#it’s bad for our environment if it doesn’t get cold as balls for a bit every winter

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I think someone put the brain of a mouse or maybe a squirrel inside my head at some point because all winter I was like “I crave nuts and seeds” and now that it’s getting warmer and brighter out my brain keeps going “it’s fruit time”

Like, modern transportation has made it possible to move many fruits all over the world (in theory) all the time! But the primal early plesiadapiform part of my brain is like “you must eat what is available this season”

[malkumtend]

Warmth - set in the ILYL universe (set between ch. 12 and ch. 13).

Art by @lonely-ghost-606

Windclan cats had been able to adapt to many things. Their legs, long and tight with muscle, gave them the strength and speed needed to chase rabbits and hares. They could fix their senses to the breeze that split through the grass, breathing in the wafts of prey that waited tree-lengths away. And their sleek, thin coats allowed them to rush through the moorlands, and not feel heat swell through layers of useless fur, even when the sun was hot and angry above Silverpelt.

Crowpaw was proud to say he had reaped the rewards of each of these benefits.

However, as his small, unprotected by fur, paws crunched through the blanket of snow, he really wished Windclan had discovered ways to fight the cold.

But they hadn’t. Often enough, they were warmed by their sheer raid movement on the moors, so rain hardly gave them a problem. And snow was a rarity among the clans themselves.

Here, in the mountain air, where the sky grew dark and the air descended into a bitter mist, where snow lined the rock like white, frozen moss, Crowpaw wasn’t so lucky.

His paw dug into the unbroken white once more, and the damp freeze clawed him once again. He winced as cold ran it’s tongue up his leg, then glared into the winter horizon, seeing the acres of snow they still had to navigate.

“Crowpaw?” Crowpaw hissed back a growl as he looked up at Brambleclaw. The Thunderclan tom had stopped, strong paws not even shivering as he waited in the snow. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stop to find some shelter?”

Every cat, all thick furred and stationary, looked back at the apprentice. They all shared the embarrassed look of pity.

Crowpaw’s ears burned, but even that offered no help to his shaking back. “I’m fine!” Crowpaw said, he had to grin his teeth so he didn’t stutter. “It’s not that cold!” The worst part was that was true. There was no snow falling, just a plethora of short, but cutting gusts of wind. It would undeniably get colder when the dusty afternoon sky began to darken. Crowpaw groaned. He didn’t even want to think about that.

“Sure.” Stormfur muttered.

Crowpaw tried not to hiss. I’d like to see how you do without all that fur, fish-breath!

Feathertail glared at her brother then faced Crowpaw worriedly. “Crowpaw, it really doesn’t matter. None of us would mind.”

“Feathertail’s right.” Tawnypelt agreed. “It’ll do you no good to push yourself, Crowpaw. It’s only going to get worse from here.” She mewed with a whip of her tail. “It’ll be better if you keep your strength.”

“I said I’m fine!” Crowpaw meowed, stamping his forepaw furiously. He cringed when he hit a fresh patch of snow. “I-I don’t need to rest! If you all do, that’s your problem. I’ll just carry on by myself!” With that, he began to storm past the cats, trying to use his anger to heat the chill biting his paws. It grew with every disbelieving or piteous look he was able to catch.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself!” Stormfur snapped, shaking his head as Crowpaw passed him with a quiet snarl.

Crowpaw was about to say something bitter, but most of his energy was saved for trying to keep himself warm. He sighed drearily, watching with a frown as his breath blew away in a vapor of steam.

He kept his head high, for some reason thinking that would help him conserve heat if he kept his head away from the snow. It wasn’t working. Crowpaw bit his lip in frustration, but he didn’t stop. He may have hated being half-frozen, but he hated being pitied more than anything. He’d rather sleep furless in icy water than be the reason the group stopped for a moment.

The Two-legs pillaging Winclan wouldn’t wait for him. He couldn’t either.

However, the constant, slithering powder of frost that made his back hurt was just as merciless.

Little by little, Crowpaw slowed down in his walk again. The cats he had proudly stormed ahead of began to pass him again, one by one, this time keeping their mouths shut. It was clear anything they said would just make it worse for their prickly accomplice.

Still, each one’s warm, fleecy coat of fur looked swollen with regret that that they couldn’t give him any help.

He heard Feathertail mew something soft to him, but by then Crowpaw’s ears were pounding with humiliation.

He could just imagine Mudclaw’s face. The abject disgust at how pathetic his apprentice had turned out to be. Look at you! Your father picks you to represent our great clan and you whither like a wet kit!

Crowpaw’s steps only slowed as the even colder voice persisted in his brain. No surprise, his decreasing pace only made the strength to continue even weaker. Every step now felt as heavy as pulling his body out of a pool of mud.

He growled quietly. Stupid snow. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t suited to this mouse-brained weather. A defeated sigh left him like a spirit. No. If he could truly call himself a Warrior, he should have just been able to grit his teeth and bare it. And even though he could bare it, he knew he was slowing them all down.

He was making Windclan look like a liability.

Crowpaw tried to not look like that hurt him as much as he did. He closed his eyes, gnashing his jaws. He just needed to carry on at this point. Sulking wouldn’t make him look any less of a complete rabbit-heart. He kept his eyes to the snow, determined to not remind himself of the contrast of his and his journeymates wills.

His ear perked however, when he heard snow crunch beside him. He just caught the ginger and white paws that bounded effortlessly in the snow until they were right beside him.

Crowpaw sighed, feeling his ears go hot. “What is it, Squirrelpaw?” He said curtly.

“What?” A snappy voice replied. “Can I not walk with you now?”

Crowpaw kept himself from getting angry. It wasn’t Squirrelpaw’s fault he was useless. “Don’t be mouse-brained.” He said. “What do you need?”

“I don’t need anything. I just wanted to talk to you.” Her voice shifted cheekily. “You should count yourself lucky.”

“Shouldn’t I just.” Crowpaw rolled his eyes. He caught her then. She looked remarkably unperturbed by her environment. She strode through the snow as if it was new-leaf grass. But maybe that was the benefits of having such a fluffy coat like she did. Crowpaw looked ahead. “Shouldn’t you try to catch up with the others?” They were at least half a tree-length ahead.

“Only if you feel like it.” Crowpaw frowned and Squirrelpaw had the sense to let her ears fold back guiltily. “Sorry. I know that Windclan aren’t really… suited for snow.” He could practically feel the burn of her eyes as they slid across his spiked, wimpy excuse of a coat.

Crowpaw felt the sudden need to jerk himself up. Looking so bad in front of his best friend was hardly a welcome thought. “I said it before; I’ll be okay.” He spoke. His tail swung forwards. “Don’t wait on me. Just carry on ahead.” The last thing he wanted to be was a burden.

“I’m not waiting on anyone. There’s no need to rush, after all.”

The very idea that she could rush in this made Crowpaw groan a little.

Squirrelpaw shrugged, pouncing ahead. “Cheer up. We’ll have to find some shelter soon. This mountain’s so big, there has to be thousands of places to sleep.”

Crowpaw scoffed. “Yeah, but since it’s so big how long will we have to walk until we find one of them.”

“It can’t be long now.”

So painfully optimistic. As the cold made his bones brittle, Crowpaw looked away. “Yeah. You keep thinking that.”

Squirrelpaw looked at him pointedly. Her eyes hadn’t lost their fire, if anything they looked even sharper. “Maybe it would help if you weren’t so moody. Would it really hurt you to think of something other than the worst of everything?”

Crowpaw’s tail flared. He couldn’t help but glare at his friend. “It’s easy for you to say, fuzz-ball!”

Squirrelpaw laughed mockingly, “Oh, that’s a new one. What? Jealous?” Her overwhelming coat seemed to shake with every spark of her words. She seemed to be more fur than cat!

Crowpaw flashed his teeth, “Not really. You should count yourself lucky. Without all that fur, you’d be smaller than a kit!”

“I’d still beat you in a fight, though!”

Crowpaw only scoffed again, turning away with a growl.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that!” Squirrelpaw said frustratedly. “You can’t get angry at me for this.”

“You’re the one acting like a mouse-brain.” Crowpaw said monotonously.

There was gawking sound. “How? All I said was that it wouldn’t kill you to stop looking so angry. It’s hardly going to help you is it?”

“Oh, and if I smile like an idiot, I’m – what – just going to get all warm, fuzzy feelings.” Crowpaw bit his tongue as his head tittered in a mocking grimace. “Get over yourself.”

“You first.” Squirrelpaw muttered with the edge of a hiss. “No need to get nasty.”

Crowpaw didn’t reply. Talking to her was too much effort.

Besides, maybe now she’d join up with the others instead of seeing him like this.

She didn’t. They continued to walk. And for some reason, even though she had to be in better shape than him, she matched his pace the whole time. Crowpaw scanned the path ahead and exhaled slowly. There was still no sign of shelter. At least he hadn’t lost sight of the others.

It didn’t take long for his side to quiver. His nose creasing, he looked and his frown softened when he saw the ginger pelt still whiskers from his own. He could swear he could feel a small heat radiating from the bright strands of fur.

As that heat lingered, the silence became more suffocating.

“Look.” A soft voice made Crowpaw crane his head. “If I said something to upset you, I’m sorry.” Crowpaw blinked in shock. “I didn’t mean to.” He heard Squirrelpaw spit bitterly. “But that doesn’t give you the right to be like this. It’s not my fault your coat’s so thin.” She muttered. “I can’t make it grow, you know. It’s not like I want you to be cold.”

He lost valuable energy doing so, but Crowpaw’s head shifted to his side.

Her lips were in a thin pout, and her eyes were downcast in a bad mood. But she didn’t slow or quicken her pace. She kept right by him. Occasionally she would tilt her gaze, but stopped when she felt she was being watched.

Neither spoke. The quiet made Crowpaw cold inside.

Crowpaw bit his lower lip, ignoring the sudden twist in his stomach. As the bitter silence persisted however, he sighed to himself. She was right. It wasn’t like she’d tried to provoke him. All she’d done was try to keep him company and be the over-zealous molly she always was. She hadn’t started anything. Or at least she hadn’t tried to.

Even if she didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut, she still was looking out for him. And even when snapped at she didn’t just leave him like he deserved. She accepted his moodiness. Maybe he needed to learn to accept her… quirks.

Besides, talking to her had made his mouth feel warm.

Crowpaw breathed, feeling the cold made him cough momentarily. When he’d stopped, he found Squirrelpaw looking at him with obvious concern. The tom’s face mellowed. “I know.” He said, looking forward, downcast. “I’m sorry too. I’m just sick of this cold.”

At his apology, Squirrelpaw’s ears twitched. Hesitantly, she faced him, the stiffness of her muzzle quivering just the slightest. She looked over his shivering frame again. She let out a soft breath. “If it’s bothering you that much, I can ask the others to stop.”

“We can’t do that.”

“But Crowpaw-”

“No.” Crowpaw affirmed. “I don’t want to slow anyone down.” He’d said it before he could take it back. He grunted at himself. He was so freezing, he didn’t even think about what he was saying.

“It isn’t slowing us down. They’d do the same no matter who it was.” Squirrelpaw said, her gaze warm.

Crowpaw let out a bitter laugh, “Maybe, but it wouldn’t happen to any of you.” He said tensely, using his shaking tail to point at his pelt.

Squirrelpaw’s jaw hung in sad recognition. She looked up at Crowpaw wordlessly, unable to offer a retort.

Crowpaw gave her a gentle nod. He knew she couldn’t counter that, no matter how much she wanted to. He resigned himself to carry on walking. If Squirrelpaw kept by him at this point, he counted himself lucky. He licked his chest a little to warm himself up, but bit on it softly as the organ began to freeze. He shook himself again; all he could do was keep moving.

He was just beginning to feel some kind of control over his stiffening tail again when he felt something knock into his side.

It wasn’t a hard push. Really it was just a pressing on his ribs. Crowpaw usually would have jumped away, but he stopped shot as he noticed the feeling the sudden presence gave. It felt softer than the moss that he used to line his nest, but it condensed the same kind of comforting, embracing warmth that he felt from his den. Without fully realising it, the frost that had made his ribs ache subsided to a blissful glow.

He turned to his side, and blinked stupidly when he saw what, or who, was the source of the heat.

Squirrelpaw wasn’t facing him, but her fur was pressed right into Crowpaw’s body. She walked, a little clumsily, next to him and, this close, Crowpaw felt just how woolly her coat truly was. It really did feel like she was made of fur. It slipped all over his side like a ray of sunlight. He really did feel his body begin to swell with her share of heat.

But the heat in his face was all his own. “S-Squirrelpaw?” He mewed incredulously.

“Hush.” Squirrelpaw said, her voice muffled for some reason. “If you’re going to be stubborn like this I might as well make sure you don’t hurt yourself doing it.”

“W-What?” Crowpaw felt something pound in the depths of Squirrelpaw’s side.

“Let’s just keep moving.” The Thunderclan apprentice mewed, “I can’t just let you freeze. Don’t worry, I’m sure I won’t need to do this for long. We can’t be far from shelter now.” There was a silent plead in the cavern of her tone. Crowpaw could feel her muscles tense. She was looking quickly at him, as if checking that he didn’t rip himself from her.

There were many reasons that he should: clan loyalty, personal embarrassment, how fast his heart was-

Crowpaw gulped, his eyes still on the smaller cat. He saw her swallow hard and noticed her stiff, vacant expression as she kept on walking. Crowpaw’s stomach churned.

She was embarrassed herself, but she worked through it for him.

Her head tipped back a little, and Crowpaw noticed the cute way that her nose twitched when she was nervous. Her fur still mingled with his, he could barely see his own coat wrapped inside the ginger fluff. Crowpaw’s tail swung from side to side. Did he really feel as calmly about this as he did? This… this wasn’t normal, was it? Even if they were friends, could they really…

Crowpaw took in a hot breath. He felt shaking at his side and looked down stunned. She wasn’t cold, was she? Why was she shivering like that? Was he that cold to touch? No. That was ridiculous. She hadn’t looked like that before. His body tingled with worry. His tail began to sway quickly, maybe it would be better if he started to rush ahea-

He blinked.

His fur quivered all over his body. This time with realisation.

He wasn’t freezing anymore.

How…How could that be? Was her fur actually that warm? He slowly looked down again, shocked by how seamless his neck felt now. There she was. Nestled against him, eyes burning with embarrassment, tail quivering behind her, her gait clumsy and stuttering.

She wasn’t cold though.

Crowpaw felt that much.

And if somehow she was, she hadn’t left him yet.

Crowpaw felt warmer.

Gently, he slipped his tail until it had intertwined itself with his friend’s. Squirrelpaw jerked, twisting her head up. Her lips trembled. “C-Crowpaw?”

Crowpaw was concerned that she’d pull away, so he offered her a small smile. “Sorry. I just thought I’d return the favour.” He pressed himself even closer to the soft pelt. Squirrelpaw let out a light squeak as Crowpaw’s tail embraced her own. His tail tingled as it cloaked itself in the brush of long fur. He winked at her. “Wouldn’t want you falling in the snow after all. I’d have to laugh at you.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t speak for a moment. Dumbfounded.

Then her tail began to squeeze his like a soft paw.

And her lips curved into a grin.

“Careful,” She warned, her eyes half-closing. “I’ve seen you trip before. I can make it happen again.”

Crowpaw snickered. “You do that, you’re coming down with me.”

“Great! That way I can hold you down. I’ve always wondered how you would look with white fur!”

“Touche!” Crowpaw chuckled.

Squirrelpaw beamed, ready to start again with another silver quip.

“Squirrelpaw?”

The ginger cat opened her eyes, her grin slackening as she saw the smile on Crowpaw’s face. “Hmm?” She questioned, raising a brow.

“Thanks.” Crowpaw said. Genuine.

He just about felt a beat inside Squirrelpaw’s chest again. But she cut it off with a laugh that could make icicles fall. “Who are you and what have you done with Crowpaw?” He joined in, laughing until he was out of breath. Squirrelpaw smiled, her head almost underneath his chin. Her tail curled blissfully over his. “Don’t mention it, Crowfood.” She said, the gentleness betraying the nickname.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Crowpaw quipped, chuckling as Squirrelpaw nudged him away with her side.

But their tail still stayed linked, so they easily found each other again.

…

Not many people seemed interested, but fuck it. If people hate it they can tell me in the comments. For those that are interested, I hope you liked it.

[intergalactic-padawan]

inquisitor - Ezra Bridger

Requested: yes, by the beautiful @raganbridger! Sorry for the wait, it's finally here!

Warnings: angst, dark side!reader, confusion, mentions of bad injuries/blood, betrayal

A/N: You asked for le angst, so here it is! I've had this idea for a long while and this request was the motivation I needed to start. LOTS of alternative endings were written, this was mostly the reason it took so long.

Pronouns of reader: she/her

*ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! I make mistakes just like everybody else 😉*

x

.

-"oh, good, you're awake"

You sit and inhale sharply, focusing back on the real world, startled at the strange voice.

Well, not so strange per se. You knew who was talking to you. What was strange was why he was talking to you.

Before you can adjust your vision to the unfamiliar environment, the memories from hours earlier instantly come flooding back.

Malachor. The place where jedi go to die.

An easy kill for you and your inquisitor colleagues.

That's what they had said on the ship, at least. You, on the other hand, knew better than to underestimate how slippery those jedi could be - especially if they fought side by side, like they always did.

You remember cornering the younger one during the fight. His skill was minimal compared to yours, which would give you an advantage against his master if he were to die first.

The boy and his friends go after the sith holocron. There had been a blinding light when it was placed at the altar.

And also, the jedi knight who was blinded by your former master, Maul.

Maul.

Not only had the cursed man left you for dead years before, he had come back from hiding to haunt you and join forces with your other enemies.

But you were an inquisitor. You wouldn't - you couldn't let him get the best of you, not this time.

You feel a light hand pressing your forehead and recoil in fear, reaching for your lightsaber, only to feel it was not there.

-"whoah, woah, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you" - it was the padawan you'd been fighting before - Ezra Bridger. He had placed you and his master inside a cave in a planet you were not familiar with when you'd escaped Malachor.

You'd escapd Malachor? But how?

You couldn't have, unless he'd carried you back to his ship.

-"hey, hey, it's alright."

-"what do you want, jedi?" - you wince in pain again.

-"a thank you would be nice, actually. I did just save your life"

-"a foolish mistake. One you will pay for with yours"

You reach out for your lightsaber, but can't feel it anywhere close. Scouring with the force for its presence, you quickly realize he must have hidden it outside the place.

-"Nope, absolutely not" - just as quickly, he slaps your outstreched hand - "I may be an idiot, but i'm not stupid. Your lightsaber's not here, it's caused enough damage already."

You rub the hand he pushed away, more shocked at his actions than anything. How DARE he?

-"Then what do you want from me, if not revenge? Why treat my wounds if not to finish the battle we started?"

-"Listen, I'm not sure if it's the adrnaline or something, but you're in no condition to fight anyone any time soon"

-"You underestimete me, Jedi. Even in these conditions you would be no match for me."

-"Like I wasn't a match for you at the sith temple?"

At the mention of the event, images of the fight start to come back.

Back at the sanctuary, you drew him away from the fight, knowing his strengh lied with his allies. Only, you hadn't imagined your former master to join his side - not until you'd seen the holocron in Ezra's hands, at least. You'd warned him: "he will use it and throw you away. Like he did to me". Needless to say, he didn't listen.

Your vision starts to lose focus at the intensity of your anger and you groan in pain, not able to sit anymore. Driven by instinct, the padawan holds your side so you won't fall completely, pressing your abdomen and making you hiss in pain.

-"ah, looks like I was right. You're conscious, but not healed" - you feel yourself be adjusted back on the ground, too weak to fight him.

-"where are we? Why did you save my life?"

He hesitates, eyes studying you, like you might attack him any second and he still knew it.

-"not so sure" - he finally answers - "maybe because now you owe me one?"

-"Did you hit your head or something?" You scoff - "Make no mistake, I WILL kill you when the opportunity rises!"

-"And that is why your lightsaber privileges have been revoked for now."

You lock eyes, studying him like he had you. It made no sense- you'd followed his group to the sith temple, tried to kill him several times, called for the man who had murdered his strongest ally, Ahsoak Tano. Why was he helping you?

With a shiver, you realize he's still holding your side, not as firmly as before but still providing support for your back. Inhaling sharply, you graze his hand and he lets go instantly, realizing how close the two of you had gotten.

Standing up just as quickly, he brushes a strand of unruly hair our of his forehead, while you you clean your throat, diverting your attention to the exit of the cave. The rain pours on the large trees outside, but you can't make out much except for the fact that you're in a forest planet (maybe a moon?) and his ship is in less than ideal conditions to get out of it.

-"here" - Ezra kneels down with two bacta patches and a piece of fabric from a medical kit -"i felt your back was pretty sore, but didn't want to take off your shirt while you were out. Your cuts need cleaning."

You hesitantly take the items, using the rocks behind you as support to lean your body on. He stands up, hands on hips, and chuckles when you sniff the gel, suspicious.

With the small bit of privacy he gives you by turning around to check on his master, you fumble with your shirt, deciding to take it off in order to see better.

-"Need some help over there?" - he asks, hearing you grunt in frustration at not being able to reach some spots

-"Not from you, thank you very much"

-"Oh, so she CAN say thank you! That's a welcome change"

You throw the rag at his direction, irritated out of your mind. Who does he think he is??

He must sense the harmless ball of soaked fabric coming his way, turning around to catch it mid-air. Now that he's turned, you see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your rage, giving you the answer you needed as to why he went through the trouble of saving you; it was merely to see you suffer and laugh at your expense, apparently.

His expression quickly changed when he saw your bruised torso, however.

- "who did this to you?" - he whispers, and you look down at you look down at your sore ~ well, everything~, covered only by a wrap in the bust area.

-"As you said, jedi. I may be better than you, but you still gave me a decent challenge"

"No. I didn't even hit you there." - his serious reaction to your injuries had caught you off guard, you had to admit. - "those are old and deep, you shouldn't even be able to walk!"

-"I'm not, remember?" - you motion at your debilitated situation, unable to even sit down or cross your legs properly -"But i will be, soon. And then it's over for you"

-"you know what? I think if you wanted to, you would have killed me by now." - he shoots back and you're impressed at his audacity once again.

But he had a point. Why hadn't you attacked him yet?

Sure, you had no lightsaber or phisical conditions to stand, but your force abilities were still as strong as ever. You were vulnerable, but so was he, and you weren't kidding when you said you could deal with him even at your worse.

-"you know what? " - you cross your arms. He was playing with fire now - "maybe I might"

-"and why haven't you?"

-"because I wouldn't enjoy it as much." - you snap back venomously - "I want to see you suffer before I bring you to Lord Vader"

His expression darkens at the mention of Ahsoka's murderer. His whole body stiffens as he balls his wrists and clearly struggles to control his anger at the recent loss. For a moment, you fear you've gone too far, but reprimand yourself for worrying about his feelings over yours. You're not supposed to be anything more than indifferent to the weak and ruthless to those who dare oppose you.

-"Yeah, no matter what you do, you're still imperial scum"

You're not prepared for those words to affect you so much. You're supposed to have a response, but nothing coherent seems to come out of your mouth, so you settle for an an uncomfortable silence.

It doesn't last for long, however, as his comlink goes off. It's his droid, asking - no, demanding - that he go help him with repairs on the ship. He hesitates, looking at you and contemplating how bad it would be to leave you unnatended in the company of his defenseless master.

-"Dont worry."- You reassure him. -"I won't make his situation worse. Maul is the worse you can get, and I refuse to step that low"

You can see he doesnt like it, but leaves for a few moments before returning with what must be the droid that talked to him before. It was a C1 series unit with an orange top and a bratty atitude, you could tell that much by just seeing him interact with the jedi.

-"Chopper will stay here, just in case"

-"I understand. It's fine."

-"I wasn't asking if you were fine with it. Behave" - you can't be sure if his command is directed at you or the droid, but you weren't about to ask.

The coldness he now had to his voice was understandable - you had worked to get him to that emotional state - ,but you felt hurt at the change. The droid didn't do much to help you think clearly about what just happened, and by the look of it, your frustration would only grow bigger in the many hours it would still take to repair the ship to a normal flying condition.

'He thinks i'm imperial scum, huh?' - you think as you scour a pile of your belongings with the force, not too far away inside the cave.

