby eyes widened at the sight and his mouth went dry. His mind finally registered what she had asked of him and his gaze went down again.

"You changed while I was gone. I was supposed to be here, I was supposed to help you!" He snarled at himself and his idiocy. His scowl faded when a soft gasp was heard above him. His eyes were in her in a moment to see the danger, what he saw made his stomach flip. She had a hand over her mouth, eyes shocked and suddenly an anger passed in her eyes.

"You knew this would happen?" She whispered and locked gazed with the man below her to keep him in place. His eyes darted around but she held her question and resolve.

"Yes." It was a whisper and barely auditable but she heard it and a seething boil bubbles over in her belly.

"You knew? Did you know about the three weeks of absolute hell I went through! The pain and screaming, loss of appetite, senses, thirst?! Katsuki it hurt so much! I was in the dark, alone, in pain, without anyone. I suffered for three weeks and you knew?"

He nodded and hung his head so low it touched the floor.

"Than why the he'll didn't you come to see me? Dammit Katsuki." She paused to look into his rising gaze. Sadness, regrets, and understanding was clear in them but her anger seemed to be stronger than her.

"Get out of my house. Now!" She roared, rose from the bed to threateningly stand over him. He looked up at her in awe. She was ferocious when the last time he saw her she was merely a shy, dainty women. He rose slowly, though taller and played the submissive side still. He looked at her pleadingly but seeing her glare and bared fangs, he made his way to the door. He paused on the precipice of the door to look back.

"When you're ready, I'll explain everything to you, my bride."

"I'm not your bride nor would I ever want to be. Get out." Her response was immediate and without hesitation. A frigid hand grasped Katsuki's heart and those words would have made his knees buckle then and there but his pride made him scowl and slam the door shut.

Katsuki simply ran through the woods as fast as possible to a secluded area where he could scream, punch, slice and demolish the poor foliage around him.

An hour later the great dragon kin leader, who valiantly won battles and wars, who lead his people to sanctuary had been reduced to a sweating heap on the grass. His pants became sobs and he curled into himself. He knew it was his fault. She had no idea the changes would happen, or the pain they would bring. Those changes were supposed to happen a week after he returned this evening but coming to find what he did his world was turned over. He was supposed to comfort her, he was to tend to her needs both mental and physical. He was the one who was supposed to be bonded to her through this comforting period and he destroyed his hopes of becoming her mate. He remembered the hate in her words and eyes and a shudder went through him.

The Earth continued to move. The birds sung in the morning and the wolves howled at night. The now dragon turned women warded off any and all signs of anyone, especially Katsuki. Her world was turned around completely at the arrival of her new wyvarian form. The wings were the main issue but she had managed to understand the fundamentals of folding them in and out upon her command. She never tried to fly, in fact she tried to rid herself of all things associated with the dragon kin but no matter where she went or whom she saw, Katsuki's sent followed her.

His presence never left the surrounding woodlands of her home, his heat, his gaze, his sent was always found or felt and it both angered and oddly soothed her.

One evening, after a pointless trip to the market for meat and spices, she found a mighty boar cooked and wrapped on her front steps along with the spices she searched for. She simply scoffed and sent a prolonged glare into the woods then she stepped over the bounty and shut her door.

The meals never stopped coming and they were always large, voluptuous, and plentiful. One day it was elk with exotic fruits, another it was goat from the far away Dunskin mountains and the cheese they produce. Each she rejected with an upturn of her chin and a loud slam of the door.

Her mind often thought of how Katsuki could manage such gathering but the image of his red dragon of a mount reminded her of the unlimited areas he could explore. He wasn't one for gestures to benefit others nor did he ever seem to even care about others. He remained stoic, bold, brass, but now he seemed to provide rather than horde. The bounties she had kicked aside were never wasted and we're always replaced with something more by him.

Her slumber was ripped from her and a panting sob left her throat. Her dreams were filled with his longing gaze, his saddened stature and in this dream her entire being seemed to feel his sadness and regrets. She shook her head to clear it and then suddenly, almost instantly, she could feel a close familiar presence at her doorstep. She did not move to open it and simply resigned to return to an angry sleep.

A heavy sigh passed her lips as she saw another one of the gifts on her door step. It was a elk again but a parcel of rare herbs and a fur coat that matched Katsuki's cloak was added. She tightened her grip on her pack and looked around the woods. Once she felt the familiar feeling of a piercing gaze on her and met the gaze but her eyes held no malice this time. Her shoulders slumped and her gaze went back to the gift and, with difficulty, she hauled the prize inside to prepare it for her dinner, the coat hugging her frame and enveloping it's warmth around her.

In the underbrush lay a wide grinning Katsuki. His many weeks of hunting rare and prized beasts and treasures had not been in vain after all. A revealed and warm presence swelled in his chest upon seeing her accept his gift. His anger was pressing his annoyance when she continued to reject his hard caught kills and expensive gifts, but the drowning regret and grief he felt extinguished those flames. He practically sprinted back to Kirishima, the dragon in the clearing to tell him the news. The dragon snorted and rested his head on the grass as he had been sleeping peacefully before Katsuki stomped on his snout. Katsuki felt a new sense of accomplishment as he prepped himself for the long night of patrolling the woods around her home and guarding the home as well, to then travel far away in the early morning to hunt for her again. This was simply all he could do at the moment. He had failed her, and so he could only hope for her to forgive him, and by the gods was he going to try.

One particularly dark and moonless evening, Katsuki was hauling a new kill to her door when he spotted a bowl, small and wooden, on a rock near the front step. His confusion was evident but he carefully placed the kill down and wrapped the jewels he found in thick cotton and spider webs. He peered into the bowl and found a filling stew inside, it smelled like heaven to him and he let the warmth of the bowl warm his chilled hand. His gaze traveled to her bedroom window and found a pair of blue eyes peeking from the curtains. A small smile passed his lips and he toasted the bowl up to her before drinking it all swiftly. He treasures the small smile she gave him before disappearing once more. The warmth of the stew along with a feeling of appreciation filled his heart again and he places the bowl down and headed back to the clearing to start a fire.

This continued for three weeks, the bowl. Each time he would drink it all and always look for her face. Sometimes he found it, other times he did not, but he always eat like a starving wolf and placed the bowl down for tomorrow's supper. He never ate anything else after eating her food and so this continued for several months. Just him, an offering, and her fleeting gaze that would gradually stay longer each night.

Once they started speaking from the now open window of her bedroom during those nightly meeting is when something new happened and a burst of new sweet emotion filled her harmed heart. His presence was missed rather than dreaded, his gaze she practically longed for and she began looking out onto the horizon for his steed around the time supper was to be made. She began rethinking their argument and her banning him from her home. It was her turn to feel regret and once she understood that her life would simply be less bright and lush without him is when she decided to make a common moment between them into a magnanimous rejoining of his part in her life.

Katsuki made his way to the worn and familiar path his constant footsteps had made in the soil leading to her home. He had memorized all the trees and shrubs leading from the clearing to her home and each time he would do a perimeter sweep before going for his daily supper. Only this night he found not a bowl, but an open door. It's recognizable face hung open and a golden light flowed out of the opening like an celestial gateway. He cautiously approached until his boot steps echoed on the wooden porch. His gaze wavered between hers and the food in her hands. She stood in the doorframe holding his bowl of supper and when he came close enough she handed it to him, but when he went to take it her grip did not loosen. Their intense gazes, one blue and the other red, locked and a connection deeper and more unbreakable then anything. she slowly steps backwards into the home with him following after her. He had finally regained her love and he sealed their bond that night with her wrapped tightly in his arms and her body pressed close to his in a intimate connection only they would experience between one another until the day when they both returned to the external flame.

They're days would been lived and loved with one another until the very end

And so it stayed as such.

[marvelousmarvelimagines]

Need You Now

Part IX (of X) - Don’t Let Me Down (Part 1) (Part II) (Part III) (Part IV) (Part V) (Part VI) (Part VII) (Part VIII)

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Being Tony Stark’s daughter isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. For one, I didn’t want to be in the first place. My normal life was just fine, thank you. Two, there are freaking superheroes all over where I now live. There’s never any privacy. Three, everyone expects me to be this amazing genius and go to this fancy school and do incredible things. I just want to watch Star Wars and write Harry Potter fanfiction. Also, I hate Math.

A/N - Next to last chapter guys! We’re almost at the end of my first series and this chapter is a monster one. I hope you guys enjoy.

Warnings - Violence, language, blood, and then dare I say, a little fluff?

I wanted to laugh. I’m not sure if it was from the ridiculousness of her statement or the stress of the situation. “Wow . . . and I thought I had seen the craziest of the crazy on the subway.” I said. “I guess I was wrong.” 

“Oh really?” Justine said, stalking closer to me. “What’s so crazy about it? It’s not like you wouldn’t benefit from his death, and what exactly has he done for you?” She asked me. 

