#need to go through since it's been amassing for like four years now and the boxes are unwieldy

[answrs]

they've got some fuckin corgi-ass lookin yotes out in Oregon apparently

[fanficimagery]

The Lost Girl

You just wanted to travel and forget all about the drama you left behind. You didn't expect to fall in with four boys who would become another family. Maybe more.

[Part One of Three]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm- I'm alive? Surprise! I'm still in a bit of a pickle with where I want part two to go, but I figured if I post this now then I can't back out and delete it. I need your help, but I'll ask at the bottom so I won't spoil this.

Words: 7.9K

Santa Carla is the total opposite of Mystic Falls and you couldn't have loved it here more if you tried. You grew up with pageants and balls and trying to stay at the top of the popularity totem pole, but you secretly loathed every second of it. Not to mention your sister was a beacon for the supernatural, attracting vampires like no one's business, which eventually led to you getting caught in the crossfire and being turned at the ripe age of twenty.

Stefan Salvatore did his best to teach you how to feed and control your blood lust, but his techniques just weren't cutting it for you. So Damon took over, leading Bonnie, Matt, Elena, Jeremy, and Tyler deeming you untrustworthy. You don't know why they disliked your friendship with Damon so much, but their wariness of you only grew when you eventually befriended the Original Vampires that once sought to kill you, your family, and friends.

The last straw was when everyone started fighting over a cure for vampirism. They all thought there was enough of the cure to go around for all those who wanted it, but nope. There was only a single dose, and both Elena and Rebekah wanted it. So when you saw the lines being drawn, you packed a couple of bags and left to see the world.

The only person who knew of your travel plans were, surprisingly, Elijah and Klaus. Elijah was sad to see you go, especially since you were one of the only ones who he could trust, but Klaus was all for you seeing the world and experiencing life as you should have. You were more than content compelling your way through the trip, but the Mikaelson's were having none of that and gave you a card to use since they amassed a ridiculous amount of money over the years.

After deleting all social media, with the exception of a traveling Instagram account that was newly made, you bought a new phone and only gave your new number to Elijah and Klaus. You traveled abroad first, touring the most beautiful cities, museums, and seeing every landmark you could. You kept the Mikaelson brothers in the loop about everything that they sometimes surprised you by showing up for a week before flying back home.

For a year you saw all you could and then headed back to the States. You wanted nothing to do with Mystic Falls, Virginia, so you settled in California. Santa Carla was the most nitty gritty town you'd ever seen, and it was the last place anyone in your family would expect for you to stay in.

It was perfect.

With a new hotel having been built in Santa Carla, you compelled yourself one of the suites indefinitely. You didn't want to purchase a house in case you needed to up and leave, and having a housekeeper stop by weekly was perfect.

You stood out amongst the locals of Santa Carla, it seeming like everyone walking around either had some crazy hairstyle, hair color, or numerous piercings. And then there was you, skin untouched and the only piercings you had being those in your ears.

So after a week of settling in and compelling those who needed compelling, you finally decided to hit the infamous boardwalk.

The boardwalk, for some reason, feels like you've stepped into the past. Could be because of the music playing or the way everyone dressed, but you know you didn't actually slip into the past given the cell phones in people's hands or air pods in people's ears. The bells, whistles, and flashing lights make you giddy, taking you back to a time when you were excited as a child to be attending the annual fair Mystic Falls put on, but the attendees were the total opposites of those you'd find in Mystic Falls.

The employees in charge of the various game booths attempt to entice you to play, but you rather spend your cash at the crafts section of the boardwalk. There was no use in paying for a rigged game that made sure you lost ninety percent of the time when you could buy handmade crafts and help support someone's living.

After buying some handmade jewelry and a couple of shirts, you decide to eat. There's a Chinese place that smells marvelous as you stroll by, so you turn back around and enter the establishment. And then almost as soon as you're seated, a waitress comes by to take your drink order. You quickly skim the menu as she gets your drink, then order a bowl of Hot and Sour soup, a plate of Chicken LoMein, two egg rolls, and a pan of fried dumplings. The waitress seems impressed, and you merely laugh it off before sipping your Coke.

As you wait for your food, you grab a napkin and start ripping it apart piece by piece as you stare out the window you'd chosen to sit by. People pass by, uncaring for what's going on in the small restaurant, but then there are two boys that you just so happen to clash gazes with. Both fit with the eighties aesthetic- one with wildly tamed blonde hair that only a true rocker could pull off and the other with a dirty blonde, curly mullet. Both hairstyles are wildly out of place, even if they're trying to make a comeback now, but fortunately for the boys they can pull it off.

"Hey, chika, you want some company?" The blonde with the teased hair shouts so you can hear him through the window.

Holding back a wince at his loud volume, you shake your head. "Maybe next time!"

"Aw. Come on, babe. You're breaking my heart!" He pouts, even as his friend smirks behind his fist.

You shrug, grinning, but are saved from having to interact any further when the waitress appears with your food. As the food is set in front of you and you thank her, you glance at the boys one last time while giving them a wink before digging in.

You casually devour your food bit by bit, asking for a refill on your Coke only once. Then when you've had your fill, you ask for your leftovers to be boxed up. And as you walk outside, you hand said leftovers to a couple of teens digging through a trash can.

Walking around, you soak in the night time atmosphere. The sweat from the humans and the oil used to deep fry all sorts of food is rather distracting from the ocean scented air wafting in, but none of it is as distracting as the copper smell you pick up on one particular gust of wind. There doesn't seem to be any panic-induced mayhem on the boardwalk, so you figure someone must have cut themselves and is getting bandaged up.

A diner further down the boardwalk advertises milkshakes on its main window, and suddenly a strawberry milkshake sounds superb. So after making a quick trip inside to secure yourself a milkshake, you're back on the boardwalk once again.

No one has bothered you the entire time, but the moment you perch yourself on the railing to sip and people watch, one confident individual saunters towards you. It hardly takes you two seconds to realize this individual is in his teens obviously thinking you're a teen as well. But given you were twenty when you were turned and have spent a few years undead, you're so not interested in whatever this boy has to offer.

Before the individual can open his mouth, you hold a hand up to stall him and shake your head. "Stop right there. Not interested."

The boy's expression drops into shock before quickly morphing back into his too confident persona. "Aw, come on, girl. You look like you're in need of some fun."

"I am, but you need to be at least this tall-" you say while holding your free hand at least a foot above his head, "-for me to ride that ride."

There's a snort to your right, but you ignore it, even ignoring the presence that jumps onto the railing next to you before sliding their arm around your shoulder. "Sorry, kid. Maybe the next girl you hit on won't have a height requirement."

There's even more laughter and the boy rethinks his approach before scoffing and leaving. You grin, wrapping your lips around the straw of your milkshake and turning your head to your new companions. "Blondies one and two," you muse. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Just thought we'd play knight in shining armor," blondie one says. "I'm Paul. My friend is Marko."

"YN.."

Paul practically vibrates with energy. "So do I meet your height requirements?"

You laugh, uncaring when he steals your milkshake to sip from. "You may meet the height requirement, but I don't go for blondes. Sorry."

"Aw, chika, you wound me!" He feigns his hurt, holding a hand to his heart as you take your milkshake back. Marko can only laugh, shoving at his friend's shoulder when he leans a little too far his way. Once he corrects himself, he doesn't remove himself from your side. "So what's a pretty girl like you doing here all alone? Waiting for friends? Family?"

"Ugh, no." Your nose wrinkles. "Too much family drama for my tastes so I've been traveling the world for a little over a year now. Santa Carla seems like the least likely of places my family would think to look for me, so I'm staying as long as I can."

Marko seems interested as he leans around Paul to ask, "What's been your favorite place so far?"

"Tromsø, Norway," you reply.

"Why?"

"Because ever since I was a little girl, I've been obsessed with the aurora borealis. It's the best place to view it."

"Cool."

"Where are you staying?" Paul asks. "Maybe we can have a party one of these nights."

"Doubtful. I'm staying in a hotel suite and I have a feeling partying with you would lead to my place being trashed. No thanks."

Marko smirks. "Smart girl."

You grin and sip your milkshake as Marko comes around to lean against the railing on your other side. They ask some more about the places you've been, and you don't know what comes over you that you feel comfortable enough with these two to regale them with your tales of travel. In return, Marko and Paul tell you about themselves and their two other brothers. They tell you that they're all not originally from Santa Carla, but ended up finding each other throughout the years and made their own family unit in town.

Then just as you hop down to throw away your empty cup, the crowd seems to part as two individuals approach. Another blondie with a mullet and a brunette whose hair is almost as wild as Paul's. You can't tear your eyes from the brunette who is all too comfortable going shirtless with nothing but a weathered leather jacket hanging off his frame and some snug fitting jeans.

"Oh, I see how it is." Paul muses in your ear. "You like 'em dark haired."

You throw your elbow back, tearing your gaze away from the brunette in front of you to smirk over your shoulder at Paul when he grunts. Marko snickers at his brother's misfortune. "YN, this is David and Dwayne."

Both the new blondie and brunette nod at you, and you flash them back a faint smile. You're quick to toss your trash, then head back to your new friends. "Well, it was nice meeting you boys, but I should get going."

"Aw, come on, girlie. Hang for a bit more," Paul pleads, but you shake your head.

"Maybe next time."

"Will there actually be a next time or are you gently letting us down?" Marko wonders.

Your eyes roll. "We've only just met and you're already clingy?" You tut at him. Marko gapes and you wink at him. "Yes, there will be a next time. At least there will be if we cross paths again."

"We'll take that," Paul says. He slings an arm around Marko and smiles. "See you around, girlie."

The next afternoon, you decide to have some fun in the sun. You spend the early afternoon in your room, ordering room service and having a nice steak and fry lunch. While eating, you post a few pictures you snapped of the boardwalk nightlife, ferris wheel, and carousel all lit up. Then afterwards, you dress in a bikini before pulling on a pair of jeans shorts and a tank top. Only after slipping your feet into a pair of flip-flops do you pack a backpack with a beach towel, your phone, sunglasses, and some cash before taking your leave.

You're surprised to find that the beach isn't packed, so you pick a spot on the beach to lay out your towel and backpack. You spend a bit of time searching for sand dollars and shells, then go swimming in the ocean. Afterwards, you lay out on your towel with your sunglasses shielding your eyes. You doze on and off, and then just as the sun is setting you start to get up.

