#like no wonder Alan is such a mess

[jpriest85-blog]

I fell in love with @pdrrook Perfumare VN and IFs. While I'm still looking forward to seeing the rest of the story in Perfumare: Amalgam. I also got excited learning about the sequel Perfumare: Amalgam and came up with some concept art and info for my Shapeshifter MC, Gloria Jardin. I'm kind of jumping the gun ik, but I couldn't help it! I'm not sure how things will play out for Gloria, so I'll probably wind up having multiple routes saved like I did for my Allure MC, Liz Morren. Here's my info for Gloria so far. I'll probably wind up changing things once the sequel is officially released.

Name: Gloria Jardin

Animal form: Swan

Pronouns: she/her

Preferences: Bisexual

Birthday: January 24th

Height: 5ft10”/177.8cms

Appearance: A tall ethnically mixed woman, in her late twenties with a chestnut complexion and a dancer's build. A square shaped face with a cleft chin, full mouth and brown almond shaped eyes, her natural hair is black and coily, but as a Shapeshifter she can change her hair and eye color whenever it suits her mood. As does her fashion sense, and she's collected a pretty eclectic wardrobe over the years, depending on her mood and the occasion. From sleek suites paired with colorful avant-garde accessories to more theatrical clubbing outfits that could rival a Las Vegas show girls costume. Although she usually wears some sort of accessory or stylistic touch that has feathers or resembles swans.

Notable Features: A little gap in her front teeth, and long toned legs.

Personality: Gloria comes across as a classy, confident, intelligent and vibrant woman. Although it would surprise people to learn she went through an “ugly duckling” phase as a child. Considering the expectations put on her by her family growing up, she always felt like she never quite fit. In a way her childhood was similar to Laurent's trying so hard to be the “dutiful child ” to meet expectations and approval, and yet she was miserable. Although being away from her family ment Gloria finally got a chance to do things for herself and learn who she was as a person. Discovering she was Tier 4 Shape Shifter was kind of a relief actually. Well mostly she's still under watch from the government considering higher tier Shapeshifter's can potentially impersonate important people like government officials ect.

Although despite the fact that her gift is often associated with subterfuge and misdirection, Gloria herself tends to be a pretty honest person. She's wasted so much of her childhood trying to be what others wanted her to be, and it made her miserable. She's done with that bs, and she's not going to apologize for existing anymore! Although she does have enough class to recognize and apologize if she hurts someone. Even unintentionally by saying something thoughtless or blunt. Also, she still keeps enough social etiquette to show restraint when necessary. Although this does make her appreciate the fact she can take an animal from more. For Gloria, being able to turn into a Swan is cathartic, as she's not bound by the same rules as polite society if even for a little bit. She can fly, swim, and even bite people who piss her off.

Many people are often surprised to learn that she's friends with Alois Becker aka Marco and considers him like family. While Gloria did have a party girl phase and often went out dancing with Marco, she usually tries to keep him from doing anything too reckless that could get him seriously hurt. Although Gloria is fully capable of causing her share of havoc, she just prefers to be more discreet by Shape shifting into her swan form. While swans are very elegant and graceful birds, they have a huge wingspan and have been known to bite, so she can still do some serious damage if so inclined.

Thankfully, she's usually not as aggressive and reckless as Marco, although she sometimes feels more like an older sister/ young stepmother just trying to keep him from accidently getting himself killed. Although Marco will sometimes complain about Gloria becoming less “fun” as they've gotten older he appreciates the fact she cares enough to try, and the fact she's the only person who's always honest with him. Even though it means he usually gets roasted for being an idiot.

Headcanons & Additional info

Her name is a reference to a brand of perfumes, specifically Gloria Vanderbilt's Jardin à New York, which has a Swan debossed on the bottle. 

When it comes to her personal scent preferences, Gloria likes to use classic floral perfumes, particularly ones that smell like Gardenia.

Her Swan form is based on Mute Swans. Although she has been known to also take the form of Cygnet, since baby swans are so cute and fluffy. Perfect for when she wants others to lower their guard or needs to squeeze into smaller spaces. 

Gloria has always been fond of dancing and even took ballet lessons for many years. It's actually how she first met and befriended Alois/Marco. They were enrolled in the same dance class and performed well together when partners. Even during Gloria's party girl phase, she often helped choreographed dance routines for the clubs that made them both the life of the party. 

This also unfortunately fed into some of those “gold digger” rumors about her. Alois/Marco always likes to make an entrance, and what better way to ensure an audience than to show up with a tall, gorgeous woman who could pass for a model. Even though he only sees Gloria as a friend and sister figure, he's more than happy to play wingman, and likewise, Gloria is sociable enough to introduce him to actual super models. He can also act as protection in case drunken creeps try to hit on Gloria and don't take rejection well, which is sadly often. Alois/Marco's efforts to keep Gloria safe wind up unintentionally damaging her social reputation. Since many of these creeps also come from well-off families and don't get the fact that Gloria prefers Alois/Marco's company because he's her friend and respects her personal boundaries. They just assume she's only with him because he's got more money and/or his family owns the club.

Since Shapeshifters often have to thoroughly study an animal before they can take its shape, Gloria winds up developing an interest in swans and other birds. She has become a bit of an amateur Ornithologist and can even accurately mimic bird calls.

Gloria also has a love of learning and academics and in addition to being taught French by her family, she's become fluent in speaking, reading and writing many classical languages as well; Arabic, Chinese, Greek, Latin and Sanskrit.

She probably winds up getting a job in an academic field, which can be exciting for Gloria because she gets to learn so many new and fascinating things and earn new doctorates. It also means she struggles to be taken seriously since she's a lot younger than others in her field, not to mention it's difficult to get resources for research unless she's studying a subject that already has government funding, or wealthy patrons deem profitable. Not to mention her reputation for honesty means she often butts heads with higher ups on things like censorship and propaganda. 

[i3utterflyeffect]

i've thought too much about this. alan knows how to escape―portal out through wi-fi to the outernet. but i think he might stay on the computer since he knows that TCO might be created, and that moral obligation to stop the 3(?) years of suffering TCO would otherwise endure.

but also, there's a chance that noogai could create other stick figures to torment if untitled-3 and TCO escape without fighting much; the one guaranteed way to stop noogai is to cause irreparable damage to the PC.

so, with future knowledge, the events of AVAII and AVAIII could be condensed, untitled-3 could try to get noogai to draw TDL during the first fight with TCO, let them cause damage, before getting all of them out. though this might not pan out.

TRUE........ OUGH........ i could see him ending up just getting tamed though honestly if he tried though and stuck with chosen--

he could try and navigate to the ad from before, but honestly it might not be up yet--

but at least chosen isn't alone this time

[velvetjune]

(spoilers for alan wake games) thinking about awan again. i like how it included alice and it works a lot with whats shown of her in aw2: particularly like that the radio segments have her somewhat struggling to explain her documentary with how her film is separate to what she actually feels and knows happened irl. how she’s aware of the public perception of her and alan, and part of her making the documentary is responding to that and her own loss.

even in those interviews, the radio host still manages to turn everything about alan instead of alice and her own thoughts and film. she’s put in such an uncomfortable position of trying to be her own person. im glad her friend was there to guide the interview back towards her, but wow alice’s audio and videos in the games are hard to listen to

[blue-devil-of-the-lord]

Saw requests opened for Kurt and was wondering if you were interested in writing something for x-2 Kurt. Something like the reader is Charles' daughter, who left years before after a massive fight, and when Storm and Jean go to find Kurt, they also find the reader and it is revealed at some point the reader and Kurt are married and everyone is shocked because they are so different( maybe the reader is a necromancer(if a mutation needs to be mentioned)). Hope this isn't as confusing as I think it's coming off. Describing things is not my strong suit. Thank u

Against all Odds

Alan!Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 4.6K A/N: This took so incredibly long?! Really hope it was worth it. I also feel like I kind of messed up in the end, but I wanted to post it anyway.

It wasn't a smile that was on Jean's lips as Ro turned back to the centre of the church with misty eyes, but it was fascinating to see how quickly her friend could change from nice to scary. A strong wind blew up and caused the tarpaulins in the church to flutter. Pigeons soared as Ro spread her arms, eyes fixed on the bar above them, where the teleporter they had been searching for was perched.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, getting closer and closer, until seemingly out of nowhere, a bolt of lightning flashed through the room and struck the bar he was perched on. A scream escaped him as he fell, but before he could teleport away, Jean raised her hand, catching the mutant in mid-air.

His heavy breathing echoed off the walls and Jean twisted her hand slightly as she stepped closer, causing him to spin in the air.

"Got him?" Jean smiled at Ro from the side. "He's not going anywhere."

By now he was hanging upside down in the air, which allowed them to take a closer look at his face. His blue skin stood out clearly from his strange clothes and his golden eyes travelled rapidly around the room, wide open in panic. "Please, don't hurt me," he pleaded softly, still out of breath. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Ro raised an eyebrow beside her and the sarcasm in her voice highly amused Jean, despite the tense situation. "Where could people have gotten that impression from?" His eyes continued to dart back and forth between them.

"What's your name?"

Before he could answer, however, it became freezing cold in the church. Jean's gaze flew over to Ro, who shook her head. This was not her doing. Her breath became visible and a glance at the mutant in front of them showed her that it wasn't him, but he knew whose doing it was.

All at once she heard whispering. It wasn't much at first, just a lone voice that quickly swelled into a jumble of voices that gave her a headache. There was a cracking sound, similar to breaking bones, and Jean could see Ro turning round, looking for the source of the noise.

"Put me down, please." His voice was calm and he didn't seem remotely afraid, much more concerned for her well-being. "She's not in a good mood today, I don't want to..." Jean would never know what he didn't want, because at that moment a loud, cold, cutting voice echoed through the room.

"How dare you?" It was no more than a hiss, but it echoed off the walls, making it louder many times over. "How dare you threaten him, hurt him, touch him." The voice seemed to come from a corridor next to the altar and it sounded shockingly familiar to Jean, even if she was unable to determine exactly where. The floor began to shake beneath them, cracks appearing across the stone, and Jean had to lean on one of the benches to keep from falling.

The man, still in the air, shouted something she couldn't understand. It made no difference. Jean reached out in her mind for the person, hoping to reach them, but to her surprise was pushed out with a sharp push that gave her another headache. The tremor intensified, but Jean was not afraid. The small glimpse into the person's mind was enough for her to recognise them.

"Reaper, that's enough!" The tremors subsided and the cracks stopped spreading, but the whispering and rustling remained, as did the cold. She looked over to the corridor, from which a shadow finally emerged, slowly approaching. Jean had already realised who it was, but she couldn't truly believe it until the light shining through the church hit her face. Next to her, she heard Ro gasping for air. "Reaper?" A hiss sounded from the woman in front of them, who was now standing almost directly behind the man. "I haven't been a the Reaper for years." Her head turned to Jean. "Now put him down."

Her voice was pressed, almost threatening, and Jean lowered the man carefully. As soon as his feet touched the ground, she stepped to his side and wrapped an arm around him as he slumped to the floor, groaning, taken by the stress Jean had put on him. As she murmured something to him, to which he only nodded, Jean noticed how the whispering slowly subsided and the coldness receded. She glanced at Ro. Neither of them had expected this, not even the professor.

~**~

She knelt beside him, her arm on his back, and let her eyes wander over his body, looking for wounds, but couldn't see any. "I told you not to do anything stupid," she murmured, smiling slightly at him. "I can't let you out of my sight now, can I?" His smile was half-hearted, but he returned it. "I'm sorry, Liebling."

Tenderly, she ran her fingers over his cheek, the symbols of his skin under her tips so familiar by now that she could draw them in her sleep. "It's okay, I'll take care of it." She tried to get up, but he held her back by her wrist. "Don't do anything stupid." She smiled down at him and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. " Oh, I won't."

Kurt grinned slightly and let go of her wrist so that she could stand up. As soon as she turned to the two women, however, her loving smile turned into a mask of coldness. "What do you want?"

Jean stepped lightly on her, disbelief still clearly present on her face. "How long have you lived here? Where have you been? Why-?" She didn't let the redhead finish. "You know exactly why," she hissed quietly, clenching her fists as she slowly pushed herself in front of the injured Kurt. "What I want to know is why you're here?" Jean, still somewhat taken aback, didn't seem to want to answer as Ororo stepped forward instead. "We're here because of him." She nodded over to Kurt. "Your friend has done some things that have put us all in danger."

By now her fingernails were cutting into her palms and she looked at the white-haired woman with narrowed eyes. "You will not touch him. You will not hurt him." The ground began to shake beneath her feet again and she could see the two women exchanging glances, but she didn't care. If necessary, she would fight them both - even if Kurt didn't like it, she would do it on sacred ground.

No one would snatch Kurt from her a second time, no one. Not her, not the government, not anyone else. "He's innocent. Go!" It wasn't a plea and her voice was clearly dripping with venom, which was why Jean raised her hands. "We don't want to hurt him, just talk. Whether you want to realise it or not, he did attack the President of the United States."

She heard Kurt flinch and anger boiled up inside her. It had been a long time since Kurt had even been able to look her in the eye and she wasn't going to let them put the burden of guilt on his shoulders again.

"He's innocent," she hissed and more cracks began to appear across the marble tiles in the floor, though it all came to an end the moment something tentatively wrapped itself around her wrist. Kurt had his tail wrapped around and was shaking his head tentatively. "Please, don't."

Instantly, the hot knot of anger in her stomach disappeared and she could feel her features soften. "Okay." Her gaze slid back to the two women, cold and unyielding, but no longer murderous. "Go, please. It wasn't his fault. He couldn't hurt a fly. Please." She didn't give either of them another glance as she helped Kurt up and led him over to the altar, where he settled down, groaning slightly. She knew that both Jean and Ororo were still in the church, even approaching, but her priority was to tend to Kurt.