“You really think I’m shallow enough to be tempted to kill my Dad for money?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at her. 

It was silent for a few moments, but I met her gaze steadily. I had no idea where this courage was coming from, but I knew there was no way that I was killing Tony. Sure, we had our problems, and yes, he mostly just saw me as an inconvenience, but he was still family. Pretty much all the family I had left. Not only that, but he was Iron Man. The world needed him a lot more than it needed me. 

She never looked disappointed though. That smirk stayed on her face every second that she looked at me. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to resort to Plan B.” She fished out a photo from her pocket and tossed it in my lap. “It’s too bad. He’s a cute kid.” 

The picture was blurry, as if taken from a distance, as well as through a window, but it was pretty obvious what it was. It had been taken at the party a few weeks ago. Peter and I were slow dancing, me tucked under his chin and a soft smile on his face. I jerked at my restraints angrily. “You keep him out of this.” 

“He’s already in this darling.” The man said. 

“You’re going to have to chose which you’d rather save. The man who took everything from you, the not so innocent Tony Stark, or the man who could give you everything, innocent Mr. Peter Parker.” 

My hands shook as I looked down at the picture. That was an impossible decision. How the hell was I supposed to choose between Tony and the boy who made me feel at home? 

I wasn’t going to. 

“Tony did something so terrible to you . . . you would hurt an innocent person just to get back at him?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Tony Stark ruined my life.” She hissed, her hands tightening on the arm rests of the chair I was tied in. “The name Hammer used to mean something. My father was an idiot that dug the grave, but Tony Stark put the nail in the coffin. With him gone and nothing but an idiotic daughter who obviously didn’t get any of the Stark brains, Hammer Tech will climb back to the top where it belongs.” 

I shook my head. “I’m not going to kill my Dad, and I’m not going to let you hurt Peter.” 

She just laughed again, making me hate the sound more and more with each passing second. “It’s almost cute how you think you have a choice. Either you kill Tony Stark, or we’ll go get Mr. Parker from his little apartment with his Aunt in Queens and inject him with this.” She played with the vial once again. “Do you know what this is?” 

I didn’t respond, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. She kept on talking anyway. 

“This is a toxin. First it’ll make him pale, cause his temperature to rise. Then he’s going to start coughing. Over and over until his throat is so raw it’ll bleed.” I couldn’t help the shiver that racked my body at the images of Peter, my Peter, she was putting in my head. “After that he will, quite literally, vomit his guts up. It’s not pretty.” 

“And you’re going to have a front row seat to watch.” The man added. 

Oh God . . . how could I watch that? How could I sit here and watch Peter suffer through all that because of me? Tears pricked at my eyes. “You’re sick.” I gasped. 

I cringed as she grabbed a chunk of my hair, twirling it around her fingers before she leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “You have no idea.” Justine whispered, once again laughing at the yelp that left my lips as she tugged harshly on my hair. “We’ll leave you alone to make your decision. Don’t take too long, or we’ll make it for you.” She threatened, smirking as she grabbed a hold of the man’s arm and left the room, slamming the door behind them. 

I had to get out of here. I was terrified, absolutely and totally terrified of what they might do to Tony and Peter. I wasn’t going to let them hurt them, and I knew I couldn’t count on any help. The thought of that had my adrenaline pumping and pushed my panic aside. 

As always, my dorkiness came in handy. They had me tied up in rope. Which just so happened to be the very material my muggle character in my Harry Potter fanfiction had to escape from. Which meant I had done extensive research on how to escape from restraints. Apparently, like the villains in my story, my captors had greatly underestimated me. Since I had been unconscious when tied, the rope around my chest was actually rather loose when I leaned back against the chair. That was good. I knew it would make it easier to get out of.  

I began rotating my wrists back and forth a few times and then leaned down as far as I could, bringing the rope up to my mouth, tugging on a strand with my teeth. I repeated the process several times until one of my thumbs had finally slipped out. Once that happened, I was quickly able to remove the rest from the rope. 

One down, two to go. 

I kicked my shoes off first, knowing it would be easier to get out of without those heels weighing me down. I had to get into a pretty uncomfortable position with my chest still tied, my ass almost falling off the seat, but eventually I was able to shimmy the ropes off my feet. 

One to go. 

I couldn’t reach back to untie the rope around my chest, but because I wasn’t tied very tightly, I was able to wiggle over and over while simultaneously trying to slide down off the chair. Time and time again I kept wiggling until I slipped out of the rope and onto the floor. 

Unfortunately, as soon as I hit the ground, an alarm started blaring. I knew I had only seconds before they were back. I glanced around frantically. There had to be something I could use . . . 

My eyes landed on my bracelet, sitting innocently on the table with some tools. I grabbed it, and I had just enough time to slip it on before the door slammed open. 

I didn’t have time to think. It was almost as if it was instinct, pressing the bead, sliding it up and aiming at the man, my fist opening. I heard a grunt as the light blinded him. Taking the opportunity, I quickly tried to crawl past him, but I wasn’t fast or quiet enough. He grabbed my hair, his eyes still blinking furiously as he tried to get his vision to return. He threw me on my back violently in front of him. When I looked up, my head spinning from the force with which I had hit the concrete, he was holding a gun to my stomach. In panic, my hand shot up in front of me just as he pulled the trigger.  

There was a hot pain against my hand as the glass in the middle exploded, and then there was a scream. My eyes shot open to find the man holding his shoulder, looking murderous. “You bitch!” He yelled, lunging towards me. 

My foot shot up with surprising strength straight to his nose. Apparently I had used so much force, it not only sent blood flying out of his nose, but caused him to stumble backwards straight into a wall, his head hitting it with a loud crack. He hit the ground out cold. 

“You know, I was kind of hoping it would come to this.” 

Her gaze was menacing as she stalked towards me. I scrambled backwards, glass from my hand slicing into my body while my foot I had just kicked the guy with throbbed painfully. I crawled until I hit the wall, frantically looking around for a way out. 

There was that laughter again. “No where to go little Stark. You know, I was going to give you a choice, but now, I’m just going to kill your boyfriend right in front of you.” In a quick movement I barely had time to process, she shoved a knife right below my belly button. 

I screamed as white hot agony shot through my abdomen, numbing every other pain I was currently feeling. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to paint the walls with some of your blood before I make you kill your Daddy. You’d be surprised how much blood someone can lose and still survive.” She said with a little twist of her knife. 

Glass shattered over my head as Justine went flying past me. When I glanced up, all I could see was a suit of blue and red standing protectively in front of me. “Spiderman?” I gasped weakly, completely shocked. 

He didn’t look at me, completely focused on Justine. “You know, it’s really not a good idea to kidnap someone whose Dad is a superhero.” 

A rush of affection filled my chest for the masked hero in front of me. At that moment, I understood everyone at school’s love for the Spiderman. Standing there, strong and not the least bit intimidated, he looked every bit of an Avenger as Captain America. 

“Insect.” She spat, blood spilling out of her mouth. She started to charge-

Spiderman immediately dropped to his knees, covering me. He took out her legs with his web shooters while a bright flash of light exploded over us, knocking her back once again. 

I felt a smile form on my face through the pain. Dad was here. 

“Remember the plan, kid, get her out of here.” Tony’s voice came through the suit. 

Spiderman looked at me for the first time, the whites of his eyes widening as he noticed my blood stained hands, holding my stomach tightly. When he had kicked her off of me, he had inadvertently made her take the knife with her. “Mr. Stark, she’s been stabbed.” 

That voice . . . there was something about that voice . . . 

Tony’s voice was a low growl as he responded. “Get her to Hawkeye.” 

Spiderman slowly and carefully lifted me into his arms, tensing every time I made a gasp of pain. “Hold on tight, okay? I’m going to get you out of her.” He reassured me as I wrapped my arms around his neck. 

I closed my eyes shut tight as I felt the wind whipping my face. I knew we had to be in the air, but I was afraid to open my eyes since the pain was already making me nauseous. When we landed on a rooftop though, I slowly opened my eyes. 

I looked up and found Clint rushing towards us. He took one look at me and started calling out directions. “I’m going to get a car, put some pressure on that and keep her awake!” Clint shouted before diving off the roof. 

Spiderman sat me down on the ground gently before quickly sitting behind me, keeping me between his legs and my back against his chest. “This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.” A web shot out and hit my stomach, causing a gasp of breath to leave me. It was quickly followed by a groan of pain as Spiderman’s hand pressed against my wound heavily. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said over and over, regret clear in his voice. “I’m so sorry Y/N.” 

That voice . . . these arms . . . It wasn’t until he said my name that it all clicked. “Peter?” I managed to say. 

I could almost see his mouth drop from inside his suit. “How-how did you -?” He reached up, taking his mask off. 