Shaking off your beach towel, you get rid of all the sand before folding it and shoving it into your backpack with your clothes. Then heading over to the beach showers, you rinse off all the sand and ocean water, and let yourself dry in the lingering sun rays before slipping your shorts back on.

In the middle of choosing what to eat, you hear catcalls and wolf whistles. You try to ignore it, hoping they're directed to someone else, but nope. They're directed at you. However, when you turn to glare and give the boys a piece of your mind, you find Paul and Marko beaming at you with their other brothers Dwayne and David just watching on.

Your glare vanishes and you roll your eyes as you slowly untense. "Do you guys have nothing better to do than check out girls on the boardwalk?"

"Nope." Paul hops off his bike and practically skips towards you. "What are you doing?"

"Heading to dinner. I spent most of the day on the beach so I'm starving."

"Ohhhh. What are we having?"

"I'm having pizza and wings. If you want to tag along, you buy your own."

"Done." He turns around and shouts, "Come on, boys. We're getting pizza!"

You shake your head and greet Marko when he approaches, smiling at the other two who have yet to speak up. Paul takes the lead and you walk side by side with Marko. The pizza place isn't far and you all head inside. You place your order first- a medium Hawaiian and a side order of boneless honey bbq wings. You accept your number tag after paying and then wait for your new friends to order as well. Then once they've got their own number tag, Paul leads the way to a large booth meant for a large group at the back.

Paul and Marko slide into opposite sides of the booth, and it only takes you a second to scoot in next to Marko before placing your bag at your feet. Paul gasps and you chuckle. "What? Marko seems less likely to continuously elbow me as I try to eat."

"That's cold, girl."

You wink at Paul and are surprised when Dwayne scoots in on your other side. David settles in next to Paul and his ice blue eyes practically pierce you. "So what's a girl like you doing out here all alone?"

"You mean Paul didn't tell you?"

"I'm asking you."

The coolness of his voice makes you arch an eyebrow at him, but Paul's snickering keeps you at ease. So in the end, you shrug. "My siblings and I weren't seeing eye to eye for a while. I had some money put away to take a trip out of the States, but my new found family wasn't having any of that and gave me access to their money. I've traveled for a year before coming back, staying in a place furthest from my hometown."

"Parents?"

"Dead." Paul's smile falters and you kick him under the table. "None of that. It's been a while. It's fine."

"How did it happen?" Marko asks.

You face him briefly before saying, "My sister had a fight with her boyfriend and asked our parents to pick her up from a party. They did, but on the way back home my dad somehow lost control of the car and drove off a bridge. A bystander found them, but by the time he dove under water, my dad made the bystander get my sister out first. My parents ended up drowning."

"Do you have plans on returning?"

"Eventually." Just then a waitress stops by to deliver your drinks. You grin as Paul immediately starts flirting, sipping your Coke as the waitress blushes and stutters before leaving. "These poor Santa Carla girls have no idea how to handle you, do they?"

"Not a clue."

As Marko and Paul laugh, you shake your head rather fondly. You don't know what it is about this group that makes you feel at ease with them, but you're glad to have some people to talk to while you're in town. Another group enters the establishment, a little unruly as they find themselves a table. One of them catches your gaze and you grimace when you notice him leering at you.

Feeling a little exposed, you reach for your bag under the table and pull free your tank top. You quickly pull it on and then free your phone while waiting for your food, not paying much attention to Dwayne who's shifting in his seat next to you. You do, however, notice when something is dropped on your shoulders and realize Dwayne has given up his jacket.

You freeze and quickly glance up at Dwayne, taking a moment to stare at all the bronze skin now on display, but his glare is directed at the table of troublemakers who are snickering among each other. "Uhh.."

"Just wear it."

"Okay."

Those are the first three words Dwayne has spoken to you and you absolutely do not shiver at the sound of his voice. Paul, Marko, and even David sense something else and you flip them off after slipping your arms through the sleeves of Dwayne's jacket. Then just as you go to sip on your drink, your phone starts ringing with a video call.

Big Bad Wolf, complete with a wolf emoji, is stamped across the top of your phone above a picture of a smirking Klaus. "Uhh, do you guys mind if I accept this?"

"Go ahead, girlie."

You accept the call, keeping it so that only you're on screen. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to talk to me, love?" You roll your eyes, grinning, and Klaus chuckles. "What are you doing?"

"Uhh, I'm out to dinner with some new friends," you say.

"You've already made friends?"

"Mhm. Look." You turn so Marko is in frame. "This is Marko." Marko grins and nods. Then you flip the camera and catch Paul. "This is Paul and David is next to him, but David is glaring at me. I'm pretty sure he'd kill me if I put him on camera."

Klaus chuckles. "Fair enough."

"And then this.." You glance at Dwayne, but he merely arches an eyebrow at you. You grin and turn the camera on him. "This is Dwayne."

A split second later and then, "No."

"W-What?" You splutter. Paul and Marko choke on a laugh, and finally both David and Dwayne smirk. "What do you mean no?"

"Elijah!"

Your eyes widen. "Why are you calling 'lijah? Don't call 'lijah!"

Elijah appears next to Klaus and you groan. "Go on, sweetheart. Put your friend on."

"Marko? Or Paul?"

"Don't play dumb."

You grumble and put Dwayne on camera. "Absolutely not," Elijah says.

"You guys are embarrassing," you grumble. "He's literally only said three words to me."

"Mhm. And whose jacket are you wearing?" Klaus asks.

You pout. "I hate you." Just then you catch sight of two waitresses coming with your pizza. "Oh, look. Food's here! I'll talk to you gentlemen later."

"YN-"

"I'm fine, Klaus. I'm okay and I'm happy. I promise."

"Well okay then. Call me back when you get to your room."

"Will do, big bad wolf. Talk to you later."

You end the call just as a pizza is being placed in front of Paul and Marko, then yours is placed in front of you, and then another is placed in front of David and Dwayne. You're handed your boneless wings, and you happily wiggle in your seat. You're starving!

After you take your first bite of the sweet Hawaiian pizza, David asks, "So was that your boyfriend?"

"Ew. No." Your nose wrinkles and you quickly swallow your bite of food. "Klaus and Elijah are like my older brothers. They're the two who are funding my whole trip."

"They sound fancy with those posh accents of theirs," Paul muses.

"They are fancy," you admit. "They host balls and everything. I seriously hated wearing those dresses with a poofy skirt. They're so uncomfortable to sit in."

"No way!" Paul laughs.

"Mhm. Look."

As you eat some more of your food one-handed, you open the photos app on your phone and seek out the album from all the parties you attended. You hand your phone over to Paul, and Marko actually leans across the table to get a glimpse of the life you left behind.

As the two of them swipe picture after picture, laughing, you eat in peace. You even crack a grin when Dwayne picks off your tray of boneless wings, chuckling when he tells you it's payment for wearing his jacket. You end up having to tell the boys who is who every time they ask and deny any romantic relationship accusations when a picture of you dancing with Damon pops up. You admit he was a good friend up until his feelings for your sister clouded his judgment and you'd had enough of their drama.

Dinner proceeds uninterrupted, but it's when you get up to leave that the table of troublemakers from earlier causes an issue. With Dwayne's jacket returned to him, you follow the group as David leads the way out. You've just passed the table of leering individuals when a loud smack! resonates in the room and a brief stinging pain blossoms on your butt. You freeze, your new friends freeze, and then you're whirling around to glare at the culprit. You slowly look at the smug individual as his friends cackle like morons.

Anger flaring, your hand whips out and grasps the guy by the back of the neck. You slam his head down onto the table, causing him to grunt and his friends to fall quiet. You lean down so your mouth is next to his ear and grit out, "Touch me again and I'll rip your fucking throat out." You put pressure on his neck, causing the table to groan under the weight of the pressure. "With my teeth," you hiss. Pushing off the too quiet guy and facing your new friends once more, you shrug. "What?"

David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul just stare at you before chuckling.

"You're scary, girl. I like it."

With a roll of your eyes, you step forward and push past Paul. "Come on. Show me what Santa Carla has to offer."

Over the course of a week, you hang out with who the locals have dubbed the Lost Boys. Paul and Marko treat you like a long lost best friend, Dwayne has taken to hovering over your shoulder, and David is pretty indifferent to your presence although he will stand up for you if need be. Your senses tell you there's something off about the boys, but you don't realize what it is until you scent the coppery fragrance of blood coming off of them one night they're late to meet you.

If they're vampires, they must be vampires who don't know who the Mikaelsons are because none of them recognized the family in your pictures. But you don't call them out, nor do you hint about yourself, at least not until you're walking on the beach one night and your senses are assaulted with the scent of a lot of blood and screams off in the distance.

Glancing around, you notice the boardwalk is empty and shutting down. The beach where you're at is empty as well, and as you speed towards the sound of terror, your suspicions are proven correct about the Lost Boys.

They're unlike any vampires you've seen, more brutal in their feeding than even the Big Bad Hybrid himself. Their vampire visages showcase a true monster, but for some reason it doesn't bother you as it probably should. They're sinking their fangs into necks, shoulders, torsos, and even skulls, laughing all the while their victims scream in horror.

In their feeding frenzy, they don't notice you standing just on the outskirts of the firelight. Limbs are ripped from bodies before being tossed into the fire, blood spraying carelessly across the sand. But the moment the frenzy dies down, you can't help but make an entrance.

Slowly clapping, you smirk as all four vampires freeze and turn towards you as you walk into the light. David snarls, his monstrous face still on display as Paul and Marko quickly change their features. Their expressions are a bit crestfallen as you continue to find amusement in this situation, so you walk towards Dwayne who has gone stoic. "I get the bloodlust, but do you guys have to be such messy eaters? Gross." You wrinkle your nose as you kick an arm into the raging fire.

"W-What?" Paul splutters.

Looking back at Dwayne, you reach over and run a finger through the blood staining his chest. Then popping that same finger into your mouth, you wrap your tongue around your finger and savor the fresh blood now coating your tongue. You feel the veins beneath your eyes slither to the surface and your fangs elongate in your mouth. Then meeting Dwayne's gaze, you flash him a fangy grin. "I prefer to compel, eat, and release, but you do you I guess."

"Holy shit. You- you're a vampire?!"

Meeting Marko's stunned expression, you wink.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," David says.