Bad news, your lightsaber really wasn't there.

Good news, your wrist comm was.

'i'll show him imperial scum'

With a plan forming in mind, all you had to do now was be patient and wait for the right time. There's no exchange of words between the two of you when he gets back, which makes time fly by before he's betrayed by exaution and finally gives in to sleep. You take care of the droid easily after that.

Activating the tracking beacon, you start to leave the cave, but not before noticing the boy's lightsaber beside him. It was a bold move, he could easily wake up if you took it, but you knew that if he woke up to see you gone you'd need it to compensate for your injuries.

You were still on opposing sides, after all.

You knew there had to be an imperial ship near the planet, and they would pick up your signal in an instant when you called. Wallking to a less dense area of the forest, away from the crash site, you're proven right when, in a matter of minutes, a shuttle tripulated by four troopers and a senior lieutenant meet you on the ground.

-"and what of the jedi?" - the higher ranking woman asks when you finish your brief description of the events that led you there.

Well, not all events. You'd left out the part where Bridger had helped you recover.

You could just tell them to take the two jedi for excecution. You were supposed to do it, in fact.

-"it's just me. And the younger one's lightsaber" - you finally answer, not exactly knowing why you'd deliberately just saved them.

She nods curtly and escorts you back to the ship without a second glance. It was a good story so far, but you would have to work on it if your superiors were to believe it.

-"Wait- " - you start, second-guessing your motives for not giving away their location. One of the troopers turns to you expectantly.

-"yes, sir?"

You hesitate for a moment, ready to do what you'd beeen taught to do your whle life. Kill the jedi.

Kill the jedi.

A tingling crept up your sides, where the padawan had touched earlier to give you support. You try to betray the gut feeling pressing you to do your duty as an inquisitor, but it's stronger than you. Something is forcing your better judgement to be leaving your natural enemies alive.

-"nothing." - the tingle goes away as soon as it had come, leaving an unusual feeling of relief. - "Thought i'd sensed something. Let's leave"

'Perhaps it's for the best'. - you think as the shuttle's door closes. After all, you did owe him one for saving your life - whatever his reason was for doing so.

That was what you told yourself as you boarded the ship, at least. Now, the next time you saw him, there would be nothing to stop you from finishing him and his friends for good.

.

x

Hope you like it? I gave him a 'hands on hips' moment in honour of your videos for a more personalized touch hahahaha

[thefanficmonster]

New Life

Ethan Winters x Mia Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 7 and RE8:Village, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Comfort

Summary: Following the hellish events that took place in Louisiana, the BSAA finds the Winterses a new home far from where the horrible memories dwell - Romania. How will the couple adjust to the sudden shift from the warm heart of Texas to the snowy mountains of Romania?

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for being my first and so far only Mithan requester! I love there two and I really wish they’ll be given the happy ending they deserve in a future game. If not, I make it my own duty to give them that happy ending they deserve! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

“This is it?“ Mia looks out of the window of the BSAA issued terrain truck that’s pulled up to a stop outside a modest but absolutely beautiful house of two stories, surrounded by a rather large garden that is currently covered with a thick layer of pearly white snow that’s twinkling under the faint sunrays that manage to squeeze past the tightly knitted grey clouds inhibiting the sky.

Ethan and Mia have been bracing themselves for the shift of surroundings ever since Chris dropped by their home in Texas to inform them of the decision of the BSAA to move them to a whole new continent, a whole new environment with a completely different climate. However, no amount of bracing could’ve prepared them for this mesmerizing wonderland of a town they have now found themselves in.

Ethan, having traveled around quite a bit in his life and having lived in several states, he’s experienced snow - maybe not like this, but he’s been prepared enough. Mia, however, having lived in Texas all her life and never running into snow on her travels, she’s significantly less prepared. The Texas snow could do nothing to brace her for this winter wonderland. That is exactly why she’s been glued to the window ever since she seated herself in the backseat of the truck, observing the snow-covered streets and yards with child-like amazement.

Seeing his wife so happy made him swoon over her all over again just like the first time he realized he was in love with her. Ethan had never before met nor will he ever meet a person like her. He knows damn well he would’ve carried on after Louisiana with a huge chunk of his soul missing had Mia not carried enough positivity for the both of them even since they were escorted from that hellhole. She was the one who truly started looking forward the moment they were offered the chance to start over, unlike him who constantly went back and keeps going back to that night in his mind and his worst nightmares. It hasn’t been easy for her either: she’s spent nights battling insomnia and nightmares because of those hellish memories but she’s never let it show during the day. She held her head high and refused to let the past cripple her.

Having a role-model and pillar like her beside him, he grew past it for the most part as well.

She proves to him yet again how strong and amazing she is right in this very moment - she appreciates life like no one else can. She still sees the beauty in it, more so than before even. She looks upon the world with a newfound fondness and admiration without a single shadow to cloud it. 

And if he only knew what she knows....

“Yeah, that’s it. Hope we didn’t mess up the pick.“ Chris chuckles from the driver’s seat as he puts the truck in park, unfastening his seatbelt.

“Are you kidding me?“ Mia is quick to unfasten her own, “It’s perfect!” Within a second, she’s out of the car much to the surprise of her husband and Chris who quickly calls out to her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you! You’re significantly underdressed for this weather.” Seeing as how his warning falls upon deaf ears, he turns to Ethan instead, his facial expression growing more serious now, “I never got around to asking but...how have you been holding up?” He looks back through the backseat windows to see Mia already grabbing handfuls of snow, clearly unbothered by the negatives in temperature. “Mia seems to be holding up well.“

Ethan follows his friend’s gaze and smiles at the sight of his grinning from ear to ear over something as simple as a knee high layer of snow that she’s now standing in. “She was holding up for the both of us for the first month after we were back. But I’m ok now too, thanks to her.”

“I’m glad.” Chris replies, nodding firmly before he takes hold of the car’s door handle, pushing it open and stepping outside into the cold he warned Mia about. Though he’s significantly better braced clothing wise, he still shudders when the breeze hits him.

Ethan does the same, stepping out and finding himself knee-deep in snow right away. And if that weren’t enough, he gets a snowball to the shoulder out of the blue right as he shuts the car door.  He doesn’t even need to look up to see who threw it, the delighted laughter gives away the culprit right away, stealing an amused smile from Ethan. A smile that turns into a laugh when he sees another snowball shoot through the air, this time not heading for him but for Chris instead.

As a trained BSAA soldier, one couldn’t expect anything less of him than catching that ball mid-air which is exactly what he did mere seconds before throwing it at Ethan, hitting him directly between his shoulder blades.

“Seems to me you two will like it here quite nicely.“ The soldier comments as Ethan shivers and gives him a glare over the front bumper of the truck.

“We sure will!“ Mia answers, approaching the vehicle and coming to stand next to her husband, now lacking snowy ammunition. “Thank you again, Chris. You’ve helped us through so much, we’ll forever be in your debt.“

Ethan nods firmly, supporting her statement, figuring there’s nothing left for him to say, sensing the inevitable departure of his friend and partner approaching. He’d try and stop him, invite him inside ever if he didn’t know him better than that. If he didn’t know his job any better.

“How about not complaining whenever I drop by unannounced for dinner? You can repay me that way.“ He offers with a friendly smile which is more than most people ever get out of him.

The couple smiles at him. “Sure thing.” Ethan replies, “Anytime.”

He’s always been bad at departures and goodbyes. He’s always been afraid of that being the final goodbye or final departure. The last time he sees the person or people he’s leaving behind. It scares the hell out of him, to say the least.

“Need to get back to HQ before someone messes something up.“ He trails off, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “But I’ll hold you two to your word.“

“See you soon, Redfield.“

With that, the terrain truck continues down the road, taking the first left turn before disappearing in the light fog that has fallen upon the streets suggesting that even lower temperatures are approaching.

“Let’s get you inside before you freeze, shall we?“ Mia’s voice breaks Ethan free from the clutches of the sudden melancholy that has taken over him accompanied by an unwelcome rush of memories from Louisiana and all those years he thought Mia was dead. Feeling her surprisingly warm hands on his arm, he feels himself slowly pulled away from those dark times and being returned to the present where they are safe and together. Where they’re free from any mold or virus. Where they only to worry about not catching a cold.

“Luck me, I have a wife unfazed by hypothermia.“ He wraps his arm around her as they walk down the path in front of the house the BSAA staff had cleared when moving their stuff inside.

Finding the key to the front door on the windowsill, they both feel the sudden shift inside them as though this is the real deal. The snowy mountains and foreign sights weren’t the real change. This is it. Opening this door and walking into this new and unfamiliar house that’s now theirs - that’s their new start. A start of maybe something more than they had ever imagined before - a family, perhaps.

The click of the front door being locked by Ethan once they’re inside grounds them both to the new reality that will be their life from now on. They don’t rush to take it all in, instead let it all sink in gradually, bit by bit. First the sight of the unfamiliar layout they will have to grow used to; then the smell of new furniture and freshly applied wallpaper; and lastly the atmosphere - so new and unfamiliar yet so welcoming.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?“ Mia whispers, finally putting an end to the silence they let fall upon them, “This is ours now. And it’s so...clean. Nothing in it reminds of out old lives.“

“Yeah...“ he mutters, subconsciously pulling his wife closer by his side, “It’s solely ours, we don’t have to share it with any unwanted memories.“

She turns in his embrace, placing her hands on his chest as their eyes meet, “True. We can now make new ones. Good ones, uninterrupted by all that old junk. What do you say?”

Nothing much to say, really. He doesn’t have to say anything for her to read his mind - read him. That’s exactly why, instead of answering verbally, he plants his lips on top of hers, making the first good memory in this new house, this new and improved life of theirs.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Dealing with Intruders.”

So sorry this came out so late today. I was at work and things got busy. I wanted it to be a bit longer, but decided this was a good enough stopping point. I hope you all enjoy

Yeb took a step back.

“I said run, and DIE!” The small, Fuzzy creature said, its ear twitching spastically over its brightly colored fur.

She froze in place, she didn’t know what this creature was, she had never seen it through all of her spying on the ship. It was small though, so there was more than a distinct possibility that she just hadn’t seen it. Either way that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t know anything about it. It could be poisonous, or venomous, or have some other strange ability that she didn’t know about.

“Who are you!” it demanded.

She held up her hands, “Yeb…. my name is Yeb, please don’t hurt me I’m sorry I snuck aboard your ship…. I… I panicked.”

“A stowaway then, from the ice planet.”

She nodded quickly, “Please, I mean you no harm, I just…. I just made a dumb mistake is all.”

“I feel that the Admiral will be very interested to learn about this.”

She felt her fur stand on end thinking of the genial alien captain and how he would react to the sudden appearance of her on his ship, a stowaway. What might he think about her betraying his trust like that, what would he seem like when driven to anger?

“Come with me.” The little fuzzball ordered, turned and began waddling away, “Try to escape and I break your kneecaps.”

Yeb followed behind silently. She didn’t see how the small creature would even reach her kneecaps, but she certainly didn’t want to challenge it. If it was THAT confident it could hurt her, then she had no desire to figure out why.

They stepped into the hallway, her following, keeping mostly to the maintenance tunnels, gone unused by most of the crew. At a certain point she started to hear low murmured voices rising up in some agitation over the thrumming sound of the ship’s distant engines. They came out of the maintenance corridor, and the sound around them rose higher.

It was still agitated, but hushed, and as she walked into the room she was greeted with a very odd…. And an almost disturbing scene.

There was a ring in the center of the floor, surrounded by seats. Inside the ring, little drops of red made a smattering over the floor. The humans sat around in agitated silence looking between each other and the occasional Drev.

Sitting just outside the circle was the human leader…. looking …. More the worse for wear.

He had a small crowd gathered around him,and that strange red liquid was leaking down the side of his face and onto his shirt. Just to the side, the small Blue Drev was standing looking concerned.

As Yeb got closer, she noticed to her horror that the human’s leg was missing! She froze in place and the entire group of whispering humans looked up as she stopped. Concern turned to confusion turned to shock.

The human leader lifted his head, which was discolored and leaking fluid but paused as well, “You!”

“She shrunk back.”

“I found this stowaway hiding in the maintenance tunnels.” The fluff ball announced to the whole room.

The human opened his mouth, closed it, tilted his head and then sighed.

“Will you give us just a moment.” His voice was calm and restrained, almost, tired.

He turned to look over at The blue Drev and a smaller group of humans clustered around just to the side.

“Any joy?”

“It doesn’t look too bad sir, most of the main components are intact as expected, it is just a faulty joining pin.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Unfortunately….not with what we have here. But it should be easy enough to order At Europa.”

He sighed, “Sit, well, it’ll have to do.” He turned to look at one of the other humans, she knew to be named Ramirez, “Head to my room, look in the closet, and in the back corner, you will find those crutches that go around your wrists.”

The man nodded, “Yeah, for sue.” He jogged off and the human leader, Adam, turned to face her.

Slow red was still oozing from the side of his face still as the little spidery alien creature attempted to stop it.

“Yeb, I can’t say I expected to see you here.”

“I...I am so sorry… I have no idea what I was thinking. I saw the box, and it was open, and i just sort of… jumped in, I have no idea why I did that, and then I was worried that you were going to be mad, so I…. So I hid and…. and .” 

It was getting very hot all of a sudden, and she was beginning to pant.

“Wow, slow your roll there for a moment.” He held up his hands.

She stared at him, teetering on the edge of concern and fear.

“That….. Sounds like exactly something I would have done.” He smiled at her with his pearly white teeth, “Welcome aboard the Omen. I wish you would have told me sooner as this is hardly a hospitable environment for you. Where have you been hiding.”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, “The…. walk-in freezer?”

He barked a laugh, “Ingenious.” 

He held a pad of white to the side of his head and went to stand but stopped suddenly apparently seeming surprised that he was missing a leg. He huffed, “Will someone help me up.” He turned to look at the small doctor frowning and arms crossed over its bug-like chest, “Yes, we will discuss my idiocy later, but right now, we need to figure out how to keep our friend comfortable.”

The little doctor gave her a good once-over, “Does your fur grow back?”

She paused, frowned and then nodded slowly, “Yes it does.”

“Even the under layer?”

“yes , it would.”

The humans glanced between each other, and Adam held up a hand, “Now, this is not out of offence to you, so Don’t take it that way, but….. It might be cooler and more bearable if…. Perhaps you had less fur…. As in shaving it.”

She paused in thought, “I….I have never thought about it….I suppose…. It can’t hurt, if it would make the heat more bearable.”

“Alright, than that is something we can do. Your other options to wear a cooling vest,but those are heavy and would require battery changes and charging. Granted the other way would not be permanent either, but it might last longer.”

She paused to think about it, then, “Will you let me stay here.”

“I was going to let you stay here no matter what you chose to do, so it's your call.”

Just then Ramirez came jogging into the room holding a pair of metal sticks with strange loops at the end, which he handed over to Adam.

The human threaded his wrists through the loops, and levered himself up onto his one remaining leg with his weight supported on the metal sticks. Yeb tried to keep from staring, but fascination outweighed her propriety.

“Krill, take Yeb to the infirmary, and see if you can’t figure out how to safely remove some of her fur. I mean sheep shears would probably be best, but it's not like I have any of those lying around the ship.”

“And you?”

“I will be right along.”

The little spidery alien moved to the side of her and guided her away from the room. She glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see the Blue Drev and the human duck their heads in fervent conversation, her keen hearing managed to pick up some of what was being said, “Adam, I am so sorry I…”

“I asked r it, its ok.”

“No its-”

“Yes it is, now please don’t worry about it, and if you really are, just fix my leg when we get back to Europa.”

She saw the human touch the Drev’s Arm for just a moment before he limped away on his crutches, following after them up the hall.

Again she tried not to stare.

He was fast on those things, and surprisingly mobile, but her eyes kept being drawn to his missing leg, amputated at center thigh. She had seen wounds like that before, mostly after someone got to close to an ice beast or a crevice lurker. They had never lasted long dying from cold and shock a few hours after the incident.

What kind of…. Ungodly power would keep someone alive after trauma like that….

Her thoughts were cut off as she was pulled into the bright hite room next to the freezer. She was sat down and examined by the small studious doctor, who still seemed too grouchy to be particularly talkative. After a while two of the marines came trotting into the room each holding a box.

“This is all we could find, a couple of razors from the crew quarters.”

The one named Maverick eyed her, “I doubt they will be very usable after this.”

Ramirez nodded, “I’d tend to agree.”

Adam limped up behind them, “Might as well try.” he looked down at Yeb with a smile, “Want to do it yourself, or have some help.”

“Er…. help?”

Ramirez clicked on the Razor, “Hey, do you want a mohawk?” 

She blinked, “A what.”

“We could do it all the way down your back, have the hair longer there, it would look badass.”

Yeb thought he was joking for a moment but seeing the look on Adam’s face she had a feeling he wasn’t. She wondered, they seemed excited and almost hopeful she’d say yes…. She didn’t see the harm in it,and  she didn’t know what badass meant but it sounded fun. So she hesitantly nodded.

“Fuck yeah.”

She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted “These two humans, but what else was she to do?

The going was very, very slow, and the strange machines were very, very loud, she watched as her hair fell to the floor in great chunks, and was surprised when a cool breeze rushed over her neck.

It took them over an hour, and by the time they were done the floor was covered in hair, and she was marginally more comfortable. It felt so weird, and when they turned a mirror towards her she was shocked.

She was so…

Small.

She turned her head looking down at the scruff of hair left on her back which she was delighted to find made her look more vicious, the effect would be even more prominent when her fur stood up on end.

“See, badass.”

The little doctor crossed his arms again, “Don’t you think, Admiral that this might cause some diplomatic issues with the Tricar if they were to know she is here?”

“Than I guess we better not let anyone know she is here, and look at her, a horrible accident caused her to lose her fur and now she wouldn’t last a day back home, we are simply being generous hosts.” he patted her back then paused, “I have another potentially inappropriate question, so please don’t be offended.”

She looked up at him her head tilted and her ears pulled back.

“What?”

“Can I please…. Touch your fur, you look very fluffy, and humans love to pet things. Its sort of a thing about us?”

She shrugged and didn’t see the harm in it.

He grinned at her rather happy and adjusted himself to balance on one crutch, hooking his hand out of the other as he reached over and ran a hand from the top of her head and w nto her shoulders.

“So fluffy!”

She laid her ears back, That was actually kind of nice, and when he stopped she was only mildly disappointed. She’d have to convince someone else to touch her fur, which she doubted would be hard.

“Anyway, I have to take care of a head wound, but Ramirez and Maverick, why don’t you take Yeb around the ship, and give her the full tour, you know without the sneaking around and being forced to hide in the walk in freezer.”

They nodded and laughed somewhat.

“Try to keep her out of trouble will you. Oh…. and if you see Sunny…. Can you send her up here?”

His voice had grown somewhat hesitant, a minute change in pitch which she detected with her large ears.

She wondered what was going on, but let it go as the humans took her by the shoulder and led her away.

They seemed excited to have heron the ship, and their excitement made her excited. She was more than ready to learn and spend time with this strange alien species. And to try more of their food, which was about ten times better than the bland over-salted fish on her planet.

Hopefully she would be able to repay them somehow.

[teaboot]

Hey I just wanted to ask you something I don't know if its personal so maybe I'll start with me, my psychiatrist told me that I have asperger's syndrome and like my mom keeps asking me like what does that means because I think she sees people with autism as stupid and I'm at the top of my class so she feels like it's a mistake, I personally go mute for months sometimes except for like oral tests, and idk I forget about having a body and so I hit onto walls when I'm focused on something but *

"...*is not so exaggerated like I'm pretty functional I just forget that there are walls and doors and that I can't just transport me to the other room or so,I mean I feel like I'm just trying to find what my "weird or autistic" traits are to justify the diagnosis,I didn't asked my psychiatrist to elaborate on that and so I was wondering, what would you say that your autistic traits are?Also just in case,I know that autistic people can be hella smart and I think that you are really wise I admire you"

Thank you so much, that's very sweet of you to say!

Honestly, I'm sort of in a similar situation- My parents' reaction was to say, "you're too smart to be autistic" or, "Everyone of ~your intelligence~ is a little weird in the head, anyways", and then. Expect me to live up to all the positive stereotypes without ever getting bogged down by the negative realities?

This might not be very helpful at all of me to say, but as an adult who grew up in a rather unpleasant environment, there really isn't much help for a number of things except getting old and independant enough to move out, and then just accepting that their perception of reality isn't open to negotiation. You can try debating it, or meeting them on common ground with scientific basis, but in my case....

....well. There's just some things I now know not to talk about at family gatherings.

I'm sorry, I know that's probably not very helpful or heartening to hear. 

As for my personal grab bag of symptoms? I tend to hyperfocus on personal projects. When I'm really invested in an art piece, I often forget to eat or sleep or drink, and the only way I've learned to snap out of that is that if my hands are shaking or I'm falling over a lot, I probably need to eat something and lay down for a while, because otherwise- and yeah, not the healthiest motivator- otherwise I might start fucking up my hard work.

I also get overwhelmed by overlapping noises- if two people are talking at once, even if one is on a radio or TV show, I can't hear either of them and it stresses the shit out of me. White noise, like in malls or assemblies, also tends to burn my energy pretty fast.

Things like leaf blowers, people whistling indoors, and emergency sirens are physically painful. Repetitive noises like a bouncing rubber ball, sniffling, dogs licking things, and low-frequency vibrations from massage chairs, earthquakes, distant bass music, and some fluorescent lighting systems are impossible to ignore, which ranges from irritating to distressing, depending on my headspace du jour.

I hate bland food with a passion. It tends to make me nauseaus. I like lots of spice, lots of sugar, lots of sour and hot and acidic. I love strong flavours, and if I'm cooking for friends and family I often have to remind myself to tone down the seasonings for them.

Some textures make me genuinely ill, too- most types of meat, fat, and other animal bits result in.... Bad times for all. Polyester towels suck ass. Microfiber cloth. Thick cotton knit material. Any fabric covering my forearms. Thin, elastic denim. Vinyl. Polar fleece.

On the flip side, I looooove woven cotton blankets. Cotton sheets, cotton bedding- cold, heavy duvets are good, too. Acrylic, so long as it doesn't get damp. I have.... Perhaps a little bit of a problem here, as I do... Maybe, possibly, get a little impulsive with buying rugs, throws, and blankets when I come across one that feels right.

All my cups and bowls are handmade out of clay. I'm OK with smooth ceramics, but stoneware feels happy in my hands. I think of it as a treat, like packing a bit of chocolate with my lunch, or eating a whole bag of popcorn by myself. Again, I.... May go a little overboard when I come across A nice-feeling piece of dishware.

Basically, from what I understand, a lot of folks on the spectrum are under and over stimulated by various sensory inputs.

Me, I gravitate towards taste, inertia, tactile sensation, temperature, and dark lighting, while I find myself avoiding, limiting, or minimizing sound, light, color, oral texture, and smell.

As for more stereotyped behaviors, I find organizing things such as legal documents, filing cabinets, paint swatches, hardware, coins, stones, or colors to be very soothing and almost meditative. I go through special interests fairly often, and have been 'into' things like animals, insects, natural history, and art since before I could walk. I can't explain why they're such alluring subjects, they just make me happy.

I didn't realize until recently that I do stim, as well- I rock, sway, growl, swish water around, hang upside-down, rotate my thumbs, rub fabric, twirl coins, and flex my hands. I also (rarely) seem compelled to jump up and down in circles very fast when I'm particularly excited, or flap my arms against my sides like a penguin.

When I'm overstimulated, I go.... I'm not sure if you could call it 'nonverbal'. I get the feeling I COULD speak, it's just.... Overwhelmingly difficult. Usually I find a dark space or a corner away from people, put a coat or something over my head, cover my ears, close my eyes... Sometimes deliberate eye contact is hard, or I can't say more than one or two words at a time, or I find myself relying more on a hum or a grunt to communicate that I'm listening.

It... Probably all sounds weird to a neurotypical who may be reading, but I'm perfectly happy with myself as I am. I wouldn't change it if I could, except perhaps to minimize some of the more irritating things.

Mostly, my biggest peeve is being treated like a cool new pet or accessory. "Oh, this is my person with Autism- they're great at cleaning, you should get one!"- yeah, that can fuck right off. I'm right here, I can hear you, I'm a person. A little respect goes a long way.