A pained smile formed on my face as I watched his curls flop around, those dark eyes staring into mine. I could see in them that he was just as scared as I felt. “I should have known.” I said with a breathless laugh. Apparently that was a bad move as a fiery pain shot through my body again, and more tears fell from my eyes. “It really hurts, Peter,” I whimpered. 

“I know, I know, but you’ll be okay,” Peter tried to reassure me, but I felt his free hand shaking as it touched my cheek. 

I leaned my head back against his shoulder. “Of course I will . . . I gotta give you hell for not telling me that you’re Spiderman.” 

I felt him press a soft kiss against the top of my head. It was so gentle it had my eyes closing, and once they were closed, I couldn’t bring myself to open them again. 

-----

It wasn’t like the movies. I didn’t wake up to an annoying beeping sound. Instead, it was the sound of AC/DC and the incessant tapping of fingers against a screen. My eyelids were heavy, heavier than they had ever been before, but with some effort, I managed to open them. 

The first thing I saw was a beautiful arrangement of flowers, next to that was a box of cookies from my favorite bakery, at the end of the table was a pack of gummy worms on top of a new Star Wars book. The second in the trilogy I was currently reading that I hadn’t gotten around to buying yet. Only then did I notice the ridiculous, and I do mean ridiculous, balloon bouquet. There must have been at least thirty balloons, each with either a funny face or a sarcastic comment about getting better on them. Finally, my eyes landed on the man sitting beside me. 

Tony’s gaze was completely focused on the screen in front of him as he seemed to shuffle things around. His brows were furrowed together in concentration in a very similar way to how mine did. I had never really spent a lot of time studying our physical likeness before, but now that he was there . . . I saw it. Of course he was also currently supporting a pretty nasty looking black eye. An eye he had gotten protecting me.  “Dad?” I said, quietly. It was the first time I had addressed him as such, to his face, and I was surprised to find it didn’t feel forced at all. In fact . . . it kind of felt almost natural. 

Tony’s head shot over to me, nothing but concern in his eyes. “Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?” He asked. 

I thought about it for a minute, looking down at myself. My foot was in a boot, my hands wrapped in bandages, and even though I couldn’t see it, I knew there was another bandage on my stomach. “I’ve been better. Also probably worse. What are you working on?” I asked. 

“I’m designing you a suit. What happened will not happen again.” He turned the screen around, showing me a quick glimpse. 

“You don’t have to do that.” I said quickly. “I loved the bracelet. It saved my life.” 

“It shouldn’t have had to. I should have been working on this months ago. As soon as I knew you were in danger.” Tony replied, turning back to the tablet. 

I watched him for a few moments before speaking up. “How long did you know?” 

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “A couple of months. I get threats all the time. They usually amount to nothing, I thought it would be the same for you, but just in case, I assigned you a tail.” He nodded his head out the door where I had just noticed a floppy, brown haired boy sleeping in a chair, cuddling my Chewbacca doll. I couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight. “Don’t be too hard on the kid, okay? He really cares about you. Probably would have tailed you even if I hadn’t told him to.” I bit my lip, looking down at my hands, “and not that it’s any of my business, but I just told Peter to talk to you. I wasn’t telling him what to say, and he wasn’t giving any reports or anything like that. So anything you two said . . . it’s between you two.” 

“Does this mean you’ll stop trying to intimidate him?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at him as I looked back up at him. 

“Nope, like I told him, it’s the Dad’s job to intimidate the boyfriend. There was a whole chapter on it in, Raising a Teenage Daughter For Dummies.” 

I couldn’t help but smile a little at that, shaking my head at him. Then, to my surprise, he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Don’t scare me like that again, kiddo.” 

The sudden affection that swelled in my chest almost knocked the breath out of me. I couldn’t believe how closed off I had been to this man who had risked his life for mine. Tears were filling my eyes quickly by the time I was able to respond. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. 

“You got kidnapped. That’s not your fault.” 

“I ran off. It was my fault. I thought you were trying to control my life, and Mom always said I had problems with authority -”

“I guess that makes two of us.” Tony said with a smirk, “but my decisions about all of this . . . might not have been the best. Which is why I’ve decided to give you an option.” Tony added. 

I raised my eyebrows. 

“I’ve talked to your Aunt. With some financial compensation, she agreed to move to Brooklyn. You could start back at your old school. All I ask for is weekly dinners with your old man.” 

My heart, if not already at bursting mode, was quickly reaching there. “You mean . . . even if I moved away, you’d still want to see me?” 

My question, along with my tears, only seemed to confuse him. “Well, yeah . . . you’re my daughter. Now that I know that you exist you’re not getting rid of - Oomph!” 

With surprising strength for being so hurt, I pulled Tony into a tight hug. “I want to stay here. I want to stay here and keep going to Midtown.” 

Tony chuckled softly, hugging me back tightly. “I’m glad Y/N.” He slowly pulled away, ruffling my hair. “Now, as much fun as this father/daughter bonding has been, there’s a Spiderling in the hallway who has been sitting there since you got here, and if he’s not home soon, his Aunt might kill me.” 

I giggled a little, brushing my tears away with my bandaged hands before a thought had me panic struck. “I don’t look hideous do I?” 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a Stark. We never look hideous. Everyone else just looks slightly more presentable.” 

My dad was ridiculous. 

“By the way, I’m still making you that suit.” He said as he started to walk out the door. 

“Bracelet!” I called after him. 

Tony sighed, “fine, but you’re going to start taking self defense with Cap and Legolas. We’ll see how much you can take of that before you’re begging me for a suit.” 

“You might be surprised. Starks can take a lot, right?” I said, another smile on my face. 

His returning grin was wide. “Hell yeah, they can.” Tony turned around then, clapping his hands loudly and startling Peter so much he almost toppled over. “Underoos! She’s awake.” Tony told him. 

Peter’s gaze shot over to me and our eyes locked. My smile turned shy at the intensity of his look. He immediately leapt out of his chair in his haste to get to me. “Y/N! You’re awake! I was - I was so worried. There was so much - so much blood, and I thought I would never get to tell you how sorry I was. Because I am. I am so sorry.” 

The whole time he was rambling, all I could do was smile, memorizing my favorite features of him, his messy curls, the chocolate eyes, the soft pink lips . . . 

“All Mr. Stark said was to like say hi and maybe show you around and look after you. Then I saw you though, and - and you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. You were so funny too and just as big of a fan of Star Wars as Ned and me, which is saying something, and you just . . . you get me, and I get you and -”

“Peter?” 

Finally, his rambling stopped at my voice. 

I couldn’t stop myself when I saw those brown, wide eyes. I reached up, grabbing him by the back of the head and pulled his lips down to mine. 

He was startled, but almost immediately responded, his warm lips gently pressing back against mine in a soft caress. 

It was amazing. Honestly I could have been struck by a car at that moment, and I wouldn’t have felt a damn thing. Nothing could compare to the feeling of Peter Parker’s lips against mine, one hand on my waist, pulling me a little closer, while his other cupped my jaw. I completely melted at his soft touch, and then, to my surprise, I felt him bring my bottom lip between his, nibbling on it slightly. The sensation that caused forced a moan through my lips and my hand to tighten in his hair. 

As soon as I made the sound, Peter drew back, looking at me with panicked eyes. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

In my post-kiss daze, it took a moment to realize what he meant, but once I did, I couldn’t help but flush. “That’s um - that’s not why I was moaning.” 

The tips of Peter’s ears went pink. “So - uh - I can - I can keep kissing you?” 

“I really hope so. I need a few more kisses to make sure that was really as amazing as I thought it was.” I told him, softly trailing my fingers through his hair. 

Peter was smiling when our lips met again. 

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[ao3porcelainstorm]

poison ivy & stinging nettles 7

On Ao3

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 6 - Chapter 8

Chapter 7- Azalea

~~~

They say doctors are the worst patients, and now I'm going to include pharmacists under that criteria as well.

~~~

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Amelia sputtered, her skin flushing while she heaved what little contents she had left in her stomach.

“Your heart rate is out of control,” John threw his stethoscope around his neck, irritation clear while he repeated his argument again. “You need IV fluids, supportive care, and god forbid, a team ready to resuscitate you!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Amelia wiped at her mouth with her pajama sleeve. “Unless I am unconscious and have no choice, I don’t consent. I refuse. I don’t trust hospitals, they’re sterile and tend to attract people like my mother into their politics.”

“It’s not a for profit system,” John continued.

“Say that to your government,” she gagged again, another slurry of vomit pouring into the bucket.

“Your fever hasn’t gone down,” he added, running a hand through his hair nervously. Things weren’t ideal for Amelia, and given the state of near delirium she was in, he couldn’t convince her that the hospital was her best option.

“I’ll take an ice bath,” she murmured, her head dipping slightly. She was converted in sweat, shaking, and far too dehydrated for John’s liking.

“Here,” Sherlock slipped back into Amelia’s flat, handing him a small vial.

“What is this?” John examined the liquid to the light.