"Sure." You meet his now ice-blue gaze. "But only after you clean up after yourselves. This," you say while gesturing to their dismembered victims, "is sloppy."

You watch as David oversees the cleanup of their little section of the beach, burning the bodies and kicking sand over the spilled blood. Afterwards, they all take a dip in the ocean to cleanse themselves of their meal.

On the way to their bikes which are parked just a bit down the beach, Paul asks, "So how old are you?"

"Which age are you referring to? The age I was when I was turned or how many years I've been a vampire?"

"Both."

"I was turned at twenty," you say, "and I've been a vampire for less than five years."

"No shit? How were you introduced to this world?"

"That.. is a very long story. Why don't we get someplace where I can actually tell it?"

As their bikes get nearer, you hiss at Paul when he pushes you in Dwayne's direction. Almost as if it was expected of you to ride with Dwayne, he settles on the seat of his bike before offering you a hand so you can situate yourself behind him.

Hanging on loosely, you enjoy the ride and take amusement in the sudden turns and jumps they take to try and startle you. But instead of being shaken, you merely laugh and pinch Dwayne's side when you're jostled too much.

The drive to the cliffs that you know to be Hudson's Bluff, overlooking the disgruntled sea, is rather short. You have a moment to glance down a rickety, wooden staircase before the group is driving down them one by one. You're jostled even more as the bike is driven over various rocks and through a gaping hole in the fence that's meant to keep trespassers out. They drive into a cave where the bikes are then parked, and you climb off to follow Paul down a very humid path.

Swiping cobwebs, vines, and roots out of the way, you're then led into a cavernous room. There are shafts of moonlight lighting up the space, and then Paul and Marko fire up barrels all around the space. The place is trashed, but you quickly realize it's not a normal cave. There's a sofa, chairs, and a broken water fountain. There's what appears to be a long counter- or was it a desk?- and a tattered portrait hanging behind it.

"What is this place?" You ask as you glance around in wonder. They obviously made it their own- seashells and broken CDs hanging from every place available, as well as hundreds of melted candles over every surface. You even spot a mattress, pillows, and blankets hidden behind some type of gauzy material.

"This was the hottest resort back in the day," David drawls. "Too bad they built it on a fault line though. When the big one hit San Francisco in 1906, this place took a header down into the ground when it split open. It's been our home ever since."

"Nice." You plop down on a couch, sighing as you stare at each boy. "So what do you wanna know?"

"Everything." David takes a seat on a wheelchair, staring right at you. "Start from the beginning."

"Fair enough. I was born and raised in Mystic Falls, Virginia to parents who ran their own business. I didn't want for anything and ended up being a letdown when I wasn't into pageants as my mother hoped I would be."

"Did your parents even die by drowning?" Marko asks.

"Yes. That was true," you tell him. "After their death, my aunt Jenna took in me, Elena, and Jeremy. Both my siblings grieved differently, but when the new school year started, my sister did a complete turnaround when Stefan Salvatore entered the picture."

"Why do I get the feeling this Salvatore dude is a major player in your story?" Paul asks.

"Because he is. Unbeknownst to any of us, Stefan Salvatore was vampire number one. He was drawn to Mystic Falls all because of my sister Elena."

"Why your sister?" Dwayne asks, startling you. He rarely spoke up, but when he did, you couldn't help but be drawn to him.

"Do you guys know what a doppelganger is?" At their nods, you explain. "Elena was the latest human doppelganger. The previous doppelganger, Katherine, toyed with two brothers back in 1864. The Salvatore brothers, to be exact."

"Shit." Paul giggles. "Talk about a vampire novella."

"Anyway, Katherine toyed with Damon's feelings and made him fall in love with her. When she tried the same with Stefan, he resisted so she compelled him to love her. And then when it came to light that there were many vampires in town, every vampire was rounded up, vervained, and anyone who associated with them were killed. As it just so happens, the Salvatore brothers' father found out his sons were romantically linked with Katherine, so he shot them. Unfortunately for him, Katherine had been feeding the boys her blood, so when they were killed, they didn't stay dead for long.

"Fast forward to the present time and both Salvatores are now salivating for the newest doppelganger. Only this time, Stefan has fallen in love with Elena without any compulsion, and so has Damon. Katherine's apparently been keeping tabs on the brothers and she's not happy that Elena has the love of the brothers."

David makes a motion with his hand to hurry you along. "How did you turn?"

"Katherine has made it her mission to make Elena's life a living hell, so what better way than to kill one of her best friends and older sister?"

Paul gapes. "You're joking."

"Nope. The crazy bitch fed me her blood before snapping my neck, then smothered Caroline who happened to have Damon's blood in her system. When we woke up in transition and fed on human blood to complete the transition, half of our friends turned on us. We had to rely on Damon and Stefan to teach us to control our bloodlust, but things were never the same. And to top it all off, learning to become a vampire was the least of our worries."

"What's more important than knowing you've died and have to kill people to survive?"

"How about that one of the Original vampires- who is over a thousand years old, by the way- needs the blood of a human doppelganger to break the curse on him, so he decides it's his turn to make your family's life hell as well?"

"Oh shit. What curse?" Paul asks.

You slowly smirk. "Niklaus Mikaelson is not just one of the original vampires, but he's the one and only original hybrid. He's half vampire, half wolf, and one of the most lethal individuals that still walks this earth."

The boys fall silent, but then Marko speaks up.

"Hold on. The dude funding your trip around the world is the same person who made your life a living hell?"

"Yep," you muse. "We were at each other's throats for the longest time, then his sister killed my sister which turned her into a vampire as well, and there was just a shit load more drama with doppelgangers, witches, werewolves, and hybrids." You shrug. "Elijah was never truly terrible, so I spoke more with him first, but then Klaus really took the brother role to heart. The Mikaelsons have kind of adopted me, and my siblings and friends didn't take too kindly to that. So, to avoid all the drama, I left. And now here I am."

For the rest of the late night and early morning, you answer all questions you can. Paul and Marko are interested to see the differences between you and them, but David and Dwayne are more interested in learning about the Original vampires and their unique differences. Their biggest hangup, however, is that the sun has no effect on you like it does them. Sure you both will catch on fire, but it doesn't pull you to sleep the day away like it does them. You're a bit jealous that they can fly, but you're so much faster than any of them.

The moment David mentions the impending sunrise is your cue to go, so you bid farewell to your friends before winking at Paul and disappearing before they can even blink.

For the next couple of days, you keep yourself busy by running some errands for Klaus. You meet with vampires and piss off a couple of werewolf packs, but all in all the work gets done. You hadn't been able to keep in touch with the Lost Boys, so Paul and Marko whoop in cheer when they spot you.

"Well if it isn't Miss Mystic Falls," Paul muses. "Where the hell have you been, chika?"

"Sorry. Sorry!" You lean against the railing in between the group, grimacing. "I had a few things to do and since you're all allergic to modern technology, I couldn't text or call."

"Anything we need to know about?" David wonders.

Normally you'd say no, but Santa Carla is his territory and you don't want any bad blood with him. "Not really. I had a few things to pick up for Klaus and a few messages to deliver to some werewolf packs up North."

David frowns. "There are packs nearby?"

"The closest one is fifty miles out, but they're all pretty scared of Klaus and what he can do so they stay in line. If there's anything to worry about, it's any lone wolves who decide to take shelter in the woods around Hudson's Bluff and don't give a flying fuck about the Original Hybrid."

"Pft. We can take on a rogue werewolf if need be," Paul says.

"You say that now, but you won't be saying much when you get bitten by one. Remember, werewolf bites are lethal to us vampires." Paul's smugness dims. "Now who's good to eat around here? I didn't have time to grab some blood bags from the hospital."

"Stay away from the Surf Nazis," Dwayne says.

"Surf Nazis? What the hell kind of name is that?" Your nose wrinkles in distaste.

"A name that they've had since the eighties," Marko says. "It just stuck because they're still a bunch of racist and bigoted pricks."

"Fair enough. So, if I can't eat them, who can I eat?"

All four boys readily scan the crowd, excited at the prospect of picking your dinner.

"Do you have a preference? Male or female?" David asks.

"No junkies and I'm good with either male or female."

After mere seconds, David already has his pick. "On your three. Group of guys keep glancing this way. I'm pretty sure they're not checking Marko out."

You subtly glance at them and figure any one of them is good enough. "Alright. Since you guys are intimidating as fuck, you're gonna say goodbye and go do your own thing. Whoever approaches me first is dinner."

"Boo. You're no fun." Paul's the first hop off his bike, giving you a side hug. "We'll be watching from the roof."

"Of course you will." You roll your eyes, laughing.

Marko winks at you as he follows after Paul, David nods at you, but it's Dwayne who makes you arch an eyebrow at him as he glares at the group of guys before leaving. You chuckle at the oddness of it all before shaking it off and then pulling out your phone to kill some time.

It doesn't take long at all for someone to approach you and you easily fall into the role of the lone human girl way too easily. You chat for a bit and find out he's in fact in college, on break for a week and just looking for some fun. You tell him you're taking a gap year, just passing through Santa Carla and was hoping for some fun as well. His lecherous grin lets him know you have him on the hook.

"Wanna take a ride on the ferris wheel?" He asks.

"I'll do you one better. I say we visit an alley away from prying eyes without giving any ride operators an eye full."

"Oh, fuck yes."

Smirking in triumph, you hop off the railing and grab up the guy's hand. You briefly meet his friends' gaze before winking at them, leading their friend off to what they think is going to be a very good time. For you it will be, but for him? Not so much.

Once at an alley that doesn't have much traffic passing by either end, you lure the guy inside. In the middle of the alley, you turn so your back is against the wall and let him grab you by the hips. But as you cradle his face before he kisses you, you meet his gaze and say, "Don't scream. Don't fight. This will be painless."

The guy goes quiet, and you let your face change before his very eyes. He tenses, but he stays stock still without uttering a peep. Then reaching around to grasp the hair at the back of his head, you angle his head so you can sink your fangs into his neck. You drink and drink, satiating your thirst while listening for the first skip of his heart. When you've had enough, you clean his neck wound of any blood and then prick your tongue with a fang to smear your own blood on the bite wound. It heals after a minute, and you pull back to meet his gaze once more.

"When you get back to your friends, you're gonna be smug but also a little bit let down. Admit I'm the greatest kisser you've ever had, but before we could get to any of the good stuff, we were interrupted by a homeless couple."