But, whoops, here I've gone on a ramble- you want the best advice I have, though? Become comfortable with the person you are. Accept and seek out what things bring you happiness. Don't get hung up on the negatives. Love your experience, if you can, and don't worry about validating anything- you are who you are, and the words we use to explain ourselves fall so, so short when faced with the complexity of our individual existence.

The way I see it, the day before your diagnosis is the same as today, you just have one more tool to understand yourself with. The decision of how and if you choose to explain this to those around you is entirely yours to decide! 

I know this kind of went off the rail of your question. My answers are a little limited. I hope I could help anyways! Good luck!!

[ghostly-cabbage]

Frigid (Chapter 5)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends (to maybe more??? ohoho) 

Chapter Rating: T (Language, Canon Typical Violence, Brief Mention of Underage Drug Use) 

Word Count: 6,554

AO3 FFN

<<Previous | Next>>

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The black and white dashed pavement was all Wes saw. It moved underneath his clumsy feet in slow motion. 

Someone was holding his hand; he could feel the heat of their palm enveloping his. His hand was small in theirs. His shoulders were heavy, weighed down by a backpack. 

He wrung the padded red strap with his free hand. The person leading him tugged him along after them, insistent, but not unkind. When he looked up, he couldn’t see who it was. The sun was too bright, glinting in his eyes and allowing nothing but the dark impression of a silhouette. 

He had to get home, Wes remembered faintly. They had to get home or they’d be in trouble. An odd feeling crept up his legs, and he stumbled over an untied shoelace. The person with him made sure he didn’t fall, pulling up on his arm. 

“Silly Wesley, I thought you said you knew how to tie your shoes?” The person said. Their voice sounded muffled, like he was underwater. It sounded… familiar. Somehow. Like Wes should recognize it. 

They kept walking across the street, the far side growing no closer.

Wes swallowed, his throat dry. 

“Something’s wrong,” he said. His tongue felt clumsy in his mouth. He tried to look up at the person guiding him. They weren’t looking at him, and the sun drove his gaze away again. He looked back at the road, then over his shoulder where the blurry shape of school became more distant with every step.

 “Please listen to me this time, something isn’t right,” he tried again. His voice was small in his throat. His chaperone ignored him, or maybe they just couldn’t hear him. 

Cold panic seeped into him and he tried to resist against the person guiding him. He dug his heels into the rough hot pavement. He twisted and pulled at his hand, gripping the person's wrist in hopes he could slow them down. 

“It’s okay, Wessie! Your friends will be there when you come back,” came the voice, happy and completely oblivious. “I know it’s sad, but you’ll see your friends again, you’ll see.” 

“No,” he protested, the fear condensing into a lump in his throat. “No, we can’t keep going.” He didn’t know why. He just knew they had to stop. 

They had to stop before it happened. 

It ached deep in his bones, the dread and the sirens. His vision swirled and he blinked furiously against the tears. 

“Please,” he pleaded. “Please, stop, you have to.” He yanked on them, but they showed no sign of being inconvenienced. A wail rose in his throat. 

Why were they not listening?

“Maybe your Mom will let us have some fruit snacks when we get there, how’s that sound?” 

And then it was too late. 

His guardian gasped, and yanked him back. It sent a painful jolt through his arm. He stumbled backwards and hit the ground so hard it rattled his brain. 

The sound he could never push from his memories filled the world. The squeal of tires and a wet crunch. A squeal: high pitched and girlish. The solid thunk and crack of a body hitting the pavement, skidding and rolling and breaking and—

Wes sat bolt upright, strangling back a scream. 

Panic tingled over his skin and he clutched at his chest, fingers curling into the cotton of his nightshirt. His breath came in rapid gulps and his eyes darted around his room. Like he was expecting to see— 

He screwed his eyes shut and bit into his bottom lip until he tasted blood. God… He hadn’t had one that bad— that vivid in a long time. He focused on the beat of his heart for several long seconds, forcing his breathing to slow. 

God. He hated nightmares. 

He opened his eyes, taking in the dimly illuminated shapes of his dresser, desk and footboard. His curtains were drawn, and the weak light of morning tried in vain to worm it’s way into the room from behind the fabric. 

Wes reached for his phone on his bedside table. He unplugged it from the charger and winced against the light of the screen, 6:31 a.m. Friday. 

They’d had the last two days off from school due to damages to the plumbing system, but apparently it was all fixed up because school hadn’t been cancelled today. 

After that, going back to sleep was a lost cause. 

He shook his head and peeled his covers back. Might as well get an early start on getting ready for school. With a yawn he opened his door and glanced down the hall. 

Kyle’s door wasn’t open yet, which wasn’t surprising. Kyle was late most mornings; he liked sleeping in about as much as he liked weed… he slept in so much because of the weed more specifically. 

The house was chilly and quiet. 

That was until Wes heard footsteps and the sounds of drawers opening and closing in the kitchen. 

His right hand slid along the guide rail, the polished wood still smelling of lemon. Reaching the bottom of the stairs he poked his head around the corner of the wall and into the kitchen. He blinked. 

It was his dad. He was standing at the toaster, a butter knife held in his hand. Neatly ironed suit already on. 

Wes walked in without announcing himself and went to the cupboard. His dad jumped, catching a glimpse of him over his shoulder. 

“Oh, Wesley.” He cleared his throat and shifted towards him. “You’re up early.” 

“Yep.” 

He got a box of cereal and closed the cupboard. He turned his back to his father to get a clean bowl. 

“Right. Uhm. Did you… want toast?”

Wes nudged the cupboard door closed with an elbow. 

“No, I don’t want toast.” He put his bowl on the dining table and filled it with cereal. His dad watched him. 

“There’s eggs in the fridge too if you—” 

“Dad, it’s fine.” Wes didn’t look at him, and put the cereal box away. He got the jug of milk from the fridge and poured it over the sugary monstrosity that had the audacity to call itself a balanced breakfast. Other than the sound of the milk glugging, the kitchen was tense and silent. Wes screwed the cap back on the milk and put it back in the fridge, getting a spoon next from the silverware drawer. 

The toaster popped, and his Dad startled. 

Under different circumstances Wes might have laughed. 

He pulled out a seat at the table, its legs scraping over the hardwood floor. He sank down into the cold chair and started eating. He pulled his phone out from his sweatpant pocket and scrolled without really paying attention to the images and text that slid past. 

“Aren’t you late for work or something?” he said. His dad stopped scraping the butter on his toast. 

“Now that I’m finally settled into the office a bit more I don’t have to be in till seven.” 

Wes clicked his tongue. “Oh. Joy.” He shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. His dad sighed, and he could see his shoulders slump out of the corner of his eye. 

“Your uh, tryouts are today, right?” 

“Why’s it matter? Not like you ever have time to come to my games anyway.” He said it hoping it would hurt. It was childish, Wes knew it was, but he just wanted his dad to get it for once.

“Wesley, kiddo... I know this has been hard on you and your brother—” Wes snorted. His Dad pressed on. “But this job was an amazing opportunity, I really think it could do a lot of good for us.” 

“We were fine with the job you had.”

“I thought a change of environment would help after everything that happened. I’m only doing what’s best for the two of you. For all of us, as a family.”

Wes laughed. It was empty and brittle. 

“Well, that’s news to me. We’re hardly even a family anymore.” 

“Wesley,” his dad’s voice took on a stern edge. 

“You didn’t care about us, if you did you would have asked what we wanted.” 

“And this is exactly why I didn’t.” His Dad gestured jerkily towards him with the butter knife.

“What’s that mean?” Wes slapped his phone down and glared up at his dad.

“It’s clear that you’re still too immature to deal with this like an adult. I’m doing this with your futures in mind, Wesley.” 

“By ripping us away from home? From all our friends? From Grandma and Grandpa? Uncle Ronnie?” Wes’ heart was thumping in his ears and he wanted to scream, flip the table over, something to make the pressure in his chest go away. 

His dad scoffed. 

“Don’t raise your voice at me. I told you when we moved that we would visit for the holidays.” 

“That just makes it all better. Doesn’t it?” he pushed through grit teeth. He squeezed the handle of his spoon in his fist, the cool metal pressing indentions into his skin. 

“The world doesn’t revolve around you and what you want. It’s no one's fault but your own that you’re choosing to learn it the hard way.” 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.” 

“Wesley!” his dad snapped. “One thing you won’t do is speak to me like that under my roof, you understand me?”

Wes held his dad’s gaze, not backing down.

“After tryouts you come right home and stay here for the weekend.” 

“What? Seriously?!” 

“Yes, seriously.”

Rage whirled in his throat and he bit down on his tongue. He stood up, his chair skidding backwards. Fucking bullshit. It was fucking bullshit. 

He threw his spoon down onto the table. It clattered and bounced off the side of his bowl. He snatched his phone and stormed away from the table and back up to his room. He slammed his door behind him and stood there seething, his hands balled into fists. 

He stood there as the seconds ticked by, eyes roaming over his room for something he wouldn’t mind breaking. The buzz of his phone distracted him, and he looked down, turning on the screen.

If it was from Dad he was gonna—

Alien Fucker: ? 

Oh. Right. 

It made sense that he’d probably woken up Kyle. He typed a message back into their chat. 

Basketball Freak: Nothing

Alien Fucker: Didn’t sound like nothing 

Basketball Freak: Dad grounded me again 

...

it’s whatever at this point  

Alien Fucker: F in the chat

…

want me to talk to him?  

Basketball Freak: no, its fine 

Alien Fucker: K just lemme know 

Kyle always felt like he had to be the mediator. In the year leading up to the divorce he was the middle man between Mom and Dad, despite Wes telling him that it was ridiculous. Their parents were grown-ass adults. They shouldn’t have fucking needed their seventeen-year-old-son to deliver messages back and forth because they couldn’t stand to talk to each other. And Dad called him immature. 

Kyle hated the tension, he took on the peacekeeper role like a job, trying to hold them all together in vain as the family crumbled around him. Wes probably hadn’t helped any, looking back. 

He picked fights with Dad like it was his job. 

And Mom… He still didn’t talk to Mom. 

He tried to get where Kyle was coming from, he really did. But pretending that shit wasn't fucked wasn’t going to unfuck it. 

Their parents deserved to know what they'd done was wrong. And if hating them was what it took, then goddamnit, Wes was going to do it.  

Wes tossed his phone onto his bed and started getting dressed for school. 

***

The school day passed by uneventful. Mia had the scoop about some couple that had broken up over the two day break that Wes hardly paid attention to. He helped her set her shutter speed and they took pictures of fast moving objects outside. 

At lunch he sat with Kyle and his stoner friends. 

In chemistry, Wes got there after Danny. He set his stuff down, scooting his stool away from him. They ignored each other the best they could as people got settled for class. 

 Wes bounced his leg on the stool’s rung and kept an eye on the clock. Two more classes until tryouts. 

Mrs. Merriweather erased the notes on the board from last class and once the bell rang her iron gaze flicked over the class to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. 

“Once I take roll, you’ll work on writing your findings from the last lab in a short essay.” An unenthused murmur filtered through the class. Wes glanced sideways to see Danny grimacing. 

Hah. Served him right. 

“Mr. Fenton. You can make up for your absence last class in an hour's detention after school today.”

Some of their classmates turned to look at Danny, half smiles and shared glances. Nothing was more unifying in a classroom than someone who wasn't you getting in trouble. 

Danny hunched his shoulders and sighed.

“Yes, Mrs. Merriweather,” he said.     

Sucked for him, but really, what did he expect? Skipping class was a risk he decided to take. 

Wes used his notes from the lab he’d done by himself, and started writing his short essay. The class quieted and the only sound was the occasional whisper and the shuffle of papers. 

Danny was quiet, fiddling with a pencil and looking at his phone under the table when Mrs. Merriweather wasn’t watching. Wes couldn’t tell who Danny was messaging, but if he had to guess it’d be the other two-thirds of his friend group. Eventually, Danny pulled out papers from a beat up binder and started working on it. From the corner of his eye he’d guess it was history homework.  

All Wes cared about was that Danny didn’t bother him. He wrote his essay with his mind half on the words and half on the growing excitement of hitting the court. Finally, finally he’d be able to do one of the only things he was good at. The minutes dragged past and around the fiftieth time he’d glanced up at the clock Danny shifted next to him. 

“Dude, chill out, you’re making me nervous,” he said quietly. He didn’t even look up from his homework when he said it. 

Wes lifted his head from his partially done essay and narrowed his eyes. 

“Mind your own business, Fenton.” 

Fenton rolled his eyes but said no more. 

Class wrapped up twenty minutes later, Wes turned in his sloppily written essay and bolted out of the room. The hallways swelled with students as they poured from their classrooms. Econ was all that stood between Wes and tryouts. He swung by his locker, grabbing his books. 

He was about to turn to leave when he bumped into someone. They both stumbled back and Wes recognized the pungent smell coming off the other person. 

“Whoa man, sorry ‘bout that.” Said a guy with blond hair and a beanie slouched over his head. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Wes said, trying to get around him. 

“Hey wait, you’re Wesley, right? Kyle’s lil bro.” 

Well, that explained the smell. 

“Uh, yeah that’s me. Sorry, but I’ve gotta—” 

“Dude, sweet. Name’s Robbie, I’m pretty chill with your brother,” he said. 

“That’s nice. Well, nice to meet you and stuff.” Wes stepped around the stoner and headed towards his class. 

“Yeah, totally! I wasn’t here for lunch but Kyle said you hung out with the group today—” Robbie said, following after Wes. 

He pushed a breath between his teeth. Great, guess this was happening now. 

“—but like Kyle’s told me a lot about you, man.” 

“Cool?” Seriously, why was this guy talking to him? 

“Yeah, I just wanted to say the group’s mega on your side.” 

“Uh-huh. Cool.” 

Wait. 

“On my side about what?” Wes slowed his pace.

“The ghosts, bro!” 

“What about them?” 

“Pf, bruh. We’ve lived in Amity Park for like, ever? We’re trying to convince him that this ghost stuff is legit.” 

Wes scoffed. “Good luck with that. I’ve been trying since I was like six.” 

Robbie shook his head. “I know what’cha mean, bro. Dude’s like a steel trap... or however that saying goes.” Robbie shrugged. 

Wes chuckled. “Let me know if you guys make any progress with him,” he said. He’d meant it as a joke, but Robbie nodded seriously. 

“Hell yeah, dude, that’s what’s up. You can count on me.” He held out a closed fist to Wes. 

He rolled his eyes but didn’t hide his grin. He fist bumped Robbie. 

“Okay, well… I’m going to class now.” 

Robbie held up his hands. “Oh, yeah, totes. I should probably do that too, now that I think about it.”

“Probably.” 

Robbie turned and walked away in the opposite direction, a single textbook swinging in his grasp. Kyle’s friends were always friendly. Even if they were a bit annoying. 

Wes was almost late for Econ, thanks to the fact the class was on the other side of the building. He slipped into the room and sat down, letting out a breath when the last bell rang thirty seconds later. 

Mr. Brown took his place at the front of the class, voice as monotonous as ever. His button-up was wrinkled around his midsection, and he ran his hands over it like that would help.

“Alright class, we’re going to start talking about the stock market today,” he said, pulling up Google on the projector.    

Wes hardly absorbed a word from Mr. Brown’s lecture, which was a total snooze-fest. The stock market wasn’t exactly riveting stuff. He bounced his leg under his desk, watching the clock.

Mr. Brown was in the middle of describing the homework: picking three stocks and tracking their ups and downs through-out the weekend, when the bell rang. Wes had been about ready to start pulling his hair out. 

He shot up from his seat and was first out the door.  

Wes made a beeline for his locker. Or at least he tried. He got stuck behind kids walking at a snail's pace three times. He got a few dirty looks for pushing past people loitering in their groups. 

Eventually, he made it to his locker and fumbled with the lock. Once open, he stuffed his books and notes anywhere they’d fit. Papers crumpled and his notebook creaseed down the center. He pulled his bag from the hook and slung it over his shoulder. He headed to the locker rooms at a jog, back to bobbing and weaving around people in the halls.  

“Mr. Weston, no running in the halls!” He heard Mr. Lancer call after him as he went past the English room. He slowed down to a power walk, not caring that he looked stupid. 

He got to the locker room and got his gym clothes out. He changed quickly, ripping his shirt off and almost tripping over his jeans. 

There were other guys in the room, some he recognized and others he didn’t. Before he put his phone away he checked it, the screen lighting up. At the very top of the lock screen was a message notification. 

Mom: How was the first week of school?

His fingers tightened around his phone, pushing the blood away from his fingertips and leaving them pale. He stared at it until the screen dimmed. 

He didn’t want to think about it, not now—not at all. He tossed his phone into his bag and zipped it up. 

Out of sight out of mind. 

He locked up the rest of his stuff and left the locker room. He followed a few other guys into the gym. 

The overhead lights reflected in bright streaks on the polished wood floor. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of cleaners and old set in sweat. He scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the floor. The high pitched sound echoed around the room; it felt like home. 

Mrs. Tetslaff was standing by the bleachers, writing something on a clipboard. A few students that looked like freshmen were wheeling out a wire cart heaped with basketballs. 

Wes walked towards Tetslaff, coming to stop a ways away. He shifted from foot to foot in anticipation. Within a minute or two there was a loose ring of guys waiting around. A majority were talking amongst themselves, joking around. Clearly they were last year’s team, bonded by hours of blood, sweat, and tears. Wes was on the outside. He felt a sour twinge in his stomach watching them. He wondered how his old team was doing… None of them had messaged him since he left. Not even Cole or Adam.

“Ay, new kid!” 

Wes turned to see a guy with short black hair and olive brown skin. The guy was a bit taller than him. He came up and clapped Wes on the back so hard it stung his skin. He stumbled forward a bit before catching himself. 

“I hear you played point in Cali.” 

Wes tapped the toe of his shoe against the ground a few times. “Yeah?” 

The guy smiled, dark eyes sparkling. He had a nicely structured face, the stubble on his chin making it a reasonable guess that he was a senior. 

“I’m José. Wesley, right? ” He crossed his arms over his chest. Wes didn’t know if he was intending to show off his biceps or not, but it certainly seemed like he was. “I was point-guard last year, and ain’t no way in hell some lanky California kid is gonna yoink my spot.” 

Wes carefully gaged for any hostility, but there was none. José was all smiles. A friendly challenge? 

“I guess we’ll just see about that, won’t we?” He smirked back. 

Somehow José’s smile got bigger. He laughed, his posture breaking into something more casual. 

“I like you already, Wesley.” He stuck out his hand for a handshake. Wes obliged. José grabbed his hand without mercy and shook so vigorously Wes thought he’d lose his arm.

“Just ‘Wes’ is fine,” he said with a wince. José released his hand. “Ow,” he muttered, shaking his hand out. 

“C’mon, you can hang with us, save you the embarrassment of mingling with the Freshmen.” José slung an arm around his shoulders and steered him into the inner circle of guys. He followed, mostly because he didn’t have much of a choice. As they got close the group looked up, varying levels of welcoming. 

“Wes, this is Mark,” he pointed to the dude the farthest from them. He was shorter than Wes, long brown hair tied behind his head. 

“‘Sup.” 

“Next we got Joseph.” José motioned to a guy with terrible posture, it made it hard to tell how tall he was. He looked familiar and it took a few seconds for the light bulb to come on. It clicked and Wes remembered he had Homeroom with him. “We just call him Jo or Joey though.” The guy in question threw up a peace sign. He had light grey hair, obviously the product of a good chunk of money and some bleach. 

Now that Wes thought of it, living in Amity Park, it was weird how many people didn’t have crazy bleached or dyed hair. Maybe it was more of a west coast thing? Or Amity was just behind on the times. Probably both.  

“This is Anthony,” José moved to the next guy. He was about Wes’ height and he had neatly cut and styled almond brown hair. He looked like he belonged in a boy band. His eyes were hazel green, and he looked Wes up and down. 

“Hey,” was all he said. Wes tried not to stare too long as José moved on. 

“Last but not least we got our boy Isaac.” He had black hair, shaved on the sides and longer on top with loose curls. He had dark skin like José. Isaac pointed finger guns at him. 

“Yo, man, pleasure to meet ya,” he said. He had more of a detectable latin accent than José.   

José broke away from Wes to clap hands with Isaac and pull him into a one armed hug. 

“This here our inner circle, Joey and Mark are Juniors like you, but the rest of us ’re Seniors.” 

“It’s nice to meet all you guys, God, you don’t know how long it feels like I’ve waited for today,” he said. He rubbed his upper arm.  

“I just hope you ain’t rusty. I heard you got game.” Isaac said.

Wes shrugged a shoulder. “I mean…” 

“Humble,” José nodded. “I like that about you, Wes. I’m ‘bouta smoke you, make sure you stay that way.” 

The rest of the group let out a chorus of “oh”s. The gauntlet had officially been thrown down in front of witnesses. Wes didn’t fight his smile as he sank into the familiar feeling. 

“Cool, dude. Just don’t cry when I dunk on your ass, okay?” 

The group oh’d louder this time. 

“Dammnn, new kid! You got spunk, never would have guessed from class,” Joseph laughed. “Seriously, in Homeroom he never talks to anyone,” he told the rest of the group. 

“Hey, no judgment, Anthony’s been needing another introvert to keep him company.” Mark grabbed Anthony by the shoulders and gave him a rattle. 

Anthony waved him off. “Shut up.” 

The sound of a whistle pierced through the gym. They all cringed and turned to look at the source of the noise.

Mrs. Testlaff had her hands on her hips. 

“What’re you all waiting around for? You know the drill, warm-ups first.” She clapped a palm against the back of her clipboard. Her voice boomed through the gym.  “Two laps around the gym, go!” 

***

The amount of drills they did had to be criminal. Wes’ muscles burned and his hair was spiked with sweat and water from the fountain down the hall. He’d forgotten his water bottle at home, which he wholeheartedly blamed on his dad.  

It took a while, shaking off the rust and sinking back into his comfort zone. It felt like the court snapped into focus and all that mattered was the squeak of shoes and the fleeting touch of the ball against the curve of his palm. His body moved the exact way he wanted it to. He spun and dodged, nailed three point shots more often than not, felt like he was riding a high.

They practiced individual skills before they moved onto mock games. José was no joke. He moved like he could read the offence’s mind. It was frustrating and exhilarating at the same time. 

The group’s synchronicity of their plays made their history together obvious. 

The practice games were intense and competitive. For every layup and three pointer Wes scored, José would score the same. The others weren’t pushovers either. Isaac would shut him out with a shit-eating grin and Anthony was way faster than he looked. 

José blew past his sophomore defender and jumped, slamming the ball through the basket and holding onto the rim for a few seconds before he dropped. He bounced into a jog, whooping in triumph. Isaac and Mark high-fived him while Joseph and Anthony, who were on Wes’s side, groaned.

Mrs. Tetslaff blew the whistle and everyone stopped, turning towards her. 

“Alright, gentlemen, good job today. Take a five minute break. Go get some water and then we’ll move into cool downs.” 

Wes sighed, his shoulders sagging. Admittedly, he was tired, but he didn’t want to stop. His new friend group walked towards the corner of the gym to a bench where they had water bottles and towels. Wes, who had neither, just went for the company. Issac grabbed his shoulder as he neared. 

“Shit, man, you can actually play,” he said, giving him a shake.

“So can you guys,” he breathed. Wes grabbed the hem of his shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off his face. “You didn’t take it easy on me that’s for sure.” 

“Mrs. Tetslaff was impressed, I could tell,” Joseph said, sprawling out on one of the benches. 

“You think so?” Wes glanced back at the stern woman who was in the middle of yelling at a pair of Freshmen across the gym.

“For sure, bro. The way you played you might jus’ make varsity,” José said, smacking the cap of his water bottle closed. 

“‘Might’?” Wes quirked a brow. 

“Homie, yer gonna have to get past us to make varsity,” Isaac pointed out, gesturing to the rest of the guys. Wes blinked, looking at the five of them. 

“Damn, guess you’re right.” 

“It’s okay, you can take Joey’s spot, he won’t miss it,” Mark said, snapping his hand towel at Joseph. He squawked and rolled off the bench onto the floor with a thud. 

“Asshole! And what the hell d’you mean I wouldn’t miss it?” He pushed himself up to glare up at Mark. 

“Bruh, all last season you cared more about flirting with Tiff than showing up to practice on time.” 