She gently helped him out of his coat, jacket and shirt, the latter stained with blood, and shook her head at the sight before her. The security guard's bullet wound was on his arm, but she could see several bruises and smaller wounds scattered across his torso. "You really need to take better care of yourself," she muttered as he lay down and she began to search in her pockets for the disinfectant and cotton pads.

Kurt gave her a weak but sincere smile. "But I have you to fix me up." She gave him a small smile, though she knew she wouldn't be able to remove the worry from her face. Continuing to ignore the two women, she dipped the cotton ball with the tweezers into the disinfectant and looked over at him. "This is going to hurt."

His tail wrapped around her waist and squeezed lightly and confidently. Carefully, though not hesitantly, she pressed the cotton ball onto his wound. His body tensed, stiffened and his back arched up from the altar. A pained groan escaped him and she closed her eyes for a moment so as not to see the agony on his face. It had been five years and she still couldn't bear to see him hurt and in pain.

"It's all right, you're doing great," she murmured and hurried to clean the wound as best she could. Thank goodness the wound wasn't deep, so there was no need for stitches. "Good boy." He snorted in amusement, albeit painfully, and she gave him an equally pained smile.

She gently lifted the cotton pad and another hiss escaped him, which she tried to calm by making soothing noises. She applied the bandage as quickly as she could, even though he still let out the odd groan of pain, but he seemed to grit his teeth. " You see? Already over." She leant forward and pressed a feather-light, barely perceptible kiss over the bandage. "I need to take all this away and get you some new, clean clothes. Can I-?"

She didn't finish the sentence, but a twitch of her eyes in the direction of the two women was enough to convey what she wanted to say. Kurt smiled slightly and gave a barely perceptible nod. "You go ahead. They won't hurt me."

She seemed to look sceptical, which she was, as he groped for her hand and took it in his. "It's okay, Liebling. I can take care of myself." "We've seen that," she murmured, but stroked his forehead affectionately before standing up and glaring at Ro and Jean. "I'm right next door. If one of you even thinks about hurting or touching him, you'll more than regret it." She didn't have to look at them to know that they'd heard her warning, the tension radiating from them a clear sign that the message had been received.

Kurt mumbled something quietly, but it was in German and her knowledge was not yet good enough to understand him at such a mumbled volume. She contented herself with running her hand through his hair and affectionately tugging at a strand in warning before leaving the room.

The rubbish was quickly disposed of and on her way back she grabbed some fresh clothes, hurrying back as fast as she could. Once there, she was disgruntled to realise that Ororo and Jean had moved closer and were now standing right next to him. She could just hear the last words coming out of the redhead's mouth. "- the professor."

Instantly she tensed, still covered by the shadows of the pillars. It didn't take a telepath to know who they were talking about and she didn't like it at all. She had managed without him for five years and she wouldn't need him now.

Kurt, however, seemed curious as he cocked his head slightly. "The professor?" Neither of them answered his question, instead Ororo gently ran her fingers over his torso. Instantly, her grip tightened around his clothes and she had to suppress a snarl. She wasn't territorial or some other primitive instinct, but she didn't like it when people touched Kurt without asking him. Especially when it came to his scars, which were more than a weak spot for him.

"Did you do these yourself?" She closed her eyes, hesitant as to whether she should intervene. It wasn't up to her to talk about it, it was Kurt's business and she didn't want to come across as any more overprotective than she already was, so she continued to keep to the shadows. The rising whispers, however, were hard to ignore.

Kurt didn't seem to want to talk about it though, as he gave nothing more than a faint "yes" before turning round. She slowly emerged from the shadows, but not before Jean had discovered something on the back of his neck. "And what about this?"

"I told you it wasn't his fault." Her voice was sharper and colder than she intended, but she couldn't suppress it any longer as she stepped forward and placed herself between Kurt and the two women.

She hated it when Kurt had to talk about his scars, knowing full well what they meant to him. They had talked about it often and at length, especially coming from her, as such behaviour could not be healthy and it hurt her to see him in pain.

The last scar had been added four years ago. For her sake and after a few hours of intense conversation, which led him to a realisation, he had stopped.

"Mind control?" Jean asked, but she turned her back to her to stroke Kurt's arm reassuringly. "I suppose so. We don't know who, though, so don't bother asking."

There was silence while Kurt changed, supported by her. Jean only spoke up again when Kurt was able to stand next to them.  "Come with us." She laughed snidely. "You're not serious, are you? You know what happened, you know why I left and yet you want to drag me back? Forget it." Kurt's tail wrapped itself gently around her middle and the tip ran soothingly over her side as he felt the floor begin to shake.

"The whole United States is after your friend," Ororo objected and she felt Kurt flinch.

"Let them try," she growled, reaching for Kurt's sleeve. "They won't get him. I won't let them."

"We're just trying to help." Ororo sounded almost desperate, but she knew no mercy as her cold laughter echoed off the walls. "Oh yes, of course. The noble help of you fine people. Our saviours are here, we don't have to worry anymore."

"Liebling," Kurt murmured and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked over at him and realised with a mixture of surprise and dismay that he didn't seem as opposed to the idea as she was. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" She stiffened, anticipating the direction the conversation would take and not liking it at all.

"Kurt, you can't be serious," she hissed, turning away from the two women. "I've told you several times why I left, why I never want to go there again."

"And I understand that," he returned, his tail detaching from her to twitch nervously behind him. She instantly missed his closeness. "And under different circumstances, I would agree with you and watch you chase them away. But the situation has changed. I'm wanted all over the United States. And even if we're not there right now, they'll find me, find us." He stroked her cheek gently. "And I don't like the idea of you getting hurt because of me."

"I wouldn't care. I'd fight them all," she returned, knowing it was useless. "I don't want to. I don't want you to fight for me."

She closed her eyes in agony. "Darling-"

"I know," he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. "I know it's not fair and I'm sorry. But I just want you to be safe. Please." There was something so pleading about his voice that she knew she wouldn't be able to hold out. She still found it hard to admit. "All right," she murmured, feeling Kurt's tail curling up her leg. "But at the slightest sign of danger, we run."

~**~

Of course it became dangerous. And of course they were sitting in an plane at the time, which was threatening to crash, so they couldn't run.

She stared in horror behind her at the gaping hole from which one of the children, she thought her name was Rogue, had just fallen. Kurt squeezed her hand and she spun round to face him. His gaze was pleading and it took no words to understand what he wanted her permission for. She closed her eyes for a moment to stifle the rising panic that threatened to swell inside her before she nodded.

A life was at stake, she couldn't have the luxury of panic. For a fleeting moment, she felt his lips against her forehead before the familiar 'BAMF' sounded and his hand disappeared from hers.

No more than three or four seconds could have passed, but they felt like an eternity before another 'BAMF' sounded and Kurt slammed to the floor of the plane with Rogue in his arms.

She sobbed with relief and forgot for a moment that they were crashing. That was until Jean gasped as the gaping hole behind them began to close of its own accord and the jet slowed down. She didn't have to think long to realise who had caught her so gracefully and she continued to tense up in her seat, even as the jet carefully touched down. It seemed as if her past really was finally coming back to haunt her.

Touching down on Earth, the others began to scurry around Kurt and Rogue and as much as she wanted to get to him, she knew she wasn't going to get there. Instead, she decided to face their welcoming committee.

To say he was surprised would have been an understatement as Erik watched her climb down the ladder towards him. "That I get to see this sight again." A thin line came to her lips, but she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Miracles happen all the time. I never thought I'd see you outside of a plastic cell." His smile turned bitter. "Little Ms Xavier, same mouth as her old man."

"Xavier?" She turned round. The others had left the jet by now, and except for Ororo, Jean and Kurt, the others were staring at her with a variety of emotions on their faces.

Erik stepped closer and her body stiffened. "Yes, Xavier. Don't tell me Reaper didn't tell you about her connection with your dear professor?"

"Don't call me that," she hissed, taking a few steps back so she was standing next to Kurt, whose tail instantly wrapped around her middle. "I left that name behind a long time ago." Erik's gaze lingered on Kurt for a few moments and she didn't like the way he was looking at him. "I can see that."

Before he could talk to her further, however, Ororo stepped forward and his smug smile returned. "I think we should talk." After some back and forth, which she only half-heartedly followed, they seemed to reluctantly agree to follow Erik. She didn't take her eyes off Kurt for a moment. "You scared me to death," she muttered, clutching his arm a little tighter than necessary. "I hate it when you do that."

"I know."

"You did the right thing, though, as much as it makes me sick." She pressed a kiss against his cheek. "I'm proud of you my love." He smiled down at her. "I love you too."

~**~

"Are you sure you're okay?" They stood apart from the others, in the shade of several trees, and she let her hand rest anxiously on his cheek. Kurt turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss against her palm. "I'm fine, love." She exhaled and wrapped her arms around him to hold him closer, to feel him as his heart pounded beneath her fingers. Soothingly, his hand ran over her back as his tail wrapped gently around her. He rested his head on hers.

"I hate it when you're in pain. Even if it's mental."

She had been against Jean rummaging around in his memory from the start, but everyone else, including her husband, seemed to be in favour of it, which was why she had been forced to watch Kurt relive the agonising hours of the last few days. "I know," he murmured, pulling her closer to him. "But I feel fine." There was silence for a while as they stood close together under the trees before she lifted her head.

"Promise me you'll be careful tomorrow. Plan or no plan, it always goes wrong. It's kind of a tradition with us." Kurt smiled down at her before taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss to them. "I swear I'll do my best not to get hurt." Playfully, the tip of his tail flicked against her cheek. "I have a very good reason to get out of this alive."

"Charmer," she murmured before leaning up and kissing him gently. His response was just as tender. No tongue, no teeth, just gentle, soft love. At least until they were interrupted by a snort. More annoyed than startled, she looked up to see Logan, the grumpy old man, standing there with a cigar in his mouth, scowling at them. "You do realise there are children present?" She huffed and put an arm around Kurt's waist. "I'm pretty sure some of these 'kids' have done worse things than kiss their partners."

"Pretty sure they're not married, though." Her face seemed to look hilarious as he laughed harshly. "Girl, you may wear a lot of rings, but that one does stand out a bit. Plus, the blue elf isn't exactly subtle with the necklace and ring around his neck."

She clicked her tongue in annoyance and only Kurt's hand on her back and its reassuring circles ensured that she didn't immediately go for his throat. "Problem with that?"

"No." Logan turned away, but she knew he was still grinning broadly. "As long as you don't get too freaky. Might be awkward to explain." Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. "I hate him."

"No you don't," Kurt murmured, pulling her closer to him.

~**~

Needless to say, things didn't go according to plan. As good as her judgements have been lately, she could be a fortune teller, she grumbled quietly to herself as she turned the next sharp corner. She and Kurt had been separated and, judging by the noises around them, the situation didn't really look good for them either. However, she could hear the children's voices and ran after them, not only because Kurt was also with them, but because she knew that if she could hear them, the soldiers could too.

Just as she turned the last corner, a scream rang out, followed by gunfire. She stood stock-still and looked at what was happening in front of her for a moment. She had come up behind the soldiers. Opposite her were a group of children trying to hide behind the adults. Jean was supporting a battered-looking Scott, who was about to raise his hand. Next to them stood Logan, a child in his arms, claws raised and a grim snarl on his face.

What drew her focus, however, were the other three people. Ororo, together with Kurt, she almost collapsed in relief at the sight of him uninjured, an older man with a bald head. He looked older and frailer than she remembered, but there was no mistaking who the man was: Charles Xavier. Professor X. Her father.

Her throat tightened and, as if he could sense her presence (which he probably could), his gaze drifted over to her and his eyes widened, his expression slipping. Were those tears that made his eyes sparkle?

The moment didn't last long, however, as the soldiers raised their weapons at that moment - and pointed them at Kurt.

A growl escaped her as every corner of her body was flooded with a tingling power that made the floor shake.

"Get your hands off my husband." Her voice was not her own. It was the voice of the hundreds, thousands of souls that were haunting the place and bending to her will.

Cracks formed across the floor and began to gape open before skeletal hands reached for the sky. The children shrieked, but for the moment she didn't care. Her focus was on the soldiers who had managed to locate the source of the quake as they now looked at her.

Her smile was grim. "He's mine."

A dark fog settled over her before she even dared to fight. She wanted to spare the children the sight. The soldiers shouted orders at each other, and the odd stray shot rang out, but in the end, they had no chance. Her methods were merciful—swift, painless, and non-lethal. When the fog cleared, only a few groaning men lay on the ground. "Reaper?" Scott was the first to find his voice. She smiled slightly at him, though her focus remained on Kurt and her father. "Hey, Scott." "You're married?!" he exclaimed. She groaned, picking up one of the children running towards her. "Of course that's what you're hung up on."

"My love." She had to close her eyes for a moment; the sound of her father's voice was too painfully familiar. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she had missed him terribly. "How—?"

"I'm afraid we don't have time for sentimentality." Logan's gruff interruption was a welcome relief. In that moment, she decided Logan was her absolute favorite person. She shot her father a quick sideways glance before starting to walk. "We'll talk later." She could feel his gaze burning into her back the entire way outside.

~**~

It felt strange to be back in the mansion. She refused to call it "home," even though the word often lingered on the tip of her tongue, only to be swallowed back. Her room now faced the courtyard, offering a clear view of the people outside. She had been offered her old room but had firmly declined. Below, she watched Jean, badly injured but alive, being carefully led through the garden by Scott. It had been a close call, but Jean had survived the mission. Not far from her, she saw Hank deep in conversation with Kurt. She couldn't make out their words, but seeing her husband so animated and happy brought a smile to her face.