"We were interrupted by a homeless couple," he parrots back.

"Good boy. Now to make things more believable..." You slowly smirk before pulling him close, capturing his lips with your own.

The guy is shaken out of his compulsion and his arms wrap low around your waist to pull you even closer to him. You kiss him roughly to make sure his lips appear swollen and even muss his hair up. But the moment you reach under his shirt and rake your nails across his back, causing him to groan, you hear someone drop down beside you.

One second, you're enjoying a kiss and the next your victim is shoved away from you. Dwayne practically puts himself between you and your meal as he snarls, "Get. Lost."

The other individuals drop down into the alley, and you meet three amused expressions. Paul and Marko are snickering quietly whereas David is smirking at his dark-haired brother.

"You alright there, Dwayne?"

Dwayne turns, expression unimpressed at David's question. Instead of answering him, he turns his stare on you. "What?" You feign innocence. "I had to sell it. His friends needed to believe I brought him in here for anything other than feeding."

"Whatever. Next time, just kill the guy."

As Dwayne stalks off, you smile at his back. The moment he disappears, you ask, "Was that- was that jealousy?"

"Yep." Paul skips to you, draping an arm around your shoulders. "Dwayne's always been possessive, but it's been a long time since he took real interest in someone."

"This is going to be fun," Marko muses.

You roll your eyes and sigh but can't help but agree.

Over the course of another few days, it's now very obvious that Dwayne's hovering wasn't just because you were a female. He most definitely knows you can take care of yourself, yet he's still there, but now he's openly snarling when someone looks at you a little too long. To placate him, you only ride with him and pull him into the V of your thighs when you're sitting on the railing. He starts tensing up the moment you all people watch for your next meal and other guys stare back, but the tension drops from his shoulders when you hop onto the railing, pull him into the V of your thighs, and hug him from behind.

Nothing intimate happens between you and Dwayne, but it becomes an unspoken rule among the small coven that you're off limits.

Everything seems to be going well until you meet the boys on the boardwalk one night and David looks livid.

Your smile instantly vanishes. "What's wrong?"

"The woods smell like fuckin' dog," he seethes.

Immediately your gaze snaps towards the sky and your heart sinks. "It's a full moon."

"We know. We're gonna try and kill this wolf for stepping into our territory and pissin' all over the place."

"What?" Your voice is lethally quiet as you meet David's gaze. "You have to be joking. One bite- hell, even one nip!- is a death sentence."

"We'll be fine. We just thought we'd let you know."

As they turn to mount their bikes, you swear. "Goddammit. Wait for me. You're not doing this alone."

You climb onto the back of Dwayne's bike, wrapping your arms around his waist as you glare at the others for their idiotic choices. They're quite solemn as they drive to the woods, and you keep your eyes peeled for the werewolf in question. As they come to a stop, you climb off and glance around the eerily quiet woods.

"So do you have any tips on tracking a werewolf?" Paul muses.

You gulp. "It's a full moon and this wolf most likely claimed these woods as theirs. It'll be hunting us."

The boys chuckle and start walking, combing the woods for any sight of the wolf. It isn't long until a twig snaps- a twig that neither you nor the boys have stepped on. You all freeze.

"Showtime?" Marko wonders.

You sigh. "Be prepared to run. Werewolves can match a vampire's speed on the nights of a full moon."

"We'll be alright."

Almost as soon as the words leave Marko's mouth, the werewolf rushes in. It takes down Paul by his knees, standing on his back and snarling. Before he can snap his jaws, you rush over and kick the werewolf to send it flying.

"What the fuck was that?!" Paul incredulously asks as he hurriedly climbs back to his feet.

"A werewolf," you deadpan. "Keep your guard up. It'll come back."

For a few minutes, it seems like the werewolf is toying with all of you. It keeps knocking down the boys, snarling before disappearing. You've kicked it off your friends three times by now, but the second you hear a howl in the distance, you and the boys freeze.

"There's a second one?" You ask. David shrugs and you bite your tongue to keep from giving him a verbal lashing. "It was stupid to do this on the night of a full moon. We need to leave right now, and I'll do my best to sniff out the werewolves tomorrow so we can handle them when they're in their human forms."

"How much harder can two werewolves be?"

"Pretty fuckin' hard, David. I know you're a badass and all, but we need to do this another night."

Before David can answer, Dwayne shouts. You whirl around, eyes widening at seeing a werewolf pinning him to the ground with its sharp teeth inches from his face. Without thinking, you fly at the wolf, tackling it off of him. You and the wolf scramble for the upper hand and you hiss when there's a pain in your shoulder.

Eventually, you manage to pin the wolf to the ground by its neck and shove your hand into its chest cavity to yank out its heart. With the wolf dead, you toss the heart aside. "Now will you listen to me? This was such a stupid fucking idea." The boys remain quiet, staring at her.

Actually, they're staring at your shoulder.

"What?"

Dwayne steps forward, carefully reaching for your arm and pulling you a step towards him. You frown, but then hiss when he moves the neckline of your shirt off your shoulder. "You're bit."

Your heart falls into your stomach and you quickly glance at the shoulder that you now realize is burning. Your eyes fill with tears. "O-Oh."

"Oh? Oh?!" Dwayne nearly shouts. "Werewolf bites are lethal, remember? How could you be so goddamn stupid?!"

Your bottom lip trembles. "I'm well aware of that, Dwayne. I was the one who told you to hunt the werewolf another night, remember?" You sigh and pull your hand free from his grasp. You take a moment to collect your thoughts before admitting, "There's a cure. Only a select few know and the cure is hard to get your hands on unless you're on friendly terms with those who have access to it. It's not my secret to divulge, so I was compelled to not say anything unless it was an emergency."

"What is it?" Dwayne asks. "We'll get it."

"You can't. But I can," you admit. "Let's just get to the cave. I have a phone call to make."

So, for part two, do we want the Mystic Falls gang to follow Klaus to Santa Carla or do we want the Santa Carla gang to visit Mystic Falls?

[insomniac4000]

A pot of Gold Part 1- ChrisMD

I'm posting the first couple of chapters here but please see my Wattpad for all the chapters when they're posted

Mae Murray was a Youtuber who grew up with another Youtuber Ethan Payne. They were close as kids going to the same Primary school, grew apart a little as teenagers but when they discovered they were both trying to do Youtube they struck up a friendship again. Life had been tumultuous for both,  there was Ethan with his weight and his mental health. It was Mae who went out in the early hours searching for him with Tobi, she sat with him for hours calming him down and got him help. In more recent times it was Mae who needed help, she had been with her boyfriend Jack since they were seventeen as they had met in sixth form college. They got engaged at the beginning of 2022 and soon after found out they were going to have a baby. Ethan was also incredibly happy that his kid would also have a play mate but sadly it wasn’t to be. Tragedy struck when in August of that year Mae went into labour four months early, despite best efforts the baby who they named Aria was not strong enough to survive. To add insult to injury further complications from the birth have made conceiving another child difficult. Mae went into herself and was utterly depressed, when she found messages from other women on Jack’s phone she fell off the deep end and ended up needing psychiatric intervention. She spent the rest of 2022 and a couple of months of early 2023 working on herself and getting herself and her life back together, returning to Youtube in March 2023 and releasing well received content since but she still had struggles but managed them for the most part, she was working hard and started to date again while she was contented she wouldn’t say she was completely happy.

Mae had struck up good relationships with all of the Sidemen as well as other Youtubers, when she first returned to the platform everyone rallied around her and welcomed her into their videos as a sign of support. Jack was also a Youtuber but it was obvious where the majority of people’s loyalties were. She was now awaiting her latest appearance which was on The Fellas Podcast to promote her newest venture, a BB3 documentary on child loss and mental health.

She discussed the show and to a point her own story with grace and decorum but when the topic of conversation moved to her Youtube channel she managed to crack jokes like no serious conversation had just taken place, it was a wonder to watch her suddenly relax and smile. 

“Honestly it was the weirdest shoot of my life, I look to my left and there’s a fucking bollock naked Harry,” Mae says placing a hand on each side of her face as she talked about the latest sideman shoot she was out. Freezy and Chip couldn’t hide their laughter as Mae continued.

“I know many women would die to be in that position but honestly not something I needed to see.”

The interview ended and to her surprise there was a lot of clapping when they had wrapped up, it was more noise then Cal, Chip and the producer could make. She looked around to see she had now amassed an audience, people were really keen to hear what she had to say not in a nosey but in a supportive way and as the fellas podcast was recorded in an office which was shared by a lot of other Youtubers so she had a lot of support in the room.

“I didn’t know I had an entourage,” Mae commented slightly embarrassed by the fan fare.

“We’re just proud of you,” Simon commented as he embraced the small woman.

“I appreciate it, but you’ve all got to stop pandering to me sometime, otherwise my head won’t fit through the door.”

“It’ll almost be as big as George’s,” Chris replied pointing to his housemate next to him who gave a ‘hey!’ Mae giggled and hugged the boys each in turn as she made her way down the line.

“How are you feeling? I think I need a break after hearing it, it was a lot of stuff” Cal asked Mae once everything had calmed down.

“I’m okay, some days are better than others when I’m okay I’m happy to talk,” Mae admitted with a small smile. She then felt an arm sneak around her waist and looked to her right to see Chris.

“Some of the boys and I are going to grab some lunch at Nando’s if you fancy it?” He asked, Theo and Harry looked on, they had a suspicion Chris was harbouring a small crush, he had pretty much told them so but Chris wasn’t the kind of person to jump on someone when they were vulnerable so he pushed it out of the back of his mind. Now Mae had expressed an interest in getting back out there; they were surprised he had yet to make a move however.

“Sounds good, talking makes me really hungry,” Mae replied with a small laugh as she looked at Chris, she had to admit she was really loving his new hair and his beard, it made him look older but in a good way. When the first met she assumed he was younger then he was but he had a boyish charm about his looks but he had now grown into a very attractive man.

Overall it was Mae, Chris, Harry, Theo, George and Arthur who went for lunch, they all squeezed themselves into a booth as it was surprisingly busy for a Wednesday afternoon. Mae was inbetween Harry and George Chris was sitting opposite her, the group deciding that the two smallest people should go in the middle.

“All I’m saying is I’ve got more cake than Arthur so I don’t see why I’m in the middle,” Chris complained.