Joseph’s cheeks flushed pink. 

“So? I still got better stats than you did. Plus who doesn’t lose track of time when flirting with a cute girl?”

“I dunno, man. Sounds like a straight problem,” Anthony said from Wes’ other side. Wes looked over at him, a little surprised. 

Joseph pushed himself up. “Shut up, Anthony, as if you haven’t been late because you’re flirting with some guy.” 

Anthony snorted. “At this school? Gimme a break.” 

“Whatever, dude, at least I don’t wanna fuck a ghost.” 

That managed to get a reaction out of Anthony. He stiffened, cheeks tinting red. His gaze darted around the ground before his expression hardened.

“If I remember right, Joseph, you retweeted Dash’s ‘Its not gay if he’s dead’ tweet just like everybody else,” he shot back, lifting his chin.

Joseph’s eyes widened. 

Isaac, Mark and José spluttered from behind Joseph. Anthony smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Because it was funny! It was a meme, dude!”

“No need to get defensive now, it’s okay. You can admit that Phantom made you have a gay awakening.” Anthony had an evil twinkle in his eye, like a shark that’d caught the scent of blood.

“What? Dude, no I— Guys come on, help me out here.” 

Isaac stepped up next to Joseph and threw an arm around him, pulling him closer by his neck. 

“Homie, no cap, I wasn’t bi till I moved here. That probably ain’t no coincidence, know wha’m’sayin’?  

Joseph looked stricken, like he could feel himself losing the argument. 

“Oh come on—what about you, newbie?” 

All eyes turned to Wes and he swallowed. Oh, God. Why were people in Amity so goddamn weird? Attracted? To a ghost? 

“Uhm… I mean. Uh. I’ve only seen him once…” He twisted the toe of his shoe against the ground. “Also he’s technically dead, right? Isn’t that like, messed up?” 

Everyone who wasn’t Joseph just rolled their eyes or puffed out a breath. 

“He’s new, give him a while, he’ll come around,” Isaac said, sharing glances with the guys in support of literally thinking a ghost was hot. Wes tried to hide his bewilderment. He seriously doubted he’d “come around”. What was wrong with these people? 

Joseph shoved himself away from Isaac’s grip and interlocked his arm with Wes’. 

“Fuck you guys, Wes is my new bestfriend now.” 

“Boy, you literally out here with silver hair, who’da fuck you think you foolin?” José said, jabbing a flat hand towards him.

“...Elliot said it’d help me get girls’ numbers,” he said softly, lifting his hands to tend it with a frown.  

“You actually listened to that clown?” Anthony grimaced. 

“Bro, I thought you said you liked it?” 

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” 

“Oof, Anthony hit his word limit, guys.” Mark said. The guys broke into laughter. For the first time since moving to Amity Park, Wes actually didn’t hate being there. 

But because it was in-fact Amity Park, of course that’s when shit went sideways. 

There was an explosion from above them. Wes flinched, whipping around towards the source of the sound. The overhead lights flickered, and debris rained down on the center of the court. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling of the gym, sunlight streaming through. A huge shape flew down through the hole, stopping to float thirty feet up. The being glowed unnaturally and had what looked like a mohawk of green flames. The thing looked around, and then flew straight towards Wes and the group. Wes stumbled back into Isaac, his brain short circuiting.

“What the hell—” 

“Ghost!” someone screamed, and that’s all it took for the gym to descend into chaos. People scattered, fleeting through the nearest exits. 

But Wes and his new friends had nowhere to go. They all backed up, pushed against each other in the corner.

“Oh shit,” José said, voice hushed. “It’s Skulker.” 

“What? Who?” Wes whispered back. 

“Dude, shut up! He’s coming closer,” Joseph hissed, slapping a hand over Wes’ mouth. He didn’t even have time to be pissed about it before the ghost was right on top of them.

It grinned. The air felt heavy and Wes’ heart kicked in his chest. Its body was grey and sleek like metal. Out of all the ghosts that they could have, of course Amity had a fucking cyborg ghost. 

The ghost loomed over them. “Have any of you feeble little humans seen the Ghost Child recently?” Its voice was gruff and low, echoing horribly against Wes’ ears. Its eyes were disks of solid green burning into them as it stared. It was still smiling, jagged metal teeth gleaming in the dim reflected light. 

Wes wanted to say “no”, maybe that would make it leave, but Joey’s hand was still firmly over his mouth. The ghost leaned closer, its glare narrowing. 

“Well? Speak, you sniveling humans,” it growled. 

There was a moment’s silence, then: “recently? No.” 

Wes, along with the rest of the group’s attention snapped over in dismay to Anthony. He looked nonchalant, or would have if not for the rigidness of his arms and the tension in his brow. Their gaze slowly craned back over to the ghost, terrified of its reaction.

But the ghost leaned back, demeanor doing a complete one-eighty. “Huh, you haven’t?” Its eyes went cartoonishly big. He looked at a panel that appeared on the back of his wrist. “My scanners say he’s in the area.” The ghost tapped in the scanner a few times, before he gave up and shrugged. 

“No matter.” The cruel smile spread over its face again. “All I have to do is stir up a bit more trouble and my prey will surely appear.” 

Wes watched in horror as long wicked green blades extended out from the ghost’s arms. It closed the small gap between them, a chuckle building up from its throat—or whatever ghosts had. 

“Why hasn’t someone hit the Ghost Alarm?” Mark whispered. 

“Shh,” José snapped. 

Wes swallowed, his mouth going dry and his knees shaking. 

Yeah, he absolutely hated it here again. 

The ghost lifted a blade, resting its tip just above his collarbone. Holy shit, holy shit, holy—

Wes caught the sight of movement from behind the ghost: a flash of black and white. 

“Skulker, leave them alone,” came another echoing voice. Instead of feeling hot and stuffy a chill spread over Wes’ skin as the temperature of the gym dropped. 

The metal ghost spun around, its absence opening up the group's line of sight enough to see none other than Phantom. He was floating some ten feet away, arms crossed over his chest. He paid them no attention, his eyes fully locked on the hulking metal ghost. 

“Oh thank fuck,” Joseph breathed, relaxing enough to release Wes. 

���There you are, Ghost Child,” the cyborg said, sounding pleased. “I was wondering when you’d decide to—” Phantom became a blur. The next thing Wes knew, the huge ghost was sent flying, crashing into a wall on the right side of the gym. 

Phantom was now occupying the space the cyborg ghost had just been. He shook out his hand before curling it back into a fist. “Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you not to drag people into our shit, Skulker?” There was a beat, and Phantom looked over at them, like he’d just remembered they were there in the first place. His eyes flicked over all of them, and Wes couldn’t suppress his shiver when the ghost looked at him. 

“Oh, ‘sup. You guys might wanna, ya’know...” He jerked his head towards the closest exit. And then Phantom was gone, reappearing across the gym. The group didn’t need to be told twice, the next second they were moving. They scrambled out of the corner, practically tripping over one another. 

Wes felt like he was frozen in place. He stared dumbly at where Phantom and the metal ghost were now locked in battle. 

“Dude, what’re you waiting for? Let’s go!” José said, grabbing Wes by the arm and hauling him towards the doors. 

“Wait—” he objected weakly. His legs felt like jelly as he moved. He wanted to see the fight, see Phantom. He didn’t know why, but something in the back of his mind was screaming at him. 

He had questions.

But his new friends didn’t stop until they’d dragged him out through the metal swinging doors of the gym and into the hallway. The door slowly swung back closed, and Wes caught a glimpse of green bolts streaking like comets through the air and Phantom colliding with the ground.  

[possiamo-andare]

Man’s Best Friend: JJ Maybank

JJ x Reader (Female)

MASTERLIST

word count: 4.2k

a/n: ok so this has not been edited but it literally came to me in a dream. Of course, it was not JJ but another boy that I know (you could say my crush) but I can’t use my crush’s name and I thought this would be a good JJ fic. I might go over it later, but I wanted to get it out because I love this idea way too much. Anways, I hope you enjoy!

summary: JJ Maybank was devastated after he lost one of his best friends. To protect himself, he turns away even his best friends. In an effort to fix JJ, Kiara and Pope get JJ a dog. At first, JJ hates the idea and doesn’t want a dog but soon enough, Apollo brings him joy and solace in so many ways.

~

JJ Maybank had never been the same since John B. and Sarah's disappearance. For all he knew, they were dead. John B. had been a part of his family. The nights where his father was intoxicated were the nights John B. took him in and let him sleepover. Although they had grown close in middle school, sharing the same science class, JJ felt as if they had known each other for their entire lives. JJ knew this was rare. He didn't have to read thousands of books to know what love was and although he would never admit it to anyone, he loved John B. like a brother. So, that fateful night when John B. and Sarah risked their lives to escape and Shoupe gave them the heart breaking news, JJ broke down. Nothing prepared him for the news that his friend might as well be dead.

The months after John B.'s death, JJ might as well have been dead. Looking back, he doesn't remember much of those months he spent couped up in John. B.'s house reminiscing. It all was a blur. If he wasn't going to court for his trial, he was crying himself to sleep. He suspected Kiara and Pope had done the same but he wasn't sure. He hadn't spoken to them since that night and although they tried to reach out to JJ, he never let them in. They would stop by John B.'s house, bringing food and water, and knock on his door. They waited for many minutes, calling out for JJ, but he never answered. Kiara and Pope, although suffering from the same loss, knew JJ was in a rough place when he wouldn't even talk to them. There was no topic too taboo enough for JJ not to discuss with his friends. He could even openly discuss his father's abuse Now, when it seemed he needed a support system the most, JJ shut down.

Then, three months later, Kiara had enough. She, along with Pope, missed their friend. Although their group would never be the same without John B, JJ's absence seemed to make Kiara and Pope miserable. JJ was the glue that held them all together. When something abysmal would happen, whether it happened directly to JJ or not, JJ made a joke about it. His father beat him? Well, he’s got a mean right hook. Sheriff Peterkin is dead and the entirety of OBX is after John B? Well, if John B. showered and stopped smelling like shit, maybe he would be harder to find. JJ’s jokes cleared the fog and allowed anyone who would listen a little peace during whatever hard time they were going through. But now that JJ was no longer himself, Kiara knew he needed his friends the most. Along with Pope, they devised a plan to slowly integrate back into JJ’s life. They were all still crushed over their friend’s death but they needed to mourn together. They were always stronger together. That afternoon, Kiara and Pope went to Figure 8’s shelter with only an idea in their head and a wad of cash they saved in their hands.

As they walked through all of the kennels, they examined each pet. They knew JJ couldn’t have just any regular dog, he needed a friend. This was JJ Maybank they were talking about. JJ could barely look after himself right now. An hour into their shopping for the perfect dog, they were about to quit. None of the dogs seemed good enough for JJ. That is, until they got to the last kennel. Laying on their back, with his tongue out, was a staffie. Unlike all of the other dogs, this staffie didn’t not run to the fence and try to lick Kiara or Pope. Instead, it continued to lay on it’s back and watched as Kiara and Pope tried to call it over. When it wouldn’t come, Kiara looked to Ms. Conway, the vet at the shelter, and asked what was wrong with the dog.

“His name is Apollo.” Ms. Conway started, crouching down and sticking her finger in the fence. Still, the dog continued to lay on his stomach. “He’s a rescue. His previous owner mistreated him and he’s scared, but he’s a good dog. He can tell if you’re a good or bad person right away.”

Pope’s brows lifted, a confused look written over his face. He looked to Ms. Conway. “What do you mean?”

Ms. Conway shrugged. “I had this new nurse, who was wonderful with all of the dogs, except Apollo. He seemed to hate her. He never barked at her or bit her, just was extremely cold to her. It was as if his tail stopped wagging whether she passed him. I thought it was nothing, but then, when some money was stolen out of the register, I had a sick feeling that maybe it was her. So, I reviewed the security tapes and it was. I’d like to think Apollo knew she was a bad person before anyone else did.”

Pope looked back to Kiara, who was already smiling. “Why hasn’t he been adopted then?” Kiara asked, looking at Apollo who was now perked up at the mention of his name.

Ms. Conway frowned. “He’s an older dog. Not many people want older dogs.”

Kiara and Pope smiled, both of them looking at Apollo. Kiara could never be sure, but he seemed to be smiling too. Without having to discuss it privately, Kiara looked back to Ms. Conway and said, “We’ll take him.”

Kiara and Pope left that shelter that day with a dog on a leash and a smile on their lips. Apollo was the perfect dog for JJ. He could be the dog version of JJ. Although it may not fix what was broken in JJ, they knew that this dog could be the start in repairing the version of JJ that both Pope and Kiara needed.

At first, JJ wasn’t pleased that Kiara and Pope had gotten him a dog without his permission. In fact, pleased would not be the correct word. He was down right angry. How dare they try to fix him? He didn’t need fixing, he needed his best friend back and no dog in the world would replace his friend. He made this very clear to Kiara and Pope, but they would not take no for an answer.

“We miss our friend JJ.” Kiara frowned, watching as Apollo obediently sat on the lawn. Kiara had tied his leash to the tree, thinking he may run off but that wasn’t the case. Apollo seemed to already know that this was his home.

JJ scoffed. “I’m sorry you miss me but trying to replace John B. with a dog is not gonna make me feel better.”

Pope rolled his eyes, stepping closer to JJ. “That’s not what we’re trying to do and you know it.” JJ had not let them into John B.’s house yet so they were forced to wait on the porch as JJ leaned against the threshold of the door.

JJ looked over Pope’s shoulder, watching Apollo as he just sat there. He seemed to just be content, sitting there with nothing to do and it made JJ smirk. Maybe having a pet to help him through his friend’s death wouldn’t be so hard. He looked back to his friends. “I know. I just can’t even look after myself, how the hell am I supposed to look after a dog?”

Kiara shook her head. “Apollo is well trained. All you have to do is show him some love. I think it would be good for you to have some company JJ.”

Pope agreed, nodding his head. “There’s this thing called therapy dogs, JJ. They help people with numerous traumatic events that have happened in their lives. This dog could bring you some solace.”

Kiara stepped forward this time, wrapping his arms around JJ. At first he did not hug her back but when he was sure she wouldn’t let go until he had hugged her, he returned the gesture. “And when you feel a little bit better,” Kiara said, still hugging JJ. “Then you can call your friends.”

The first night JJ had Apollo was the hardest night of his life. Apollo, still not entirely warmed up to JJ, barked the entire night. JJ had laid out a blanket and a newspaper for him and thought that it would be enough. But, just like JJ, Apollo was traumatized and scared to be in such a new environment alone. Until midnight, Apollo barked and barked, calling out for god knows what. JJ, who was only in a good mood if he had enough sleep the night before, was getting restless. He hadn’t slept a wink since he laid on the pullout couch and was getting angrier by the minute. Finally, as the clock struck midnight, JJ got out of his “bed” and stormed to the other side of the room where Apollo was supposed to be sleeping.

“Dude,” JJ grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes. “Stop whining.”

The second Apollo realized JJ was talking to him, he stopped barking. He sat up, his tongue out and panting. JJ knew what that face meant, he had seen it in many dogs before.

“No,” JJ shook his head. “We’re not playing at midnight.”

JJ could’ve sworn he saw Apollo smile. But dogs couldn’t really smile, right?

“No.” JJ stomped his foot. He glared at Apollo, his tail still wagging. As much as JJ didn’t want to admit it, this dog was beginning to grow on him, as annoying as he could be. With a deep sigh, JJ nodded. “Fine, but only for half an hour and then we sleep.”

Apollo instantly barked and scurried to the front door where his only toy sat. In an instant, he had the poor tennis ball in his mouth as he patiently waited for JJ to open the front door. JJ walked to the front door, unlocking the door before opening it. He looked down at Apollo, watching as the staffie made no effort to leave.

JJ frowned. “What? Go.” JJ pointed to the lawn, confusion evident on his face as he watched his dog just sit there, wagging his tail with a tennis ball in his mouth. JJ rolled his eyes. “Ok, or I’ll go.”

The second JJ stepped over the threshold of the door, Apollo was right behind him. JJ watched as the staffie stayed at his side, never running past him to play on the lawn. JJ was puzzled. He wondered why this dog wanted to be by his side all day. They had only known each other for one day yet Apollo seemed to love JJ like he would if he had been his owner for 15 years. JJ thought back to Kiara’s words. She had said Apollo was very intuitive. He could sense if someone was a good person or not. JJ was sure that was full of crap. If Apollo was so intuitive, then why did he love JJ? JJ knew who he was. He was a delinquent. He had thought of the idea of the boat which had gotten his friend killed. JJ had pointed that gun in the air at the beach which only got Topper more pissed off at the Pogues. JJ got arrested. JJ stole money. JJ was a terrible student. So, if Apollo was so intuitive, why could he not sense how bad JJ was? As JJ sat on the stairs on John B.’s porch throwing the tennis ball for Apollo to catch, he wondered that maybe if this dog couldn’t sense any bad, many he wasn’t actually that bad. This realization made JJ both sad and happy. Angry because he should feel guilty and anyone who said he shouldn’t was lying to him. Sad because he wished he wasn’t such a screw up. Maybe if he wasn’t John B. and Sarah would still be alive. JJ let a tear slide down his face before wiping it away. Soon, there were too many tears for JJ to wipe away in time.

JJ threw the ball onto the lawn again, waiting for Apollo to run and catch it. Except Apollo didn’t. He stopped in his tracks, watching JJ intently as he cried. JJ felt embarrassed to cry on the first day of getting this dog. “What?” JJ blubbered.

Apollo stayed quiet, slowly moving towards JJ. His tail wagged slower as he approached JJ and he was no longer panting so hard. JJ said nothing, watching in awe as Apollo approached him. JJ couldn’t believe it. Kiara was right. This dog would tell when JJ was sad and wanted to comfort him. Slowly, Apollo lay his head on JJ’s lap, looking up at his new owner. He had a frown on his face, his tongue still out. Apollo nuzzled his head in JJ’s lap, his breathing now even as he emitted a type of warmth JJ had never felt before.

JJ looked down at his dog, finally smiling through his tears. Apollo, taking JJ’s smile as a good sign, smiled back, his mouth open and his tail wagging. JJ shook his head, petting his dog on his head. “Well buddy,” JJ finally said, wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks. “You saw me cry. Now we have to be best buds.”

JJ and Apollo spent every moment together. It didn’t matter that JJ was doing, Apollo was right beside him. What they enjoyed most was going to the beach and swimming. JJ even let Apollo stand on his board, riding more calm waves than the ones deeper in the ocean. Apollo made him happy. He knew Apollo could never replace what he had with John B. but that was not what he was trying to do. Apollo was there not to replace John B., but help him come to terms with his death and fill the hole in his heart. The more time JJ spent with Apollo, the more he realized that it was not his fault that John B. and Sarah were dead. It was Shoupe’s fault and Ward’s. It was the fault of the greed in OBX. JJ couldn’t predict the future. He wouldn’t have known. And he knew John B. would not have wanted JJ to blame himself. Weeks passed and JJ felt better. Kiara and Pope were right; getting a dog would make him feel less alone. When he was ready, he finally allowed himself to spend time with Kiara and Pope. They spoke about John B. and Sarah’s death and, for the first time, JJ looked back on their adventure with a smile. They hadn’t gotten the gold, they had lost two friends, but they healed. They would never be whole again but JJ had his friends and he had Apollo. He was content. He seriously believed life could not have been better.

Then, a year later, as it approached the one year anniversary of John B. and Sarah’s death, JJ’s life got better. It was a place where nothing monumental ever happened; the convenience store. He was there to pick up dog food for Apollo. They were running low and JJ was supposed to go grocery shopping with Kiara the next day so he decided to go to the convenience store to buy a small package of dog food that would last Apollo a day before he went tomorrow with Kiara. It was supposed to be a quick and easy pick up. He was late anyways. He had promised to meet up with Pope at the beach and now, this little stop made him even more late. His intention was to be in and out but Apollo made that difficult.

“Which one is it again?” JJ joked, holding two small bags of dog food in front of Apollo. Apollo barked, watching his favourite bag of food be dangled in his face. JJ smirked, nodding. “Ah yes, Blue Buffalo. Great choice pal.” JJ turned back to the shelf and put the other one down.

He always pretended to let Apollo choose, just as a joke. It seemed like him and Apollo seemed to have the same sense of humour. Whenever JJ made a joke that Kiara and Pope didn’t understand, Apollo barked happily. Sometimes JJ thought it was only because Apollo didn’t want JJ to feel that no one found him funny, but other times JJ wholeheartedly believed Apollo understood his humour. When he turned back around, he frowned. Apollo was gone. JJ looked through the aisle and the aisle to the right but he didn’t see his dog. Sometimes Apollo would get distracted by simple things and wander but whenever JJ called him, he would always come back.

“Apollo!” JJ called, his eyes looking out for the familiar patter Apollo’s paws made when he ran. There was nothing. JJ’s heartbeat picked up. Where was his dog? He had just turned his back for a moment. If something happened to his dog, he’d never forgive himself.

As JJ exited the first aisle, his eyes scoured the peered down another aisle. His eyes instantly saw his dog, licking the face of a complete stranger. JJ sighed, thinking about how stupid his dog could be sometimes. That loveable idiot, JJ thought, almost gave me a heart attack. Although JJ was upset, he was also confused. As he made his way to the stranger and Apollo, JJ couldn’t think of an instance where Apollo ever approached a stranger. Apollo had been traumatized by his previous owner and was always skittish around new people. They always approached him before he approached them. He even remembered a time when Pope was gone for school for a month and when he came back, Apollo didn’t recognize him at first and wouldn’t go near him. Did Apollo recognize this person? If so, why did JJ not recognize them? He only saw the back of her back but he already knew he couldn’t have known her. She was a Kook.

“Apollo!” JJ shouted as he got closer to his dog.

Apollo finally stopped licking the girl’s face and perked up at JJ’s voice. When Apollo’s eyes met JJ’s, his eyes perked up and he ran away from you and towards JJ. JJ crouched down, petting his dog behind his ears. Apollo panted, smiling at his owner.

“He’s so cute.” You said, finally standing in front of JJ.

JJ stopped petting his dog but continued to look at him and not you. “He is.” He stood up, watching as his dog turned around and struts back to you.

This time you don’t crouch down and only pat his head. JJ frowns. Apollo really likes you. When JJ finally looks at you, he understands why. You’re gorgeous. The smile on your face is sweet and your eyes sparkle as you look down at Apollo. JJ realizes the air has been knocked out of him. He looks to Apollo, who just relishes in your petting. JJ smiles. That scoundrel, he thinks.

“I’m Y/N.” You say, looking up at JJ again and extending your hand.

JJ reaches out and takes it, shaking it quickly before shoving his hand back in his pocket. He tightens his hand in a fist. It aches as soon as he touches your skin. “JJ.”

You nod, your hand still petting Apollo. “He’s so good with strangers.” You comment, watching as Apollo flashes you a smile. Your eyes widen and you chuckle to yourself. You can already tell this dog is special.

JJ thinks he might have a heart attack. You’re absolutely breathtaking and he can’t help but think Apollo thinks the same. Why else would he have befriended a total stranger? “Actually, he’s not. He must really like you.”

You look at JJ again, your hand moving away from Apollo and going to the ends of your tank top where some threads are loose. You can’t help but admit to herself that JJ was handsome, but you doubted it was the appropriate time to ask a boy out. Besides, you hadn’t really ever asked a boy out. And you weren’t sure if he would even say yes. You couldn’t take that kind of embarrassment.

“Really?” You ask. When JJ nods, you continue. “I used to have a dog so maybe that’s why.”

JJ smiled at you, watching as Apollo looked up at you with a frown. He liked you a lot and wanted you to keep petting him. JJ whistled, causing Apollo’s head to turn JJ’s way. “C’mon Apollo. Let’s not bother this girl.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “It’s no bother. I love dogs.”

JJ nodded, taking a deep breath. He was battling whether to ask you out or not. He hadn’t been out on a date with a girl in almost a year, for good reason, and he almost felt guilty for trying to be happy again. He knew that if John B. were beside him, he’d tell him to ask you out but JJ couldn’t. He felt too guilty. Maybe, next time he would. For now, he was too nervous.

JJ whistled again, trying to get Apollo to move away from your side. “Apollo.” Apollo only looked at JJ, not moving an inch. JJ frowned, reaching out his arm and beckoning Apollo to him. Usually, this worked. Not this time. Apollo didn’t want to leave.