"Your husband seems to like it here." She wasn't startled when her father's voice came from behind her. She was more surprised that he hadn't approached her sooner, likely giving her space or waiting for a moment when she was alone. "Kurt isn't used to being around so many mutants, especially those with such visible mutations. It's good for him." "So, you're going to stay then?" There it was. The question that had clearly been weighing on him, the one he desperately needed to ask. She tore her gaze away from her husband and turned to face her father, folding her arms.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Everything inside me is screaming to leave this place. And you're not making it any easier." She saw the pain flash across his face, but there was no point in sugarcoating the truth. He knew how she felt, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"You hurt me deeply. More than that. But Kurt loves it here, and I love Kurt." Her eyes bore into his, unflinching. "But I love him more than I despise you." He swallowed hard, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes. "If Kurt wants to stay, I'll stay. For his sake. Not because of you."

[muiitoloko]

11 o'clock girl

Summary: The sheriff notices you and makes you the 11 o'clock girl.

Pairing: Sheriff of Nottingham × Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, questionable consent, degradation.

Author Notes: Hey folks! First off, a big shoutout to all 150 of you wonderful followers! *pops open a bottle of budget-friendly champagne* Now, let me tell you about my recent dive into the cinematic masterpiece that is "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves." Can we just take a moment to appreciate Alan Rickman's brilliance in that movie? He practically swiped the spotlight from Costner like a pro pickpocket!

So, I decided to scribble down a few thoughts about the character, but fair warning, I might have taken some creative liberties here and there. So, if the Sheriff of Nottingham ends up doing something completely outlandish, just roll with it, okay? Oh, and I should probably mention that I didn't bother proofreading this gem. Hey, blame it on my laziness! But I promise I'll clean up the mess later. Cheers to that! 🥂

As a lowly servant in the castle of Nottingham, you've always known the dangers of catching the Sheriff's eye. His reputation for cruelty and ruthlessness precedes him, and you've seen firsthand the consequences of crossing him. But when the Sheriff notices you, it's not fear that grips your heart—it's a chilling sense of dread mixed with a strange fascination.

At first, it's just a fleeting glance, a passing acknowledgment of your presence as you go about your duties. But soon, those glances turn into lingering stares, his piercing brown eyes boring into your soul with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine.

You try to keep your distance, avoiding him whenever possible and praying that he'll lose interest and move on to someone else. But the Sheriff is relentless, his obsession with you growing with each passing day until it becomes impossible to ignore.

One night, as you're tidying up the Great Hall after a banquet, you feel his presence behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he leans in close. "You have a name, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice sending a chill down your spine.

You nod nervously, unable to speak as fear grips your throat like a vice. But the Sheriff doesn't seem to notice—or perhaps he just doesn't care—as he continues to hover close, his gaze burning into your skin with an intensity that makes you squirm.

"I want you," he said abruptly, his words sending shockwaves of terror through your body. The implication hung heavy in the air, leaving you trembling with fear at the thought of what he might do to you.

But before you could respond, the Sheriff gave you a chilling command. "Come to my quarters at 11," he instructed, his voice dripping with authority. "And don't be late."

You nodded numbly, too terrified to refuse as the Sheriff smiled contentedly to himself before leaving, leaving you shaking in his wake. As you stood alone in the Great Hall, the weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket, filling you with a sense of dread and helplessness.

The thought of what awaited you in the Sheriff's quarters made your stomach churn with nausea, but you knew that disobeying him was not an option. With a heavy heart, you resigned yourself to your fate, knowing that you had no choice but to obey his command.

As the clock struck 11, you found yourself standing outside the Sheriff's quarters, your heart pounding in your chest as you knocked on the door with trembling hands. The seconds stretched into eternity as you waited, the anticipation building with each passing moment until finally, the door swung open, revealing the Sheriff standing before you.

He was dressed only in his pants, his black hair tousled and his brown eyes gleaming with amusement as he greeted you with a sly grin. "Ah, the 11 o'clock girl," he purred, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Right on time, as always."

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry with fear as you stepped into his quarters, your eyes darting nervously around the room. But before you could utter a word, the Sheriff turned away from you, his attention drawn to the woman lying in his bed.

"Time to go, darling," he said casually, his tone dismissive as he addressed the woman who lay beside him. "You were the 10:45 girl, weren't you? Off you go now, before I lose interest."

The woman scrambled to get dressed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she hurriedly gathered her belongings and fled the room, leaving you alone with the Sheriff once more. As the door closed behind her, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over you, the realization sinking in that you were not the only one he had summoned tonight.

But as you looked at the Sheriff, his gaze lingering on you with a hunger that sent a chill down your spine, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. You had been summoned here for a reason, and now it was time to face whatever fate awaited you.

But as the Sheriff approached you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, a wave of doubt washed over you, your mind reeling with questions and uncertainties. Did you truly want this? Did you have any choice in the matter?

As he drew closer, his hands reaching out to touch you, you couldn't help but flinch, your body recoiling instinctively from his touch. But the Sheriff paid no mind to your hesitation, his eyes blazing with desire as he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a rough and possessive kiss.

As the Sheriff pulled you into his embrace, his hands roaming over your trembling form, a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine. Despite your fear and uncertainty, there was something undeniably thrilling about being in the presence of such a powerful and commanding man.

"You're trembling, my dear," the Sheriff remarked, his voice dripping with amusement as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Nervous, are we? Or perhaps just excited to finally be in my arms?"

You couldn't help but blush at his words, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you struggled to maintain your composure. But the Sheriff only chuckled darkly, his hands wandering lower as he pulled you closer, his touch sending sparks of desire coursing through your veins.

"Tell me, darling," he murmured, his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you know why I summoned you here tonight? Or are you content to let me take what I want without a word of protest?"

His words sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through you, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. But before you could respond, the Sheriff silenced you with a searing kiss, his lips hungry and demanding as he claimed you as his own.

As his hands roamed over your body with a possessive urgency, you surrendered yourself to him completely, your mind clouded with desire as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment. And as the Sheriff guided you towards the bed with a predatory gleam in his eyes, you knew that there was no turning back now.

He paused for a moment, his fingers caressing your thigh with a disturbing mix of possessiveness and curiosity, he posed a question that made your heart race with apprehension.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, his voice laced with a cruel edge as he studied your reaction.

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry with fear as you stuttered out a nervous "no." The truth was that servants like you were rarely virgins, your station in life leaving you with very few options and even fewer expectations of finding a husband.

The Sheriff nodded, his fingers trailing under your servant's dress, which was little more than a rag draped over your body. "How many men have you been with, then?" he inquired, his tone mocking and derisive.

You lowered your gaze respectfully, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as you admitted, "Only one, milord. A stable boy here at the castle."

The Sheriff's brow quirked in amusement, a sardonic smile playing on his lips as he considered your response. "Ah, a stable boy," he remarked dryly. "Is he your betrothed, then? Your one true love?"

You shook your head quickly, your voice barely above a whisper as you denied his assumption. "No, milord. We were... merely acquaintances."

The Sheriff chuckled darkly at your response, his fingers continuing to roam over your trembling form as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Well, my dear, it seems you and I have something in common," he murmured, his voice dripping with malice. "Neither of us is meant for love, only for pleasure."

You shuddered at his words, a chill of dread creeping down your spine as you realized the true nature of your predicament. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you knew that there was no escape from the Sheriff's clutches—that you were nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game of power and desire.

And as he pressed his lips to yours once more, his touch hungry and possessive, you resigned yourself to your fate, knowing that there was no turning back now.

As the Sheriff of Nottingham stripped away your meager garment, revealing your naked form to him, a predatory grin spread across his lips, his brown eyes gleaming with a cruel hunger. His gaze lingered hungrily on your exposed body, savoring every curve and contour as if he were appraising a prized possession.

"You're beautiful, my dear," he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he traced a finger along the curve of your hip. "Almost too beautiful to be a mere servant."

You flinched at his touch, feeling a chill of dread wash over you as you realized the true extent of your vulnerability. But before you could protest or beg for mercy, the Sheriff's hands were already moving with purpose, stripping away your last shred of modesty with callous disregard.

As he tossed your underwear aside, leaving you completely exposed before him, you couldn't help but tremble with fear and shame, your heart pounding in your chest as you braced yourself for what was to come.

The Sheriff's smile widened at the sight of your nakedness, his eyes devouring you with an insatiable hunger that made your skin crawl. He wasted no time in making his intentions clear, his movements rough and commanding as he positioned himself between your legs, his erection throbbing with anticipation.

With one hand gripping your thigh possessively, the Sheriff used his other hand to guide his throbbing member towards your entrance, his touch sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

"No, please, wait," you pleaded, your voice trembling with desperation as you tried in vain to reason with him. But the Sheriff paid no heed to your protests, his lustful desires driving him forward with relentless determination.

Ignoring your cries, he thrust himself into you with brutal force, causing you to cry out in agony as he stretched you beyond your limits. You were not ready for him, not prepared for the searing pain that tore through your body with each merciless thrust.

But the Sheriff showed no mercy, his movements relentless as he claimed you as his own, his grunts of pleasure mingling with your cries of pain. He was rough and demanding, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he pounded into you with a primal intensity.

"Ah, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice thick with lust as he reveled in the sensation of your warmth enveloping him. "That stable boy clearly didn't know what he was doing if he left you like this."

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to endure the agonizing pleasure, your mind clouded with a dizzying mix of pain and arousal. The Sheriff's thrusts were relentless, each one driving you closer to the edge of oblivion as he claimed you as his own.

And as he pressed your hand against your lower stomach, forcing you to feel the full extent of his penetration with each thrust, you realized with a sickening sense of despair that there was no escape from his clutches—that you were nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game of power and desire.

As the Sheriff continued to thrust into you with a relentless determination, his words became more cutting, his voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain.

"You like this, don't you?" he taunted, his breath hot against your ear as he reveled in your helpless submission. "A filthy little servant like you, enjoying being used like a common whore."

You whimpered at his words, a mixture of shame and arousal coursing through your veins as you struggled to reconcile your conflicting emotions. You knew you shouldn't be enjoying this, shouldn't be responding to his cruel words with such eagerness, but you couldn't help yourself.

With each thrust, the Sheriff seemed to find new ways to demean and degrade you, his words like daggers piercing your already fragile sense of self-worth.

"You're nothing but a plaything to me," he sneered, his tone laced with contempt as he continued to pound into you with a punishing rhythm. "A worthless little whore, good for nothing but spreading your legs and taking whatever I give you."

But instead of recoiling from his words, you found yourself growing more aroused with each insult, your body responding eagerly to his dominating presence. With a newfound sense of confidence, you reached out and grabbed the Sheriff's back, pulling him closer to you as you urged him to intensify his thrusts.

The Sheriff's eyes widened in surprise at your boldness, a dark grin spreading across his lips as he realized the depth of your depravity. "Well, well, it seems our little servant has a bit of a backbone after all," he chuckled, his voice tinged with amusement. "I like that. Let's see how much you can take, shall we?"

With a renewed sense of purpose, you gripped the Sheriff's ass firmly, urging him to thrust into you harder and faster as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of the moment. Despite the pain and humiliation, there was something undeniably exhilarating about being dominated by such a powerful and commanding man.

And as the Sheriff chuckled darkly at your eagerness, his hands roaming over your trembling form with a possessive urgency, you knew that there was no turning back now—that you were his to command, body and soul. And strangely, in that moment, you wouldn't have it any other way.

As the Sheriff took your hand off his ass and pinned it to the bed above your head, you felt a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. His touch was rough yet electrifying, sending shivers of anticipation racing down your spine as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of the moment.

Leaning down, the Sheriff pressed his lips to your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he trailed down to your collarbone. With effortless strength, he took your other hand and pinned them together above your head, his large hand easily holding them in place against the mattress.

You moaned with pleasure, the sound music to the Sheriff's ears as he reveled in the intoxicating power he held over you. With each thrust, he drove you to new heights of ecstasy, his movements relentless and commanding as he claimed you as his own.

As he kissed down your collarbone, the Sheriff couldn't help but marvel at the scent of soap on your skin, a stark contrast to the other women he had been with. "You smell divine," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration as he praised you for your cleanliness.

But you were lost in pleasure, your eyes closed and face contorted in ecstasy as you surrendered yourself completely to the Sheriff's desires. With each thrust, your back arched and your body writhed beneath him, the sensations overwhelming your senses as you neared the brink of climax.

The Sheriff watched you with a hunger that bordered on obsession, his brown eyes dark with desire as he imagined what it would be like to see you cum on his dick. It was a thought that had never crossed his mind before, the idea of giving pleasure to a woman rather than just taking what he needed.

But as he gazed down at you, lost in pleasure and utterly vulnerable beneath him, the Sheriff felt a strange sense of longing stirring within him. He wanted to see your expression as you reached the peak of ecstasy, to witness the raw, unbridled passion on your face as you surrendered yourself completely to him.

With a newfound sense of determination, the Sheriff quickened his pace, driving you towards the edge of oblivion with each powerful thrust. And as you cried out in ecstasy, your body convulsing beneath him as waves of pleasure washed over you, he knew that he would stop at nothing to make you his own.

For in that moment, as you lay beneath him, utterly vulnerable and completely surrendered to his desires, the Sheriff realized that he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side—to possess you body and soul, now and forever.