“Anti-nausea medication,” he gave Amelia a quick smile. “I’d suggest you administer it quickly.”

Amelia readily held out her arm, and John gave her the injection. It took a few minutes, but before she could ask when it’s going into affect, she dropped forward, asleep.

“Problem solved,” Sherlock plucked the bucket out of Amelia’s lap and scooped her up bridal style. “An ambulance is on its way.”

“What did you do?” John checked her pulse, still thrumming at a rapid rate.

“A very mild sedative,” Sherlock explained. “She was close to collapsing anyway, this just gave her an extra incentive.”

“And if she doesn’t wake up?”

“Then you’re not a very good doctor then, are you?” The detective shot back. “There are socks in the top drawer, could you help me get them on her feet?”

“Christ Sherlock,” John huffed, fishing out a pair of solid orange socks. “I thought she’d died.”

“She’ll be fine, it’s not stronger than a lid of cold medicine,” he rolled his eyes. “She’s just too damned stubborn to realize how stupid she’s being.”

John didn’t have an argument against that. He just sighed and slipped the socks off her dangling feet.

“Medics are here,” he looked over through the small window at the flashing lights.

“Oh my goodness,” Mrs. Hudson fretted in the hall, holding the door open for Sherlock. “I’ll be up as soon as I can! I’ll make sure to let her family know.”

“Thank you Mrs. Hudson,” John replied when Sherlock didn’t bother answering.

~~~

After Amelia had been admitted to a private unit, hooked up to fluids, and John was satisfied, the men settled into the two visitors chairs set up in her room.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” Sherlock hopped up, unable to sit still for very long. He paced the room, stopping in front of the large window over looking the neighborhood. “She’s fine all day, a little nervous, and then as soon as we reach Baker Street, she’s ill?”

“She could have picked something up when you two went on your outing,” John was watching the monitor tracking her vitals with unease. Her heart rate had gone down minutely, but he reasoned that had to do with her sleeping.

“Not a sneeze, John,” Sherlock frowned, his hands tucked behind his back. “We see the same man who burned down her shop, and she comes home severely ill.”

“I don’t know Sherlock, maybe someone poisoned her when we weren’t looking,” John threw a hand up, trying to focus on the more serious situation at hand.

Sherlock frowned, watching Amelia fuss around on the hospital bed, rolling on her side facing John, before her eyes opened.

“Hospital?” She asked groggily.

“We didn’t have much of a choice,” John reached for her hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Get some sleep. We’re not going anywhere.”

She hummed in contentment at the promise, closing her eyes, and sinking back into the covers.

“Think John,” Sherlock returned to the seat, his fingers tapping on one another, steepled in front of him. He closed his eyes, walking through every aspect of that day. He was convinced this was some kind of sabotage, even if John was skeptical.

Monty’s house?

A brief hug, and she only touched the bag, and he and John would have been exposed as he had taken the bag after returning to Baker Street.

No food or drink consumed.

The return to the train station, she never left his sight until-

They’d returned after questioning the man and she was talking to someone, a man with a bundle of flowers spilled over in her lap.

The hospital room transformed into the train station, an exact replica of how Sherlock had remembered it upon returning to the bench with John.

“That’s a lot of pollen for a few flowers, isn’t it, Sherlock?” Amelia’s voice chimed from next to him. She looked healthier, a benefit of her being a figment of his imagination, but she still pulled that face she made when Sherlock was being slow on catching onto something.

He froze the memory, walking up to the memory Amelia on the bench.

“Mostly roses and Queen Anne’s lace,” he noted, glancing down at the bright orange pollen that coated Amelia’s lap. Her hand was frozen midair, about to swat the pollen off of her dark jeans. “Not heavy pollinators.”

“You have learned a few things,” Mind-Palace Amelia beamed back at him, tilting her head to the side to get a better view of the scene. “Looks like I’m about to make a big mess of it... I wonder... what does this pollen remind you of?”

He blinked, the fabric lunch bag Monty had given them appearing in his hand. He slowly opened the bag, and looked at the spores in the four syringes.

“Why are they in syringes, Sherlock?” Amelia quizzed him, the Canterbury train station shifting into the Baker Street flat.

She circled him, a knowing smile on her face while he considered her question.

“To keep the spores contained and uncontaminated, it’s a gel like substance,” he recited, recalling the books she’d forced him to read through.

“And if I were to take a fully grown mushroom-,” a toadstool mushroom appeared in her hand. She held it near Sherlock’s face and shook it. “-what happens?”

“The spores go everywhere,” he realized. “Like pollen.”

“And why couldn’t I finish the research before leaving Chemco?”

“You couldn’t figure out how to properly bind the psilocybin elements to the chemotherapy drugs without activating the psychedelic properties. They wanted the physical effects without the obvious hallucinogenics.”

“I know you can do the math in this pretty head of yours,” she turned to the desk and scribbled down the binding agents chemical equation, and a few of the equations from the mushrooms she’d researched.

“Which one works?” She asked, and he picked the proper strain. “I could never figure out how to add it to the therapies because it couldn’t be mixed in. They intend to make it airborne, Sherlock. We were looking at the wrong angles.”

“Airborne?” He ran through the calculations. “Of course...”

“They add it to supply boxes, some nurses get it on their hands, other don’t... cancer patients have very weak immune systems, so small doses would be used.”

“They wouldn’t hurt the otherwise healthy workers,” he finished the thought.

“But if I was exposed, and I’m ill?” She tried, an arched brow.

“You received a concentrated dose,” he snapped back to the hospital room, voicing the thought outlaid, nearly scaring the life out of John.

“What is it?” John folded his newspaper in his lap, pausing to get control of his heart rate at the sudden interruption after hours of silence from the detective.

“Spores,” Sherlock exclaimed, standing up. “I need to run to Baker Street. Can you call Molly and see if she can get the lab set up?”

“Sherlock, there’s really no time-,”

“John, the adverse drugs we’ve been trying to figure out this entire time,” Sherlock turned to face Amelia. “That’s what’s in her system.”

“Someone... tried to poison her?” John was a little bemused by the concept, though he knew that it did raise the urgency of their reaction considerably. “Remind me, was it guarantee death or just symptomatic?”

“It depends on the dose and patient,” Sherlock replied in a low voice. “I’ll be in touch.”

~~~

Sherlock felt so foolish for not having considered it sooner.

The spores with the biding agent would cause significant distress within the human body. The chemotherapy had nothing to do with it, aside from signifying the control group.

Most blood tests, urine panels, and also a tests wouldn’t pick up on mushrooms, as they would be metabolized too quickly. Hair samples would contain the molecule that causes the psychedelic response, but if that’s removed and the fungus is turned more malicious, there wouldn’t be a test at present that would detect an abnormality.

Unless, it tested for the specific spore she was exposed to.

“Bloody spores,” he muttered, switching slides and peering through the microscope. “It was so obvious.”

The weakened immune systems of cancer patients would more readily take the hit, whereas a healthy person, such as a nurse, would be unaffected.

That meant, unfortunately, that whatever Amelia had been dosed with was something far stronger than what Chemco would have had planned. Someone was trying to get rid of her.

He reached for a new slide, his hand nearly catching a full cup of coffee next to him.

That hadn’t been there before, he frowned, lifting a small note tape to the surface:

Hang in there! - Molly

She must have slipped in when he was focused on the microscopic spores. Shrugging, he took a large sip and continued his work, texting John updates as he eliminated a few of the samples.

“If you keep furrowing your eyebrows like that, you’re going to get wrinkles,” Amelia’s voice chided playfully. “How many times have I told you that? You’re going to look like a Klingon with all of that frowning and pouting.”

“I’m an adult, I don’t pout,” he countered, reciting back the words she’d used against him previously. He glanced up and Amelia was smiling at him from the end of the lab table, her head propped up between her hands.

“That’d be far more clever if I was actually here,” she pointed out, still smirking. “I wonder why you’re hallucinating me and not John? Is it because you’re worried?” She asked the question in a sing-song voice, moving around the table to look over his shoulder at the samples.

“I’m not hallucinating,” he countered, returning his attention to the microscope. “I must have gone into my mind palace again.”

Amelia snorted, examining the coffee cup, her hands folded behind her back.

“Did you see Molly drop this off?” she asked casually. “I mean, someone’s clearly trying to kill me. Wouldn’t you be the logical next step?”

Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, but suddenly John cut in.

“She isn’t wrong, Sherlock,” he sighed. “You really need to be more careful, I don’t know if I could handle both of my friends dying on me today.”

“Sherlock, goodness, we’re going to leave poor John all alone because you’re being careless,” Amelia shook her head in disappointment.

“John, I know you’re not here, I was just texting-,” his hand swatted around him, and he jolted awake, his hand hitting the device next to him. “Shit.”