“Shouldn’t be such a fat bastard then,” Theo replied causing the table to laugh.

“Speak for yourself!” Chris retorted as he sat in the seat grumpily. Mae was typing her order in Harry’s phone as he was closest to the counter, as she handed it to George the brunette looked down as he felt a breeze from Mae swinging her legs slightly. 

“Do your legs not touch the floor?” he asked with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Mae snapped as she looked down at them only to see a pair of white shoes opposite her just hovering above the brown floor.

“Do your feet not touch the floor either?” Mae said to Chris causing everyone to look in that direction.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Chris exclaimed banging his head on the table.

“Does your height bother you?” Mae asked now feeling quite guilty in case she had upset Chris. After the break up with Shannon Chris could get a little crabby, he confided in Mae that his depression and anxiety got the better of him a little but he was doing better now. Mae really appreciated Chris being honest with her about his own struggles in a you’re not the only one going through things so don’t be embarrassed way.

“Not usually, I filmed a video yesterday, like a vs 100 models thing and after hearing “you’re short” from about half the women it grates on you a little,” he admitted sounding a little deflated.

“Well if it helps from a pixie to a hobbit height doesn’t bother me,” Mae said in an attempt to cheer Chris up but she did also mean it, Chris was an attractive guy and his height didn’t bother her in the slightest.

“Thanks.” His eyes brightened up slightly as he sat up, Harry gave Theo a knowing look while handing the blonde his phone for his own order.

The group ordered and ate, ice was thrown at one point and some even landed in Mae’s bra which caused a scream and of course that attracted attention to them. Some fans came over and asked for photos causing everyone to squeeze in more in order to get into the photo. There was one photo in particular where it was a group of three needing to all squeeze in so everyone had to get up close. George had an arm around Mae’s shoulders and from the angle it looked like his hand was on her knee but in reality it was simply laying in the very small space between them. The pair could laugh it off, Mae having had far worse rumours and truths out there especially after the year or so she had, and George being perpetually single being linked to a woman could become a big source of humour for him and his content. It was only a rumour.

[river-ocean]

Piarles + 21 ❤

hi anon <3 this got out of hand but i need to stop pretending my piarles ficlets won't get out of hand. so.

enjoy this uni/roommates AU for piarles + love confessions :)

Every year, the English department held their annual Valentine’s Day carnation sale. And every year, Charles and Pierre’s dorm filled with carnations with anonymous messages. Most of them were addressed to Charles, but Pierre was more than satisfied with the amount of flowers he received - especially since Charles always seemed overwhelmed by his mountain.

“I do not understand what the point of sending it anonymously is. How am I supposed to know who is in love with me if they don’t even sign it?” Charles asked each year, exasperation and bewilderment clear on his face. Pierre would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it adorable.

Pierre would also be lying if he said that he hadn’t been sending Charles a carnation each year, adding one more to the massive bouquet his roommate amassed.

It had started as a joke their first year. Pierre stopped by the table on his way to class, typed out a line from a poem he enjoyed, and went about his day. 

“I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world”

He thought it would be funny for his roommate to receive a carnation from an anonymous suitor. Pierre would pretend to help him figure out who it was, and then eventually he’d admit to sending it as a joke. 

He didn’t know that his roommate would receive so many that it was pointless to try to hunt down the sender.

He also didn’t expect that somewhere along the way, he’d start to actually develop a crush on his roommate.

Their second year, he sent another carnation, with another line from the same poem. 

“the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism”

Charles wasn’t much of a poetry reader. Pierre figured he wouldn’t catch on.

Their third year, he sent another carnation, another line from the poem. 

“what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank”

Pierre watched as his roommate read each of the carnation messages. Charles’ expression remained neutral as he read through them, and Pierre felt a slight pang of disappointment.

Their fourth and final year, Pierre decided that he needed to be brave. He was going to sign the message this year. 

Their plans weren’t solidified for post graduation yet, and this could be his final chance to tell Charles how he felt. Four years of living together had given him plenty of opportunities to be honest with Charles, but he had never been brave enough to take that leap.

He typed out one last line from the poem, and below it, 

“it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I’m telling you about it

I love you

-Pierre”

The carnations and messages were always delivered on Valentine’s Day.

Pierre saw the two stacks of flowers sitting outside his dorm room when he got back from class, which meant that Charles wasn’t back yet. They had an agreement not to read any of their messages until they were both home, celebrating the holiday with their carnations and the candy that Charles’ mom sent them every year.

Pierre placed the flowers on the table, pleased that the piles were pretty equal this year. 

Charles arrived home shortly after and rolled his eyes with a laugh when he saw the piles of flowers. Pierre suddenly felt nervous — the weight of his confession feeling real now that his message was on the table amongst the rest.

Pierre grew even more nervous as Charles expression remained neutral as it did every year. Had he seen Pierre’s message and ignored it? Had his flower not been delivered?

They were each down to one flower, one last anonymous message. Pierre pulled the tag off his carnation and read the message.

“Would you like to have a Coke with me?

I love you

-Charles”

He looked across the table, making silent eye contact with his roommate.

Charles was smiling, his eyes shimmering. He grabbed his backpack off the floor, unzipped the small pocket at the front, and pulled out three slips of paper. He slid them across the table to Pierre.

Pierre looked down at the papers. They had obviously been handled a lot — creased with folds and slightly tattered at the edges, like Charles had been carrying these slips with him for a while.

He picked up one of the slips and saw the message he had sent Charles a year ago. He picked up each of the other slips, and found that they were his messages from the first and second year. He looked back at Charles with wide eyes.

“I looked up the poem and I saw you had one of Frank O’Hara’s books on your bookshelf. I wasn’t sure if it was you, but I…figured it was worth a shot anyway,” Charles said softly, tentatively. “But now,” he added, sliding the final slip of paper over to Pierre with a smile.

————————————

Five years later, the officiant read Having a Coke with You by Frank O’Hara during their wedding ceremony.

[stupendousdragonwitch]

Why You Should Focus on Improving hunting mainan

In the following paragraphs Brass HO Trains talks about the background of HO Model Trains And exactly how they may be traced again to the period shortly just after Globe War II. The Japanese craftsmen were being creating exact replicas of the trains using high-quality brass. The Individuals who have been stationed in Japan observed these and obtained their beloved train styles made utilizing photos. These model trains were being accurate to the scale and ended up absolutely hand-produced.™

These brass trains were being manufactured during the HO scale, i.e., one:87 the dimensions of the real trains. The OO trains, which were double the scale of such HO trains, were far more well-known in United Kingdom, the place they had been made in response towards the economic pressures on the depression. Even though HO trains were invented within the 1930s, they received level of popularity because of the calendar year 1950s, if the desire in design railroad as toys was taken over by hobbies of collecting realistic objects. Also, the brass O scale trains were found to choose up too much Area. Importers like Max Grey, Westside Product Enterprise did the job of receiving the Japanese manufactured trains for the American current market.

A person benefit of applying brass was that it's non-magnetic and thus allow the motors to operate easily. The crafting and sculpturing can be much more quick in brass. Many of the designs have been hand-produced and hand-soldered. The brass versions were bought by people today simply because they can work them and make them operate within the tracks and surroundings which have been built utilizing equivalent scales, instead of just displaying them on Display screen situations. It necessary a lot of energy over the Element of the employee. Given that the demand from customers grew, the HO brass design trains began getting to be dearer.The models which were at the time $50 to $one hundred now are available in at $ten,000, not forgetting those that are bought in auctions at about $30,000.

Original versions on the brass trains weren't painted. The grills, wheels and various accent parts were however, nickel-plated. Since the needs of the market grew, some trains had been painted in graphite and black to create them look practical. At times, water stains and rust marks had been added here and there to really make it appear all the greater unique.

Steadily, the passions were being also location in to receive collections from particular producer that created the Brass HO trains. So, the collectibles have been based on the road or practice organization name that they are amassing.

The manufacture from the train products continued in Japan until eventually the seventies, and then they had been produced in South Korea. The brand new suppliers had a lot to further improve, which they did, until finally the trendy working day Brass HO trains are now getting created and collected like a hobby and curiosity. A set of your brass trains wouldn't bring in Substantially revenue as such and people import them only out of curiosity, being appreciated and appreciated by his fellow collectors.

An essential distinction we have to be apparent about ahead of we consider the 4 levels your connection will pass through inside your journey to a real cuckolding Life style may be the distinction between hotwifing and cuckolding, and infidelity and affairs.

The simple difference is with hotwifing and cuckolding a person's spouse has other sexual associates along with his expertise, consent and approval. Typically It truly is mencari kereta api even pushed by the man, at the very least initially, since it's a deep seated fantasy he has.

Now we recognize that we could discover the four levels I discussed previously mentioned. Nearly every relationship in which cuckolding will become the norm passes by means of these stages, and it is vital to realise They can be completely organic and typical. The only thing I am going to alert you of is as soon as you Every single the ultimate phase, then It can be all seriously out of your respective fingers.

You will end up a cuckold, much like you desired to be, and there'll be no technique for going back again, even if you wish to. We will see why This is certainly shortly.

Phase 1: Ignorance.

This is when the man has the fantasy, but his wife is aware of nothing at all of it. She won't even know she does not know. In the event you asked her about owning additional-marital sexual intercourse, she'd straight away consider infidelity and affairs, and, assuming your marriage is powerful, would very likely be repelled by The reasoning.

Phase two: Awareness.

When you've broached the subject together with her and described the difference between hotwifing and cuckolding, and possessing an affair she's aware of it and, Except she's useless-established versus it for the extent she will not likely even look at it, she'll be trying to find info on the topic and asking you many questions on it.

This stage can very last a very long time and it's important not to rush matters -- since at the time she's actually experienced sex with A different person, then though she will be able to halt and never do it once more, It is not possible to put back the clock and unfuck the man.

Phase 3: Exploration.

This is when she's performed it and she or he's favored it... and she or he's willing to do much more of it.

But there's nonetheless some Element of her that is Uncertain and she's telling herself The explanation she's undertaking it is for yourself. She'd stop any time you questioned, and he or she's continually examining with you that It can be continue to Alright.

Phase 4: Way of living.

Right after a while, your beloved undergoes a deep and profound transform.

At this time, with no her even realising it, she has grown into her position to be a sexually liberated hotwife. She's cost-free within the constraints of society which, if she was an individual female, would probable judge her harshly.