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 6)

🌊 THANK YOU to all my 150 followers! Sorry, I didn’t get to draw an illustration this week BUT the wonderful @oskidontle had blessed me with this lovely fanart of Mer!Pim (thank you again), Please follow them and check out their own awesome Smiling Mermaids AU!✨

Charlie and Mipnessa got along swimmingly enough for two people who just met each other that day…unless, Charlie pondered, if they just-so happen to have already met! Charlie took note of how Mipnessa vaguely resembled the mystery person of whom he recalled rescuing him that morning…and while he wasn’t quite sure at first, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and potentially refresh her memory; He also had a string gut feeling that it wouldn’t be wise to potentially out her as one of the elusive merfolk out of politeness….if not being proven wrong and labeled as a silly-hearted daydream-believer. Charlie ran back to his quarters to swipe the green cloak that was left behind to gently fold it up, then he started rummaging through his closet for a perfectly-sized decorative shoebox to place inside of as a grandiose gesture to Mipnessa before running back to bequeath the gift. “Y’know I have a funny hunch that this is something you’d totally look great in.” The flattered Mipnessa giggled in response: “Showering me with gifts already? You must take a fancy to me.” Feeling overwhelmed with butterflies in his stomach, Charlie blushed with a nervous grin. Mipnessa opened the box and held up the cloak, while she admired the deep emerald green shade, she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what fabric was used for it or could she figure out why it smelled like the brine of clam chowder. “It’s beautiful, and it matches my dress way better than the shawl I’m wearing too.” Charlie replied with a fairly obvious double-meaning: “A match made in heaven.” as he held her hand and proposed: “Perfect for an atmospheric afternoon-to-evening stroll, lemme show you to the outskirts of the palace, the sunset views are amazing out there!”

Meanwhile, Alan had just caught up with the rest of the party as an eagerly-lovestruck Pim alongside a curious Glep followed Graham Nelly to the crisp shore nearby Prince Charlie’s castle. “I can’t wait to see his cute face again!” Pim squealed in delight while fidgeting his hands, Alan sternly reminded him with a business-like tone to mask his anxiety: “We’re here to fetch back your cloak, so that nobody could recognize you and drag you back to that toxic, discourse-infested mess of a palace; We also really shouldn’t stay up here for too long lest we want to be some crazed stowaway’s four-course meal.” Pim’s glee briefly turned into annoyance as he was tempted to roll his eyes at his paranoid friend’s repetitive jargon had it not been for the fact that unlike his family, Alan’s “survival mode”-demeanor was out of genuine concern and love rather than blind bigotry over land folk. When the group made it to their destination, they would come to find that much to their surprise, Charlie was indeed out-and-about, bringing an unexpected guest with him for a neat little walk by the sparkling sapphire waves. While the party of sea critters hid behind the conveniently large rock while observing the scene from a far, they all quickly took notice that the lady accompanying Charlie was wearing an accessory all too familiar to Pim, who shook his head in disbelief before taking another look to find that Charlie was clearly flirting with with her as well. While Alan started discussing a plan to swipe the cloak with Graham, Glep took notice how his buddy Pim was doing. “My cloak…” Pim quietly uttered while overwhelmed with a flurry of mixed emotions, flashing between shock, confusion, hurt feelings and jealously all boiling down into unbridled fury. Glep never saw Pim this angry since that time he was just a teenager and his sister Amy tore the lock on his diary and blurted out all his secrets, including who he was crushing on at the time. Something REALLY must have struck a cord with the usually understanding and compassionate mercritter…

Graham proposed: “We could, like, wrangle a bunch of dolphins together to create a huuuuge wave and splash it right on her so that Prince guy can offer to hang it up for her and when they leave we can snag it from a clothes line, concrete plan!” Alan argued in a snippy-yet-monotone inflection: “Yeah but there’s no clothes line anywhere near water, besides, it would take us all night to achieve that plan anyways.” Graham then got another bright idea: “I know JUST the thing, dude. I have in my collection and it’s this neat tool called a grappling hook! It’s what land folks use to retrieve items from far-away.“ Alan rolled his eyes with an exasperated yawn. “Oh really? Go off I guess.” Graham happily explained: “It’s this long-ass stick with a string attached and at the end of the string it’s a hook! and you toss it far enough and the hook catches-“ he was cut off by a loud, panicked gasp from the horrified Alan, who furiously chided Graham while using his claws as gestures to express his disgust: “You keep a literal weapon used for catching and eating our kind?!! What in Davy Jones’ locker is the matter with you?!” Graham casually shrugged, replying: “I’ve only ever seen something like this being used to catch fish only to throw them back, like they kept catching fish but it’s obvious that she was trying to retrieve something she lost down there.” Alan stood there dumbfounded with his left eye twitching for a few seconds, until he broke silence with a sigh with one claw on his face, “Look, It would just be easier for one of us to sneak up to that lady and quietly snag the cloak away from her.” Graham cheered: “That’s it!” Alan realized exactly what he had in mind and groaned: “Alright, I understand now that I have to put my big-boy shell on.” Glep piped up: “Eskewazebewaboyo!”, Pim’s face perked up at the suggestion. Graham agreed: “Hell yeah! They’ll be too distracted to notice Alan, they’ll be all like: Oh, where is that heavenly sound coming from? Ha! It’ll be a synch!” Alan gulped, “Well, here goes nothing.”

During the conversions Charlie ignited while subtly prying for clues, he had realized that Mipnessa wasn’t the mystery critter. First off, she knew how to swim but preferred to go sailing over swimming. Second she does sing but her voice was rather different from what he had in mind BUT she did play the lute well. Lastly and most glaringly obvious of all was that she had just embarked on Eustace’s ship at the same time the rescue took place and was still miles away from Gremblonia. That being said, Charlie was perfectly content with having Mipnessa as a bride, she may have not been an exotic dream girl but she was a charmingly meek and proper lady whose lute could harmonize well with his ocarina! “You know Mipnessa, I could take you sailing on our ship and go on one of my wild adventures out at sea, maybe we’ll take on a kraken or get into a gang fight with pirates.” Charlie proposed in a suave tone, in response Mipnessa sheepishly loosened up the green cloak ‘round her shoulders, replying: “…y’know, maybe I would like that.” for a brief moment that felt like forever, the two locked eyes and gazed at each other’s presence for what felt like forever. As the sunset started melting into nighttime, the most angelic voice made it’s way to the couple’s eardrums, snapping them out of their trance. Charlie started running around frantically looking for the sound as Mipnessa’s curiosity peaked, joining him as she didn’t pay any mind to Alan’s pincer clinging onto the cloak slipping off of her shoulders. Once the cloak was freed from Mipnessa’s grasp, Alan scurried back fast he could before they’d notice. Meanwhile back behind “home base”, Pim peaking behind as he vocalized his feelings with a warm, sweet a capella with a noticeable tang of seductive amour and just a hint of bitter jealousy; This was Pim’s subtly, classy way of saying out-loud: “That boy is MINE, you got nothing on me you basic bitch!!”. Just as Alan made it to just inches away from water, the lobster tripped on a pebble and got tangled up in the shawl and tried to wriggle his way out. Pim took notice, stopped what he was doing and immediately swam to the scene to finish the job.

Just then Mipnessa realized something was missing. “Oh dear, my cloak!” Charlie blushed upon seeing Mipnessa’s curvy frame accentuated by her sleeveless dress, but quickly snapped out of it. “D-don’t worry, it’s probably back where we left off.” Charlie stumbled back to where he and Mipnessa where viewing the sunset, what he discovered was more than just the cloak itself: it was none other than the mystery critter who rescued him, half-submerged in water while clad in a seashell bra, freeing what looked like a lobster that somehow got trapped inside before taking back what was rightfully theirs. Charlie stood there and froze in shock, asking himself if he was just seeing things or he was trapped in some sort of dream, as he rubbed his eyes in disbelief, the mystery critter already vanished. A tinge of guilt filled Charlie’s heart, as he wished he could have apologized for giving her cloak away, but his thoughts broke as Mipnessa was calling for him to return. Charlie ran back and tried to explain what happened but all that came out was nervous gibberish that Mipnessa initially assumed was Spammish, until he blurted: “Damn lobster made off with the cloak!!” while shaking his fist. Mipnessa giggled: “Duke Eustace was right, you are a washed-up mess of a boy!” Charlie once again froze, embarrassed, until she nudged him a with a smile and reassurance: “At least you’re not some stuck-up old prune.”

~ Damien (and the rest of the search party) spent two days looking for Pim with a nagging conscience, he swore to Neptune if he found his littlest sibling, he’d work hard on being a better brother overall. Ironically, he found a patch of sea flowers to rest upon for the night, just as he was about to lie down he saw a short, cloaked figure picking the flowers, presumably for herbal use. “Pimberly, is that you?!” All he got in response was the laughter belonging to an elderly-sounding sea critter. “Oh deary, I’m afraid I’m not the lost Princess, I’m just an old botanist making medicine.” Damien’s heart sank, his pink skin turning grey at the reveal. “But, I have seen Princess Pimberly ‘round these corners.” Damien’s eyes widened with relief, begging: “Please, tell me where!” The old wisenheimer gave a concerning hint: “I’ve seen the Princess swimming in-and-out of this grotto hauling a satchel full of the most WORTHLESS crap!” Damien pressed for more answers: “So, where is this grotto?”

🐚

Chapter 7 Coming August 9th

[compressedrage]

Orange had always felt he was missing something. Well, he'd never thought about it exactly that way. What could he possibly be missing; he had wonderful friends, a safe home, and a Creator who appreciated his talents.

Whenever he felt lonely, or lay awake at night because of the gaping hole in his chest, he filled it with his friends. Spend a day with them, mess around and get in trouble, laugh until his head was light.

He'd push all that uncertainty into drawing, letting Alan's awe and praise wash over him and warm him to his toes.

He made new friends; Purple, King, Q-bert– cursors, even Bob. Even if Bob had disappeared after a little bit and no one knew where he went. That was a bit strange.

But he filled his life with love and happiness anyway, ignoring how sometimes he felt a deep despair, or had nightmares of things that never happened and as they faded thought he heard someone's voice calling him–

Everything changed the day the strange super-powered stick broke into the PC and saved their lives. Orange stared at the stranger, who had looked at him exactly once before averting his eyes. Something curled up in his chest; whispering, singing in recognition. The stranger dove back into the Wifi portal and Orange had had no choice but to follow him. It was like something was pulling him– two ends of magnets drawing closer to each other. Looking in a mirror and only half recognizing the reflection.

Orange doesn't get a chance to notice anything with the Dark Lord; he is too filled with adrenaline and fear to notice the fire alight in his veins, the spark that ignites when he gets too close to this terrifying figure with a blade of blood. More like magnets that are repelling each other, constantly pushing away while the other ends are trying to connect. He blacks out; and he is gone. When he gets back to the PC and collapses from a strange amount of exhaustion, Orange notes with confusion that he feels cold.

Orange only gets a brief look at the grey stick who seems to be in charge of the facility, but it's enough to pique his interest. He looks like The Chosen One, only washed out. Sharper edges. It's when Orange is brought back to his cell and he knows something happened between the grey stick and Chosen and Chosen is tied up and why is he on the screen–

He and the grey stick lock eyes for a split second before the cage shuts down around him and they can't see each other anymore but something has clicked in place. Something is whispering in Orange's mind "Oh it's you" like he knows this stick but he's never seen him before, why is he here? He left alone again, a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach as something tries to fit in a space where it doesn't belong– but it does belong, it's been missing for so long– but he doesn't want it he wants to go home!

[king-crawler]

The Disney villain book i ordered 3 weeks ago finally came and the sleeve was oily and chafed but at least I get the fabled single paragraph of King Candy insight

this is truly a game changer

And ralf

[TEXT DESCRIPTION BELOW]

Page 166: Disney Villains: Delightfully Evil.

KING CANDY - WRECK-IT RALPH.

RELEASE DATE: November 2, 2012.

DIRECTOR: Rich Moore.

VOICE TALENT: Alan Tudyk.

ANIMATOR: Zach Parrish.

"Everyone should have known with a pass code like UP, UP, DOWN, DOWN, LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT, B, A, START that this sugary-sweet king was not on the up-and-up. Who in the gaming world doesn't know that cheat code?! King Candy is the ruler of Sugar Rush, a video game made of everything sweet to eat, or as a wise Wreck- It Ralph sees it, a "candy-coated heart of darkness.' " But Sugar Rush was not always such a dark place; it was once a happy kingdom where Princess Vanellope von Schweetz ruled until an evil racer from a game called Turbo Time messed with her code and took her game for his own. The biggest shock? King Candy and that villainous racer known as Turbo are one and the same. Alan Tudyk, the voice of King Candy, said he had imagined King Candy to be a much bigger character, size-wise, and found it really funny that he was actually such a small man."

“Portrait of King Candy. Artist: Clay Loftis. Medium: Digital."

“Final Frames of Turbo from Wreck-It Ralph (2012)”

"Concept art of Turbo. Artist: Jim Kim. Medium: digital."

Page 184: Disney Villains: Delightfully Evil.

WRECK-IT RALPH - Wreck-It Ralph.

RELEASE DATE: November 2, 2012.

DIRECTOR: Rich Moore.

VOICE TALENT: John C. Reilly

ANIMATOR: Nik Ranieri

“Wreck-It Ralph is a "bad guy" who has been forced to spend every day for the last thirty years trying to destroy the apartment building that took his home away and to thwart Fix-It Felix from fixing everything Ralph wrecks. After "wrecking" the thirtieth anniversary celebration of his game, Ralph decides to go on a quest to earn a medal and prove to everyone, including himself, that he can be a good guy and do good things. In an interview with the Los Angeles Times, director Rich Moore said that the idea for Wreck-It Ralph came when he was asked by Walt Disney Animation Studios to revamp an idea they had been working on for a while: a movie that takes place in a video game. "Video game characters do the same job every day," said Moore. "I don't know how you could tell a story about that, and then it kind of hits me. ... What if the main character did not like his job? If you had a character who is actually wondering: Is this all there is to life?" "

Concept Art of Vanellope and Ralph. Artist: Bill Schwab. Medium: digital.

Page 185: Disney Villains: Delightfully Evil.

Story sketches of Ralph. Artist: Jim Kim. Medium: Graphite

Final character pose of Ralph.

Final frame of ralph with the Bad-Anon support group from Wreck-It Ralph, 2012.