“Language,” Amelia warned, reappearing next to him. “Surprise, I’m still here. I guess I’m just the personification of your consciousness currently. I wonder what that means? Regardless, you’ve definitely lost a few hours. You should probably check in on John and the real me, though be careful with those long legs- you’ve gotten a pretty hefty dose of something and you’re going to be off balance.”

Sherlock, ignoring the hallucination, jumped up and nearly toppled over when the floor seemed to move under him.

“Oh, doesn’t this remind you of a drug you took once? Was it mushrooms? Or ecstasy?” she asked, watching him struggle. She looked at a clock over his shoulder. “Geez. Three hours. I hope I’m not dead.”

~~~

John had left the hospital room, telling the nurse he was going to pick up some dinner and drag Sherlock out of the lab, leaving Amelia alone for less than an hour. It was still relatively early, and visitors were shuffling in and out of the hospital, so it wasn’t unusual when someone stopped by the American’s room to pay their respects and drop off a card with flowers.

“You’re nothing special, are you?” The man entered the room, covered by a large coat, his collar pulled up to conceal his face from cameras in the halls. He lifted the chart at the foot of her bed, scoffing at the diagnostics, and tossed it down. “All that fuss.”

He stepped closer to her, lifting a piece of sticky hair off of her sweaty forehead. Watching her struggle in her drug induced sleep, he tried to see what his colleague had described as an intelligent young woman who’d turned tail at the first sign of trouble. A coward.

Now she was an artist, living on inherited money, with Sherlock Holmes.

Her heart rate continued to thrum at an unsustainable speed. He glanced up at the machine, reading over her vitals passively.

The man hadn’t considered her a coward from what he’d read. In fact, it was quite the opposite, and almost irritatingly so.

If he hadn’t tracked down some of her early research through his planted man on the Chemo board, he would have considerably displeased with the amount of money she was going to cost him now that Brenner’s idiotic plan was falling through.

She jerked in her bed, gasping for air, before falling still, her vitals beginning to crash.

“You’re going to die,” he sighed, making a final call and fishing a small syringe out of his jacket pocket. He hooked it to the IV port in her arm just before her heart-rate stopped. “We haven’t had our play date yet, and I’d hate to miss out on that.”

He emptied the syringe, watching the dark liquid quickly get sucked up by her body. Almost immediately, her heart rate started up again, slowing from the high 190s to 150s until it steadied out in the 80s.

Satisfied, he lifted her limp hand and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. Spying a white flower peeking out from the grocery store bouquet he’d use to slip in, he grinned.

Perfect.

He placed a single flower of white azalea between her fingers from the bouquet, letting the hand drop back to her side.

“We’ll see each other soon, mon cherie,” he whispered before leaving the room, careful to steal one full look into the security camera in the hall.

Sherlock would know to check, he was certain of this.

~~~

“Is that John?” Fake Amelia asked, circling Sherlock while he struggled through the maze of halls leading back to her room. “I think that’s John. Is he real though?”

Sherlock approached the doctor, swatting at his hand and taking a relieved breath.

“Oh thank god, you’re real,” he murmured, holding his head. “We need to get back to the room.”

“Sherlock, Jesus, are you ok?” John tucked the bag of takeout under his arm and steadied his friend.

“Drugged,” Sherlock slurred, closing his eyes and trying to readjust his senses, but the space remained a dizzy blur, aside from Amelia smirking at him from behind John.

“Tick tock,” she hummed, shifting her weight between her heels and toes impatiently.

“Shut up,” Sherlock snapped.

“What?” John looked over is shoulder where Sherlock directed the command.

“Not you,” he corrected, shaking his head. “Amelia… Not actually Amelia…”

“Let’s get you back upstairs,” John guided the disoriented detective toward the elevator. “Do you know what happened?”

“How long have you been out of the hospital room?” Sherlock asked, spying the bag of food.

“Ah, just a few minutes or so,” he replied. “I was on my way to grab you for dinner…”

Sherlock recognized the name of the takeout restaurant and ran the mental calculations, struggling on specifics with Amelia finally chiming in.

“Based on where he is now, with no other stops, and accounting for food prep, he’s probably been gone for about 25 minutes,” she supplied, biting her bottom lip, a new nervous energy surrounding her.

“Half-hour,” Sherlock mumbled, ignoring John’s peppered questions. When the elevator re-opened, the detective charged past the nurses trying to get his attention. John, however, stopped and listened to what they were describing as a “miracle”.

Sherlock held himself up in the doorway of the hospital room, struck silent by the scene in front of him.

Amelia was sitting up in bed, twisting a flowers uneasily between her fingers while a doctor asked her some questions and double checked her vitals.

“Sherlock,” she greeted, her expression brightening up slightly. “You look terrible.”

“We don’t know what happened, Mr. Holmes,” the female doctor stated sheepishly. “One minute she’s crashing, the next she’s perfectly normal.”

“Weird,” Amelia strained a smile, her eyes falling back down on the flower in her hand.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours,” the doctor decided, looking back at her chart and shaking her head in disbelief.

“Sherlock, you should sit down,” John caught Sherlock by the arm and guided him to one of the visitor seats, before pulling out a small flashlight from his pocket.

“Do you always have that?” Amelia teased softly, sitting still while John checked her over, re-checking, and checking again, until he was satisfied with what he saw. Confused, but satisfied.

“You just- woke up?” John asked, still shaken by the sudden recovery of his friend. It didn’t make any sense. There was simply no scientific explanation for what had happened.

Amelia paused, her fingers still toying with the flower.

“I did,” she answered.

“Azalea,” Sherlock grumbled, leaning back with his eyes shut.

“He really doesn’t miss a thing, does he?” she joked, a shake to her voice.

“Tell John what it means,” Sherlock ordered, his head still throbbing and the room still spinning around him.

“Is he okay?” Amelia looked to John in concern, and Sherlock groaned loudly.

“Stop stalling, I’m fine, just a minor drugging-,” he grunted. “Azalea. What does it mean?”

“They mean a lot of different things,” she quickly confessed. “I mean, now they’re usually more positive, but it wasn’t always the case. I mean, they’re in the rhododendron family, so there are malicious connotations. They were death threats in Victorian times, though a modern interpretation of a white azalea would be fragility, temperance, and restraint.”

“Restraint?” John echoed uneasily. “Fragility…”

“Don’t forget the death part,” Sherlock chimed in.

“It was in my hand when I woke up,” she continued, looking down at the white petals.

“This wasn’t a random miracle,” Sherlock concluded, sitting up shakily. “Someone needed time to slip in. They drugged me, waited until John left…”

“And cured me…?” Amelia seemed hesitant in the conclusion. “Why?”

“Why would someone poison you in the first place?” Sherlock questioned back.

“If you have an actual answer, say that,” Amelia shot back, her expression souring at the implication in his tone. “I’m not particularly interested in puzzles at the moment.”

“I’m sorry I’m a little distracted, the room has changed color three times and John keeps turning into Mycroft,” he snapped tersely.

“I’m going to get a nurse to pull a blood sample,” John announced, escaping the room as their tempers rose.

There was moment of silence before Amelia spoke up again.

“You don’t think you were exposed to the same-?” her tone was meek at the thought of him going through the hell she’d just experienced.

“No,” he sounded confident in that respect. “I think it was just regular mushrooms. Someone trying to be clever.”

Amelia just nodded, a heaviness sinking into the pit of her stomach. They were so close, and yet, another mystery.

He gave a shudder and Amelia tutted under her breath.

“Come here,” she set the flower on a nearby table, shifting to the side of the hospital bed and pulling up the covers.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled in protest.

“Oh stop being a baby,” she patted the empty space next to her. “Besides, I’m cold too.”

Sighing dramatically, he moved to the bed and crawled in next to her, letting her pulling the covers over both of them.

“There, isn’t that much better?” she asked, shifting a little to get comfortable. “Honestly, you always fight such reasonable solutions to your problems.”

“Shh,” he absently swatted at her, rolling onto his side, snuggling under the covers.

He knew she was right.

It was probably why his consciousness had developed her features when he was looking for common-sense guidance.

Of course, Sherlock never would have admitted it out loud.

By the time John had tracked down the equipment he needed, he returned to the hospital room where the pair were sleeping peacefully.

Amelia was curled around Sherlock’s waist, the detective’s arm slung over her shoulders and his head resting on hers.

While he decided not to bother him for the blood draw, John did snap a quick photograph on his phone- for sentiment’s sake.

Chapter 8

[thefutureisplywoodbikes]

Harte Rates, 2020, #1

I have watched some films.  Here are the films I have watched.

1. What We Do in the Shadows (2014) - 8/10

Good cast.  Good fun.  Does well with it’s budget, sparingly employing effective special effects and makes good use of the mockumentary format.  Liked it, but didn’t love it.