Rather, she's a respectable married female who's got the benefit of limitless outlets for her sexual Vitality.

At this stage she's executing it for herself... and if you asked her to prevent the would not.

It is not that she's cruel or unloving, It is really much more which the deep and profound transform has manufactured her so she could see no reason behind halting.

Men whose wives progress to this stage are inside a bed of their unique making. They've got asked, and also begged for this, and although they are able to halt it by leaving the wedding, if they want to stay in it, then they have to understand she has enthusiasts and that is closing.

She's going to most likely contain you in her sexual exploits, allowing you to watch and hear, but it surely's now no more about you. It's about her.

In the extreme, she could possibly have a Are living-in lover, and when you are however No. one concerning her adore and loyalty, in terms of sexual intercourse you may well be relegated into a slave, serving equally of them at their whim.

The matter to remember is this: be pretty, very, watchful what you want for.

[wildwarcat]

Are request still open?

If so- can I request a Legolas x reader where after the ring is destroying, while staying in Gondor, Legolas wants to confess to reader but something or someone is keeps unintentionally getting in the way with a bunch of fluff? Thanks! ^^

Absolutely! Requests, pairings, headcanons, they are all open! All requests are written as gender-neutral unless otherwise specified. Masterlists for everything I've written, including requests, will be put together in a few weeks! Enjoy!

When The Battle's Won (Legolas x Half-Elf!Reader)

Summary: The war is finally over and Legolas wants to tell you something important. Unfortunately, life has other ideas on how to spend this time of peace with the Prince of Mirkwood.

It was over. It was truly, genuinely over. As the Tower of Sauron collapsed before your very eyes, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Next to you, you could hear Aragorn do the same. You looked to your friend, giving him a heartfelt smile, which he wholeheartedly returned.

"Frodo did it." He breathed. A screech from above echoed across Mordor. You looked up to see the eagles carrying Gandalf and two hobbits. Sam and Frodo. They looked like they had seen hell. In fact, they had walked through it.

Your survival instincts kicked in as the eagles set your friends down on the black gravel. Your feet carried you to Frodo first, your fingers going directly to his neck, feeling for a pulse. It was weak, thready. You were certain Sam's was as well.

"Gandalf!" You called out, "We must get them to Minas Tirith! Now!"

The old wizard nodded, lifting Frodo on to Shadowfax's back, while you and Aragorn lifted Sam to his horse. You managed to gather Legolas and Gimli before mounting your own horse and breaking from the army you had helped to amass, galloping toward the White City.

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

In the days that followed Sauron's demise, Frodo and Sam were kept in the hands of Lord Elrond, healing peacefully in a quiet corner of the palace. Elsewhere though, preparations were well underway for the coronation of the new king of Gondor. Aragorn was on the move constantly, seeking out advisors, being fitted for his coronation garb, even overseeing the construction of a statue of Boromir to be unveiled at the ceremony.

You kept out of the way as best you could, usually lingering in the untouched library, lost in a book that had not been seen by Man's eyes in some centuries. It was here in this quiet space that Legolas had thought it to be best to get some things off his chest.

He had loved you for months now. Ever since he had seen you in moonlight of Lothlórien, seen how fierce you were in the Battle at Helm’s Deep, seen how kind you had been to those in need, he knew he would love you ‘til the end of days. 

You were fortunate to be blessed with immortality, having chosen the path of Elves over the path of Man nearly a thousand years before. But you had never stayed in any one place longer than you had to. Like Aragorn, your oldest friend, you had gone from kingdom to kingdom, land to land, town to town, only doing what was asked in exchange for coin, until Aragorn had recruited you to accompany him and four hobbits to Rivendell. The rest since had been history.

But now, in the present, the ellon prince stood in the great oak doorway of Minas Tirith’s library, watching as you flipped through the pages of an ancient tome, trying to put together the proper way to admit to you that he was in love. After some pondering, he had it finally figured out. He was about to step further into the room and call out your name, when Gimli snuck up behind him and grabbed his sleeve.

“No time for books, friend! Now’s the time for a drink! Or perhaps seven.” The dwarf bellowed, making you snap your head up just in time to catch a glimpse of Legolas’ delicate blue eyes on you. 

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

Over the final days leading to Aragorn’s coronation, Legolas had tried time after time to tell you of his feelings, but each and every time, something got in the way. 

After Gimli had whisked him away for drinks the first time, he had tried again that evening, but someone from the royal guard had gotten into a spat with someone else at the pub, which had led to a brawl so massive that it had spread through the entire second level of the city. You were preoccupied with tending to bruises and cuts well into the following afternoon and hadn’t had the time to speak with anyone.

Then the next day, he had managed to corner you in one of the gardens, and just as he was about to speak, Merry and Pippin came rushing in to tell you both that Frodo had finally woken up. You were gone with the hobbits before he could even blink. 

And now, here you were, standing next to Legolas and a handful of his people, they in sleek, delicately crafted silver robes, you in a robe the color of fine red wine, bearing no allegiance to any elven realm. Your y/h/c hair flowed gently with the soft breeze that passed over the courtyard. But your y/e/c eyes remained focused on what was ahead of you. Aragorn was kneeling before Gandalf as Gimli presented the wizard with the crown of Gondor. 

Once Aragorn had made his oath, the crown was placed upon him. He stood and turned, singing Elendil’s verse, before the crowd erupted with cheers and applause. The newly crowned King Elessar made his way through the crowd, eventually reaching you and Legolas. You both pressed your hands to your hearts and extended them to him, which he did in return. 

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything you’ve done.” He smiled at you. 

“I am always here when you need me, gwanur.” You replied. 

“Legolas.” Aragorn turned to the prince and gave him a knowing smirk, “It is now or never, mellon.”

The king’s eyes flicked to you and back to Legolas, before he moved on to the hobbits and then Lord Elrond. When Arwen appeared before him, you couldn’t resist smiling. They had both been waiting for so long to once again be together. 

As they kissed, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Legolas looking at you, an indescribable emotion in his beautiful blue eyes. Despite the roaring of cheers and celebration, you heard Legolas loud and clear when he spoke.

“I love you.”

Your heart leapt in your chest. Your gaze turned gentle, and you found yourself leaning in, capturing his lips in yours. No one cheered for you, no one even looked at the two of you. But it didn’t even matter. When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads pressed together, you smiled.

“I love you too.”

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

Translations:

Mellon - friend

Gwanur - brother

Ellon - elf

[bikerjongho]

independence day | ateez ot8

genre: realistic fiction, fantasy, action

characters: outlaw!ateez ot8

description: Ateez are dirty “sewer rats” that make a plan on Independence Day to dispose of a corpse that they obtained through unscrupulous means.

word count: 5.1k

warnings: blood, dead bodies, cremation, mentions of cannibalism, murder, fire, rats, swearing

author’s note: this is the fic for ateez’s fireworks music video (there are more in my masterlist here). yeehaw. uh nat this is for u ig. bc. u know. bulnoriya

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki​ @irehlevant @blueprint-han​ @doievoir​ @bvlnoriyas​ @wooyeosang​

Underground business was underground for a reason - it was too violent and traumatizing to be shown above ground.

Because of this, when Hongjoong had amassed the eight of them all of those years ago to do the dirty work of even dirtier corporate men to maintain a sliver of livelihood, he had chosen the sewer system as his headquarters. It was disgusting - Hongjoong knew more rats than humans and smelled more like a rat than a human - but disgusting was the job of murder. And since it was the sewer system, Hongjoong was only under the eyes of the rats as he washed the blood off of his hands from the one faucet of clean water that Yeosang had hijacked from the building above them. And the rats were always silent as if they too agreed upon the deeds that the eight of them committed daily, a trait from them that Hongjoong had been grateful for. Better the rats see them than any human above ground.

It had come to the point, and perhaps this tied in with Hongjoong having more rats as friends than humans as friends, where the eight of them now called themselves the Sewer Rats. They had donned the name because of where they lived, but also for the fact that being more in contact with blood than water tended to ostracize themselves from the rest of society. But none of them ever wished to live above ground in the first place. They loved what they did, even if it was in the sewers.

The odd jobs they did - murder, stealing, burning, breaking and entering, maiming, destroying, hunting, and bribing - were in high demand. If there was any human interaction in the sewers, it was ironically done by men in expensive business attire with greed clouding their minds. “Dispose of this man,” “burn down this building,” “gouge his eyes out,” were normal requests from them, the words coming out of their mouths casually while they looked spiffy in their crisp, dark suits and immaculately styled hair. It was just a task on their agenda to be crossed off before going to their next meeting, or their fancy lunch outing, or playing with their children in the front yard next to their white picket fence on Sunshine Street. Hongjoong didn’t care for their polarizing life choices. None of the Sewer Rats cared. They paid well.

And normally, these were their only clients. Greed and desire for pain came from the highest up because they could never fathom anything else for their worst enemies. “Creative, but perhaps a bit neurotic,” Seonghwa would always say when they discussed their clients of this affinity. So when someone different came into contact with the Sewer Rats, someone that had sworn to protect the nation they lived under - literally - to say they were mildly surprised was an understatement.

The secret service agent had silently tipped them off a few hours earlier, so four of them - Hongjoong, Seonghwa, San, Wooyoung - had curiously come out to see what he wanted of them, the rest of them in the middle of a job. But instead of theft, money laundering, or fraud - any of those they expected from someone in contact with the government  - the secret service agent had come out of the shadows of the sewers carrying a human corpse.

“Please,” the secret service agent had said, “you need to dispose of this body for me.” They had heard this sentence many times, but never in a situation such as this one, not from the mouth of a person that had so many political ties. “I will pay you extensively if you do it well and unnoticed.” And then he had given them the payment amount.

Hongjoong was almost knocked off his feet upon hearing the amount. The other three’s eyes widened. The sum of money, and a handsome sum it was, would allow all eight of them to leave the sewers and integrate back into society. And while none of them particularly wanted to do so, some nerves tugged at each of them that a job such as the one they did currently could only keep them going for so long - how long would it take before they switched from rotting in a sewer to rotting in a jail? The nasty jobs they did had a time bomb attached to it and the eight were helplessly ignorant to when it would inevitably go off and destroy their already fractured lives.

So the four of them had accepted the job immediately, the thought of money alone compelling. But as they discovered more about the task that they had been given, they wished they had never succumbed to their greed. Because when the agent had left the sewers, they had realized the body’s identity too late.