“Bad-Anon-One Game at a Time

"I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be than me."

-The Bad Guy Affirmation

Evervone needs a little help from their friends, even if their friends are a group of "bad guys." Bad-Anon is a place where the who's who of gaming bad guys can meet and talk about their feelings and what it is like to always be the one everyone loves to beat. Here are some of the familiar faces from the video games of the 1980s and 1990s.”

Bowser--King Koopa from Super Mario Bros.

Clyde--Ghost from Pac-Man.

Dr. Robotnik- -as himself from Sonic the Hedgehog.

Kano--as himself from Mortal Kombat.

M. Bison--as himself from Street Fighter.

Neff-as himself from Altered Beast.

Zangief-Red Cyclone from the Street Fighter series.

[TEXT DESCRIPTION END]

[festivalsofmargot]

Sour Times

{Bully!Sebastian Sallow x Bullied!GN!Hufflepuff!}

Introduction: Slight deviation from the official HL story. Rather than everyone being intrigued at your unique arrival to Hogwarts, it’s a badge of dishonor to develop your magic so late. Hufflepuffs have a pathetic reputation, and you’ve been sorted into their house. The only reason Sebastian puts up with you is because he needs your ancient magic... and because he wants you all to himself. But he’d never tell, not when the whole school would start picking on and laughing at him like they did you. Yet, when he sees the way you look at Garreth Weasley, he wonders if everyone else’s approval means anything at all.

Word Count: ~ 6,350

Warnings: Kissing, Angst, Bullying

Author’s Note: I finally finished! 🥳 Us Hufflepuffs always get dunked on and I wanted to play around with that. I watched A Silent Voice and Normal People and couldn’t stop thinking about bully-to-lover scenarios. I’ve proofread so many times but I know I’m missing something, gonna do that thing where I get sneaky and edit here and there. Long one today so kick back, grab a snack, do hot people shit, enjoy 😘

Songs (if interested):

Sour Times - Portishead

Intro/Spectrum - HAELOS

September - Instrumental - Sparky Deathcap (oh... cara mia, how i love him)

Heather - Conan Gray

chance with you - mehro

Awaken - Dario Marianelli, Jack Liebeck, Benjamin Wallfisch

“We know that from time to time, there arise among human beings, people who seem to exude love as naturally as the sun gives out heat.”

- Alan W. Watts

-

As you meandered down the halls to your next class, holding your books with one hand and the other resting in your pocket, someone had grabbed your arm, tugging you behind a corner, causing you to drop your belongings. Whoever it was slammed your back into the wall, then propped up a hand next to your head to trap you in place.

You looked up and met the eyes of your abductor. This position wasn’t anything new to you, though it was new to be here with Sebastian Sallow. 

Someone was always trying to mess with you or ruin your day. Being a late bloomer with magic and getting sorted into Hufflepuff hadn’t done you any favors. Other than that, there wasn’t anything wrong with you per se, it was just your social standing at Hogwarts. Even some Hufflepuffs wanted nothing to do with you, believing you made their house even more embarrassing to be in. Yet, that didn’t stop any of the student body from threatening you to do favors for them. 

“Heard that you can wield ancient magic. Is it true?”

Your furrowed your brows, wondering how word could spread that quickly. But you suppose the magic you used on the troll in Hogsmeade hadn’t been very discreet. Too bad they gave all the credit to Natsai Onai, you might have made some friends with your troll takedown story.

Shifting your gaze down, you nodded your head.

“Prove it.” He held out a folded piece of parchment, the all too familiar blue glow emanating from it.

You took it from his hands and unfolded it to see rune symbols you’d encountered countless times. “Where did you get this?”

“Doesn’t matter, do you recognize those rune symbols?”

You nodded your head looking over the pages. “I see these whenever I need to unlock a door with ancient magic.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched and you finally met his heavy stare. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “Exactly. And you’re going to come with me to open one I found.”

You folded the parchment back up and held it out to him. “Okay.”

He snatched it from your hands. “Don’t toy with me. If you don’t help me with this, I can make your life truly miserable here. I’m good friends with Ominis Gaunt, and he’s not afraid to use his family connections to -”

“I said okay.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you, not knowing what you were playing at.

“Write me when you have a time and place.” You told him, exhausted.

He eyed you a moment longer, then stepped aside for you to leave. You picked up your books from the ground and kicked the dirt at your feet as you left, taking your time getting to your next class.

“So you’re going to help me? Just like that?” He called after you when he saw it was still just the two of you in the hall.

“Got nothing better to do.” You replied as you kept on your way.

-

Sebastian was the first person to ask for something and come along with you to get it done. Most people would just send you off, but there he was, exploring the cave and fighting giant spiders by your side.

That little outing turned out to be the first of many. Over time, Sebastian explained his sister’s curse and everything he had done to try to find a cure. He kept it to himself, but he was happy to find someone he could go through this journey with, someone who wasn’t trying to make him abandon hope, even if it was the Hogwarts outcast.

You made the mistake of assuming this meant you were friends in public. When you tried to approach him at Hogwarts, he looked at you as if you had grown horns. He caught sight of a few students whispering to each other and glancing your way. In a panic, he knocked the books from your hands, scattering them to the floor. 

“Looks like the Hufflepuff had a little accident.” He jested loud enough for everyone around to hear. He walked away to meet up with some other Slytherin students who were in hysterics at what he had just done. He glanced back your way and it took everything in him to keep the amused look on his face. You were picking your books up off the floor and Garreth Weasley had come to help you. Sebastian noticed he had said something to cheer you up and it brought a smile to your face. 

And then a thought surfaced in his head. I think I'd rather be the one who made you smile.

-

Sebastian’s public displays of discourtesy hadn’t let up. He felt awful, but he couldn’t stand the scrutiny he would get if he was seen with you. Just because he could see all these wonderful qualities in you, didn’t mean everyone else could. The Slytherins especially would give him a tough time. He would get defensive, spewing every excuse he could think of. “Don’t be daft. I only needed to see the Hufflepuff about charms class, nothing more.” 

The guilt ate away at him. So when the two of you came across the scriptorium door that could only be opened by casting the cruciatus curse, he felt this could be his penance. But you refused to cast it on him.

He fisted the fabric of your shirt, jerking you towards him. “Dammit, why not?!” He demanded, incredulous. Dread arose in him, because he knew if he casted it on you he would be causing true agony. Everything he had done to you at Hogwarts was an act of rudeness, he never wanted to do anything that caused you pain in this way.

“Because I wouldn’t mean it.”

His face recoiled as if you had slapped him. He was unable to believe it. After all you’ve put up with, how could you not mean to harm him, how could you not want to? “I have been nothing but cruel to you, this is your chance to be cruel back! I know you hate me! I know you hate everyone!”

“I don’t hate you.” You placed your hands atop his that were gripping your shirt, in hopes it would calm him down. “Cast it on me, Sebastian. Get us out of here.”

Sebastian released your shirt, shoving you back. He turned away from you and rubbed a steadying hand down his face. Using the frustration he felt with you then, he spun to face you and recited, “Crucio!”

You fell to the floor, your screams of suffering echoed through his head.

Sebastian shot up in bed in a cold sweat, breathing coming out uneven. He rubbed his face in his hands and let out a shaky sigh. Ever since the scriptorium, he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, the nightmare had kept replaying in his head.

-

You arrived back at the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room rather late in the night. It was passed curfew but you wanted to get all of Sirona’s lost letters back to her. Seeing the look on her face had made missing out on a few hours of sleep all worth it. 

You startled when you saw a figure move out from the darkness. It was Sebastian, his eyes were red and puffy, dark circles had formed under them.

“Sebast -”

“Why’d you have me do it?” He demanded, his voice cracking. “Why couldn’t you -” He couldn’t stop the tears that fell. His shoulders began to shake as breathy sobs escaped him.

You ran up and pulled him into your arms, gently guiding his head down to your shoulder, and he let himself cry. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay.” You soothed.

He was the one who casted crucio on you, yet here you were comforting him. He felt worthless. You weren’t like anyone he had ever met. You never wanted anything in return, doing things purely out of the kindness of your heart even if it nearly killed you. He couldn’t grasp such a concept, and it overwhelmed him.

He went on his knees before you and took your hand into both of his. “Cast it on me. Please, it’s the only way I can make it all right. I did the wrong thing and I need to make it all right.” He pleaded.

You knelt on the ground with him, meeting his level. You pulled your hand from his and placed it on his cheek. You tried to meet his eyes. “Look at me. I will never do that to you.”

Though you meant for the words to comfort him, they felt like a knife to his chest. He smacked your hand away and scrambled to his feet, running out of sight.

He knew it then as he arrived back at his dorm room, and he let himself feel it entirely, as if he were punishing himself. He was in love with you, and he could never have you, not after everything he had done.

-

In the time that followed, Sebastian had wanted to act as if the scriptorium and his confrontation with you never happened. You kept an eye on him but went along with it. Your discreet meetings and his insults towards you resumed.

When Sebastian asked to meet briefly about information on a relic he had found in Salazar Slytherin’s spellbook, it was a good day for the both of you.

Your face was bright and ecstatic as you looked down at the thunderbrew potion in your hands. “It took me forever to get the ingredients, but I think I got a knack for brewing.” You couldn’t help but gush to Sebastian, trying to stifle your giggles and keep your voice low so no one around the two of you could hear. 

Sebastian didn’t dare let it grow, but a charmed smile tugged at the corner of his lips. If he was going to react to you, he'd try to make it look like you were a nuisance to be around.

“Do you think if - well, I mean - what would you think if -” You began timidly, biting at your lip. Sebastian didn’t look at you, but he listened close, clinging to each word you left him on. “Do you think Garreth would be impressed if I showed him?”

And away went any temptation to smile, he opened the book in his hand to act like he was reading. He discovered that to be the consequence whenever he found himself being pulled towards you, he’d always get slapped with the reality that you were pulled towards Garreth. The other day, when everyone was standing around waiting for Defense Against the Dark Arts class to start, he caught sight of you looking out the window, the sunlight painted your features bewitchingly. He made his way over and saw you were watching Garreth playing Summoner’s Court. “Day dreaming you were actually useful in this class, Hufflepuff?” He had taunted. He’d claim it was to keep up the act but it was really in response to the hurt he felt. The pain only worsened when you glanced his way fleetingly and went right back to watching Garreth with undivided attention.

You noted his silence and felt stupid for even bringing it up to him. “Sorry, I got carried away. I know you don’t care.”

“I think Weasley will soil his breeches no matter what potion you show him.” He said bitterly. “Why do you think he’s so great anyway?”

You didn’t answer and Sebastian looked up to see your gaze following the red headed boy as he walked by, laughing along with a few other students. His stomach twisted uncomfortably and he looked back down to his book, eyes scanning the words but not taking them in.

“He’s the only person who’s been nice to me since day one. But I think that’s just who he is, looks like he’s nice to everyone.” You said the last part more to yourself. A chill went through the air and you began to shiver, seemingly too distracted to care due to where your attention laid.

“Where are your robes?” Sebastian tried to keep his voice monotone.

“Just forgot them is all.” Your eyes followed Garreth until he stopped walking to speak with some of his friends.

“Here. Take mine.” Sebastian exhaled as if he were annoyed, but he wasn’t. He was in earnest at the thought of wrapping you up in his robes.

You turned your attention back to him and shook your head. “No no, people will see. It’s alright.” Gaze returning to Garreth.

Sebastian stopped, robes halfway down his arms, then he shrugged them back on. “Oh... right.” He watched you shift back and forth on your feet, your fingers tapping against the potion’s flask. He could see the ache to run to the Gryffindor clear as day on your face.

“Send me an owl if anything else comes up for the relic.” You said without looking at him, and made your way over to Garreth.

He knew he should turn the other way and act like he was never speaking to you in the first place, as he always did after your furtive meetups. Yet his eyes remained glued to your form. As he watched you talking to Garreth with a beaming smile, laughing along with him as you showed him your thunderbrew potion, insurmountable heartache filled his chest. 

It had finally hit him how he couldn’t care less what people thought, they didn’t even know you. No one knew you like he did, especially not Weasley. If everyone saw you through his eyes, they could easily see you were one of the most capable people at Hogwarts. If all it took to win you over was being kind to you since the beginning, he wanted to kick himself. I’ve been the biggest prat.

How could he have treated you the way he had? Asking for your help all this time, but not wanting to be seen with you in public. He had been nothing short of a coward. His fear of what others thought had led him to lose any chance with you. You were the one that’s helped him through this nightmare of a curse on his sister, you were the one willing to take on immense agony in the scriptorium for him, you were the one he yearned for. He could say the same for none of these people.

The blood drained from Sebastian’s face when he witnessed Garreth slip off his Gryffindor robes and put them on you. It was as if the wind was knocked out of him, his breathing started coming out shallow. He told himself to get out of there. 

The first place he could think of was his dorm. He had tunnel vision the whole way there, a few students had asked if he was feeling alright as he passed. He waved them off, saying something about a potion brew gone wrong, he couldn’t fully remember. When he got to his dorm room, he burst through the door and sat at the edge of his bed. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and tried to steady his breathing. As soon as the sick feeling in his stomach started to dissipate, he laid back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ominis asked, sitting himself on his own bed.

It took Sebastian a moment to be able to speak. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. “Nothing, I’m fine. Just feeling a little sick is all.”

“Is this about the Hufflepuff who helped us in the sciptorium?”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and that was the only answer Ominis needed.

“Nobody cares you know. Sure it’s fun to make fun of a Hufflepuff, that’s nothing new. And one that developed their magic so late? Easy target. But in the end, no one cares. After everything that’s happened, it’s no surprise you feel the way you do.” Ominis never hesitated to call people out, but every now and then he had a way of saying what needed to be said without making someone feel too ashamed.