2. Manhattan Baby (1982) - 5/10 This was originally planned to be one of Fulci’s most expensive films but having had it’s budget cut in half during production what you get is a fairly pedestrian disappointment.  Some good photography and a smattering of half-decent effects work suggests that things could have been better had the producers not fucked him over, but ultimately it’s a pretty forgettable affair.  (As evidenced by the fact I can’t really remember what happened)

3. My Cousin Vinny (1992) - 8/10

Not sure if it was watching Home Alone and The Irishman at the tail-end of last year that prompted me to re-watch this, but fondly remembering it from my childhood I wanted to see how it held up.  It holds up well.  Yes, it’s implausibly plotted, but it’s sharply scripted the result is an amiable romp with some great performances, not least Marisa Tomei’s Oscar winning performance as the titular Vinny’s long-suffering but supportive fiancee.

4. Little Women (2019) - 8/10

My first trip to the cinema this year and a very pleasant way to start; this was a welcome antidote to the gloom and horror that 2020 was offering up in the real world.  It’s a refreshingly nice film.  It reminded me a bit of Terms of Endearment but less overtly sentimental.  Good performances all round from a strong ensemble, with Florence Pugh and Saoirse Ronan standing out as especially accomplished.  Timothy Chalomet is also good and avoids being annoying with a character that easily could be.  Less immediately likeable than Ladybird for me, the film is smartly constructed and directed with assurance and restraint and a good eye for colour.  Well worth a look.

5. It's My Turn (1980) - 5/10

I mostly watched this because this it was a 1980 film featuring Michael Douglas and Charles Grodin that I’d never heard of and because I sometimes like to watch obscure stuff I’m not invested in to fall asleep to.  It’s not exceptional but it has it’s moments and by focussing on the male stars to start I’ve done it a bit of a disservice.  Jill Clayburn, whose name I know but am otherwise largely unfamiliar with, is the real star of the show.  Directed by Claudia Weill from a script by Eleanor Bergstein (who’d go on to write Dirty Dancing) you get a refreshingly nuanced and complex take on the romantic comedy with an intelligent and accomplished woman (Clayburn plays a Maths professor) at it’s centre and, like watching Varda (though to a far lesser extent) you are reminded of how much more interesting things can be when women are able to be in control of telling their own stories.  The plot’s mediocre and there’s too much music throughout, but the script has some decent moments and there’s more emotional maturity at play in how it handles it’s relationships than you tend to see in mainstream cinema.  It’s certainly not great but might it satisfy your curiosity if you keep your expectations low.

6. La Dolce Vita (1960) - 9/10

Unquestionably a masterpiece, but having seen 8 1/2 last year it’s hard not to look at this as to some extent a rehearsal for that film, which has a more even tone and benefits from the director’s injection of self reproach and whimsical humour.  There’s still lot’s to love here though and i found myself checking off traces of it’s influence in much that has come since; Antonioni’s depiction of Rome in L’Eclisse, the depth of contrast and camera movements of Cuaron’s Roma, Altman’s drifting focus and, seemingly, the entire basis of Sorrentino’s career.  (That last part may be unfair, I’ve only seen The Great Beauty and Youth)  It also seems to me to be in part a check to the romanticised depiction of Rome that featured in Roman Holiday, where the paparazzo and exploitative reporter are loveable rogues (and American ex-pats) who ultimately comport themselves honourably.   Fellini’s Rome, while still bristling and bursting with glamour is far more cut-throat.  Structured over 7 days in the life of Mastroianni’s jaded journalist, the film largely luxuriates in the heady Cosmopolitan glitz of life among the rich and famous in 60′s Rome the film also ventures to some surprisingly dark places and though repeat viewings may change my mind, it felt it little uneven in tone on this viewing.  Also, while the film features a parade of great actresses it doesn’t really give them much to do other than present themselves for adoration and/or degradation, something that 8 1/2 also improves on (though arguably marginally)

7. Motel Hell (1980) - 6.5/10

A better than average little 80′s horror with competent direction, some visual flair in it’s use of colour and it’s tongue in it’s cheek.  Oh and a chainsaw battle, if that sort of thing floats your boat.

8. Daisies (1966) 10/10

Fucking magnificent.  An anarchic, inventive delight full of charm, wit and compelling imagery.

9. Five Fingers of Death (1972) - 6/10

Aka King Boxer.  I thought I’d seen this before but I’m not sure I had.  It’s decent enough; it’s better plotted/paced than a lot of kung fu films, if you’re not already a fan though I’m not sure this’ll convert you.

10. Sweet Smell of Success (1957) - 9/10

Burt Lancaster shines as the black-hearted Broadway columnist J.J. Hunsecker manipulating Tony Curtis’s press agent into a downward spiral of dark deeds in pursuit of J.J.’s favour.  Blackly cynical, it sits well along-side Billy Wilder’s Ace In The Hole and the aforementioned La Dolce Vita for the disdain it shows toward the less scrupulous side of the journalistic trade, and has a wonderfully mean script full of barbed jibes and menace.  Also of note is the beautifully textured photography of pioneering cinematographer James Wong Howe, who also shot Hud and Seconds among many, many other films.  It’s a shame more contemporary films don’t portray the rich and powerful with as much unashamed venom as this delivers.

11. Who Saw Her Die? (1972) - 6.5/10

A better than average Giallo; the plot’s still clunky and overcomplicated but the imagery is good, there’s some decent stunts and effects and there’s a great score by Ennio Morricone that elevates it.

12. El Topo (1970) - 8/10

I last saw this many years ago as a midnight movie and fell asleep for an uncertain amount of time in the middle so it was nice to see it in full.  Actually, nice probably isn’t the word.  While there’s amazing imagery and a grand meandering and maniacal story, the massive quantity of dead animals that feature in the film (and were killed exclusively for it’s aesthetic) dampened my enthusiasm somewhat for it’s artful expression.  There’s some amazing scenes and the idiosyncratic allure of Jodorowsky persist, but I’m in large part glad they don’t make ‘em like they used to.  The Dance of Reality is a far friendlier and engaging showcase for his creative spirit, as is the excellent documentary Jodorosky’s Dune

13. Cameraman: The Life and Work of Jack Cardiff (2010) -  8/10

A solid little documentary about one of cinema’s greatest cinematographers.  The man whose technicolor wizardry was instrumental in bringing the Red Shoes, A Matter of Life and Death, Black Narcissus to life.  Also shot The African Queen and Rambo: First Blood Part II.  Well worth a watch to spark or rekindle enthusiasm for catching up with Powell and Pressburger if nothing else.

14. Les Demoiselles de Rochefort (1967) - 9/10

An infectiously gleeful musical, where even a slightly baffling subplot about a serial killer doesn’t manage to dampen the mood.  Wonderfully colourful, what it might slightly lack in choreographic finesse it more than makes up for with gallic charm and sly artful direction that teases and tortures its audience with the knowledge that it possesses and the characters do not.

15. Winter Light (1963) - 10/10

81 bleak beautiful minutes of gorgeously shot, pristinely directed cinema.  Devilishly well written and wonderfully acted (Gunnar Björnstrand and Ingrid Thulin are particularly excellent) you get a similar sense of the philosophical and theological searching you get with Nuri Bilge Ceylan delivered in a fraction of the time. 

16.  F/X2 (1991) - 5/10

Somehow they managed to make a sequel more ridiculous than F/X Murder by Illusion.  A sillier re-run of the original has Bryan Brown returning as “Rollie” Tyler and managing to foil corrupt cops and mafia henchmen with the questionable aid of Bryan Dennehy’s detective ineptitude and a bunch of McGuyver style bullshit.  Also, overlong.  No-one needs 109 minutes of this.  It saddens me somewhat that this was directed by Richard Franklin, whose 1981 film Roadgames is a taut little Ozsploitation delight.  Watch that instead.

Right think that’ll do.  See you in a couple of weeks.  (*fingers crossed*)

[intrepidmare]

My observations watching 🎯 Arrow 5x20 "Underneath"

Note: I so freaking loved this episode!!! I've seen it literally like 10 times already. It has an issue or 2 that bothers me, but I ignore that and enjoy the rest. I was too excited last night to write any of my scene-by-scene reactions, and reviews with a more general approach are better, so I decided to continue to do them this way. I can't guarantee that this would organize as could be, 'cause I'm still too hyped about it, anyway... Let's get started and get ready for a long review!

Olicity in the present day:

OMG! I love that they were forced to confront their issues! AT LAST!! It makes you wonder if Prometheus a shipper too hehehehe. Despite of everything he’s done, we have to thank him one thing at least. Anyhow, it's been way too long for Oliver and Felicity to have the talk. Altho, I'd have like them to fight even more, like Dyla did. Yelling at each other, really yelling and letting everything out (well Felicity yelled a bit --I loved she telling 'I told you so' to Oliver). 