“This body was the Secretary of Commerce of our government,” Wooyoung had whispered, his hands shaking as he brushed back the hair of the corpse to get a better look at his face to truly confirm if he was correct about the corpse’s identity. With a quick internet search, they affirmed that Wooyoung was right. Among being a critical member of the government, they had also discovered that he had been 10th in line for the presidency as a perk of his job. Now, not only did the job of disposing of him get infinitely harder with this bit of information, but the four of them had realized almost simultaneously that they perhaps would not get out of this alive. And even if they did - the government would surely find out about them with their undercover agents, federal investigators, and private eyes.

The Sewer Rats’ location, the capital of their country, allowed for expensive jobs from rich people with even richer grudges and a penchant for evildoing. But it also meant that this job in particular was terrifyingly dangerous. Only a week ago had this man likely waved hello to the president of their nation. The government would blaze through hell to find his body, to eventually find the Sewer Rats and exterminate them like the pests and menaces they were, while the secret service agent that had given them this body would be unscathed and unnoticed.

And how were they going to tell the other four?

“We tell them the truth,” San said two hours after the body had been delivered to them, his eyes reflecting the light from one of the few dim lights in the sewer. “Because honestly, Hongjoong, I think we can treat this like any other body and-”

“We can tell them the truth, yes,” Hongjoong interjected, “but this is not a normal body. This is a body that is worth a lot of money and prestige. So we cannot treat it like any normal body.”

San’s face formed a scowl, but he said nothing more. Hongjoong had been doing this longer than him - he had to at least trust Hongjoong and his expertise even if he did not agree with it.

“Then what do you think we should do?” Wooyoung said, rocking back and forth on his heels, no doubt to get out extra energy and anxiety that was bubbling in his stomach. His question was directed at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong shrugged. “We could bury it. Or cremate it. But I’m so damn scared of the police- hell, the government finding us,” he said. Worry crinkled on his forehead. “Their security agents, I imagine, are top-notch. This isn't a personal crime anymore. This is national.”

On the far end of the sewer, a door creaked open, disrupting their group panic. The four of them shot their heads in the direction of the noise. Two small figures had entered. Hongjoong recognized the jacket on one and the hat on the other - these two were Yeosang and Jongho, back from their murder attempt. He wondered if they had succeeded.

And as they got closer, the clearer the two of them were. Hongjoong opened his mouth to ask how their job went when Jongho, who had been strolling with his hands in his pockets, removed them to show them stained with a dark red substance that could have only been blood. Only then did Hongjoong notice the red-brown stain that was forming on the front pocket of his hoodie. So they succeeded. Jongho smiled as he wiggled his bloodstained fingers.

“Hey!” Yeosang called, waving a friendly hand to the four of them. “It went well!”

As if Hongjoong hadn’t concluded that already with the color of Jongho’s hands, he gave a thumbs up anyway. The rest of them smiled at their two friends as they approached - but then it dawned on them that they would have to explain the body to them. They would have to explain the trouble it had now put them in, and they could only hope they wouldn’t be upset with the choices they had made.

San’s sharp features grew sinister when he saw Jongho’s hands. “Looks like it was fun, too,” he said to him, and Jongho gave him a knowing smile.

“Hearts are easy,” he said, shrugging.

“Who’s that?” Yeosang said, and Jongho too turned his attention to where Yeosang was pointing. The original four’s hearts sank.

“A body was given to us to dispose of,” Seonghwa said. Hongjoong could hear the uncertainty in his voice like the statement was flawed in some way and he was bad at lying. “And we’ll get a large sum of money if we do.”

“Nice,” the two of them hissed, now coming closer to approach the body.

“How much?” Jongho said, crouching down to closely examine the body that was laid haphazardly on the floor of the sewers.

“Considering he was the Secretary of Commerce of our nation, well…”

Yeosang and Jongho looked at each other. Jongho looked at Hongjoong. Yeosang looked at Seonghwa. San looked at Wooyoung in a panic.

“So that’s why there were police downtown,” Yeosang whispered to himself. “Well, shit.”

“Police?” Wooyoung said, throwing his hands in the air, exasperated. “Stupendous,” he said, his voice full of worry. “We might as well turn ourselves in now since our heads are on sticks already. Perhaps I will lie in their beds wearing lingerie if I’m going to be that noticeable for them-”

“Please do not,” Hongjoong said, raising his eyebrows at Wooyoung. “And calm down. We’ll figure something out.” As much as Hongjoong hated the situation as much as Wooyoung and the others did, and the new and burning photo of Wooyoung in lacy nightwear in his mind, he didn’t want to give the two newcomers the sense that this task was completely impossible. Because while it seemed impossible to him at the moment, he had to remember their past victories together as a team - and they were pretty powerful together.

They had gotten through much crazier situations as eight, like the mass poisoning that was covered up as a contamination of the water supply, or the death of a CFO that was thought to be because of old age, not that he had fallen down a flight of stairs because Yunho had pushed him. All of those instances had seemed impossible, but they all had critical roles they played perfectly that allowed the others to be protected and allowed the plan to work without a hitch. It wasn’t clear right now, but there was a voice inside Hongjoong that said they would survive. They would make it. It was in their nature to do so as Sewer Rats, doing dirty tasks that no one else ever did in places that no one had ever ventured, using unique strategies that no one would ever think of because they were not rats. Their sewer, as disgusting as it was, would give them a huge advantage against anyone looking for them - no one would think to look there. The thought of that gave Hongjoong some relief.

So Hongjoong had briefed them on what they had to do, what they knew, and what plans they had at the moment. To his relief, the two of them seemed fine with the circumstances, taking it all in rather easily. Yunho and Mingi, at the morgue doing paid work, would have to be briefed in the morning. But it was night, and Hongjoong was hungry. They were all hungry. Perhaps, they could think of what to do in the morning - perhaps a dream would allow clearance for a perfect idea that would secure their safety and money that would save them from living any more days with the rats.

“I say we eat the body,” Mingi said at seven in the morning.

Hongjoong was still in his pajamas, sleep pulling his eyes down as he stood next to the corpse, now pushed to the side of the sewer to give the illusion he was sleeping against the wall. He was awake because Mingi was awake, and he was chattering about the influx of bodies in the morgue that he and Yunho had witnessed. The last thing he had wanted was for Mingi to walk into the room with a body on the floor and no explanation tied to why it was there. He doubted it was the first time Mingi had seen a dead body out of the blue - after all, he worked in a morgue - but he didn’t want to take any chances, and he didn’t want any unnecessary harm to be done to the body.

Hongjoong sighed. “We are not doing that.”

“But it would be fun!” Mingi insisted, raising his eyebrows like this was somehow the greatest idea he ever had. Hongjoong sighed again. It was too early for this.

“Fun for you,” Hongjoong said, ever the pragmatist, “but it’s not practical. How would we cook the body? What do we do with the bones? How would you get the rest of them - and me - to eat it?” He couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“Nah, I was just kidding,” Mingi shrugged, batting his hand with a laugh. “Though,” he said suddenly, his eyes lighting up, “we could-”

Hongjoong glared at him. Mingi did not finish his sentence.

“Will you tell Yunho about this when he wakes up?” Hongjoong continued wearily. “Tell him we don’t have a plan yet, but I’m working on it.”

“We’re working on it,” Mingi said, winking. “But if push comes to shove, Hongjoong…”

“I’ll eat you after I eat him,” Hongjoong muttered. “And I’m going back to sleep.”

But even in sleep, Hongjoong was at a loss for ideas. It was unusual of him to be like this - usually out-of-the-box ideas came to him immediately, whether it was from a dream or a thought he had during his morning eggs. But this body, this damn body of the Secretary of Commerce, had stumped him. And as he slept, his brain gave him no solstice to calm the anxiety of not knowing a plan. Instead, he received dreams of the police coming to skin all eight of them alive, to burn them at the stake like witches while fireworks burst in the night sky in flurries of colors behind their charing bodies in a celebration that the Sewer Rats had been stopped. He prayed that, perhaps, at least one of the other seven members had come up with an idea during the night and he would wake up with a solution for the corpse that was now a part of their entourage.

“Eating the body seems doable,” Yunho said while the eight of them sat around a table eating frozen sausages and attempted boiled eggs - courtesy of Jongho. Absolutely no new ideas had been thought of and it didn’t help any of them digest their breakfast. “It’s better than whatever shit we’re eating currently.”

“For the last time!” Hongjoong cried, shaking his head while he stabbed at an egg with his fork - and missed. “We are not resorting to cannibalism.”

“Sounds like someone is satisfied with the food they’re getting every day,” Yunho said suspiciously while he took a sip of mysteriously murky water from a tin can. “You know, human meat is lucrative, and perhaps we could get even more money-”

“I’m literally trying to eat,” Seonghwa cut in, glaring at Yunho and then Mingi. “Human food. Food that is not from my own fucking species. So I agree with Hongjoong. We’re not doing that.”

The two of them put their hands up in defeat, shaking their heads. “Fine,” they chorused.

But as the days became longer and more uncertain, little progress was made on what to do with the body. Wooyoung had the smart idea of ceasing all cannibalism thoughts by suggesting they cremate the body - a compromise that left all parties happy. It wasn’t cannibalism, which satisfied most of the group, and fire was used in the act, which was something that all of them enjoyed using for tasks, Yunho and Mingi no exception. It would also remove the corpse that was beginning to attract flies and rats, and, if needed, detour the police from them if they decided to venture down to the sewers.

So Hongjoong had sent Mingi and Yunho out to get a coffin, some gasoline, and a lighter. This was the convenience of the morgue - coffins were easy to come by, and the other items were easy to obtain in comparison. And with police crawling around looking for their corpse, Hongjoong had come up with one of his classically brilliant ideas for Yunho and Mingi to stay under their radar while getting the coffin.

“There has got to be some kind of garage sale going on, somewhere,” Hongjoong said to the two of them, standing in front of them with his arms folded across his chest like he was sending his two delinquent children off to school and was pleading for them to not misbehave while they were there. “Find a huge cardboard box from one of the items - a couch, a desk, whatever - and put the coffin in it. That way, when you two are bickering on your way back to the sewers, you look like too pissy movers instead of two very suspicious men carrying a goddamn coffin in the middle of downtown. No one will pay any attention to you.”