This time, you tried to help JJ. “Apollo,” You said sweetly, looking down at the staffie. Apollo looked up at you, eyes full of joy. You smiled, pointing to JJ but still looking at him. “Go to JJ.” JJ smiled, hearing you use his name. He wished he had more confidence because he wanted to ask you out so badly.

Apollo looked to JJ, then back at you. Finally, he moved but not in the way you or JJ thought he would. He moved from a seated position to laying on his back, waiting for you to scratch his belly. He laughed, covering your mouth. You bent down to scratch his belly for a moment, then looked to JJ. JJ was smiling now. He couldn’t believe this dog. What did he want?

JJ made his way to you and Apollo, crouching down beside you and rubbing Apollo’s belly. Apollo looked so happy, JJ started to laugh along with you. This dog owned both of you and he knew it. “I’m so sorry.” JJ continued to laugh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him today.”

“He’s adorable.” You insisted, looking to JJ who was now only a foot away from you. You took a deep breath through your nose. He smelled like the ocean. He smelled like home.

JJ looked at you as you spoke, realizing now that your faces were not that far apart. Feeling flustered, he looked back at Apollo. You did the same, feeling embarrassed. JJ watched as Apollo looked at JJ, a smile on his face. Suddenly, it clicked. Apollo was trying to tell him something and he had been so blind by his lack of confidence to realize it.

With a surge of confidence, he looked back at you and said, “I’m actually going to the beach right now to surf. You surf?”

You made eye contact with JJ, smiling. “I live in Figure 8. Of course I do.”

JJ chuckled, nodding. “Well, Apollo really wants you to come.”

You looked to Apollo, who was wagging his tail because of all the petting he was receiving. “Apollo wants me to come?”

JJ shrugged. “And me.” He felt his cheeks burning and he hoped you couldn’t notice.

You looked at JJ, flustered. “Well, since he won’t leave without me, I’d love to come.”

JJ grinned, finally getting up from his crouch position. He extended his hand for you to grab. Once you did, he helped you up. Once you were standing, you looked back to Apollo. He was watching your hands hold each other and smiling. JJ shook his head, in disbelief. Apollo, the matchmaker. He would thank him later.

JJ didn’t let go of your hand and you didn’t want him to. Instead, you both walked towards the checkout, hand in hand, as Apollo walked beside you both. JJ couldn’t believe how much of his life had changed since Apollo came into his life. He was truly man’s best friend. He helped JJ get through the toughest part of his life and now he had given him what JJ was sure to be his wife. This dog continued to give JJ more love and JJ never knew if he could ever return the favour. As he watched Apollo follow beside you, wagging his tail, he realized that maybe JJ being happy was enough for Apollo. This is the best dog ever, JJ thought.

“So,” You started, looking at you and JJ’s hands intertwined. “What’s this guy's story?”

JJ looked at Apollo once again, smiling. “Do you have time?”

You nodded, butterflies in your stomach. “All the time in the world.”

JJ nodded, looking back to you as you spoke. “Good.” And so, JJ talked. About getting Apollo and all the crazy stories they had during the one year JJ had him.

And you listened, adding quick witted remarks here and there. You didn’t mind if JJ talked, you were sure that there would be more conversations between the two of you for many years to come.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Amalia pt.2

For @artsymeeshee​. Thank you so so much for being you and for always brightening up my day! Sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it.

pt.1

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dipper, come on! They’re ready!”

The thirteen-year-old boy quickly joined his sister on her bed, lying on their stomach so they could see the laptop comfortably. Yes, they texted their grunkles at least three times a day and constantly sent emails and usually got to have a video call once a week, but that didn't make their interactions any less exciting and enjoyable. Dipper and Mabel’s parents were busy working so the twins had the house to themselves and could talk freely.

The laptop ringed a few times and soon they were graced with two nearly identical faces with distinct differences, both smiling widely at the young teenagers. “Hey there, kiddos!”

“Hi, guys!” Mabel returned, waving and grinning. “Did you get my package, did you, did you, did you?!”

“Yes, I have it right here.” Ford chuckled warmly and placed the package on the dining room table, where the old men were located.

“Well go ahead and open it!” Mabel squealed and Stan used his pocket knife to cut through the tape and they opened the box to find a large, brand new knitted blanket.

“Oh, wow! Mabel, sweetie, this is… wow.” Stan admired with shining eyes as he pulled the blanket out of the box.

“This might be your best work yet, my dear!” Ford complimented as he grazed the yarn with his fingers. “It’s so soft, and how on Earth did you manage to make it so big?”

“Big knitting needles!”

“She used her arms to knit it, like she had it looped around her actual arms.” Dipper answered honestly with a small, proud smile while Mabel blushed furiously.

“That’s very impressive.” Ford said.

“I’ll say! It’s beautiful! I love it!” Stan wrapped it around his shoulders and hummed; he could distantly smell his niece’s shampoo and cheap strawberry perfume. “Thank you, pumpkin.”

“You’re welcome, I just don’t want you guys to be cold or freeze to death up there.”

“Mabel, for the millionth time, I swear we’re fine.” Stan assured, unable to keep the laughter in his throat down.

“I know, but as the professional knitter in the family, it is my sworn duty to ensure you two stay warm and cozy, despite the challenging environment!” She said victoriously with her hand pointing upward, like she was pretending there was a flag behind her or something. “Anywho, what’s new with you guys?”

“Oh, nothing out of the abnormal.” Ford said casually, rocking his hand side-to-side in a painfully casual manner. “Iceland was interesting, we’re planning on heading back up North shortly to make it to Gravity Falls in time for summer, but we have about a month to spend exploring the United Kingdom until we have to start our way back.”

“Great!” Dipper commented. “See anything cool in Iceland? Any mountain trolls?”

“No, no trolls.”

“Although we did see this big smelly guy in a bar that looked half-troll to me.” Stan added in.

“But… we…” Stan gave Ford a dark look, so the eldest twin corrected himself quickly. “I… I did something.”

“Oh boy, did you burn a hole into the counter again, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel guessed.

Ford chuckled warmly and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s… well, I’ll show you, hold on one minute.”

Dipper and Mabel watched one uncle get up and leave while the other held his head and rubbed his temples. “Grunkle Stan, what did he do?” Mabel asked.

“Something a certain pumpkin once did to me and I don’t appreciate it anymore now than I did before.” Stan mumbled.

Ford sat back down next to his twin, resulting in Mabel screaming and then quickly covering her mouth, her eyes wide and shining like stars. Dipper just stared, smiling, but mostly confused at the tiny furry thing on his grunkle’s chest. Ford couldn’t keep the dopey smile off his face as he petted the anomaly’s back and she licked his cleft chin. “This is Amalia.”

“OH MY GOSH, YOU GUYS!” Mabel squealed, making Amalia jump a little and start looking around the boat for whatever was causing the sudden noise. “She’s so cute! I didn’t know you guys were gonna get a pet!”

“Neither did we.” Ford chuckled as Amalia sat on the table, still looking around. “She came aboard in Iceland and never left. She’s quite gentle and well-trained, very well behaved.”

“She’s a cute, furry jerk.” Stan growled.

“Stanley’s just mad at her because she knocked over his favorite mug this morning.”

“Daw, she probably wanted your attention, Grunkle Stan.”

“Well, she has it now.” Stan sneered and pointed his fingers from his eyes to the pet, still curiously on the hunt for the mysterious noise.

“How interesting.” Dipper muttered with a smile. “Do you know what species she is?”

“Not quite sure.” Ford answered. “She has many cat-like behaviors, but obviously she’s more than some exotic breed of a domestic feline. I’ve run a few tests, simply playing games with her to test her intelligence and watching her through the day, but so far nothing too abnormal has come up.”

“Well, as much as she doesn’t look like any breed I know of, she might be a hybrid we’ve never seen before, a mixture of two breeds of cat. I could do some research to see if she resembles any cat breeds.” Dipper pulled out his cellphone while Amalia looked at the scream, her eyes big at the teenagers.

“She’s looking at us, she’s looking at us!” Mabel whispered excitedly. “Hi, Amalia! Hi! I’m gonna knit you a cute sweater, yes I am!” She cooed.

Amalia pawed at the laptop, getting closer to it, and eventually walking on the keys.

“OY! Get off!”

“Stanley, don’t hurt her!”

“She’s gonna…”

And suddenly Dipper and Mabel were faced with a blank screen, making them laugh and quickly send snarky text messages to the old sailors.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan’s eyes slowly opened, lying on his back, and therefore first seeing the ceiling of the bunker of his beloved boat. He was stiff; his whole body was stiff and his eyes were crusty and he wanted to go back to sleep, but his body had had enough of sleep and it was time to leave his bed for the day.

Taking in a sharp breath to brace himself for the pain of first moving his old back, Stan sat up and placed his feet in his slippers. He reached for his glasses, surprised to find a note by them. He slipped on his aid of vision and immediately recognized his brother’s neat cursive writing.

Stanley, We needed a few supplies and I felt like going on a small walk early this morning, so I left you alone to sleep. I’ll be back by lunch. Please look after Amalia while I’m gone. Stanford. 6:18am

Stan swore under his breath. Not only had Sixer probably not slept well, Stan was willing to bet money on it, he was stuck babysitting the stupid animal. Who, by the way, was playing with a fluffy ball on the floor, silently amusing herself and leaving Stan alone. Well, fine then. He could work with that.

The younger twin stood and slipped on his bathrobe over his pajamas, making his way upstairs for coffee and maybe some breakfast. The clock over the stove read two minutes before ten, so coffee should tie him over until lunchtime. Stan filled the machine with a filter and grounds and turned on the pot after filling it with water, but he was disturbed from his work when he heard tiny footsteps and saw Amalia climbing up the steps and walking up to him.

“Whatcha want?” He growled sleepily.

Amalia, of course, didn’t answer, but instead sat next to where Stan stood and rubbed against his bony legs, purring her strange purr; it wasn’t normal like a cat’s but there was no other way to explain the sound she made. Stan snorted.

As the coffee pot filled with the caffeinated breakfast beverage, Stan fished out an apple from the fridge and bit into it. Okay, a small snack would be okay. His eye caught the small stacks of canned tuna Ford had put there, claiming Amalia preferred her fish cold, and he shrugged and decided to go ahead and feed the weird thing so he wouldn’t have to get up from the couch to do it later. At the sound of the can opening the little cat-like beauty sprung up on the table and tapped the surface with her little beanie paws, a bad habit Ford had installed early because “Amalia is too lady-like to eat on the floor,” the aged scientist had cooed as he placed the can on the table and scratched his pet.

Stan rolled his eyes and decided not to fight it. He sat Amalia’s breakfast on the table and she happily indulged in the cold fish while Stan poured himself a mug of coffee. He watched the anomaly eat peacefully, her tiny face almost completely engulfed in the food. The old conman couldn’t help but smile as he sipped his black drink. “You’re quieter than the pig. I’ll give you that.”

Amalia sat up, a bit of damp food on her face, but she licked it off and then began to clean herself by licking her paw and rubbing her face. Stan accidentally found himself watching her as he sipped his coffee, a small smile on his wrinkly face.

Really, the main reason why he was being the bad guy was because someone had to be in this type of situation. Someone had to try to be reasonable, someone had to oppose a potentially bad idea, and with Stan’s tough-guy persona and Ford opting out of being the cold, realistic, mad-scientist in order to be a big marshmallow for a weird cat, Stan was the perfect candidate. With that being said, Stan reminded himself of an incident he was faced with over fifty years ago.

“Stanford, please!”

“Stanley, I’m sorry, but he’s a wild animal. Don't you think he’ll be happier out in nature? And what will Ma and Pa say?”

“They… They don’t have to know…”

“Stanley!”

“Sixer, please! C’mon! I’m begging you! I’ll do anything! Just please don’t rat me out!”

“Whoa, whoa. I’d never tattle on you, I… I won’t tell, but I really think you shouldn’t keep him as a pet.”

It was only a week, but by the time Stan re-introduced the animal as Shanklin the Stab-Possum, Ford’s appreciation for the strange pet was much stronger and he even used him to help free the Jersey Devil. Plus it was easy to keep the possum a secret when they were grounded in their room all summer. Ford never did tattle and he loved that possum almost as much as Stan loved Shanklin. So, okay, if a couple of weird nine-year-olds can have a possum for a pet, then a pair of eccentric old sailors can have an unknown cat for a pet.

Stan left the kitchen-area for the couch and pulled out a newspaper he had snagged yesterday to finish. He opened it with a rustle and sat comfortably, but not long did he feel something join him on his right side and then two little paws land on his leg. Stan lowered his reading material and raised an eyebrow at Amalia, who just looked at him with sparkling eyes. “What?”

Of course the anomaly didn’t answer, but she did climb across his legs for his lap and sat in a curled-up ball for a mid-morning nap. Stan sighed with a smile, scratched her behind the ear, and rescued his reading.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks later and the Stan O’ War was harbored at Ipswich, UK. Having traveled through the Irish Sea and around England, the ship was about to head up north, beginning the journey for home. But Mabel had given the twins another city to be in for another package, and so with Amalia in Ford’s hoodie and Stan holding two bags of groceries, they stopped by the post office and picked up their mail.

Cushioned in a new baby-blanket for Amalia were two small sweaters just perfect for the little anomaly. One was purple with a golden six-fingered hand and a golden crescent with each symbol having an ‘s added to it, and beneath all of this the word “pet” was stitched on in colorful letters. The second one was fluffy white with a baby-blue paw-print on it, each sweater big enough to not squeeze Amalia and with the designs on her back so the humans could see them easily.

While Amalia was never shivering or actively cold, Ford ignored Stan’s laugh-filled orders not to torture their pet and the fluffy-haired twin had Amalia try on the white sweater, who loved it so much she refused to let Ford take it off of her for a few hours. Stan, of course, had to end a picture to their niece, who may or may not have cried at the sight and at the caption her uncle sent it with, “Amalia loves Auntie Mabel’s sweaters.”

[flyonthewallmedstudent]

Watching House as a Physician.  Season 2 Episode 3. Infectious diseases & Respiratory.

Welcome to another episode of medicine done badly.  I’ve been watching House on Amazon prime.  Got the subscription during the pandemic, as like everyone else, I’ve garnered an online shopping habit now. 

Alright. In the opening scene a young roof worker falls off the roof presumably due to acute shortness of breath. i.e. trouble breathing. (why do we use the term shortness of breath? it’s the english version of the greek term dyspnoea - the actual preferred language of Western doctors. Fuck do I know why we like Greek and Latin so much. Moving on.) Then cut to Dr. Cuddy examining him in the back of the ambulance. 

This would never happen in real life. Yes you can be on the scene and handover to the paramedics or EMT when they arrive as a doctor. But they would take over. I personally wouldn’t have the balls to look after a patient in a different environment, different resources and field I’m not familiar with. You can have field Emergency docs - but requires different training. 

Also, ethically, you’re not meant to treat family or friends. Dr. Cuddy later in the episode gets a bit emotionally involved - this is why we don’t treat people close to us. We lose objectivity. We make mistakes. And you see later see Cuddy do some pretty bad ones. 

I feel like much of this episode is not really IM. THere’s less differential diagnoses being made. More side tracks into trauma, emergency, intensive care or vascular surgery. 

Anyhoo. Trauma and emergency would manage the fall and post fall traumatic injuries. And the trauma protocol was either not shown or completely off in this episode. Surgeons don’t seem to exist in House, at least not very much. Similarly, no other doctors exist except surgeons in Grey’s anatomy.  Also you can’t clear a C Spine clinically, which is what Dr. Cuddy does in the back of the ambulance. You’d need a CT first and clearance both radiological (by a radiologist) and a clinician. 

Aaaanddd, you can’t just listen to the chest and go no pneumothorax (air in lung or collapsed lung) - yes it’s reassuring, but again you’d need imaging to confirm this, given how serious a condition this is. It is realistic to consider in the setting of a fall, particularly if there are rib fractures that can puncture the lung.

Once the more critical injuries are managed, we would look after the IM side to things. 

So. Finally.. differential diagnoses.

Takes what seems and feels like days before they finally sit down and go through differentials. Really not much on that white board. Dark fingers, broken ribs, fever and lung infiltrates. Time line’s not clear on when he developed the fever.

Presenting complaint isn’t really addressed. It could be: - Dyspnoea, leading to the fall, he’s requiring O2 via nasal prongs, which suggests that he’s hypoxic (this is definitely odd in a young guy who’s normally very physical fit if he works as labourer). so much to unpack here, but they never get into this well.  Post fall, Cuddy notices his ring and pinky finger becoming dusky, which becomes very central in this episode. Very few things would cause this. pains me that they do no differentials on a white board for this alone. 

Then a lot of throwing around medical terms. 

PTT prolonged and Fibrinogen off. These are markers of your coagulation pathway and signs that you’re not forming the clots the way you should if you have an injury.  DIC is also thrown around. What is DIC? Disseminated intravascular coagulopathy. Certainly severe sepsis and trauma can cause this and lead to severe bleeding. It will throw off your coagulation pathways (things that stop bleeding). It’s not common. I’ve treated it once, while I was rotating in ICU, it is not standard ward medicine practice. Standard therapy is fresh frozen plasma (FFP) and even large metropolitan hospitals only have a limited supply. It’s a huge concern for surgery and post-op (as you patient will just not stop bleeding after you cut them open, and if not treated, potentially bleed to death). Cuddy mentions ARDS. Acute respiratory distress syndrome, it could be a complication, but it’s not a cause. Again, falls more into the realm of critical care (a la ICU). However, patient had SOB prior to the fall. Finally HOuse makes the observation. of “what if he was sick before he had his run in with gravity...” Everyone jumps to Pneumonia. And this is where it gets confusing.  If he was unwell, the minute he entered the emergency department with a fever and hypoxia, they would have worked him up for any garden variety pneumonia, bacterial or viral. Cultures would have been sent and imaging. Any young hypoxic patient would prompt a closer look at the chest. And no one waits that long to start antibiotics - “sepsis kills” is a slogan often used around hospitals. You have to initiate empirical therapy within 30 mins, to reduce mortality and morbiditiy. 

Ordering an Echocardiogram (USS of the Heart) also makes no sense in the context of a lung infection. I would order one, but not to look at the lungs.

Then there’s the most unrealistic thing about this series. Doctors breaking into patient homes.

It is however, a good way to showcase social history. It’d be boring to watch a doctor ask the patient outright about their living situation etc, but it’s far more interesting to see exactly how they live. We try as much as possible to illustrate to each other and ourselves what the living environment and working environment of our patients are like. 

In the context of infection, a good social history can point out exposure. As they exemplify by showing dead rodents and mould. This leads to 2 further differentials: Rat bite fever (caused by streptobacillus, something you’d see in the US, but probably not anywhere else), it’s an unrealistic differential in general. And the 2nd is aspergillosis.  Okay..  So aspergillus is a mould commonly found in our environment. In fact it’s everywhere around us. 

THere’s few times when it’s an issue.  It is a concern in respiratory syndromes like asthma or bronchiectasis. And also as an opportunistic infection in immunocompromised individuals. in the context of asthma, it’s not so much the aspergillus itself that causes issue, it’s our body’s over reaction. It’s a hypersensitivity issue that causes inflammation in the lungs or a pneumonitis. We even gave it a name. Allergic bronchopulmonary aspergillosis. It’s still badness, but it doesn’t happen that quickly. We also have specific tests for this, which were obviously not considered in this episode of medicine done badly. In the immunocompromised host (steroid therapy in transplant patients or those on chemo, etc.), you can get the invasive mould as an opportunistic infection.  I don’t really understand why they think it would be the case here. Also, killing the bug with heavy duty anti fungals will only give more issues rather than do anything. They start him on amphotericin. this is not standard practice.  And now it flips to why amphotericin is not standard practice or first line treatment for invasive aspergillosis. The patient has now become anuric (not making any urine). (First line drug by the way is voraconazole, superior efficacy in trials with a lower mortality rate and ADRs) Also, note that they have just jumped straight to dire renal failure from the amphotericin. No work up. That said, heavy drugs like amphotericin are often a cause, but  It’s often temporary with the appropriate supportive measures (stop insulting agents, give hydration, monitor fluid balance), reversible, even if you require temporary dialysis or haemofiltration. Anyways, would get into AKI another day, that’s a whole other post in and of itself.  Then his hand is apparently “dying.” There’s pain on light touch, but it’s not a cold, pulseless limb. Or discoloured. doesn’t add up. This now enters vascular surgeon territory. Again. It’s interesting that there’s never any referrals to any other teams. If he has good circulation, I would imagine they would try to save the hand and consider other differentials. 

The only time I can think of an emergency amputation in this situation is necrotising fascitiis. That’s the only thing that would occur that rapidly  AND necessitate losing tissue or limb.  With a young person who’s this ill, there’s often multiple subspecialties involved by this point. I’m also surprised he’s not in ICU.

Then there’s a buncha filler scenes of the cast of house getting emotional. Ho my god, they’ve taken the hand of a young 20 something physical labourer. Indeed, this is badness. Unlike House, we actually are trained to always consider how a patient’s illness impacts their activities of daily living and livelihood. 

I find the general population assumes that we practice medicine in a vacuum, we merely treat the clinical illness and ignore everything else. They imagine that we all must be like house. 

Actually we try to put things in perspective as much as possible and knowing our limitations in this area, we often enlist the help of friends - physiotherapists, occupational therapists and social workers. They never exist on TV or on the movies. Ever. Unless it’s to portray how terrible it is to be a social worker.  From time to time in this episode, Cuddy laments that being chief of medicine is too administrative and she hasn’t been a doctor in years. That also doesn’t happen in real life. If you’re chief you’re still a doctor. You have admin shit to do deal with yes, but you still practice. It’s like being chief resident, in all the TV shows with one of these, you still seem them working as residents, be it scrubs or grey’s anatomy. 

Back to the differential. They finally get to endocarditis. Culture negative to be precise. That indeed would explain the bilateral dusky fingers that led to unnecessary amputation. Septic emboli. 

Going to stop here, more out of exhaustion now. I’ve created quite a lengthy post. Happy to reblog thoughts on culture negative endocarditis on request later. This is a worthy topic to study up on for students or residents. At least review Duke’s criteria and think about your clinical features like Roth Spots and Janeway lesions or Ouch Osler’s nodes. 

The ending is also a far fetched connection to make, but is one that we would consider. In fact, we would ask in detail every time from day one - have you had any exposure to animals. It’s very rare to see someone so young be that sick out of the blue when you’re immunocompetent and have no underlying predisposing conditions. If there’s no focal source, then we would even ask about injectable recreational drugs, exotic travels, sexual health. 

Most of the time, patients that sick are honest to their doctors. 

But what about..

Frankly, much as we lie as humans, when our lives our on the line, we’re generally pretty honest (sometimes too honest) with the people we want to save us. 

Any patient who is young and comes to hospital requiring inpatient admission, they’d be investigated by subspecialties with expertise in certain areas such as infectious disease. The dept of infectious disease would either be home team, or all over this patient as they special in the realm of both common and rare infectious diseases, culture negative endocarditis would have been considered before a hand amputation.

The term, “department of diagnostic medicine is laughable,” particularly when they consider it the only department in the world in the show. 

In actuality, it’s a department that is universal and exists everywhere. it’s Internal medicine. Dr. Vivek Murthy, the next surgeon general (and also the last one under Obama) is an internal medicine physician. Ken Jeong of Community and the Hangover fame is also a physician of internal medicine. 

Beginning to get the sense that most episodes are going to end with a diagnosis that is either infectious disease, rheumatology or haematology. But generally those tend to be most interesting and give the most plot twists or meaty differentials V.s. a stroke or acute myocardial infarction is fairly straightforward to diagnose. 

This is a very twisty episode in all the wrong directions. 

Dyspnoea is a very common presenting complaint. There’s a properly done approach to this in the podcast by the Curbsiders by the way. 

[silvia7272]

5 ~ One More New Amigo

So, after a long thought, I think Rosina meeting some other people could be good, plus I might bring some pictures I’ve drawn as well. Also, as a quick note, I hope you know I don’t actually hate any of the characters but writing Spite/Salt Fics are so fun and I love it. Alya is, in fact, my favourite character for personal reasons.