Sebastian should have known this, he should have had this conversation with himself before it could have gotten this far. He felt like such a child then, laying in his bed, pouting at the predicament he put himself in. But it was hard to pick himself back up, he felt his relationship with you was unsalvageable at this point and it was his fault. He was the nuisance you had to put up with because of that pesky Hufflepuff loyalty of yours, and Garreth was your escape. Garreth could make you happy just by being in your line of sight. He could only dream of having that effect on you at this point.

-

Sebastian had searched for you all day but to no avail. As a last resort, he made his way to the undercroft, he cringed thinking back on the time he first showed it to you. “I’m only showing you this place so we won’t be seen working together. You’re not welcome here if I’m not here.” It wasn’t true, but how would you have ever known otherwise? He had been so cruel to you, it was no wonder you wanted to run into Garreth’s arms. He had practically shoved you his way. 

The sound of sniffling stopped him in his tracks. He pressed forward cautiously and saw you were sitting on the floor against the wall with your head down.

“What’s happened?” Sebastian strode up and knelt before you.

“Oh! Sebastian.” You startled. “I - I’m sorry, I’ll leave. Just allergies. Came down here to escape all that pollen.” You wiped at your face quickly, he could tell your eyes were puffy from crying.

His inner voice was screaming at him that this was his chance, as of that moment he could start taking steps in the right direction with you. He could become the person you wanted, slowly but surely. “Talk to me.” He sat beside you and took your hand in his, he began stroking it with his thumb in hopes it gave you some comfort.

You were taken aback by his actions, but then surmised that was probably how much he pitied you. You felt humiliated at the thought. The Hufflepuff got caught crying like a sad baby bird in the rain, who wouldn’t feel bad? You pulled your hand free from his. “It’s nothing, I just needed a moment. I’m truly sorry I came down here without you, I couldn’t think of any other place. I - I panicked.” You got up and began your escape out. “It won’t happen again.”

Sebastian tripped over himself as he went to chase after you. He ran up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you in place. “Don’t go. Please, talk to me.”

His touch felt wrong to you and you slid free from his embrace. You didn’t feel safe with Sebastian, you didn’t feel safe with anyone at Hogwarts for that matter. But the look on his face had convinced you somewhat he wanted to know what was wrong. “I just had a bad day.” 

He took a step towards you, hoping you would keep going. 

You rolled your eyes at the foolishness you felt. “I worked up the courage to speak to Garreth about how I felt and -” You stopped and shook your head. “This is stupid, I don’t know why I’m telling you this -”

“What did he do?” His voice was direct, body stiffening.

You let out a sigh, hating that you were revisiting the memory. You looked down and began twiddling your thumbs. “I told Garreth how I felt and asked him on a date to The Three Broomsticks. He laughed in my face and said no. Said he’d be friendly with me in public but he wasn’t going to be seen on a date with me. And then he said we could still have some fun in private together.” You recalled the incident, disgusted. “But what else should I have expected? You said it yourself, no one wants to be seen with someone like me.”

Sebastian had never seen your features turn so harsh, and he hadn’t hated himself more than he did in that moment. "I never should have said that to you. Please, you have to know I never meant it.” 

Your eyes didn’t meet his, he could tell you were still angry, not just with him, but with the world. He was surprised you didn’t get to this point sooner. Hufflepuffs really could put up with a lot before they’d had enough. 

Sure, he wanted you to have feelings for him, but more than anything he wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. Seeing your hurt expression then, he wanted to step up more than ever. “No good prick.” Sebastian dug his heels in the ground to storm out of the undercroft. “I’m going to kill him.”

Your eyes went wide. “What? No, it’s alright! Forget I said anything!” You grabbed his wrist trying to hold him back, but he just kept walking, dragging you along with him. “W - What happened to staying out of each other’s lives? You don’t owe me anything, Sebastian! Just drop it!”

Sebastian stopped to face you, he used the grip you had on his wrist and yanked you to him. He steadied you as you crashed into him, taking your face in his other hand and placing his lips atop yours. He wanted to convey everything he felt for you in that kiss, every thank you he should have said, every apology he should have made. You didn’t deserve any of the treatment you got at Hogwarts, especially from him. 

His brows furrowed as he deepened the kiss. He tried to be tender, but the urgency was what took over with how he moved his lips against yours. Your grip fell from his wrist in shock and he used his now free hand to grab your waist and pull you flush to him. He felt you kiss him back, but with hesitancy, and then you pushed him away.

He looked at your stunned expression, “This feels wrong.” You whispered.

Shoving down the sting he felt at your rejection, he strode out of the undercroft, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded.

-

Sebastian spotted Garreth in the middle of the quidditch field, joking around with some friends. “Oi, Weasley!” He called as he strode up to the red head.

Garreth turned away from his group. “Yeah? What is it, Sall-” His words were cutoff when Sebastian punched him square in the jaw. He shot a hand up to where the throbbing began to kick in. “What in Merlin’s na - OOMF!” Sebastian rammed into his gut, tackling him to the ground. It finally kicked in what was happening and Garreth began to shove and punch back. Nearby students gathered around in a circle, hooting and hollering for them to keep going.

“Show that Gryffindor how it’s done, Sallow!”

“Get him good, Weasley!”

“Levioso!” Sebastian and Garreth were pulled apart and lifted into the air at Madam Kogawa’s spell cast. The two boys eyed each other, bruised and bloody, wanting to go back at it as she approached. 

“I see detentions are in order.”

-

When Garreth confronted him, demanding what his deal was, Sebastian had dug into him. Shoving his finger into his chest, telling him he didn’t deserve someone like you.

“Oh please, as if you’re not doing the exact same thing. Everyone sees the ‘secret’ meetings the two of you have. I hardly think you’re the person to fault me.”

Sebastian couldn’t say anything in retaliation, because he was right. He deserved every punch and kick Weasley landed. But things were different now, and he was going to stop at nothing to prove it to you.

-

Sebastian leaned against the kegs just outside the Hufflepuff common room. He stood up straight when the entrance opened and you stepped out. Your gaze landed on him and your face twisted at his state.

“Are you alright?” You ran up to him and gently grabbed his chin to begin examining his bruising. Remembering you two weren’t in private, you yanked your hand back. “Sorry.” You glanced around to make sure no one had seen. It pained him, that after all the time you spent together, this was the habit he enforced in you. He grabbed at your hand and placed it against his cheek.

“I’m fine.” He thought about his next words carefully. “I'm not ashamed to be seen with you.” He began. “I’m so sorry I ever told you I was. I haven’t been there for you. If I could go back, I’d do it all differently. I really would.”

You avoided his gaze and looked down, pulling your hand away. His touch still felt wrong, and thinking about his kiss in the undercroft made you just as uneasy. Everything was so backwards, your mind couldn’t keep up. Not long ago, Garreth was the one being kind to you while Sebastian was itching to get as far away from you as possible. And now, Garreth had you repulsed and Sebastian had an avid interest to be by your side. You were in a constant state of confusion and had a strange desire for things to go back to how they were.

“Sebastian...” Your defenses went up as he moved closer to you, wanting to show you he was listening. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t believe you. All year you’ve dreaded being around me and now I’m supposed to believe your feelings changed just like that?”

Sebastian nodded his head, seeing what you were saying. He shouldn’t have expected you to be okay with all this just because he said so. “I understand. I’ve been awful to you. But I can make it all up to you, you’ll see. I can be what you want.”

You tried to search his eyes for some sort of reason for this shift in him, still not really taking in his words. “I think I need some space.” You were sick of boys playing with your feelings like this. There was only so much you could take. Pretty impressive trait of Hufflepuffs, anyone else would have felt worn thin ages ago.

Sebastian swallowed thickly and nodded his head. He forced a polite smile and left at the nearest floo.

He needs his space too. You thought. That way he’ll get over these feelings he supposedly has for you. You didn’t believe him for a second. You’ve seen other students swooning over each other. It definitely wasn’t what was happening between you and Sebastian Sallow. The only experiences you’ve had with him were secret meetings and him getting humiliated if someone associated the two of you together. He expected all that to just go away with one secret kiss? It wasn’t going to happen.

Maybe he went after someone else and they rejected him, and he was so desperate for affection he came to me. You concluded.

-

The days that followed, Sebastian kept his distance from you without really keeping his distance. Every morning, he got up early to get a flower from the fields surrounding Hogwarts, each one different than the day before. Whenever you got up from your desk or left your books unattended, he would cast the disillusionment spell on himself and place the flower in your book for you to stumble across later.

He didn’t need to see your reaction to it, but every now and then if you were in the same area, he’d be on the lookout for it. Sebastian watched from afar as you began looking through your book on a bench in the Transfiguration Courtyard. But his blood started to boil when he saw Garreth make his way over and sit down next to you. 

You looked up from your book, a questioning look on your face. 

Garreth was visibly nervous and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you the other day. My mother raised me better than that.” 

You hummed as you looked across his features, noticing he was bruised up like Sebastian was. “What happened to you?”

Garreth scratched the back of his head. “Got some sense knocked into me by your friend, Sallow.”

“He’s not my friend.” You said plainly, trying to bring your attention back to your book. A part of you was annoyed Sebastian had actually followed through with going after Garreth, and another part was a little pleased the both of them landed strikes on the other.

He looked to your face then. “I really do like you, you know.” He confessed, and you returned his gaze. He was looking at you like he was sorry this wasn’t what he had said to you in the first place. “But I felt the pressure of everyone, and I told myself I should be embarrassed to be around you. But I’m not. Everyone else can sod off, I can see everything you’re doing even if they refuse to. You’re nothing short of incredible. I truly am sorry for what I said.”

You gave him a small nod. “Apology accepted.”

He smiled and let out a sigh of relief, then held out his hand. “Friends?”

You took it and shook. “Friends.”

He held your hand in his when you tried to pull away. “Don’t suppose that date to Three Broomsticks is still on the table?”

You scoffed but went silent when you saw he was serious. You shook your head and pulled your hand from his grasp.

“Right.” He looked down dejectedly. “Guess I deserved that, didn’t I?” He chuckled awkwardly, getting up and clearing his throat. “I’ll see you around then.” His voice was strained.

Sebastian watched as Garreth left you and made his way over to him. The red head gave him a cordial slap on the shoulder as he walked passed. “Looks like we both blew it, Sallow.” 

-

You hated to admit it, but Sebastian was making some headway with you. It had been at least a few weeks since you told him you needed space, and he had given it to you. You thought it would be the easiest thing in the world for him to do, but he looked like he was struggling. Every time you caught each other’s eye, he looked like he was holding his breath, hoping that would be the day you’d approach him. You thought it’d wear off after a bit, and the distance between the two of you would have him come to his senses. But he seemed undeterred, just as dedicated as the day before if not more so.

You especially hated to admit that every time you found a flower in your books, the flutter in your chest would grow. Each time you needed to talk yourself down, because any day now Sebastian would give up and go back to only wanting to see you about his progress on getting a cure for Anne. 

But then you’d think about how he kissed you. There was so much need in it. In the moment it felt off. But the more your revisited the memory, thinking back on how his lips moved against yours, you got this feeling of being genuinely wanted, perfectly safe. And that sense came from Sebastian Sallow of all people?

You watched him as he took notes in charms class. He was pretty good looking, wasn’t he? You came to notice these passed few weeks now that he was being kind to you. 

He looked up from his notes and glanced your way. You held his gaze when he did, giving him a soft smile. His eyes grew wide and he became fidgety in his seat. He smiled back and his ears burned red. It was the most he’d gotten from you and he didn’t know how to handle it. 

You looked back down to your notes and he looked back down at his, trying to contain his giddiness. He felt like he made a huge leap in progress and he couldn’t wait to keep going. It was just a smile, but it was the only sign he needed that he was headed in the right direction with you. He wondered if he should keep going with the flowers or step it up a bit. He wanted to respect your wishes and keep his distance, but he also wanted to do more for you.

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice you approach when class was dismissed. “Sebastian?”

He stiffened, panic flooding through him. He was mentally preparing to chase after you from afar, he didn’t think he’d have the right words to say face to face yet. But he willed himself to speak anyway. “Yes?”

“Walk with me to herbology?” You eyed him, like you were testing him.

Sebastian knew what you were doing, this would be the first time he’d be seen with you in public willingly and not act like he was being forced to speak with you. Bring it on. “Of course.” Sebastian grabbed your books and smiled at your surprised expression. “Come on then.”

You joined his side and as you walked with him, you noticed he wasn’t rushing. He was taking his time getting to your next class. You had to admit, you expected him to want to speed up the process to get it over with and minimize the amount of people who saw the two of you together. But instead, he let himself look smitten as he stood by your side.

The whispers and glances started up as the two of you walked along. He looked to you and noticed you didn’t seem quite as at ease as he was. He gave you a playful nudge with his shoulder and you couldn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. He was making butterflies dance in your stomach and a funny ache for him grew. You peeked back at him and the way he was smiling at you made you want to tug at his tie and have him kiss you senseless again. Calm down, don’t let him win you over yet. You lectured yourself.

When the two of you arrived in herbology, he made sure to grab a potting station next to yours. Professor Garlick called everyone up to grab some seeds for the day’s class. As you were about to go up with everyone else, he wrapped an arm around your waist to stop you. “I’ll get it.” He said in a low tone near your ear. His hand lingered and dragged across your waist until he was too far to touch you anymore. He shot you a smirk over his shoulder as he walked away.

That funny ache you felt turned into something simmering hot within you. When he came back with the mallowsweet seeds, he took your hand in his and placed them on your palm. His fingers dragged across your hand and you peered at him through your lashes. 

“Be careful.” He said, releasing you and turning to his potting station. “You look like you want to kiss me.”

A burning sensation hit your cheeks and you turned to your own station. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Silly me then.” 