I wish sometimes that Oliver stopped being so stubborn!! He knows by now that all he needs to do is what his wifey tells him. Why he even tries to go against that?! Let's hope this new scar reminds him that for the rest of his life. Putting aside my desires to strangle him for that, poor baby!! After that fall, ouch ouch, ouch. You could see how bad he was injured since the beginning, touching his back, limping, and sitting down every time he could. No good signs. That man has the will and strength of a thousand men, 'cause even being in so bad shape, he managed to carry Felicity on his back down the tunnel and then up the to the surface. Not only that! He pulled her up when almost fell. I almost laugh at Felicity when she told him to let her go. Yeah, riiiiiight! Like if that would ever happen. Please, it's ridiculous to think that he would! Oliver would chop his own head off first!

Funny side note: Oliver always complaining about the pain when Felicity is treating him; any other time he take it without flinching, with her... not so much. though he had all the right to complain this time. it was a really big and bad boo-boo

Okay now to the angsty part. God, the scene of Oliver confessing to Felicity broke my heart in a zillion of pieces. I'm not okay after that. All I wanted was to hug my baby!! And I gotta say that once more, Stephen made a spectacular performance there. Honestly, his acting in this season has been off the charts. I'm impressed the delicate changes in his speech as the scene progressed. You can notice how he was losing strength as he went on. Not like typically actors do that in one sec they're speaking normally and the next they're unconscious.

Can we talk about how Felicity was against Oliver's chest with her hand over his heart like making sure that was still beating? I'm-- I'm not ok.

And Felicity's speech didn't help me either. So much feels!! Gosh how I missed those Olicity moments. I hope that now we'll get more and more of them.

Do you know what else I loved? The way that Felicity injected the adrenaline into Oliver. No thinking, no hesitation. She did what she needed to do. Our badass cupcake has come a loooooooooong way from not liking blood and afraid of needles to stitching Oliver like a pro and stabbing a needle into his heart.

Olicity in the flashbacks: 

Oh so much heart eyes, flirting, touching, salmon ladder, sex!! YESS!!! And *sighs* hard truths.  I think that the reason they made so lit at the beginning was to have a more painful effect at the end. I should complain about the sex not being so hot as in 3x20 but I kinda expected that it would be this way so it didn't crush my expectations, but it's olicity sex so YAYYY!! WOOHOO!! (another side note: I won't see the sparring mat the same EVER AGAIN!)

The fallout... well, it was as painful as I thought it was gonna be. I prepared myself for that so... 

Altho, that doesn't explain how they got from that to how they were in 5x01. I guess I need to add that the things that don't make sense (I'm talking about that below) However, both Felicity and Oliver said hard truths to each other. And It was nice to see later on that for once Felicity apologized for walking away. That was necessary. Because their problems are not only Oliver’s fault. Felicity also shares part of the blame.

OTA: 

OMG!! I LOVED that scene when Dig goes down to meet Felicity and Oliver halfway. The best!!!

Dyla: 

I'm sooooooo glad they're working on their issues and got on track. I gotta say that even it isn't okay that Lyla kept things from Diggle or stole Curtis' t-spheres, she was absolutely right in calling him a hypocrite, cuz yeah, he was... a bit. I mean is okay when Oliver and the team sent Slade and others to Lian Yu Supermax or to work in the Suicide Squad (without trial), but is not okay that she has black op sites to hold her prisoners? And she also was right when she told him that John has Oliver's back not matter what he does, but when it comes to her, his WIFE, he doesn't do the same. Fortunately, Dig is much evolved and mature (and MUCH less stubborn) that someone else we know, so he apologized soon enough.

Curtis: 

After this episode, I've forgiven him for ALL the annoying things he had said and will continue saying. I have to! We have to thank him for his little set-up that pushes Oliver and Felicity to have sex! I know that the end was painful but Curtis managed to orchestrate what we've been wanting to see for over a year now.

Adrian and William:

Yeah, I knew that would happen in the moment when Adrian showed Oliver the picture back on 5x17. And seriously?!! After all that's happened, nobody has taught William not to speak with strangers?!!! 

Something good that could come out of this is Oliver realizing that keeping his son away doesn't protect him from harm!! in fact, makes him more vulnerable.

Things that don't make sense:

Felicity's wheelchair conveniently in the bunker. Last time we saw that chair was in the loft, how it got to the Arrow cave and why?

I'm sure I'm not the only one wondering why Felicity was so cheerful in the Flashback (I choose to think that she was faking it, you know smiling on the outside and dying on the inside) 'Cause what the hell happened with Heavenrock guilt and all that?

Curtis turning lights on when there's daylight? I mean I get it if it had been AFTER realizing the elevator didn't work, but first? like.. why?

Oliver hitting his head (several times) during the fall and not getting a concussion. I know he's hard-headed, but Arrow writers downplayed his injuries as usual. Of course he had more than enough with the hole in his back, but still!

Post-sex talk doesn't explain Olicity attitude in 5x01

Oh! And somebody needs to tell me which lipstick brand Felicity uses, ‘cause after all that smooching and lovemaking, her lips were perfectly glossed (as the rest of her make-up)

Memorable lines:

"What's next for my favorite power couple?" --Curtis

"You know what he can't change? "What?" "That way he looks at you" --Curtis & Felicity

"My math is probably right, but what if it's wrong?" "Are you still Felicity Smoak?" "Yeah" "Your math is always right" --Felicity & Oliver (Oh gosh, he killed me with that!!)

"I believe in you" --Oliver to Felicity

"Hang on tight.... Not that tight. Not that tight" --Oliver (That made me laugh)

"It's not about not trusting you. I always trust you. I don't trust myself."  --Oliver.

"I've always appreciated you doing the salmon ladder but never as much as in this moment." --Felicity

"I'm not going anywhere." --Oliver

@felicity-said--yes // @emmaamelia95 // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @muslimsmoak // @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline // @wanderingmmries // @laurabelle2930  // @hope-for-olicity  // @nalla-madness // @vaelisamaza // @cris101071 // @oliverfel4 // @mel-loves-all // @imusuallyobsessed // @smkkbert // @almondblossomme // @djeniiscorner // @mtb1002 // @tdgal1 // @pjcmfalcon // @missafairy // @emarasmoak // @felicityollies​ // @marytagus​ // @lalawo1​ // @scu11y22 // @bitchwhwifi // @wherethereissmoak // @jaspertown // 

[cupidcatlyst]

Orginal short story : Dear Adam

   Dear Adam

After all these years I finally have the courage to confess to you my love. I bet you're wondering what is this in that old creaky overgrown place full of rats you call a home. Well I'm writing to tell you about everything i've done for you my dearest Adam after all those things they did to you but you don't have to worry, it's all over. let me tell you how, my beautiful kotyonok (kitten).

It started when when we were 8 and Ii joined the class and my hands were sweating while my legs were shaking, but then you locked eyes with me for just a second and i knew we were meant to be. Sadly you never really talked to me after that but I let it slide. When we reached high school we were paired together for our first group project. You were still as beautiful as ever, the way your cinnamon eyes sparkled at the joke i made about the maths teacher. you never really liked maths but that was okay, you always asked me to help you and of course I did. I loved you, we were so happy until they came along.

Derick, that homophobic shithead and school football player, who was jealous of how popular you were. Even though you played no sport, all the girls swooned over that soft silky dyed  neon blue hair. That made you look like you were a fluffy toy poodle. He would shove you into lockers, walls and the ground. nobody noticed except me.

Then the school slut, popular girl Octavia she wanted to add you to her reverse harem at the school. But every flirting attempt she did you ignored and when you rejected her she became enraged. She sent her mindless minions to find stuff about you. What she found was what ruined your home life: she found out you were gay.

So your parents and my poor excuse of future in laws heard  the rumours she spread around.The town is  small so it was spread around very quickly. luckily you're aunty let you stay with her in that disgusting,creaky, booze smelling place even though i offered you my home you refused, for you felt you were intruding, you really are so humble . Then last of all Misty, the one who beat you up after school. She hated you because her crush was enamoured with you when she confessed to him it wasn't very pretty but she took her anger out on you. I found out when we went swimming after school  there were bruises all over your body and that crossed the line. They all needed to be punished for the sins they committed towards you my kotyonok.

I started with Misty. I knew she was a coke head.I knew where she kept her pile. It wasn't that hard to find out when you know people on that side of town. So during school one day i pretended to be sick and I snuck out to where she kept her stash. That dumb bimbo kept it behind a loose brick by the rundown church next to her house so I took her disgusting drugs and poured potassium cyanide in with the cocaine. It looked kind of like cooking flour with the way the sun shone on it so i put it back in its hiding place and waited till she came . I must've fallen asleep waiting, cause i heard ruffling sounds in the grass and there she was walking to her stash. After awhile of her snorting that stuff she collapsed and i knew the poison took effect so i kicked her like she kicked you until her heart stopped beating. Her body covered in a shimmering sticky red liquid and foamy white substance coming out of her mouth. i enjoyed the view, she got what she deserved. now onto derrick.