My biggest inspiration for Rosina is Goku from Dragon Ball Z, Sonia Nevermind from Danganronpa 2 and a bit of Ziva David from NCIS, although I watched that when I was a lot younger so I may not remember her that well.

Word Count: 3221

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @daminett4life, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say.

.

I can’t remember but now Marinette’s place has a café in their bakery and that’s final, can’t be bothered to check.

***

It had been a week since the dubbed Ice Queens had become friends as everyone had put it. They must’ve been friends since they were little, they reasoned with themselves, there was no way anyone could become friends with Chloé in an evening.

No way.

Marinette had lied to them.

But they just had to get Rosina out of that toxic environment, she really was sweet and oblivious to those girls.

So, they were always scheming new ways to let Rosina see just what the really were like.

But it always made them become closer.

That field trip to Le Jardín Du Luxembourg? They became friends with Chloé.

Leaving them stranded there? They came back on a flying skateboard! Alya was devastated she couldn’t record in time, and whenever they asked Rosina if they could see it, they were denied & pushed away by the Ice Queen’s.

It sooo wasn’t fair, they were only trying to help Rosina. They just wanted to help and pull her away from the evilness the two radiated. But they were the bad guys?

No way.

But what broke their heart the most was seeing Lila’s painstakingly sad face every time their plan failed. Because it was if they had failed her, their best friend, their Class President.

So, they were determined to save their friend.

But that couldn’t take up their whole day, if it did, they would become obsessed and that wouldn't be healthy either.

So, they continued with activities and classes, until Mlle Bustier made an announcement.

***

“Now class I have an announcement, since two of our students so kindly suggested and even organised this little event themselves, so if you’d like to explain what it is to the class?” She pointed to the two people in her front row.

“I hope you all listen to their wonderful event they provided for them, now I’ll be off since it is lunch so you all best behave.” That last sentence was aimed towards the two girls at the back. Chloé had rudely announced she would be sitting with the other girls at the back, there was a reason there were only *two people per desks.

‘How irresponsible’ The blue-haired girl thought.

Adrien and Lila walked up to the teacher's desk as the others waited in suspense.

“Monsieur D’Argencourt said we were going to have a beginners fencing lesson for the whole school, and everyone from our Team is going to help out”

“I was the one to suggest and organise everything, Adrien was far too busy and asked for the best help he could get. We wanted this to be a surprise, I hope you’ll enjoy it” The whole class erupted in glee, Adrien didn’t care about the little lie she had made up, after all, he was taking the high road.

Although a certain redhead from the back couldn’t contain her excitement.

“You mean you’ve been on a fencing Team all this time and didn’t tell me, oh Sir I challenge you to a duel.” A glove flew across the room landing on Adrien’s cheek, everyone was speechless aside from a blonde who was on the floor laughing too much from what she just bare witnessed to.

Surprisingly Adrien was the first one to recover.

“Maybe you could warn me before you challenge me Rosina, but I accept”

“Adrien are you ok, oh my, your cheeks are red” Chloé was still laughing, but Adrien didn’t care.

“I’m fine, it’s a tradition in for duels anyway.”

Kim couldn’t help the smile as he thought of a suggestion.

“I’ve got an idea for a bet” They all groaned.

“Kim, I thought we said no more bets?”

“Hey! This one's good, and besides its not me who would do it” They all fell silent, waiting for him to explain.

“If Adrien wins then Rosina should stay with us. And then you can see just how bad they are and realise we are right Rosina” The others smirked, this was brilliant, Adrien was the best fencer here, and no offence to Rosina, but she didn’t seem that talented in that activity.

Before Rosina could add to that challenge Chloé spoke for her.

“We accept those terms, but when she wins you all have to back off and leave our friend alone” Adrien only wanted to have a friendly duel, not a gambling match.

“I-I don’t know guys; I don’t think that’s fa-” But he was cut off.

“Adrien how could you say that! You’re the only one who can do this, you wouldn’t want to let your friends down? Would you?” He paled, that thought terrified him. He took in the rest of the classes faces, they held disappointment, so much disappointment.

“Fine I’ll do it”

“Hooray, I can’t wait to see you in action Adrien” She kissed his cheek as they all left for lunch.

Adrien lingered for a second before catching up with them.

“Chloé what the hell you can’t just decide for her” Marinette was angry, that wasn’t fair to their red-haired friend. But more than being angry…

She was afraid.

“Its fine Marinette, she’s Crisono Tassa after all. Besides, it's not as if this bet could mean anything, you’ll stay with us right Rosina?” Rosina smiled at that.

“Of course I will Chloé, I love you two so much, I would never leave my besties. Which is why I won’t lose, I promise”

“You better, please.” Marinette looked sad, she didn’t want to lose a friend.

“Don’t worry Marinette, I’m the best fencer around here, so no need to worry, now let’s eat”

‘…I hope Kagami doesn’t hear that’

***

“I am the fencing Master Monsieur D’Argencourt, and with great pleasure, I’m here today to announce our fencing practice commences immediately” Everyone was split into groups since there were more classmates than fencers.

Marinette glanced and waved when she saw Kagami. She was about to walk over to her.

“Marinette, where’s Rosina?” Sadly, Alya interrupted her.

“She went home, considering she needed to get her own blade and armour, since she only uses her own”

“Tsk tsk Marinette it's actually called a Sabre, maybe you should fact check next time?” A jab was sent here way by the liar.

“Actually, depending which on weapon, there are three names Foil, Épée and Sabre, next time you should get your facts straight.” Kagami. Her glare was so intimidating it stopped Alya from commenting.

“I’m baaaaaaaaaack, hey guys, oh hi there, wow your cold icy stare is so cool and your freckles compliment you so much.” Kagami stood confused. Did- did this random girl compliment her out of nowhere?

“Kagami this is Rosina, Rosina this is Kagami my friend” Kagami cleared her throat to stick her hand out but it wasn’t needed when she felt arms wrap around her.

“Wow, it's so nice to meet another of Marinette’s friends, oh I’m sorry I hope I didn’t overstep a boundary, my Aunt told me about social boundaries beforehand. I’m so sorry”

“It's fine, your personality seems honest, creative, out-going, stubborn and overly eager which typically matches-”

“Ok that’s enough Kagami, can you help me put the equipment on?” Kagami was brutal enough with words already, Marinette didn’t want Rosina to be scared off as well.

“Wow, you got all of that from me, that’s so impressive, what’s my **Blood Type? And yours? If I had to make a guess ermmmm Type O?”

She blinked.

And again.

“I’ve only known Rosina for five minutes but if anything were to happen to her I would kill everyone here and then myself”

‘Where have I heard of that?’

“Erm Kagami, don’t you think you’re being a bit hasty?” She turned to Marinette with an intense stare.

“…Everyone.”

Dear Lord, she was serious.

“What is going on here? ***Thou are meant to be fencing not talking. Vitesse!” A familiar blond-haired boy came over.

“Ready Rosina?” He greeted her.

“Ready as I’ll ever be Adrian” She responded. They all sat in the stands, Alya recording and cheering for Adrien with the majority of the class. Marinette, Chloé and Kagami cheering, or internally thinking, for Rosina.

D’Argencourt was told to officiate beforehand and was eager to see if she was worthy to fight his best student, Adrien.

“En-Garde” They stood in the stance.

“Pret! Allez!”

Whoosh.

Not even a second went by before Adrien was down with a Sabre on his stomach.

“That was so fun, we should do that again Adrian” She offered her hand out to him, oblivious to everyone's faces.

“How- what- I- what just happened girl?” The first to get out of her state of shock was Alya.

“Hmm? I said I liked fencing, didn’t I?”

“But you were like inhuman out there. Why didn’t you tell us you were a pro? Keeping those secrets from us, would you like to tell us?” She lightly jabbed her elbow at the girl while she was still confused.

“You never ask-”

“Ahem, I believe we had a deal Césaire, you and the rest of the class have to back off like we promised” Alya was irritated.

“That’s not fair, we didn’t know she was a pro!”

“That doesn’t matter, you still agreed to it and since Adrien did lose you lose too, now get lost” She waved her hand in a dismissive motion before taking Rosina away.

“Rosina is her own person and should have a right to choose where she goes, are you trying to suggest she’s property?” A smug look entered Lila’s face.

“You can’t be serious right?” This time it was Marinette who stepped in.

“And just what do you mean by that?” Alix asks. She was disappointed with how much Marinette had changed.

“If Adrien had won you lot wouldn’t have had a problem with forcing her to be away from us, wouldn’t that sound as if she were property to you?” She loved being able to turn words against Lila, remembering each and every word that liar and the rest of her class had said was easy, too easy sometimes.

“It's only because we know how much of a bad influence you two can be on her, she’s so happy and I would love nothing more than for her to continue being like that around some much more politer people.” Lila had a remark to everything, one step ahead? No Marinette wouldn’t think that. No, that requires having to plan ahead in case something happened.

“Then why don’t we just ask her who she wants to hang out with?”

“Fine we will, just don’t be disappointed when your Trio becomes Dos”

“Keep telling yourself that loser” Their glaring contest ended as they turned to where Rosina was meant to be.

“Rosina you wouldn’t leave your best friends for these utterly useless people, right? Wait, where is she?” They looked around to find she was gone.

“Abstain!” They turned to see two fencers in front of D’Argencourt.

“Rosina and Kagami? When did they get there?” Bewildered, they watched when Rosina flipped through the air to dodge the touch.

“They left after you all argued, Kagami challenged her and she accepted, Monsieur D’Argencourt was eager to referee” Adrien explained, seeing the female fencers clash against each other truly was a sight to see.

‘She’s never fought me like that? I wonder why?’

“HAAAH!” Kagami lunged towards Rosina but was able to block it.

“Impressive Knave” Kagami then had to obstruct an incoming attack.

“I’ve been practising since I could walk”

“Oh really, then how about we get serious here?” Exchanging blows stopped and they jumped back and stood in their own stance.

“What are they doing? Why’d they stop?” A confused Kim asked.

“They are biding their time, waiting for the other to strike first, because this isn’t a timed match theoretically, they’ll have all the time in the world,” Max answered for everyone else.

All was still around the two, nothing else mattered but winning.

The blue-haired girl lunged first. And it almost looked like she was about to land a hit.

Almost.

“Attack, push point” The point had belonged to the silver-eyed girl.

“Wow that sure was a great workout” She stretched before doing some acrobatics across the mat.

All the while Kagami was still gaining her breath back, that match certainly took a toll on her, and yet Rosina was still as energetic as she had been, where did that leave her?

She had been the best wherever she went, she had to honour her families name, she had won all of her battles, the first one with Adrien was a tie.

So why did she lose?

“Hey Kagami, that was amazing, I’ve never seen anyone be able to compete with me before. Can we please please please fence some more, that was sooo much fun?” Kagami tried to see if there were any fictitious motives hidden in her eyes, if the minute she let her guard down she would be ridiculed by her. But there was nothing, just a happy gleam in her eyes as she continued asking questions while holding out her hand.

“Of course, I look forward to testing your skills.” They would’ve continued their talk, but they heard someone call out to them.

“That was amazing, your skills for your age are truly fantastique, you must tell me who your last Master was?” D’Argencourt was in awe of the girl’s skill.

“Oh, really thanks so much mister, my Aunty tells me I still have a lot to improve.”

“A lot to improve? Well, I’m sure we could help you with that. This was meant to be an event to show my pupils off, however, for the first time, I’m offering you Rosina…?”

“Scoats”

“Rosina Scoats, a place on my fencing Team, do you accept?” If you couldn’t tell she was happy, then clearly you were blind.

She was ecstatic.

“Yes, yes yes, of course, I want to spend more time with Kagami. Oh, Aunty will be so glad I have a club to attend. I’ve read so much about after school clubs.”

“Great, lessons are after school, every Monday, Tuesday and Friday for an hour. You’ll be given a uniform unless you want to use your own like Kagami here. But for now, lessons are over, I hope everyone had an exceptional time here.”

“Really? Great, then I’ll continue wearing this outfit, my Aunty made it specially.”

“You’re Aunt makes clothes?” That fact reminded her of the bluenette.

“Yep just like Mari. Ohhhhh~ maybe they could design together?”

“I doubt that” Marinette muttered under her breath still remembering her first meeting with her.

“Kagami would you like to go out for cakes, we can visit the bakery I live at, it's really close by?” Kagami grew perplexed.

“You live with Marinette?” She rubbed the back of her head.

“It’s a long story, I can tell you on the way if you want?” Kagami nodded, she wouldn’t be too far away from her Mother, if anything they could sit on the stairs of Dupont if her Mother wanted to.

“Oh wait, I have to get my other friends” For whatever reason the class held a smug look on their faces, mainly Alya and Lila.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you Rosi-” She walked straight past them.

“Mari, Chlo, wanna come too?” They nodded, and as they left Chloé looked back making a face.

“Told you, next time you want to lie, don’t do it about Rosina” Marinette gently nudged the blonde before they all left.

Overall to Rosina it was a great experience.

She got to see everything again through the Ladyblog after all.

***

“Really, but you’re so nice to each other. I can’t believe you didn’t like each other before” Rosina exclaimed while chewing on her croissant. They were able to stay in the bakery to their relief, but they were on a time limit.

“Believe it or not but we were all Adrien crazy, somehow that blond held a special place in my heart before ehem, you know who joined,” Marinette replied, drinking some juice, she could eat as many pastries as she could, what was the rush?

“And I can’t believe you’re still friends with him? Aren’t you angry at what he’s done to us, to Marinette?” Chloé remarked. The blue-haired girls gave her a stare while Rosina tried to steal a macaroon from Marinette’s plate.

She was caught.

“I had been friends with Adrien long before Marinette, just because I’ve changed my target doesn’t mean I still don’t care for him. Besides, I don’t exactly want to leave him alone with a Father like his” They all, minus the redhead, shivered.

“Ok, that might be understandable, I may not like him but even I wouldn’t wish anyone that kind of life” It didn’t matter which of the girls said it, they both thought it.

“Who?”

“Oh right, you’ve never had the pleasure of knowing Gabriel Agreste”

“Who?”

“He’s Adrien’s Dad and a famous fashion designer. He never lets him out of the house except for school, photoshoots and fencing lessons. He doesn’t even allow his friends to come over and visit” Chloé listed everything she could remember about that man and paused to see Rosina take an excruciating long slip of her drink before setting it down.

“Wh-”

“If you say who again I will take your sweets!” Marinette was annoyed at her repetitive singular question before she sent a sheepish smile her way.

“Duly noted”

“He’s all alone in that house, I don’t want to him to be alone outside” Rosina’s eyes sparkled with glee.

“Wow, you’re so nice Kagami. And I don’t think its that bad, he hasn’t exactly done anything to you, I mean I know we’re all friends, but I guess we can’t force someone to stop their friendship with someone else right? I mean I don’t really know but I-”

“We get it, Rosina, you can stop you’re rambling it's getting annoying”

“Chloé!” Marinette had a long way to go before Chloé would be deemed ‘nice’

“Its fine Mari, sometimes I tend to keep talking until someone stops me or Aunty hits me on the head” She laughed to try and ease the tension, but it didn’t appear to work.

She was about to say something else, maybe they could plan to do something over the weekend, or maybe finally have a sleepover, she’s always wanted to do one of them.

But they heard the door open, and since Rosina and Kagami weren’t facing the door they were puzzled as to why they were stunned.

“Rosina Scoats” At her name being called out she immediately turned around. She saw a woman with blue hair with a slight twinge of red with glasses in a suit standing behind her, and she was holding something.

A tablet with a man who held a stern face, it almost made Rosina become nervous.

But she didn’t know what that word meant.

“Yes? That’s me, how can I help you?” She chirpily asked, she felt a kick to her leg but her smile never faltered.

“I would like to propose an idea, I would like to discuss it further at the Agreste household, if we may?” They both awaited her answer.

She didn’t think she’d meet the man they were just talking about so soon.

***

That’s it, are you happy with it? I thought it would be good to get Gabriel and Nathalie in there, is there anything else you want me to add? Or any outfits you want me to draw. I might draw her in her fencing gear if you want, but I’m not sure how to change it so it feels a bit unique? I have a few ideas, but feel free to suggest anything, I’m always free to ideas.

Why do you think Gabriel wants to talk to her?

Let’s hope it's not anything bad.

Are there any prompts you want me to write with or without Rosina? Please let me know.

Hope you like it and have a nice Day/Night.

*Dupont Seating Plan ~ I always had beef with this because my desks at school were tiny so only 2 people could sit there, but on this show, it makes me think they can only have two students there because of course there's no room. Our school would’ve made 4 people sit there at least.

**Blood Types ~ All the sources keep telling me different things, but I think she has either A or B.

***D’Argencourt ~ Might need some help writing him in character, very unsure about him.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #355

“despite all my rage, i am still just a rat in a cage”

Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? No, only as a kid. What kind of pizza toppings do you like? Meats or jalapenos. When did you first take a shot of alcohol? Never, and I'm not interested. Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No. Who is your favorite band? How long have they been? Ozzy Osbourne, since middle school. Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? My old house, yes. Not the one I currently live in. Have you ever been to a spa? Only because my friend at the time took me. When talking on the phone, do you place it against your left or right ear? My right. What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? The nachos one. Do you like Bob Marley? NO. Omg his voice is awful. Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Yeah. I'm not a big fan. Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family? We only ever do that if my sister is over (she comes for dinner once a week). Are you listening to any music right now? If so, what are you listening to? Yeah, Violet Orlandi's cover of "Bullet With Butterfly Wings" by The Smashing Pumpkins. God she's so beautiful and talented and asdfjkaljddkfjlwkee FUCK I'm gay for her. Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile? Watching Mark. :') Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? Yeah. Do you like men who have a sensitive side? Yes. Please be in touch with your emotions, for the love of God. Have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist? Not persistently, no, but Mini is a case where me mentioning them enough got her to listen to them. Metallica, by the way. They're her favorite band because of mwah, haha. Have you ever carved you and someone else’s initials into a tree? It's possible, but I don't believe so. Do you like Dairy Queen? Love it. They're Oreo Cupfection thing is BOMB. Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story? Yes. I have a friend Shannen who first was a widely-recognized photographer in the state, and now she's a fashion designer (or something like that) up in New York. Is there a song in a different language that you can sing? A number of Rammstein songs. How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts? So long they're well-made for safety reasons, I don't care much. They do seem a bit unnecessary, though; like just look at James Hetfield's accident that burned half his body because of standing in the wrong place. It seems easy to fuck up and get in a dangerous range. Ever fallen down a hole? No. Do you like bananas? Yeah. How long do you normally spend in the shower? Not even 10 minutes, usually. I've never understood how people can take such long showers. Have you ever been a featured member on any website? Yeah, on a Silent Hill fansite. Have you ever had any weird pets? Not by my standards. A ball python morph is as "weird" as it gets. Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone? Nope. Have you ever experienced insomnia? Ugh, yes. I went through a horrible insomnia spell, and I still have an awful time trying to fall asleep. Do you like egg nog? Nooo. Would you ever wear Converse with a prom/formal dress? I'm not opposed to it, but realistically I'd probably wear something more traditionally suiting just because. Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows? Without. How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over? I've cried all the oceans over just one lol. Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? Being a mortician actually doesn't sound awful, weird as it sounds. It sounds almost relaxing if I could just be alone with some music doing my job. Would rather be a musician or a painter? A painter. Would you rather write your own book or make your own movie? I'd love to write a book. At home, do you have a trampoline? No. When you are about to go to bed, do you put on some sort of noise? No. What is your favorite Christmas movie? Jim Carrey's How The Grinch Stole Christmas. And what about your favorite Christmas song? Probably "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" or whatever it's called. "Carol of the Bells" too, of course. What is your ultimate favorite stocking stuffer? Haha, okay so it seems to be an unspoken rule that Mom always gets us Slim Jims for our stockings, and that's obviously the best considering my sisters and I loooove them yet still don't buy them much. You're making me ready for Christmas, lol. After Halloween, do you sort out all of your candy into little piles? I did as a kid, and then my sisters and I would trade what we preferred. When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it? It's honestly pretty loud. What did you have for breakfast this morning? Cold pizza from dinner leftovers last night. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Our late boxer mix, Cali. She was a big 'ole pup. Do you own any kind of helmet? No. Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite? Food: strawberries. Drink: Mountain Lightning. What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Either when I skinned my knees so deep that pus was visible, or when I fainted onto my chin and got a short, but very deep cut. Do you like the taste of cough syrup? No. What is something you like to have conversations about? I like talking about deep stuff, like where we came from, our unique feelings and beliefs, conspiracy theories and cryptids, mysterious stuff like that, too. And don't forget animals. And Mark, haha. What all is in the trunk of your car? I don't have a car, and I don't remember what's in Mom's trunk, even though I helped bring in groceries just the other day. Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? Ew, no. Is your heat or air conditioning currently on? Our AC is currently on because it's too damn hot. The weather here has been so up and down, it's wild. Have you ever fallen off of a horse? No. Which do you value more, your appearance or your intelligence? Honestly? I'd be dumber than I already am if it meant being happy with how I look, because my appearance now is a key factor to my depression. When was the last time you drove something other than a car or truck? Oh jeez... I have no idea. I don't think since I've driven a golf cart at someone's b-day party as a kid. Were your grandparents present when you were born? No. If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things? I don't smoke, and I only have a drink or two very rarely, usually just on special occasions. What do you think of fast food? I like it way more than I wish I did. What website do you spend the most time on and why? YouTube, because I'm always listening to and/or watching something. What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you? In one non-stop setting, I don't want to know. I pretty much only exist on the computer. When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Mountainous, loads of nature, cooler/cold, mysterious locations... stuff like that. Do you think humans colonizing Mars is a good idea? Would you go, if you could? If we learn from our goddamn mistakes and not fuck up its environment, it could be healthy or even life-saving for humanity, but I'd prefer to stay on Earth as long as possible. What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it? I dunno, maybe at Disney World or something like that as a kid. What is something important that’s often on your mind lately? Physical health stuff. I'm worried about a lot of things relating to that. What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it? I don't know about "unimportant," at least to me. Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it? Yeah. I only really eat the cinnamon apple ones; I always use milk and sprinkle some sugar in there, and it's delicious. What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic? When Mom and I stopped at Jason's house to bring the family some treats following his mother's death. I stayed in the car and couldn't even look towards the house, but yeah. So many memories just stampeded me. How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything? I pay zero attention to it; I don't believe they have influence over people in any way. What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? I guess you could say World of Warcraft. It's definitely the most involved, like I've been playing it almost consistently since 2014, and I used to be in a Heroic raid team, which certainly wasn't easy. Then there's some achievements I busted my ass to get. Which accent do you find most sexy, alluring or appealing? British is where it's at. Which accent do you find most annoying, disturbing, or bothersome? Extremely Southern ones. Can you cry on cue? Is it any kind of useful? No. Does it take you a while to actually get jokes? Embarrassingly, it frequently does. Can you wear socks to bed or does it annoy you? Ugh, I could never. I hate the feeling of socks. Have you ever bleached your hair? By myself, no, but a professional has to dye it. Do you like jelly beans? They're okay. It really depends on the flavor, and even then I can't eat a lot of them. Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s storming? Yes, but not because it scares me, but rather that I'm just jumpy. Subtle thunder isn't so bad, and I LOVE the drone of heavy rain, but once you add booming thunder and strong flashes of lightning, it's too disruptive for me to fall asleep easily. Who was the last person you know that graduated? (high school or college) My not-so-little sister is just about to finish her Master's lakdsjfakwe I'm so proud of her. Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming? I think I was always kinda bummed out, even though I liked my babysitters. I had horrible separation anxiety from my mom. Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? No, but I did have this one guy who'd been like obsessed with me since pre-k and would always chase me to hug and kiss me. In pre-k it was awful, but he still did it sometimes in kindergarten, despite the teachers getting on him about it. It's actually a memory I forgot for a very long time, like I think my brain tried to oppress it, and I wonder if it has anything to do with my fear of people standing behind me, men specifically, and being raped. Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series? Oh yes, I was obsessed! Who was your best friend in elementary school? It jumped between Brianna, Kim, and Quiata. Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies? YESSSSS. I even had the computer game. Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. I'd put them on my dresser everywhere to the point it was absolutely covered. Did you get an allowance? No. Not because my parents didn't want to or anything, but rather they couldn't afford allowances to three kids. Were you into American Girl dolls? Nah. I got one, but I think it was mostly so my sisters and I each had our own. Nicole, however, was sooooo into them. Were you friends with your childhood neighbors? Some, yeah, especially the boy down my street named D'Andre. We would hang out ALL the time, be it at each other's houses or just riding our bikes. He actually got married very recently and I'm so happy for him, ahhhhh!! What was your biggest fear when you were a kid? Thunderstorms. Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games? Oh my god, YES. The one where you were hosting a surprise birthday party was my absolute favorite. Did your parents let you drink soda growing up? Yes. .-. What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? Chocolate, of course.