The two of you focused, or at least tried to, on your pots before you. You planted the seeds and padded down the soil, then awaited further instruction from Professor Garlick. But you tuned her words out as you eyed Sebastian up and down. Thankfully, you were already experienced with mallowsweet, so you weren’t too concerned about falling behind.

Sebastian watched you through the corner of his eye, he could feel your eyes on him and it drove him mad. As soon as class was over, he was going to try to reenact the first time he demanded your help. Except this time when he pulled you into a hidden corner, there wouldn’t be as much talking. His jaw clenched at the anticipation.

You usually enjoyed herbology, but that day’s class was dragging on a little too long. Your mind billowed with thoughts of Sebastian’s lips and ideas of how you were going to get them back on yours.

“Class dismissed.” Professor Garlick sang. You and Sebastian immediately looked to one another, knowing exactly what you wanted to do, but unsure how you were going to get there.

“I think I -” You began, not really knowing where you were going to take your words. “I think I left something in the undercroft.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along. 

Once the two of you arrived in the undercroft, he closed the gate behind you and pressed you up against the nearest wall, slamming his mouth against yours. The two of you wanted to devour each other whole. A muffled moan escaped you and you cupped his face in your hands. His hands gripped your hips greedily as he tried to savor every sound he could get from you.

Unable to keep in one place long with so much of you available to him, he began kissing along your jaw, down your neck, below your ear. He could feel you quiver at his kisses and he wanted to do everything he could to keep you squirming.

You whimpered, and he knew he found the spot below your ear to be your weakness. “I... I think we left our books in herbology.” You breathed pleasantly as he kept at it.

Sebastian hummed as he continued his magic. “Such a shame.” He knew he still had a ways to go with you. No matter how long it would take him, he was going to make things right. But if he could tempt you into a kiss here and there along the way, he hoped you wouldn’t mind.

[runawaydr3amerao3]

Fanbinding by @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis 📖🫶

Continuing my run as the luckiest little fangirl in the west... 🥺💖

@jinkieswouldyoulookatthis did something truly beautiful for me recently, and I've just received the results: my very own handmade, hand bound copy of my West series.

You can see her incredibly cool (possibly haunted) process here:

Below, you can see my very uncool emotional breakdown of/about it (and some more photos). 🥲

Now look at all of the beautiful details!

These end papers are so eye-grabbing and perfectly selected, since the series takes place through a revolving door of motels, just as in early-seasons canon.

The title verso has all of the information from AO3, the original LJ publishing dates, @idlingintheimpalapodcast's podfic version details, and the fanbinding specs. Then there's the contents page! JUST LIKE A REAL BOOK, YOU GUYS!

Also, did you happen to spot @tsukiyo-7's credit line on the verso page?! BECAUSE I DID! And I had no idea what that was about until I opened to the page with their custom artwork!

How freaking cool is that?! 😭 Thank you, you fantastically talented person! 💖 Everyone go check out their other beautiful art (plenty of stunning Wincest. 🫶) on their Tumblr!

In case you're wondering, the Kushtaka, which Jinkies also created a whole, super cool entry from John's hunting journal for, is the creature that necessitates Sam and Dean ending up in the shower together in part two of the series. 🤭

Then, not only that, but this curious little sticker tumbled out when I opened those pages:

Because Jinkies doesn't do anything by halves, it turns out that she even found this traditional formline artwork of the Kushtaka by Nick Alan Foote, an indigenous artist of Native American Tlingit heritage, where the legend comes from. That is such a special connection to have that I would never have expected. I'm way beyond touched. 🥹 Please check out the artist's other wonderful work here on Insta.

The final dagger in the coffin of my tendency to blubber at the drop of a hat, let alone in the face of heartfelt gestures, was this page:

@sam-is-my-safe-word and @talltalesandbedtimestories have been personal champions and cheerleaders of mine since the very beginning of my return to writing in this fandom, and they haven't stopped since. The fact that they still have effusively kind things to say about me and my work just makes me want to die (in a happy way).

The comments on my fics are, like, 90% of what keeps me writing. Sharing and engaging and knowing that my stories are making people happy is what it's all about for me, so having those comments from @fictionallemons, Faraway22 (not sure if they're on here under a different username?), Jinkies, and @chiquititasnewsong preserved as a reminder of that... Honestly, you should be glad you can't hear the noises I'm making right now.

The thing is, I knew Jinkies was doing this. She asked permission before she started, she offered to make me a copy as well, and I've been elated and flattered from the moment she did. But now, having it in my hands, I'm moved even further than I thought I would be (and believe me, I know myself–I knew I'd be a mess).

I live a very small life, y'all. The joys I experience tend to be on the same scale. So while this might not be grand or extravagant to many people, this gift, of something I put into the world through a medium I've only really known digitally, intangibly, now being something I can hold in my hands as proof that I've touched the lives of people so far and wide, is a kind of profound that these words don't do justice.

It makes my life feel pretty darn big after all.

Thank you, @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis. Thank you to those who contributed. Thank you to everyone who's read and commented and been a part of West in some way over the last 14 years. The story's still being told in this way. I'm so grateful to remain a part of it.

[honestlyvan]

I do kind of wonder if the implicit assumption that Door is mad at Alan for involving Saga should be re-examined a little bit.

The game is very careful to not frame any of Saga's relationships as paternalistic. Like, repeatedly, with emphasis, especially among the relationships with people who are close to her and have reasons to act protective over her. Having Door primarily be motivated by a sense of righteousness over someone messing with his protectorate goes against theme with her, and would single him out as the only male character whose help Saga does need.

Furthermore, we know Freya didn't seem to think that highly of Door, never telling Saga anything about him and being firm in not wanting to discuss the topic. Her considering Door a potential danger to Saga just like her powers and choosing to hide the truth to protect her wouldn't make sense if she, too, could use her seer powers to confirm that Door did have Saga's best interest at heart, and with Door existing outside of time, I don't think there's adequate signalling that this would be something he would have had a change of heart about.

Furthermore, while Door is very likeable and definitely not a villain or even an antagonist... he is very trickster-like, and seems very cavalier with how he chooses to interfere and when. From his interactions with the Old Gods, spending fourty years on kill-on-sight terms with them only to happily fanboy over having them on his show and collaborate with them to mess with Alan, to the way he almost deigned to let Alan create a hint for Saga about how to use her powers rather than letting Saga and Tim just work it out amongst themselves, he's playing the long game in every situation and seems to enjoy making the story take twists and turns because of his involvement.

So Door is in a weird superposition of meddlesome/hands-off largely because I almost got a sense that with Saga, he's keeping his distance on purpose. Keeping himself concealed and out of the conversation, despite much of her story being discovering her origins and discovering her own supernatural influence. Outside of letting Alan create a single manuscript page about him, he doesn't even hint at his own existence while Saga is in the Dark Place, theoretically right there for him to reach out to.

And if Door does ultimately think that surely any daughter of his can handle herself, there is one another innocent that has been involved in this all by Wake I could see him getting worked up over instead.

[pruneunfair]

Characters I hate the most in remarried empress

5:Heinrey

A lot of people dislike him now for being a cruel bastard to the point of torturing foreign nobles just so he can favor his wife. While that is messed up I'll take that over his constant "UwU my queen~" persona that he displays 90% of the time because at least the former is the remnants of his inital personality. It goes from kind of funny to straight up cringey, I do not see what Navier likes so much about his puppy guise, he's so low because to be fair, he was introduced as a scumbag (kind of), he just spends so much time simping that it's basically tossed to the side

4:Lebetti

I know a lot of fans say Lebetti is young and can learn better, she's 17 sure but it took her entire family being executed just so she'd be inclined to care about Ian. She's basically a mini me of Lotteshu and when's she not doing that, she's another blind Navier worshipper who is used for as a stand in for the reader, I don't know how fans didn't realize their stand in is a slave owner but I digress. The only reason she's at number 4 is that while I do find messed up she gets to raise Rashtas child and likely feed a biased view of her to Ian, if she really wanted to be evil, she would've let Ian become a slave for his mother's crimes so I guess there's that.

3:Kaufman

Jesus christ this man is a walking, talking manifestation of second ML syndrome. He's essentially a plot device for no other purpose other than propping up Navier as so beautiful that multiple royal guys want her and so shit can go down , And of course the obvious slipping love potions in others for no other reason then "the plot calls for it", he doesn't even face the consequences. He's fucking creepy as well since he's STILL in love with Navier even after she's married and pregnant GET OVER IT MAN! In the end he just gets with Charlotte (Kosairs ex fiancé) so writting wise: his whole "nice guy" problems can be solved

2:Alan

I really just have a personal vendetta against the whole Rimwell family. The moment I lost all hope in remarried empress is when I was expected to sympathize with a rapist. The narrative wants readers to believe Alan was wronged even though he was the one to participate in keeping Ian away from Rashta until she got rich, even though it was HIM who decided to abandon Rashta after she wanted to run away with him. Yeah he's a good father so what? Wow! A dad actually raising his kid how amazing, it's almost like that's called the bare minimum. The moment he tried to say that Ian deserved to be treated like a prince because he was Rashtas son is when the comments finally saw him for what he was, he makes up for all this by getting executed in the end

1:Laura

Your probably wondering out of all these scumbags, why is a random side character on top? Well, the characters below at some point had personality traits that made then complex characters in the past or they did something to make up a little for it making them a tiny bit more tolerable. Laura however has never once shown any signs of any other personality other than "Your majesty! Your so wonderful and the best! That slave needs to know its place around you!" At least all Naviers other ladies in waiting have some sort of gimmick to them or in rare cases they have other stories going on with just them. Laura's gimmick is that she is willing to hit a slave for Navier even if said slave made a genuine mistake and isn't used to palace intrigue. Her face pisses me off everytime I look at it and everytime she speaks it's never anything besides love for the leads and hatred for anyone against Navier. she needs to get off her glazing and go back to bullying Cinderella with her evil stepsister design she's got.

Anyway let me know if there's any other manhwa/comic to rant about because I'm sure everyone's probably tired of me bitching about remarried empress

[gumnut-logic]

Lego Volcano (Part 7 and The End)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Lego Volcano - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

At this point, it should be remembered that this fic, whcih is now complete at over 11,000 words, originated in a post that devolved into bathing in Lego and how much whumping that would involve :D

This is why fault belongs to @idontknowreallywhy, @sofasurf @womble1 and @sailing-on-a-puddle and other wonderful Thunderfam peeps. it would not exist without them.

@onereyofstarlight has also kindly kept me on the straight and narrow and all improvements belong to her :D

So thank you to all of the above and to all who have encouraged this little fic, that didn't stay little, along the way ::hugs you all::

this bit is very much M/M because Virgil is feeling so much better :D If that isn't your jam, this isn't your bread. There is also buckets of fluff :D

I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

“Do you think he likes me?”

Virgil frowned down at the man lying in his arms. They had thrown some pillows and a blanket onto a fold up daybed and were whiling away a few hours as the sun was setting across the sea.

The Island was quiet. Grandma and Dad were still on Aotearoa, Gordon and Alan were torturing Scott in the infirmary, and, as always, John was watching over them from far above.

His star would become visible once the sky was dark enough.

“Who?”

“Mr Tracy.”

He had the urge to ask which Mr Tracy, but where Alex was concerned, there was only one Mr Tracy. “Scott likes you fine. Always did.”

Alex fidgeted in his arms. “I feel like a klutz around him.” He looked up at Virgil - something that only happened when they were lying down and Virgil was quite happy about that. “I just know how important he is to you and, well, I don’t want him to feel I’m intruding.”

“You’re not intruding.”

Alex looked away. “I’ve seen you on rescues. All of you are special, but there has always been something extra between you and the Commander. There are rumours.”

Virgil frowned. “About what?”

“That you’re telepathic, that you can read each other’s minds and move as one.”

“You’ve been talking to Gordon.” The Fish had been ribbing them about that for years.

“No…well, yes, but not about that. It’s in the fandom. It’s common knowledge.”

“You’re in the fandom?”

Now Alex was definitely looking away. “Well, yeah, been a fan forever, and there are like-minded people out there.” He looked back up at Virgil and grinned. “You are very nice to watch.”

The arm Virgil had draped around his boyfriend, quite conveniently reached his ribs, which were apparently very ticklish.

The two of them tussled and giggled a moment, Alex finding a few ticklish spots in return. But it was broken up when Virgil’s laugh turned to a cough. Alex caught him and pulled him close.

Virgil cleared his throat and smiled. “So you’re a card carrying fan?”

“You knew that.”

“I did.” He kissed Alex’s messy blond hair. “But then, I’m a fan of you, so we’re even.”

Alex snorted, but sobered. “Seriously, it’s important that I’m not…messing things up with your brother…with any of your brothers.”

Virgil sighed. “Alex, you’re fine. Scott approves, and even if he didn’t, you’re my boyfriend, not his.”

“I know. It’s just I don’t want to mess with the magic.”

Oh, god. “You’re not messing up anything. All my brothers are happy for us. It’s fine.” He pulled Alex in close, kissing his hair again. “Especially for me.”

But even as he said it, he knew his man and this was probably one of those bones his brain would chew on if it wasn’t taken away. “So you like math?”

“I’ve always liked maths, I’m an engineer.”

“Well, yes, of course, but that wasn’t engineering math.”

Alex shrugged. “It’s just fun stuff. I play with patterns sometimes.”

Virgil stared down at him a moment. “Scott enjoys math.”

A snort. “I noticed. He can run rings around me. He makes some beautiful stuff.”

“He does?”

“Yeah? Didn’t you see that last result - it was like a field of origami flowers.”

Virgil blinked. “Flowers?”

That earned him a frown. “You couldn’t see it?”

“I could see elegant math. Scott writes a good solution.”

“He does, but it is how he does it.”

“Should I be worried?”

“About what?”

Virgil’s lips curled into a smile. “If my brother has caught your eye.”