I couldn't wait to play a game with Derrick, especially the game i had in plan. I knew he was dating some girl from year 10. .I found out that her parents were out of town that night. So i snuck into her house while they were in the shower and knocked her out. I tied her to a chair and choked her to death. I texted derrick pretending to be her saying i wanted some fun time and that the back door was open. So I waited till I saw the door open  and derrick walked in he had this toothy shark grin like a predator going after prey. As he walked up these creaky stairs i grabbed my baseball bat and knocked him out. I tied him up and made sure his restraints were ready. When he woke up,  his loved one head on a plate . That pathetic man started shaking and gagging. I grabbed a fork and put his slut’s eye on it and then force fed it to him. He should be glad he was eating her he was planning to do it anyway that evening.

After a while of forcing him to swallow it, he was coughing and gagging. It was disgusting, so i started yelling at him to keep it in while saying this was revenge for hurting you, my kotyonok. When i said your name his blue eyes widened while he begged for forgiveness saying that it was a joke. A joke he says. did he know how many times you were a shaking mess in my lap almost every week? My vision became white and i really don't recall much after  but awhile later I came back to my senses his head was kicked in and his eyes were a gooey pile on the floor while he was shimmering red so I deemed my work done. Two of those monsters who hurt you were dead now so  for the worst of the trio of who hurt you: Octavia.

Octavia, the whore who wanted you then hated you.I have always despised her. she thought you were hers doesn't she know you're mine. You were always mine ever since we were kids i claimed you, you're mine no one else's you're mine mine mine!!!

So I gave her the punishment i deemed best for that little witch. I grabbed my butcher tools from work and and pretended I wanted to sleep with her. She was pleased. I know i'm quite attractive so i pulled this off without a hitch. Later that night we went to her place. She started stripping, obviously excited for the supposed action we were going to do. As she was stripping I quickly injected her with a muscle relaxer she struggled a bit but after a while she went limp. She was still conscious for i noticed the way her eyes paced around the room as tears threatened to spill out. I felt giddy like there was moths fluttering in my chest because this was all for you.

I went over to my bag and saw the glint of silver,I picked the Cleaver as shiny droplets fell down her cheeks and went over too her. I grabbed her jaw and forced open her mouth and pulled out the tongue she used on so many horny boys. I swung my cleaver down on her tongue and her whole mouth and chin went to a shiny red. I forced her over so she wouldn't choke on her blood then I went to her breasts then slowly sliced them of. I heard the thump and squish sound that came after they there were fell  of. She was covered in red with her eyes bugging out in pain with this glazed over look of pleasure as well. That sick bitch was aroused i started seeing white again but i managed to calm down unlike my last kill. So I gripped my cleaver tight and plunged into her heart. She made this gurgling sound as liquid red poured out of her mouth then they stopped the slut was dead. I started to feel something wet go down my cheek and then more came. I relised it was over they would never hurt you again my kotyonok. Now don’t worry I love you and i know you love me we’ll never be separated again Adam.

Love Your secret admirer.

I started shaking. I couldn't believe it. they were dead, I just couldn't. Then i heard a creaking noise down my hall. aunty wouldn't be home till monday. That when i heard the sound of breathing right outside my door and then I saw him. “Kazimir,’’I whispered. it came out shaky. “Yes my kotyonok, it's me. now you can finally  say you love me.”He chuckled with a hint of his russian accent. My mind was racing my best friend did this all for me, The man I fantasised over did this for me.Then My vision went black but the last thing I heard was,” I Love You”.

[towhomever]

Long story short, my brother abused me throughout my childhood whenever my parents weren't home. Sexual, physical, emotional, really anything you can think of. Parents always hated me because they said I was unstable because I would self harm and fight back whenever they'd hit me (my parents are big on discipline- My mom once hit me every time my answer was wrong when I was learning multiplication. I now am scarred and sometimes hit myself whenever I fail an exam and I'm alone in my apartment. My dad also hits me for talking back. He once hit my face until the sides of my mouth bled because I talked back to him in the car.) My parents are scared of my now because the last time we almost had a physical confrontation I told them "Oh what? You wanna hit me? Do it, asshole. Fucking do it or do you want me to do it for you?" - to put into context: My dad is a lazy ass who retired at 30 and has my mom working and managing all the businesses and he has the audacity to not do the chores around the house because he is "a man." Fucked up, I know.

Outside the family, I'm a different person. I love my friends to death (I can sometimes get defensive and a little mean towards them too when we fight i.e. when I feel confronted by them or trapped in a corner I run and close myself off from them by muting them online or blocking them - only happened twice so far in my life with my close friends that I've had since grade school. I also always apologize first when it comes to that and make sure they're okay whenever after a fight) I love my boyfriend and he's seen most of my worst side, but I never treat him like that and now it's gotten a lot better than the beginning when I had trust issues and kept running from the relationship. I love him dearly and am hopeful that he might be my endgame (it's been apart 4 years now).

My sister is my only confidant and I love her dearly. I have never gotten mad at her like how I do with my parents or brother. I'm protective of her more than anyone else that I even decided that I'll teach her math so my mom wouldn't hit her anymore like how she used to hit me when we'd get the answer wrong. I fight back with my parents and learned where the lines are and when to react, what not to cross, and what to do when someone crosses it.

Focussing on the main topic here: We were at the dinner table and my dad suddenly reminded me to feed our dogs. He yelled at me because he wants them fed early in the day so we can keep them in their cages until they defecate there (because there's a drain in their cage - it's actually more of a room because it's a pretty big space and on the blueprints for the garage it's actually labelled as their room) and then release them so they're free to roam all over the driveway and garden. They're 3 german Shepherds so their shits are huge and hard to clean.

I told my dad that I had work earlier today (I'm a working student, and I part time for an ad agency at the moment) so I couldn't feed them. He then told me I have a lunch break, to which I said I want to rest and eat lunch then.

Side note: Usually the dogs do eat at night anyway- it's just that the gardener is on leave because of corona so lately my dad's been the one cleaning the driveway. It's his only chore. My mom does the dishes. My sister and I set and clear the table. I share with my mom with cooking, sweeping, and doing the laundry.

Back to the main story:

So my dad started yelling at me because he doesn't want to have to clean the driveway. I was so tired today and didn't want to eat with someone yelling at me so I asked my sister if she wanted my food, and I got up and went to my room. (To put context- I've been living in my parents house since COVID happened because classes are online. Had to give up my apartment by the University because all the food establishments closed down, the laundry place was gone, and the WiFi - so I couldn't attend my classes anymore). My dad then got mad at my sister for trying to defend me because she knew how exhausted I was from work. My dad then asked why she didn't do it and that we wouldn't be living if it weren't for them yada yada yada. So she hid in the bathroom and cried, while I was starving in my room because I wasn't able to eat lunch earlier today either.

My mom then told my sister that I'm unstable and act defensively when I'm proven wrong and that my sister should not defend me. My sister then goes upstairs tells me all of this and says she wishes they were dead. My sister is 15 by the way - and she can already tell how fucked up my parents are. My mom even said that I was a lost cause even in University compared to my brother. My brother dropped out twice and graduated after 9 years. He took the same introductory alegra 7 times before my parents begged the professor to pass him. While on my side: I shifted from industrial engineering to civil engineering and am on my graduating year (a year past the expected date of graduation because of the extra subjects I had to take after shifting degree programs).

When I told my parents about what my brother did to me (the sexual part that is. I've been telling them about the physical part for ages and my mom told me "boy play rough" even though my brother choked me wherein my feet were off the ground over a bowl of fucking cereal), my mom told me to comfort my brother because he thinks he's a monster (which he is) and that I should tell him he's not. My mom also told me "he just asked you for a blowjob." She believes my brother is a saint. My dad said he was sick but he eventually told me to go to therapy and not my brother.

This pandemic is really bringing back a bunch of issues I burried when I got an apartment by my University. I've been going back and forth with the question "should I kill them or myself?" But because I don't want to resort to going against my morale compás I always end up thinking of killing myself. I've tried to explain to them multiple times but it always gets nowhere if not worse, so what to do really- I've gotten so much better since before. I was incredibly happy with my boyfriend and my apartment, I haven't had suicidal thoughts in so long and they're coming back. Help?

P.S. I haven't told my sister about what my brother did because I want her to be 18 and adult so she doesn't do anything rash. I think she's traumatized enough because there was a time where I broke a glass over my forehead and so much blood gushed out and I was taken to the hospital. My dad told me to say it was an accident and not domestic violence, so I did. I held onto the hand of the person injecting me with the anti-tetanus shot, hoping he'd know but of course he didn't. He just tried to calm me down. I don't want to hurt her anymore. I'm trying to be stable for her. And really I'm living for her, because I want her to be happy more than anything. I want her to live a full life. I love her so damn much, I can't even explain why.

TL;DR: My mom thinks my physically and sexually abusive brother is a saint. My dad is abusive towards me and is a lazy ass piece of shit. Both my parents think I'M the problem. I don't know what to do.