[darling-archeron]

Beneath the Dark - Chapter Six

What would have happened if Feyre had come to Prythian much earlier? Feyre Archeron has left her mortal life behind, and accepted being demi-fae. She has found her place in the Night Court's Inner Circle. But when her and Rhys attend a ball hosted by Amarantha Under the Mountain, they are in for much more than they bargained for.

A huge thanks to @theleadcinnabon for helping beta this chapter and story!! <33

-

Three weeks had passed since we had been trapped here. Three infinitely long, dark weeks. Some days passed by as slowly as watching shadows shift. Others seemed gone in a blink.

 Amarantha had been toying with Calder all week while everyone else watched helplessly. Some of his family had tried to heal him, tried to get her to stop, but to no avail. Not only were his healing abilities weakened by losing his magic, but some damage wasn’t meant to be survived. That was the kind of damage The Deceiver knew to inflict. Not to mention that she didn’t take kindly to anyone trying to steal her entertainment. But yesterday it had finally ended, as he had gasped his last breaths out, the color of his blood only a bit darker than the red marble floor. It seemed that even his enemies felt some shade of remorse. They had hated him, yes, but...not like this. 

Jurian’s eye had gone wild inside her ring as if reminded of his own execution. Indeed, it wasn’t the noble death of a High Lord as I would have hoped – it had been a welcome, sad thing. An older High Fae was High Lord of Winter now, his eyes serious by the burden laid upon him. I hadn't yet spoken to him. I would wait, see what sort of leader he turned out to be.

But in the time since we had first been trapped, some semblance of normalcy had begun to knit itself together. We had all begun to get a feel for the central part of the mountain and the passageways it contained – though the tunnels and catacombs far below were still a mystery. Amarantha had even been halfway agreeable when you considered that she hadn't ordered any more mass murders. The week prior, she had commanded the High Lords to find out what their High Fae needed so she could have it shipped over. Of course, requests of the lesser fae were ignored. Yet, among the most requested goods were fabrics, spices, and various other precious items. As if finery and riches would save us, improve this false court in any way. She had even left a few, though not all, requests for weapons slide by, though I knew it was nothing but a taunt.

Rhys was scarce these days, and I could never decipher where he had slipped off to. I caught glimpses of him at the nightly revels and around the halls, but we had exchanged few words over the bargain bond, and even fewer face-to-face.

I would have been lying if I said his ignoring didn’t sting a bit, even if I knew why it was. In the absence of him and his orders, I made it my mission to learn everything I could about the inhabitants of the Mountain and its layout. Gathering any bit of little information that could help me get Rhys, Nuala, and Cerridwen out.

As it was now, the afternoon was drawing to a close, and I found myself standing in a cavernous room, speaking with males who thought themselves better than me as I held a glass of wine in my hand.

A common occurrence these days. Somehow, nobody had lost their taste for alcohol despite the catastrophic curse it had laid on us.

This time, the males were High Lord Nostrus, who seemed to have the interests of his people at heart, and though he was intelligent, was also weak-willed, and his much younger cousin, Tarquin. Beron had also inserted himself into the conversation and was my least favorite to deal with. Misogynistic and cruel, I would never forgive him for what he had done to Mor.

“Truth be told, Nostrus, I can’t see why any of the Courts should consider consolidating their resources. Maybe Summer is weakened, but Autumn doesn’t need to lean on anyone else.” Beron replied.

“That may be true now, but what about in forty years? Not just for us, but for our people. Our trading with the continent has been seriously impacted by recent events.” Tarquin interjected, ever eager to help.

“Tarquin has a point, but I can’t be convinced that the Courts should consolidate completely, Nostrus. But there’s no reason we shouldn’t plan for it in the future.” I pointed out.

Nostrus looked irritated but stayed silent. It was Beron who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“And who invited you to participate in this, Lady Valspian?” Beron jabbed.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Are you going to pick a fight with me, Beron? As Lord Nostrus pointed out, we are all in this together. Perhaps when the time comes, you wouldn't be so quick to shun what Night offers.” I fought to keep the bitter edge mostly out of my voice. Beron was cut off from responding by Tarquin gesturing to behind me.

I turned around to see a grey-veiled female servant standing a few feet away. The fabric distorted too much of her features for me to see her clearly, but I could make out a pair of bright, catlike green eyes. She shrunk back under my gaze. “Lady Valspian?” 

“Yes.” The sound of her voice startled me – I had never heard one of these servants speak. They were quiet and submissive, just as Amarantha liked them. Supposedly they were her servants from Hybern, but I had heard rumors of Prythian’s Lesser Faeries being kidnapped, cursed into silence and servitude.

“I have a message for you. Her Majesty requests your presence in her chambers in an hour for dinner.”

I had known this was imminent. I had waited with bated breath day after day, knowing that Amarantha would not forget about me. And I had promised myself I would meet it head-on. I was not weak, not helpless anymore. I knew how to use my powers. I could break into minds and glamour and win a swordfight against someone stronger than me.

And yet – my courage faltered. As those images flashed in my mind. Of all Amarantha had done. Of all the times I had failed.

“Tell Her Majesty that while I am honored, I have already promised dinner with Lady Cyra tonight, and I’d prefer not to go back on my word.”

Behind me, I heard Beron snort.

Was it a shit idea? Absolutely. Was it going to put Amarantha off my trail? Probably not. Through the veil, I could make out the girl’s eyes widening. “I-I do not think it was an optional invitation, My Lady. To dine with Her Majesty is a great honor.”

I narrowed my eyes. “The Queen should know that I keep my word. Now leave, before I have to make myself any clearer.”

She nodded once, turning away and soundlessly retreating down the hall. I prayed that Amarantha wouldn't take her wrath out on the servant.

A little over an hour later, I heard Rhys for the first time in days.

“What the hell, Feyre?”

“What?”

“You refused Amarantha? By telling her that you were dining with Cyra, of all things? Couldn’t you have at least come up with a better lie?” His temper was barely in check, anger so sharp lashing down the bond I could nearly feel it.

“I’m trying to keep my secrets just that Rhys – secret. And you’re always so insistent on me staying away from her, I would have thought you would have been pleased.”

“Well, congratulations. You’ve only succeeded in drawing more attention to yourself.”

A cold feeling crept over me. I had been irrational…I had known all along that this wasn’t a permanent solution.

“I’ll be fine, Rhys. I can take care of myself. But how did you hear about it so fast?”

“I’m entertaining her right now. I’m the next best thing to your delightful company tonight.”

Was that where he had been spending all of his time? With her? That cold in the pit of my stomach grew. “I didn’t realize…I’m sorry, Rhys.”

Stony silence. I attempted humor. “ Is the food at least decent? If you’re subjected to her company you should be fed properly.”

No response. Once again, towering walls of adamant environed him. I didn’t bother trying to get past them.

Holding in a groan, I resisted the urge to ask for something stronger to drink. The gravity of the situation had truly settled on me in the past days. At first, despite the horrors, it had almost seemed like a bad dream. That luxury was fading away with each day.

At least I actually had agreed to dinner with Cyra. The youngest daughter of High Lord Julius, the female was certainly clever, if not a bit shallow. Rhys’s ties with Day were tenuous at best, and if having dinner with one of their royals would help me keep a better eye on them, so be it.

--

An hour into my dinner with Cyra and I hadn’t figured out if she was asking nonstop questions about Rhysand for political reasons, or because she thought he was handsome and marriage material.

Well, he was. Handsome, certainly. But that was no reason for me to spend my time answering question after question about him, all while trying to turn the conversation back around to her. 

“And where does Rhysand spend all his time these days? I can’t say I’ve seen him in – well, I don’t know how long!” She tittered, and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

If she was trying to wile secrets out of me, she was making an interesting approach. 

I focused on cutting my chicken into tiny, tiny pieces. “I couldn’t say. He hardly confides in me about his whereabouts And even -.” I was interrupted by the door being violently opened, handle knocking against the stone of the wall.

There in the doorway, framed by faint faelight from the hall, stood Amarantha herself. She looked otherworldly in the lighting, a painting waiting to be created with a crown on her head and a dark dress.

Cyra's fork clattered against her plate.

“Cyra. You will excuse Feyre. She has much greater plans with me this evening.” Her voice left no room for argument. “Feyre.” A beckoning, as if I was a dog to be summoned. I stood from my chair and followed her out the door, not bothering to look back at Cyra.

A string of expletives going off with each step I took, following close behind her, I hoped I was only being over cautious. She didn’t speak.

I had known from my explorations that Amarantha’s chambers had two entrances – the doors to her bedroom, and an entrance to her living quarters. Amarantha took me to the latter, the door less grand than the main ones but still carved. I wasn’t sure what to brace myself for – heads on a pike, more finger bones, servants waiting on her hand and foot – but no. Instead, it was surprisingly empty. The walls had been papered with a rather gaudy purple and cream pattern, and a giant faelight chandelier hung from the ceiling. Amarantha settled herself on a velvet mauve chaise, hand open and awaiting something. A heartbeat later, a grey-veiled female servant appeared, placing a glass of red wine in her open hand. I stared at her for a moment, and frightened green eyes peered back at me. It was the same servant from earlier - Amarantha hadn't harmed her.

“Feyre. So nice to dine with you.” She scanned me up and down, a catlike smile forming on her lips.

“It’s my pleasure, my Queen.” I dipped into a curtsy.

“Likewise.” She gestured to a chair with a wave of her claw-like hand. “Sit.”

I made my way over to the matching velvet chair nearest to her, dress crinkling around me as I sat. I had barely blinked before a wine glass was placed into my palm. Then both of the silent maids were out of the room, nearly floating like specters. Now that I was closer to Amarantha, I could sense the wards and spells she had placed on herself, making physical attacks impossible. Of course, magic ones were already out of the question.

 “So.” She angled her body towards mine, eyes crackling with dangerous power. “I'll do you a favor just this once and not mention the way in which you slighted me this evening. I trust it won't happen again."

I scrambled for a response. "Of course. Thank you, My Queen."

Her entire demeanor changed then - from threatening to untroubled in a heartbeat.

"Then, how are you faring? Are you comfortable here?”

I nodded. “I’m doing just fine, thank you.”

She rolled her eyes. “A boring answer. Come now, Feyre. I find you interesting. So entertain me.” Indeed, I had never quite seen this side of her. How many sides did the Deciever have?

This was what she had called me in here for? Petty gossip and entertainment? I took a long, slow sip of my wine.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to report on.” 

She took another sip of wine, otherwise unmoving. I had to force my fingers to stop playing with the fabric of my dress. “I won’t dance around niceties anymore. I’m sure you know why I’ve called you here. You have quite a unique skill set.”

I had considered this at length. To play dumb or go along with this. And I still wasn’t sure that my decision was the right one. “I do.”

“I was quite surprised at first. You seemed so ordinary, and yet you walked so close to Rhysand the night of the masquerade. He valued you, and now I know why. You might be the only other of his kind on the continent. I never imagined you’d reveal your secrets on your own so quickly. You fought rather spectacularly in the fight. You even brought down one of my personal guards. I didn’t think many women fought in the Night Court.” She took another swallow of wine, and then lowered her hand again, resting it on the side of the chaise.

For the first time in weeks, the idea of a painting flashed in my mind. The dim lighting, the glinting jewels, the rich fabrics – it would make for quite the portrait. For a moment, I wished that was that she had called me here for instead. It was almost laughable, and though painting her would have been like ripping off a bit of my soul, it would have been infinitely simpler.

I let out a short, mirthless laugh instead. “I have no desire to be weak, to be considered lesser, among these males.”

“Perhaps if you revealed your true gifts, you wouldn’t be.”

“I have already done it without that. Why would I show my true hand?” I countered.

“Powerful and a strategist.” She mused. “What other gifts are you hiding?”

I did that bored half-shrug I had seen Rhys pull off so effortlessly.

“You’re from Night, so you must have some sort of shadow manipulation, correct?”

Right – at least sort of. I could manipulate shadows, but not even close to the extent that Rhys could. They were half inconsequential things of smoke, shades of Rhysand's wonderous creations. Usually, if I wanted shadows, it was easier just to create a glamour.

"I've also seen you walking. You practically prowl, your feet are so silent. In another life, perhaps you could have been an assassin," she mused.

Damn it. Just like that, she had me pinned down.

“Since you insist on knowing, yes. I can manipulate shadows, I can break into minds, I can stab someone before they even know I’m in the room.”

 “You’re my kind of female, Feyre Valspian. And we could do great things together.”

“What are you proposing?”

Amarantha ignored my question. “Do you hate me, Feyre?”

I forced myself to not break eye contact, to keep my hands still. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you don’t like me, Feyre. I can see it burning in your eyes, you know. If you want to get anywhere, you really should get better at concealing it. But luckily for you, hate has never deterred me.”

Do not let surprise show, keep your face a mask –

I finally found words. “I don’t hate you, My Queen. I hate the murders of my people that you’ve committed. I admire your ambition.”

She tilted her head. “Those deaths were necessary, Feyre. Certainly, acceptable losses in the grand scheme of things.”

“Perhaps.” I allowed, clamping down on my rage. Many of those nobles had been wicked, many of them I could barely name. And yet, I still felt such unmatched anger at their deaths. Perhaps even deeper than Rhys had. Maybe it was because of my youth – I hadn’t had time to grow a shield between myself and the world.

“Your dislike is hardly enough to discourage me, dearest. You’re far too much of an asset.”

“Please, explain to me what it is you want.” I insisted.

“What I want?” Her breathing grew quick, fingers so tight around the glass goblet I thought it might shatter. “I want to see Tamlin fall. I want to make sure all of Prythian recognizes me as their true Queen. I want to watch the dawn of a new age.” She locked eyes with me. “And you are going to be the one to help me do it.”

 My breath hitched a bit, but I looked down at my wine instead, swirling the dark purple around in the glass. “Why should I?”

Amarantha set her wine glass down on the table, the motion making a loud clunk. Cauldron, I was playing a dangerous game.

“Do I need to spell it out? We share so many common goals, Feyre. Don’t pretend you don’t want the High Lords brought to their knees. I saw the way you looked at the likes of Tamlin and Beron. You’d rather die than scrape before them, wouldn’t you?” Her voice was so soft, so persuasive, that I wondered if she had spelled it. “You claim you have no desire to be seen as weak. Prove it to me. The High Lords are already pinned beneath my thumb. The next step is to make it known to everyone else who their ruler is. At the end of these forty-nine years, when Tamlin’s spirit has been broken, I will keep you at my side when everyone else falls and grovels.”

I sat in silence for a moment, pretending to contemplate when I already knew what my answer had to be.

She laughed. “Don’t pretend you have to consider it, Feyre. Would you prefer me to threaten your life and force you to obey?”

I was going to die beneath this mountain. I hated this feeling. After I had left Tamlin, I had worked so hard, for so long, to ensure that I was not a pawn. I told myself I would never be one again. And yet, here I was. To succumb to it might kill me one day.

For a moment, I debated trying to bargain for more. For Rhys’s protection – for my court’s protection. But Rhys could certainly take care of himself, and it would be a risk anyway. With all of his dinners and conversations with her, he certainly had made bargains of his own. The court would also be safe for now – Velaris was hidden, and if she murdered everyone else Under the Mountain there would be none left to worship her.

“We have an agreement,” I said softly, raising my wine glass to hers in a toast. She did the same, a faint smile playing on her lips. I brought the glass to my lips and drank deeply for the first time since sitting down. At least there wasn’t a curse attached this time.

“There’s no point in us wasting time over chit-chat, then. I’ll tell you what first needs to be done.”

 “Word has gotten out to the common faeries about this little exchange of power, and some of them are planning some foolish uprising or another. Offenders will need to be imprisoned. I’ve arranged for extra space in the tunnels and extra caverns to be made into cells.”

There were already at least a hundred cells carved out in the deepest chambers of the mountain, left over from the War four and a half centuries ago.

“How many prisoners are you planning on having…My Queen?” I tacked on the honorific at the end.

She shrugged. “There are entire villages that need to be dealt with. You’ll see. I want you at the forefront with some of mine. I’ll be dividing the courts between you and several of my lieutenants. By the end of the week, I want you up in the courts dealing with the masses appropriately.”  

Horror squirmed in my stomach as I realized what she was planning. Imprisoning the royals, the key players in her twisted little game, that made sense. But she truly was planning a full-scale takeover.

I couldn’t leave my Court defenseless as I had planned. “The honor is mine, my Queen. But surely you don’t plan on extending your forces all the way north?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Well, for one thing, the war bands of Illyria are hardly a threat right now. They’re indeed a fearsome power, but only if united by Rhysand. Otherwise, they’ll never unite under one front, they prefer to clash with one another. If you leave them be, they’ll probably take out some of their own weak members. As for the cities…well, you’ve visited Hewn City. They’ll take a liking to your reign anyway.”

She wrinkled her nose at me. “You speak so ineloquently. But Rhysand did say the same thing, albeit with a much finer tongue.” She mused

“Then, you know I speak the truth. You must expect that I have loyalty to my birth court.” I pointed out as breezily as possible, ignoring the insult borne of my human upbringing.

"And what of the towns and villages that have no nobles or war bands to fight amongst themselves?"

"The towns are remote and defenseless. Any rebellion could be quelled when the need arose. Why extend your troops so far North and raze what isn't even a threat?"

Amarantha considered it. “I’ll allow it, for now. As a favor to Rhysand. But I will be sending a squadron of soldiers to be permanently stationed there.”

I clenched the side of the chair to avoid slumping over in relief. 

“Then, your will is mine.” I dipped my head. 

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Comment or send an ask if you want to be tagged! As always, thank you for reading.

[makeitcanoncowards]

Gwaine x Reader

50 Shades of Gwaine: Christmas Winter Special!

A/N: Hey guys! I meant to post this on Christmas, but obviously that didn’t happen. This isn’t a new part, but it is a oneshot/imagine in the same universe as my 50 Shades of Gwaine series. Obviously, there’s only 2 parts (or 3 depending on when I post this) so far, so this takes place after their relationship has developed slightly more and is very fluffy! Happy reading and happy new year!

50 shades of Gwaine Masterlist | Part One | Part Two

Words:1,474

Warnings: None

*Gif doesn’t belong to me*

           It was the first snow of the season; the entire castle had been blanketed in a layer of white. It was your first time ever seeing snow in a city, and you found yourself in complete awe of the way the colors of the market still stood vibrant against your pale surroundings. One color, however, that continuously caught your eye was the striking red of a certain knight’s cloak. 

           You watched from the window of your room as the knights sparred in the designated training grounds (which you had luckily been given a perfect view of). With a dreamy sigh, you laid your chin in your palm and observed the way that none of them could take themselves seriously with the snow laying beneath their feet. Such an environment turned even the strongest of men into children, if only for a few hours. 

           “Merlin!” King Arthur screeched as melting snow dripped from his nose. Apparently, Sir Gwaine had started a snowball fight, and luckily ducked before his enemy – Merlin – could retaliate. You watched with glee as each and every knight was dragged into his antics, and couldn’t help but feel a warmth rise in your cheeks, despite the cold air, when Gwaine happened to look up and lock eyes with you from your station at the window.

           He waved up at you as a smirk found its way upon his face, as it did so often whenever he saw you, and you pretended to only just notice him standing below you. Even though your window was open, and you had obviously been staring. Who’s to say you weren’t just lost in thought and happened to be staring at the man of your dreams.

           “A maiden, trapped in a tower?” He called up to you, “This seems like a job for a dashingly handsome knight, I shall rescue you, m’lady!”

           You scoffed as you peeked down at him, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands tucked behind his back like an overexcited child. You couldn’t help but tease him a little, if only for the sake of humility, “A brave and handsome knight you would say?”

           “All that and more, only the best for you, my dear fair maiden!”

           “Then be a doll, Sir Gwaine,” You smiled down at him as he began to walk towards the side door that leads into the castle kitchen, “And fetch Sir Percival for me.”

           Your quip made him stop in his tracks and the rest of the men, who had turned to watch your exchange as you had both been yelling, fell into fits of laughter. Percival dropped into an overexaggerated bow and beamed up at you.

           “Anything for a fair maiden!” He called out and quickly brushed past Gwaine before he could react. You watched as he slipped through the door mentioned before and looked back at your admirer. Gwaine simply stared up at you, the shocked expression adorning his face making him look like a gaping fish.

           He looked as though he wanted to say something but was cut off by King Arthur, “Gwaine why don’t we let y/n alone and we continue our training before it snows again.” Gwaine nodded, still staring at you, and followed after the king. Suddenly, he was taking training very seriously and even began to show off a bit. You chuckled to yourself until you heard a knock at your door.

           “Lady y/n,” Percival’s voice rang clear despite the thick wood that separated the two of you, “Would you like an escort to the training grounds?”  

           You opened your door and began to grab the dark purple cloak from your wardrobe, “I would just love an escort. Thank you, Sir Percival.”

           “It is my pleasure, m’lady,” He smiled down at you as you took his arm. As many times as you’ve seen and interacted with Percival, you would never get used to his height compared to yours. It was comical, especially since he had quite a few inches on even the tallest of knights.

           The two of you spent the walk towards the rest of the knights chatting about his most recent adventure while you added your own quips every now and then. You had grown to be fairly good friends with the knights considering how often you had to spend afternoons staring at them for their portraits. You couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy it either, they were all quite handsome.

           “ – And that’s when Gwaine lit his socks on fire. He says it was an accident but I doubt anyone could be that clumsy,” Percival and you laughed before he sobered and continued, “Truly, I think he realized it was a bad day and we could all use a laugh. He’s a good man like that.”

           You shook your head lightly, a sweet smile breaking out across your face, “He is a good man.” You repeated.

           Percival gave you a knowing side glance, but you elected to ignore it as you had finally made to that side door that would allow you to see Sir Gwaine again. Despite appearing to be a confident, sarcastic tease to him, he could capture your heart with one look and you always needed to prepare yourself before you saw him. That way you wouldn’t give into his charmer ways.

           Percival began to pull on the handle until you reached out, grasping his wrist, “Just give me a second.” You whispered. He gave you a short nod and waited as you hurriedly tried to smooth your hair, despite it looking the same as it always does, and adjust your dress so it wasn’t askew. Watching you fix your imaginary imperfections made Percival chuckle, knowing that Gwaine was just as crazy for you as you were for him. If anyone had seen this part of you, they’d not question your fondness for your knight.

           “Ready?” He asked as you had tucked the same strand of hair behind your ear for the twentieth time. You looked up at him, radiating with nervousness and appreciation:

           “Yes, thank you.” You grinned, trying to digest the butterflies in your stomach.

           Percival wasted no time yanking the door open; a blast of cold air hit you in the face and you suppressed a shiver against the temperature change. Unintentionally, this caused you to lean into Percival more to shield you from the winter chill.

           It was a completely innocent action, but upon seeing the two of you, Gwaine had a deep frown set on his face. He couldn’t help but hate how close you were to one of his best friends. The jealously burned in his stomach and he thrashed his sword against a wooden beam, used as a sparring dummy, as hard as he could.

           Letting himself get caught up in his own world, he was unaware of his surroundings and surprised when he was knocked on his rear by a cold force hitting him in the face.

           Shocked, he looked over his shoulder, snow muffling the sound of your voice, as you ran towards him.

           “I am so sorry!” you picked up your skirts and ran towards the man you had just taken out with a rogue snowball. “I was aiming for your shoulder I swear!”

           He looked up at you, snow sticking to his eyelashes and matting up his hair, and you couldn’t help but think about how beautiful he was. “It’s alright,” He grunted, trying to get the cold snow – now water – out of his ear and out of his collar.

           You knelt down next to him and began to pull ice out of his dark brown locks, “Are you alright? It hit you square in the face.”

           “I noticed,” Gwaine laughed at your observation, “You may not have been aiming, but you’ve got a strong arm.”