“Oh, ho, ho, yeah, right. Mr Tracy is straighter than an Australian railway line.” It was Alex’s turn to smile. “Besides, he’s not you.” Alex reached up and caught Virgil’s lips with his own.

Conversation stopped for a while as Alex made it very clear which was his favourite Tracy brother.

The sun finally reached the horizon and lit up the ocean, coating everything in that beautiful gold only Sol could provide. A gentle breeze wafted off the caldera and wrapped around them, clapping palm leaves and pōhutukawa branches alike.

“Thank you for looking after me. It has been a relief having you here.”

“Next time let me know. I don’t want you suffering in silence. People pair up for a reason.” He cleared his throat.

Virgil brushed a strand of hair behind Alex’s ear. “Okay, I’ll make sure to send the Fish earlier next time.”

“So Gordon is your gopher?”

“Uh-huh.” Alex’s skin was a little flushed in the light of the sunset and very distracting.

“Does he know this?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You are feeling better, aren’t you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Alex smiled and his dark eyes glittered in the golden air. “C’mere.”

His lips were soft.

Virgil lost more time.

So very, very distracted.

It was getting dark by the time they bothered to check their surroundings again. The breeze was cooler, and Alex shivered as it drifted over them.

Virgil’s stomach was rumbling - a good thing since eating hadn’t been his favourite activity recently.

Since there was no sign of Gordon or Alan, or anyone else for that matter - probably giving him and Alex space - it looked like Virgil was cook tonight. So as they finally climbed off the bed and began packing up, he mentally recalled what was in the fridge, the freezer, and what could be quickest to prepare.

“Where should I put these?” Alex had the pillows in his hands.

“Chuck them on the sunken lounge. If you feel like a movie we can use them later.”

“Sure.” But Alex hesitated, frowning a moment before, turning to walk inside.

“Alex? You okay?” Virgil had his hands full of blanket and folded day bed, but something wasn’t right.

“Um…I don’t…” Alex was stumbling sideways, pillows falling to the floor.

Everything slowed and Virgil was moving, but not fast enough.

Alex struggled to keep his feet, but one bare foot caught in that damned Lego sculpture and then it was all slow motion deja vu.

Lego scattered everywhere, tinkling on the hardwood floor as Virgil slid in to catch Alex. The Lego volcano exploded in all directions as his body collided with it, arms full of lanky, falling engineer.

Time and speed caught up.

“Alex!”

Shocked dark eyes looked up at Virgil. “I don’t feel very good.” His eyelids fluttered closed. “Dizzy.”

“Alex!”

“Uh…” He screwed up his face. “Dizzy.”

Virgil’s heart climbed into his ears thudding away all sound as he lowered Alex gently to the floor, brushing away stray bricks and cushioning his head with one of the dropped pillows.

Scrabbling to his feet, Virgil dashed across the comms room and grabbed the first aid kit, yanking out the medscanner and flashing yellow light across Alex’s prone body.

The machine beeped, and delivered its prognosis.

Oh, hell.

His shoulders dropped.

Alex groaned and tried to roll over.

“Hey, stay put. You’re sick.”

“Wha-?”

“Thunderbird Five?”

John popped into being in the middle of the room. “Tracy Island, what can I- ? Alex? Virgil, report.”

“Please let Māhia know that Alex won’t be returning for at least another week. He has the flu.” Virgil brushed hair out of Alex’s eyes.

“FAB.”

“What? I have- I can’t, I had all my shots.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“But-“

“Your turn to rest, love.”

“But I have to…goddamnit!”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile through his concern. “You can play math with Scotty in the infirmary.”

Was that a challenged cant to a grumpy eyebrow?

“But I have to-“

“Rest.”

“Viiirgil.” He coughed.

Virgil continued to stroke his hair as both Gordon and Alan came running with a hoverstretcher in tow.

“Not the Lego again?” Alan looked both worried and exasperated at the same time.

As Virgil’s bare foot came down on a very sharp and hard brick while crouching to lift a wriggling Alex onto the hoverstretcher, he only had one solution to that problem. “Yeah, please pack it away this time. I think we’ve had enough Lego this month.” Ouch, he stumbled over another one. “Possibly for decades.”

Alex was muttering something about Erica laughing her ass off and excuses to lengthen his stay on Tracy Island.

Gordon was grinning and agreeing.

Heart still beating just that little too fast, Virgil limped after the hoverstretcher.

New bruises keeping him company.

Damn Lego.

-o-o-o-

FIN

[laughing-moonlight]

Everytime I rewatch the 2004 movie, there's something that I always feel justifies Alan's thoughts and actions when it comes to feeling like he's the black sheep of the family more than anything. Namely: this family portrait/mural.

It spans most of a wall and is, quite frankly, damn good. It's exactly the kind of dramatic, family photo you'd expect in a regular billionaire's home, let alone Jeff Tracy's. But take a closer look. This is a family painting. A FAMILY PAINTING that features a proud Father and his talented Sons:

Scott, Virgil, Jeff, Gordon & John

But where's Alan, you ask? Well, guess what? Once again: HE'S NOT THERE!

I've always found it pretty messed up that Alan isn't on it. There is plenty of room because it doesn't take up the entire wall, so that's not an excuse. But more importantly: this is the Command Centre. Also known as Jeff's Office. Where he goes everyday and sees everyday and spends more time in there than anyone else. So you can't tell me he just forgot to put Alan on it. No, of course it's on purpose. And whether he meant to or not, that's just another thing that's pushing Alan away from the family.

Like, fair enough, he doesn't have a portrait leading to the silos because he's not a Thunderbird yet. But the damn thing is what is hiding the silo portraits!

And everytime Jeff summons Alan to his Office to berate him, Alan has to walk past and look at that thing. The perfect picture of the perfect Father and the perfect Sons. And Alan isn't on it. And you (Jeff) wonder why he's always reckless and selfish and trying to prove himself! You haven't shown him he doesn't need to!

I wouldn't be surprised if he's already tried to explain why he doesn't like it and Jeff and his brothers just twisted it around to him being spiteful or something.

And those two family photos on his desk do not justify Alan not being on that version of the wall, Jeff Tracy! It doesn't matter if they're on your desk right in front of you two tiny pictures do not make up for an entire damn mural! And I'll die on that hill. It's messed up!

*Anyway, thanks for listening to my little rant lmao*

[liaromancewriter]

Shades of Gray

Premise: Only one woman can turn Ethan’s world upside down, and yet another who can ground him.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angst. Words: 1,450

A/N: This is a follow-up to Inconvenient Truths and is set during 2.15. Submission to @julychallenge prompt "emotional"

His heart unwittingly carried him to the fifth floor, and the woman he wanted to see as much as his head cautioned him avoidance was the better solution.

Ethan Ramsey couldn’t remember a time when he’d been this indecisive. Privately, he referred to it as the Louise effect. His emotions had been on a rollercoaster since his father told him his mother had returned and wanted to see him.

Depending on the time of day, his moods swung from surly to downright depressed to pretending indifference. He wouldn’t blame his dad for not taking his calls or Cassie for telling him she wanted a break.

Somehow, without meaning to or realizing it, he’d managed to drag everyone he loved onto the tumultuous ride.

His feet faltered as he neared the hospital room. Through the window, he caught a glimpse of sunny blonde hair. He stood off to the side, close enough to look inside but far enough away so Louise couldn’t see him.

Ethan saw the pain etched on his mother���s face as she gripped her stomach and the compassion in Cassie’s eyes as she adjusted the drug protocol and noted the change on the patient chart.

He wondered what she thought of the situation and his mother. He knew he had Cassie’s support; he always had that, even when he behaved like an ass.

His eyes were cool as they scrutinized the scene. A lifetime of drugs had aged Louise, giving her a hardened look, especially around the eyes.

His eyes, he realized. While the rest of his features resembled Alan, the shape of his eyes and the light blue color came from his mother.

What else had he inherited from her?

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Cassie leave the room or stop beside him until she nudged his elbow.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said cautiously. “It was good of you to admit her.”

“Good has nothing to do with it. She’s a patient. We’re doctors.” He couldn’t help the detached tone accompanying his words. “She’s entitled to three days of detox like everybody else.”

He must have sounded harsh, for Cassie’s eyes widened in surprise.

“And then what?” she asked.

Ethan knew she was frustrated by his evasiveness. Aside from their late-night conversation at Dagger Mountain, they hadn’t discussed this topic. Tip-toed around it? Yes. But sat down and talked like adults? No.

Cassie had tried; his father had, too. But he’d shut them both out, not ready to dissect the complicated mess of emotions and thoughts that crowded his brain.

Ethan straightened his coat, locked his hands behind his back and stared intently into the hospital room. “Since we got back from the resort, I’ve been looking for an addiction clinic to send her to that isn’t a scam.”

Unable to bear it any longer, Ethan looked away from the room in time to catch the resolve on Cassie’s face as she took a deep breath.

“She really wants to spend some time with you, Ethan,” she said softly. “It might do you both some good to just sit and talk a little.”

The latent anger inside him flared without warning. “I'm already doing more for her than she ever did for me. If it's not enough for her, tough.”

And waned just as quickly, replaced by uncertainty and guilt. “I don't know what I’m doing here,” he sighed deeply. “I’ve gotten her the help she needs. The rest should be up to her.”

Ethan wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. He felt his eyes glisten and turned away before Cassie could see the tears spilling past his cheeks. He’d spent too many years crying over what couldn’t be, but it never seemed enough.

“She’s suffering,” Cassie said, reaching for his hand. “It's normal to want to check on her.”

“She deserves to,” Ethan snapped, unable to control the anger that boiled over, ready to burn everyone and everything in its path. “After what she did to me? To my father? She’s spent twenty-five years hurting the people who cared about her most.”

Why did Cassie still not understand what Louise’s abandonment, her betrayal of their family, had done to them?

“That may all be true,” Cassie inclined her head toward the window, “but look at her. She's not faking this.”

Ethan gritted his teeth at the tone in Cassie’s voice. It was the same one she used when dealing with a difficult patient—infinite patience overlaid with sympathy.

He sighed, swallowing down a nasty retort, and walked away from the window. Cassie followed, but then he’d expected her too. Her stubbornness was just one of the qualities that made her a good doctor, even if it could be annoying on a personal level.

“I keep catching myself thinking that she deserves to feel worse than this for what she did to us,” he said, halting, trying to find the right words to explain the conflict brewing inside him. “But I can't let myself think like that. Nobody here deserves worse. Nobody deserves better. That’s not how life works.”

He waited for Cassie to respond, but she remained silent as they walked down the busy hallway. Likely keeping her distance in case he bit her head off again, he thought morosely. He’d done it enough times since Louise’s reappearance that she could probably read the signs.

Just how infinite was her patience? He was sick of his attitude and his damn mood, so he could only imagine how others felt being around him.

They were nearing the elevator bank, out of sight of the nurses’ station, and Ethan couldn’t take the silent treatment anymore. He grabbed her wrist and hauled her into an empty patient room, slamming the door shut with the back of his foot.

Incensed, she pushed his arms away. “If you plan to shout at me again, I don’t have the time. Nor am I in the mood to be your punching bag. I know your automatic reaction is to shut me out when things hit too close to home. But the world isn’t black or white, Ethan. It’s shades of gray. Deal with it!”

Ethan could always tell when she was furious from how her entire body vibrated, hands clenched in tight fists, ready to slug. If violence weren’t anathema to her, she probably would’ve taken a swing at him already.

“I’m not gonna shout at you,” he barked, brows snapping in annoyance.

“You already are, Ethan,” Cassie huffed in exasperation, hands on her hips.

Of course, he was. Only two women in his life could make him lose control like this.

Ethan muttered, “Christ” under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took deep breaths, reining in his temper and frustration.

“I’m sorry,” he said, crossing the floor to take her hands and hold her close. “Louise brings out the worst in me.”

“I know!”

He grinned at the exaggerated eye-roll that accompanied the quip.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever act reasonably when it comes to her, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.” He placed two fingers on her chin and tilted her face up. “Forgive me?”

“Yes, but I need something from you first.”

He quirked one brow in question, curious about the mischievous glint in her green eyes despite the serious tone.

“You owe an apology kiss,” she smiled, running her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders.

Ethan laughed softly, the tension between them easing with the sound. “An apology kiss, huh? I think I can manage that.”

His fingers trailed from her chin to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin. Their eyes locked, and the world around them seemed to fade. It was just the two of them standing there, inches apart.

He leaned in slowly, savoring the moment, his breath mingling with hers. Hers hitched in anticipation.

When his lips finally met hers, it was tender and sincere, an unspoken promise lingering in the warmth of the kiss. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, drawing him closer as she melted into the embrace.

As they parted, Ethan rested his forehead against hers, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“Well? What do you say?” he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

Cassie nodded, her eyes shining with the remnants of her playful challenge and a deeper, more profound emotion.

“It’s a good start,” she whispered back, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

Ethan grinned, feeling lighter than he had all day. He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

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

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@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

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Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[willthewiz]

Will's Project on Alan Turing

Some of Alan Turing quotes may reveal something about Will and season 5.

These stand out to me the most:

"Those who can imagine anything, can create the impossible."

“Sometimes it is the people no one can imagine anything of who do the things no one can imagine.”

It makes you wonder, has Will created the impossible? The upside down? Maybe a character or characters we know? Has he stopped time or messed up a timeline?

We know when Will Byers disappeared on November 6th, 1983 and Eleven opened the gate, the Upside Down became stuck in 1983.

Will and El are definitely connected in some way. Wouldn't it be crazy if Will created El? And that's how she knew who he was in season 1 without knowing him before? Because she knows he's the one who created her? (I know, very crazy) Of course, El could've just seen him in the upside down after she opened the gate, but anything is possible if Will created the impossible. Whatever that may be...

Time can only tell. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day... (I just liked this quote lol)

What do you think?