           You gazed down at him, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you brushed more melting snow off him. Instinctively, he leaned into your touch and your face burned at the show of affection.

           “You’re alright?” You repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

           “I am doing wonderfully,” He sighed as your hand cupped his cheek.

           “Alright you two,” Merlin called cheerfully, “Gwaine I have to clean that armor and if you get it rusty in the snow, I will have to kill you.”

           You giggled and helped him up, enjoying an afternoon playing in the snow and enjoying each other’s company. 

**Taglist**

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[girllovescomic]

Winter Begonia episode 3

This episode opens with the audience waiting on our little divo.  Minister Jin asks Boss Niu whether SXR has found a replacement for the violinist.  If not, he will make good on his threat. Weasel Dengbao repeats what Minister Jin said to his dad, like the man was not sitting right next to the corrupt politician.  The father replies if that is not exactly what he wants, to which Asian Crispin Glover bemoans that he is not that cruel. 

Meanwhile, Fan Lian acting like the typical fan wants to know what to know what SXR will be playing.  CFT like the good boyfriend he will become says that whatever his bae plays will be excellent.  Can I have my own Er Ye?  

Our pouty lips divo finally arrives on stage holding a Chinese violin.  Everyone is intrigued, wondering if he can actually play the instrument.  Daddy weasel Jiang explains that it takes hundred days to learn the dizi, a type of Chinese bamboo flute, a thousand days to learn the xiao (Chinese vertical flute) and ten years to be experienced enough to play the huqin/Chinese violin.  I guess all these instruments are used in the opera.  This worries Niu Bao Lan who clearly cares for our lil penguin. 

But no worries, our boy is a musical genius and he showcases it by playing the violin expertly, much to the dismay of the Jiang pair.  Fan Lian is obviously amazed by how talent his idol is, while CFT is all smiles and heart eyes.  Like bro, can you be more obvious in your fawning over your crush? He confirms what SXR had told him about being a hero.

Looking at his bae with open admiration.  Xirui share the wealth, sis!

Dengbao is clearly not happy that SXR will now be even more popular because of his prowess, but daddy tells him not to fly the white flag just yet.  SXR must have a weakness and they will find a way to exploit it. 

 Indeed, they find a way to manipulate SXR’s self-righteousness and stubbornness by loudly giving away the slush fund to Minister Jin’s secretary.  

It is obviously a trap to push the impetuous young man to make a major faux pas. Just as Daddy Jiang predicted, SXR decides to go back to the stage and sing an opera, as a laosheng (an older male role, something he hasn’t done in a while) about a corrupt Ming Dynasty minister who stole money from the empire. 

The crowd is clued in of the opera’s implication, including Fan Lian.  CFT, the opera novice, meanwhile is unaware of it and even claps thinking it is just a good performance.  When Fan Lian explains it to him, he even more impressed at how gutsy his crush is.

Hero gaze activated.  Anyone who touches bae will get the beating of his life.  I swear his attention perks up whenever someone threatens his lil penguin!

Minister Jin tells his secretary to send some guys after SXR.. Our little divo is no slouch in the martial arts department and is able to escape.  His dashing hero is waiting for him in the car and invites him to hop in.  

Minister Jin is surprised that SXR was able to slip through his fingers, but decides to not pursue him all the way to the opera house, not wanting to waste time on someone so insignificant.  Oh boy, if you only knew who is future boyfriend was!  Talking about boyfriend, CFT praises his lil divo’s martial arts skills; of course, SXR boasts that he is skilled in both singing and kung fu, without a hint of humility.  CFT asks if his little act was to his satisfaction and of course, Xirui answers in the affirmative.  CFT lets him know that his act will have consequences since he drew the ire of a powerful man by exposing his bad deeds and this matter will not be let go.  Xirui asks CFT what he should in that case.  CFT tells him he cannot do it alone, he will need help and then explains why Minister Jin tried to embezzled the money.  Apparently it is not really about the money, but about securing his position in Beiping against the juggernaut that is Commander Cao.  Unfortunately this flies over Xirui’s head who is probably looking at Er Ye’s beautiful profile and thinking of a few operas he wants to sing for him. Or how lucky he has found such a sexy daddy. Oh, I wish I was in your place sweetie. CFT promises he will take care of the situation for him and offers food, which he seems to know it’s something his crush understands. Then they gaze into each other’s eyes with Er Ye smiling softly and holy shit, like the gaze actually last more than a second! How this past censorship, I will never know.   

Xan Er Ye gaze at me like that too

We see Minister Jin acting like the pompous ass he is, walking down the street with his loot.  Someone shoots at his hat, creating a diversion to take said loot, which he realizes too late. 

Ohh so that is CFT’s plan, as we see his crew bring back the money.  He tells them to send it to the anti-Japanese coalition. This little act sinks Minister Jin who is accused of corruption and loses his fight against Commander Cao without the latter raising a finger.  

This obviously does not sit well with weasel Dengbao who complains, like the little bish he is, to his father.  Apparently, Xirui found another opera house to perform; it’s a popular house that has hosted many big opera performers (jue’er). His father tells him that they may not have to lift a finger, others will do the heavy lifting for them in dealing with Xirui.  He lets him on a secret about the so-called bad blood between Commander Cao and Xirui back when they were in Pingyang.   

Weasel Cao decides they need to spill the tea about the situation 

The next day, Xirui and his troupe come into the opera house and find Dengbao’s troupe, Longchun Troupe, in their space and the cattiness ensues.  I swear, it feels like watching the backstage of a theater or Hollywood, where rival actors get in each others’ faces for some primetime. 

Dengbao sneers, telling Xirui the opera house is now his territory. Whatever Asian Mr. World. There’s a staredown which is interrupted by the opera house manager.  

SXR demands an explanation for basically reneging on their agreement. The manager tells them he has his reasons for doing so, but if they want to perform they can take the morning spot, which is basically relegating a rising star, like Beyonce, to be the opening act instead of the primetime act, which is a major downgrade.

  Not only that, but it will be doing so until another performer, who is currently sick, returns.  Best girl Xiao Lai tells SXR to find another spot to perform, offended by the obvious downgrade.  

The manager lets them know that other houses will probably turn them down. It turns out that removing Minister Jin in favor of Commander Cao has made his previous encounter with the warlord resurface and no one wants to deal with this hot mess, in fear they will draw the wrath of Beijing’s new boss.  SXR looks at Dengbao and I believe he realizes this was his doing.

He discusses the matter with sexy crush while eating a steak like a country girl at a fancy debutante ball.  He tells CFT that the gossip is blown out of proportion; he doesn’t really have any feud with the commander. It turns out the commander wanted to keep the troupe as its personal entertainment, which goes against SXR wish of performing on stage. After all, the stage is everything for him.  He refused to continue singing, which led the commander to threaten him with a gun.  Our little divo showed his backbone, not flinching a tiny bit while feeling the cold barrel pressed against his head. . Xirui tells CFT that all the other things are unfounded gossips, there is nothing more between them.  A sidenote, in the novel, SXR was actually Commander Cao’s boy toy, which drew Meixin’s jealousy, forcing SXR to hide in his room to avoid her. He left for the same reason. Like a good boyfriend, CFT shows his understanding of the situation, replying that no one else was there so people ran with the gossip.  Xirui sees the people who believes the rumors as brainless, and I have to agree with him on this.  Even in modern time, people will believe whatever they want to believe about celebrities without using logic.

Can we take time to see how beautiful Yin Zheng look here?

Sexy CFT agrees and even brings up the fact that if the rumors were true, SXR would have been six feet under.  He knows his BIL very well.  Unfortunately, this does not change the fact that people will believe the gossip especially if the parties involved do not clarify the situation. CFT offers to remedy the situation by inviting SXR to sing at his son’s first birthday, where the commander will also be in attendance to celebrate his political win. SXR is honored to come sing for the Little Master and would have done so even without the added benefit.

We see two people walking and I smell trouble. The woman seems taken by the environment surrounding her, as if it is the first time she sees such luxury. Her husband is very sweet and soft-spoken and you can tell he is very much caring towards her. They are even holding hands like a pair of teenage lovers. Hmmm...could this provide a parallel between CFT and his wife?

Fan Lian greets them and we find out it’s the rumored couple mentioned in the gossip about SXR when he was still in Pingyang. The woman is Jiang Menping, Xirui’s former senior sister and her husband, Chang Zhixin, is Fan Lian and Er Nainai’s cousin. They have come to Beijing because the cousin works in government. Apparently the mention of Shuiyun is persona non grata around Meiping. She looks a shy and pensive woman, a complete contrast to the childlike and wild SXR.

They come to visit Er Nainai and CZX is taken by Er Nainai’s son, doting on him, which seems to sadden Meiping.  Er Nainai, after chatting incessantly about it until she notices Menping’s sad gaze. We learn she has been trying to get pregnant but her body is unhealthy or unable to produce children.  CZX showcases how much of a doting husband he is, stating that he actually does not like kids at all, which is a sweet lie.  He only wants her, nothing else.  Sigh...will I ever find someone like this.  

I digress...He adds that since he comes from a large family and had to deal with a lot of crying brats, he has grown to dislike kids.  You can tell he is saying this to make her feel good and she knows, but she is grateful and bask in his love. Er Nainai notices the sweet moment and you can tell she wishes that Er Ye was that loving. 

She gives Menping a pair of earrings as a wedding gift, which she could not attend.  Menping feels the jewelry is too luxurious, which makes me think they are a frugal type couple, despite the high level job he has and his aristocratic background. Er Nainai apologizes for her faux pas earlier, which Menping assures her it is okay.  CZX cannot stay a few moments away from his wife, acting all anxious as if she had disappeared.  She reminds him that it has only been 30 minutes, but in his mind, it felt like a day. I may get diabetes from all that sweetness. He quickly notices the earrings.  He tells Er Nainai that he notices everything about Menping, down to the details like new earrings. Oooh, the look of envy is all over Er Nainai’s face.

Is he for real??

We see Er Nainai trying out new earrings, obviously in the hopes that dashing CFT will notice.  Oh sis, your relationship is not the same as your cousin.  CFT comes in and thrown himself on the bed, fully clothed.  He looks like he had a full day. She helps him out of his jacket and tries to draw his attention to the earrings. Oh sis, i am telling you that you are wasting your time.  His heart eyes are not for you. He jokes that she looks chubbier (BRO!) and she pushes him back on the bed.  He wants to know what has gotten in her to make her irritated towards him. She pouts and walks back to her dresser, obviously disappointed that he did not notice the minute change. 

BRO! The last thing a woman wants to hear!

He’s like, okay fine, I am going to wash up, but by the way, next week is our son’s first birthday, so take care of the preparation, especially since my BIL will be coming for his big celebration. As he walks away, she mutters that she’s no better than a servant and takes off the earrings.

It’s the day of the Little Master’s birthday and Meixin is acting like a good hostess, guiding the servants and being the mistress of the house.  Apparently, Er Nainai is still pouting in her room.  One of the servants inform her the opera troupe is here and it is obvious that she has no idea who it is. By the way, let me pause again and talk about the fashion. Meixin’s dress and the mink she wears is gorgeous.  Good lord the details in this show!!!  Ok, so back to the program, she tells the servant to warn the maids not to go near the performers, again highlighting the prejudice carried against the performers, who were lower than even prostitutes.  Sigh, hierarchical societies are bleh. 

Meixin inquires about Er Nainai and right on cue, we see her, gazing into space, clearly still not over the fact that her husband does not pay full attention to her. Gurl, your marriage cannot be compared to that of your cousin! He married for love, while your husband married you for convenience.  Even if you are in love with him, the same cannot be said about him! He still showers you with affection and care, some people cannot even find that! 

Ugh, Meixin barges in and they have a little sister chat about the birds and the bees, the difference between men and women when it comes to love. Meixin wonders if she has a fever or something, and Er Nainai explains that she read an opera script (really sis?!) that claims if a woman has never or be loved, is she living in vain and I am sitting here, looking at myself, feeling forever alone... 

Sis, way to twist the knife in my wound

Meixin dismiss this nonsense, telling that most opera scripts are fake to fool young girls (that sounds familiar) and that as an housewife, she has obligations to fulfill. Er Nainai insists the stories are real and brings up the real reason why she feels out of sorts. 

 Meixin is like, the hell girl, why are you bringing this nonsense up? Did my brother offend you or something? Er Nainai says no, but she feels Fengtai is not like other men, which Meixin tells her it’s a good thing. 

 Every men are not supposed to be the same and Er Nainai acts like she’s a little girl. Meixin explains that some men are verbose with their love, while others carried in their hearts.  There are other men who sleeps around (hmmm is this a reference to novel Fengtai?) while others simply do not understand romance.

She thinks Fengtai is of the latter (maybe because he has not found the person to display his love to). Meixin reminds her of the type of man her brother is, someone who is bright and sensible, and she should be happy to have someone like this as a husband, instead of a gruff like Commander Cao.  No truer words spoken, sis!

Oh SIS! I hope you never see your husband’s face when he looks at his chubby cheeks bae.  You might be too mad to see such obvious display of adoration

Meanwhile Hot daddy CFT struts his stuff into the banquet area of his house, schmoozing to his guests.  Mr Hao Lan, who I believe is the head servant of the household, urges him to go outside and wait to greet the Commander. CFT tells him not to fret, the man of the hour will probably fashionably late. 

His mind quickly shifts to his bae and he inquires about the troupe.  As soon as he finds out there are already in his home, he goes out to check. Oh boy, the man is enamored, completely unaware that his wife is having a heart-to-heart about their relationship. 

He hears some of the singers fighting with their troupe leader, irritating Shang Lao Ban so much, he storms out. As soon as Xirui sees CFT, he is all smiles while CFT gives him his soft gaze that shows all the affection he has for our adorable divo.  Oh, if Er Nainai had seen this, she would have blown a casket.

If I could find a man who looks at me like Er Ye looks at Xirui

He claims to come and get a look at his bae check the preparations, wondering if it was bad time since he overheard the arguing. Sis, you are here to gaze at your crush

 SXR chuckles, dismissing the silly fight.  Er Ye tells him that he has hired photographers and reporters to help with dismissing the rumors. The headline, according to him will read “Shang Xirui’s beautiful voice caused Commander Cao to light up and smile”. Geez can I get a hype man like this? SXR is grateful at all the support CFT provided and wonders how he is going to repay him.

Sigh...

Right at this moment, the man of the hour arrives with all the pomp.  Lao Han rush CFT to the front door to greet the Commander. CFT reminds SXR that the rest is up to him to either fail or succeed in dispeling the rumors. SXR tells him not to worry and CFT replies with another one of his killer smiles. He runs to the door as Commander Cao steps out of the car. BIL tells him that he saw him running to greet him instead of waiting for him, all in jest.  

They clearly have a good relationship. CFT even jest that he doesn’t have another elder sister to give away for marriage when Commander Cao brings out all the gifts. Not to be outdone in the hilarious department, Cao tells him about the gift he brought to his little nephew and I swear I am endeared by the gruff old man when he describes the noise made by the toy train.  

Fan Lian is acting like the young master of the house, walking aimlessly towards the kitchen where he finds his cousins helping out. He’s like, what the hell are you guys doing? You are guests, not helpers! He tells them to go change and attend the banquet, hoping CXZ could rub shoulders with Old Cao for his career, but CXZ sounds like an honest politician.  

Commander Cao and Fengtai are jesting again, and you really feel their relationship is not based on hierarchy, but one of affection.  I think this is the first time I see a Republican Era drama that shows a warlord’s softer side.  Is this show for real???? They are discussing the tense relationship between his son, Cao Guixi who is also a top member of the army, and him.  Lol, he even calls him a son of a bitch, which makes CFT spit out the hazelnut out of his mouth. Apparently, the son is being ungrateful after his father gave him a golden ticket by sending him abroad, but he is turning out to be rebellious, even hanging out with sketchy people. 

Unfortunately for the Commander, since it’s his only heir, he can’t do much to suppress the young master. 

Oh, is the young master cause problem later?

Fengtai suggests that Commander impregnates his sister so she can give him another heir (no worries, this is said in jest) and he can shoot the current heir.  Fengtai asks why the Commander is so sweet with him (hmm because you are so damn charming, who can resist you?) while so stern with his son. The Commander does not want to talk his son because the latter infuriates him.  He then calls Fengtai using a feminized version of his name (Feng’er), which shows the kind of affection they have between each other.  Awww...Fengtai playfully acts embarrassed, which only prompts the Commander to yell out the girly nickname. LOL, I cannot! 

He then tells the Commander that he has brought Shang Xirui to perform for him, but if this offends him, he will send the troupe back.  He informs him of the situation the opera singer has found himself because of their nebulous past, but it seems, based on the Commander’s reaction, to be water under the bridge.  The Commander finds the gossip silly since he does not consider the lil divo as a worthy enemy.  Relieved, CFT tells him that he will make SXR sing a great piece for him and even apologizes, but the Commander knows the lil divo is a stubborn child who does not bend over for anyone.  The Commander requests a popular Shaanxi Opera called Qinqiang (I may actually make a post about the different operas). CFT orders the manager to inform SXR of the request.

SXR is not too happy about the sudden change, since he doesn’t have the right costume and makeup to perform this opera.  Oof, any creatives reading this will understand his fretting. We like to be perfect when we deliver our art and any last minute inconvenience can throw a major wrench in our delivery. 

Manager Han tells him it was a request from the Commander himself, so basically he has no choice. Despite having a well-know stubborn personality, SXR acquiesces, but he is not happy about it.  He knows he has no choice but to please the Commander since his future depends on it Even his troupe member comments at this overbearing commander’s unfair request.  SXR asks Xiao Lai if he should perform without all of his accoutrement, which best girl agrees. 

He is going to need far more food than the dainty offering from la casa de Cheng.  

She goes out to get something heavier, while Manager Han catches up with Meixin to let her know that her hubby is here.  She spots Xiao Lai and you know trouble is a-brewing.  She asks who that girl is as she looks familiar and learns which opera troupe was invite.  Realizing the impending trouble since Er Nainai’s cousins are also attending the banquet, she ask the manager to quickly fix this messy situation.

Ooph, there are so many good moments in this episode, especially with SXR calling out the minister for embezzlement, showing CFT that despite being a dan, he is no damsel.  We find out that he has martial art skills, which will probably be handy in later episodes.  We also finally get a chance to see the Commander and more family dynamics on CFT sides.  His relationship with this BIL is quite interesting and despite the obvious difference in status, they are quite affectionate with each other.  I feel like I am watching a more Westernized relationship than a typical Asian one.  Additionally, we get to see the much talked about Jiang Menping and her husband.  Their relationship is again a very Westernized lovey-dovey relationship, that of love, not one of arranged marriage, which contrast immensely to Fengtai-Er Nainai’s relationship.  This makes Er Nainai yearns for such devotion from her husband, which we know she will not get since a lil divo has bursted into the scene and crept up inside CFT’s heart.  I feel for her, you can tell she has love for her husband, but she is equally naive when it comes to relationship and how to deal with men in general.  She is after all a very conservative woman, who unlike her well-cultured husband, represents the vestiges of a fallen dynasty and society, that is still trying to hang on desperately.  I sense trouble brewing between Xirui, the cousins and Commander Cao

[chronicfangirling]

KDA In Excelsis: Ch21 (The King’s Avatar AU, CEO!Hakyeon, Gamer!Hongbin, VIXX x OCs ) Character Charts [x]

“Mom, you were so cool.” Yugyeom declared when Hana returned to the seats, standing up to hug her.

“Okay, okay, let her breathe,” Hongbin grumbled when Yugyeom showed no signs of letting go, pulling back the boy to take the seat at his left, so Hana could take the empty chair on the right.

“That was soooo cool,” Sooyeon gushed from the row behind, leaning forward to give Hana a bottle of strawberry milk.

“It really was, I’ll bet Taehyung didnt know what he had coming!” BamBam jabbed at the air, then handed Hana a box of strawberry Pepero from his snack stash.

“... You worked hard.” Hongbin opened a bag of honey butter chips and placed it on her lap, even as he kept his gaze straight ahead.

“Could you all pipe down, I’m trying to focus!” Mingyu whined, shaking his head.

“Aww, is our baby nervous for his match?” Hana teased. When Mingyu opened his mouth to retort, she stuffed a stack of crisps in his mouth. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“You’re not supposed to win anyway, it’s bad form for a rookie to win against their sunbae,” Hongbin pointed out.

“Winning is the least of my worries,” Mingyu snarled.

“Why? I trained you. If it’s just Lee Taeyong, you have a chance to beat him if he gets careless.” Hongbin shrugged.

“--versus Lee Hongbin!” the emcee announced.

“Huh?” Hana blinked at Hongbin as everyone else exchanged looks. “Were you supposed to battle?”

Kihyun scooted over from the Tiny Herb seating and told her. “Umm... Jeon Jungkook challenged him.”

“Jungkook? Of Samsara? But Hyogi said the plan was for Jungkook to challenge him...” She gaped at Hongbin.

“I guess his super rookie went rogue,” Hongbin muttered.

“Your friend has balls.” Mingyu elbowed BamBam, nerves forgotten. But BamBam and Yugyeom were both looking at the Samsara seating in apprehension.

Sanghyuk’s narrowed eyes were gleaming cold. Jungkook had stood up before the captain, his head bowed. “Captain I... I just wanted to try--”

“You’re more curious about another team’s captain than your own?” Sanghyuk broke into a grin but the sharpness never left his gaze. “Just try not to lose too badly. That hyung doesn’t know how to hold back.”

“Hongbin....” Hana looked up at him, biting her lip.

His fingers flitted over her shoulder in the ghost of a pat. “It’ll be fine.”

The two players faced each other on the stage. When asked why he had challenged Hongbin, Jungkook responded: “Because... this may be my only chance... to battle the one called Gaming God.”

The emcee mock-gasped. “But your captain is the new MVP, and being called the new Legend in Glory, but you’d rather challenge his rival?”

Jungkook looked at loss for words, and Hongbin interjected: “Jungkook is privileged enough to have the MVP as his Captain, so it’s natural for him to take the opportunity to battle players he won’t otherwise have contact with.” The younger player inclined his head gratefully.

They both took their places and entered the volcano environment, their characters battling on the thin strip of rock across the lava. Jungkook’s Golden Persona immediately rushed Water Hyacinth, before the sharpshooter could take an advantageous position. Water Hyacinth blocked, remaining passively defensive even when Golden Persona missed a beat in the combo.

Golden Persona chained a Furious Dragon Strikes the Heart and Water Hyacinth neatly side-stepped. Going into cooldown, Golden Persona retreated, jumping to the rock pillar at the center of the pool of lava and creating a Magic Shield, but Water Hyacinth only stayed at the ready.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Jungkook demanded through gritted teeth.

Hongbin maintained his character’s defensive stance. “Because...”

“Because you don’t know how to hold back?” Jungkook cried. “Then don’t! Show your reckless hoobae what happens when they get in over their head!” Golden Persona shifts into the stance for Dragon Breaks the Ranks. “Please don’t make me that pathetic rookie you couldn’t even deign to make even 0.1% of an effort for!”

“Hongbin!” Hana clapped her hands over her mouth.

“He won’t have enough HP to take that!” Mingyu jumped to his feet, deaf to the complaints of the people behind him.

Water Hyacinth ran forward, as if to meet the attack, until he was almost at the foot of the pillar where Golden Persona perched. With a deft shot, he launched himself in the air just before Golden Persona fired a beam of light, hovering over it. Water Hyacinth poised to take a series of shots and Golden Persona readied to deflect, but the shots struck the pillar and shattered it, sending the latter to the lava.

“Crap!” Jungkook yelled.

Water Hyacinth shot a paralyzing shot at Golden Persona so he couldn’t move, then sniped him in the head for half his HP. Falling into the lava finished him off.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Mingyu jumped in celebration.

“Lee Hongbin wins!” The emcee bellowed. “With his usual one-hit one-kill flair!”

“So awesome, Dad!” Yugyeom crowed, clapping like a happy seal. He stopped for a moment, shaking his head. “Sad for Jungkook but...” he clapped again. “But so awesome!!”

“Hey, wasn’t that a bit mean to the rookie?” Sooyeon questioned.

Hana nodded, sighing with both relief and exasperation. “A little... but Hongbin can only do either 0 or 100.”

Mingyu mimed firing a gun at Sooyeon. “Better 100 than a 0.”