“Sounds perfect for us,” Mingi nodded before saluting at Hongjoong. Hongjoong gained ten years of age on his face.

“Please, just get it done,” he said, sighing. “And don’t forget the gasoline and the lighter.”

“Will do!” The two chorused, and Hongjoong watched as they skipped off to do their tasks. As silly as they were, he knew they would do it. Now he had to turn his attention to other tasks; for as much as there was on his mind regarding the body, there were still more things to worry about to keep his life in the sewers afloat. Hongjoong walked deeper into the sewers en route to his room to get changed into a suit. He had to do some convincing on a businessman.

Only San and Yeosang were present when Mingi and Yunho returned a few hours later, whistling a merry tune as they walked in with an enormous cardboard box that they carried together. On Yunho’s back was a yellow backpack. “The coffin for the Secretary is here!” He cried as he and Mingi set the large box down. Yunho took off his backpack and unloaded a pack of lighters and a jar of gasoline.

When Hongjoong came back in his bloodstained suit a few hours later, he found the coffin to be satisfactory. “No one suspected you as you walked down the street?” He asked Yunho and Mingi, who shook their heads.

“We were the most annoying movers on the planet,” Mingi said, satisfied. He looked over to where their corpse sat. The rats had started to eat away at him - but better him than the Sewer Rats’ supply of food.

“We sang patriotic songs on the way so we blended right in with Independence Day coming up,” Yunho said with a grin. “Off-key. It was great.”

“So when are we dealing with the body?” Mingi asked, still looking at it as it sat. “Tonight, after dinner?”

After dinner was an ideal time to do it - vendors and markets came alive during the night, and the food they made was no exception. From spicy and delicious chicken dishes to hearty soups, downtown was filled with wonderful smells and smoke. The smoke from the food would not be any different from the smoke that would come from burning the body, giving them a secure cover. Hongjoong was determined to outwit the police until the end - and this was how he would begin it.

So when nighttime came and the eight of them could smell their favorite noodle dish from a vendor near a drain that led to the sewers, they were ready to dispose of this corpse. Jongho picked him up and threw him into the casket unceremoniously. Almost instantly, rats followed, leaping from parts of the sewers that Hongjoong didn’t even know existed to get into the casket with the body. They all cringed.

“Is that what they think of us?” Wooyoung whispered to San while Seonghwa poured the gasoline all over the body. “Just waiting until we die so they can feast on our meat?”

“Probably.” San shrugged at Wooyoung before walking towards the body with a lighter in his hands. He flicked it with his thumb and the flame appeared, small and meek yet glowing with a powerful orange hue. The fire reflected in his dark eyes as he looked at it, watching it dance while it captured the oxygen in the air.

“You know those scenes in movies where the guy throws the lighter and all of the gasoline lights up upon its impact, making a huge fire?” San said. “That’d be cool if that happened, but it’s probably just a movie thing.” Keeping the lighter on, he threw it casually into the coffin.

An enormous fire, filled with angry oranges and powerful yellows and daunting blues, erupted from the coffin in explosive effect, and San yelped as it appeared in front of him. He jumped back to get away from the scorching heat, his mouth wide open.

“It’s not just a movie thing,” Wooyoung snickered, giving his friend a little nudge as the fire put on a show in front of them.

“No shit,” San murmured as he watched the fire. It was a bit like a campfire sing-a-long - eight men in a circle, enjoying a bit of the heat that was so rare down in the dank sewers and watching the fire’s experienced dance as it ate up the body. Except it wasn’t a campfire sing-a-long, because it was the body of a human and they were rejoicing as it went up in flames.

It took about two hours, but the fire soon quieted down and all that was left was a pile of ashes in the center of the coffin.

“There’s probably damn rats in the ashes, too,” Hongjoong said as he grabbed a smaller cardboard box and began shoveling the ashes into it with a spoon he had eaten cereal with the morning prior. “They could have just gone hungry,” he said with a sort of conviction as if he had remorse for the rats after damning them, “now they’re dead.”

But now that the body was gone, no one knew what to do with the ashes. “We could just sprinkle them somewhere and be done,” Seonghwa said, but Hongjoong wouldn’t allow it. Human ashes were not biodegradable, and although he was a murderer he was not an anti-environmentalist.

“But besides,” Hongjoong said, continuing his reasoning, “although safety intelligence officers wouldn’t be able to tell whose body it was, I still don’t want them to find a convenient pile of human ashes in some alleyway downtown. We need a way that will spread them. That is how we will outsmart them.”

“Or just throw them into a dumpster, call it a day,” Jongho said, shrugging. “Who’s going to root through a dumpster?”

The idea induced a few murmurs around the boys, but Hongjoong shook his head. It was a valid idea - but something was itching at him to do something bigger, something better. It was a job, an obligation, to rid themselves of the body, but Hongjoong wanted to make this something worth remembering - something explosive and bombastic - like fireworks.

And the idea hit Hongjoong like a train, and he grinned so widely that everyone stared at him with concerned looks.

“That’s your murder face,” Mingi said hesitantly. “Your scheming face.”

“Because I’ve come up with an idea for the body,” Hongjoong said, and he could feel the worry of this task melting away - this plan was perfect. This plan was genius. This plan would leave absolutely no traces - and in any instance, it was the perfect irony for a person of the Secretary’s caliber to be dealt with like this.

So on Independence Day, the Sewer Rats left their home and surfaced above ground. Thanks to Yunho and Mingi, they all sported the colors of their nation through flags, silly hats, and pins. Wearing the colors was a representation of their pride for the country that had pushed them into the sewers. Yeosang carried a backpack on his back, and inside were the remains of the Secretary of Commerce in a box, among other tools for their plan. As they meandered by a group of police making sure people on the streets were behaving - there was going to be a large display of fireworks for the public in a big clearing - Yeosang gave them a smile.

“Careful,” Hongjoong muttered to him after seeing his friendly face.

“It’s fine,” Yeosang said, laughing as he nudged Hongjoong in the side. “There are too many people. They’re not going to pay any attention to us, not when there’s so much more activity going on that’s clearly a lot more dangerous.” He gestured towards a group of teenagers that were waving sparklers in each others’ faces. “They can worry about people like them.”

“That looks fun,” Wooyoung ogled at the teenagers.

Hongjoong looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “No.”

The eight of them, and they looked like quaint college students, situated themselves on a blanket in the grass brought by Seonghwa surrounded by dozens of other families preparing to see the fireworks. Around them, police loomed, and as the sky darkened, they looked more like ominous demons. But darkness would be a benefit for them as well - Yeosang, the main component for disposing of the Secretary of Commerce, would only be a vaguely human shape to others so long as the sun was not in the sky. It was a natural disguise given to him by nature, like nature wanted them to succeed.

“See you guys in a bit, I’m going to get some hot dogs,” Yeosang said to them as he stood up from the blanket, and the others murmured affirmatives. In reality, they all knew he was going elsewhere.

Yeosang weaved through the crowd with the backpack on his shoulders, looking around for where the fireworks could be set up. It was generally advised that people sit a certain distance away from the base of the fireworks to reduce residue from falling on the viewers as the fireworks exploded in the sky, so as Yeosang kept walking, the crowd thinned until he was one of few people in a large clearing. Ahead, he saw the silhouettes of people moving around - he knew with an almost certainty that they were the workers that would set up the fireworks for the upcoming show. And if they weren’t, Yeosang was a Sewer Rat. He could take on anyone.

As he got closer, Yeosang’s steps slowed and he changed from walking to crouching, then to crawling completely on his stomach. He was close enough that he could hear them now, even when he was on the ground and grass was brushing against his face - these were the fireworks workers, chatting with each other and making sure the fireworks were ready to go for the show.

“Twenty minutes till, I’m excited,” one said.

Yeosang snuck behind a large box, undoubtedly filled with excess fireworks. For a fleeting moment, he considered stealing a few - they could likely make a killing on certain markets - but he retracted the thought immediately. He was here for the ashes, and if he played his cards right, he, and the rest of the Sewer Rats, would have enough money to never steal again. The weight of their freedom and his was heavy on his shoulders, and Yeosang could only pray that he would not mess up. Their livelihood depended on it.

So when one of the workers, done checking the fireworks for the fifth time to make sure they were set up correctly decided to film a TikTok to amuse the rest of his bored coworkers, Yeosang made a grab for one of the giant shelled fireworks in line next to the cannon-like mechanism that would shoot them into the air. He turned the shell around in his hands, then removed the backpack from his back and took out what he needed - the ashes, a small drill, and a funnel.

The sound of a popular TikTok audio was enough to cover the noise of the drilling as Yeosang created a tiny hole in the shelled firework. He coughed just to be cheeky - no one heard him. He was all smiles as he used the funnel to neatly dump the Secretary of Commerce inside the shell of the firework. When he was done, he carefully placed the firework back where it was and crawled away.

When the fireworks went off at the hour, people cheered while others were in awe over the beauty of them all. The Sewer Rats cheered as well, but for vastly different reasons.

The fireworks were so mesmerizing that it was impossible to notice the ashes from the reactions of the chemicals raining down onto the viewers as they admired the multi-colored display of fireworks. It was impossible to differentiate those ashes from the ashes of a government man raining down on his people on the most patriotic day of the entire year. With their task complete, the Sewer Rats declared independence.

[alrightberries]

three weeks

❈ pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

❈ genre: angst. ❈ word count: 1.9k

❈ summary: “It’s been three weeks, and Levi still lies to himself when he says he’s okay.”

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of violence, death and gore. explicit description of panic/anxiety attack.

a/n: i’m not sure what... this is since i just randomly started typing it but hopefully y’all still like it.

He could still feel you.

Feel your presence in his room; in his hollow heart. With every shallow breath he took he swore he could still feel your warm palm on his skin, gently patting his shaking shoulders.

The clothes you'd left behind were still in his closet. The little notes you'd scribbled to him on random days still compiled. The letters you wrote sit heavy in a wooden box inside his bedside drawer.

He once complained that they created clutter in his room when you started slowly moving your things into his private quarters. It started off with clothes left on his unmade bed and eventually ended with you bringing your hygiene products to his personal bathroom. Slowly but surely, you moved in. Slowly but surely, you cemented a place in his life where you'd already cemented a place in his heart.

But now glancing at your shared bed, half empty, he simply couldn't find it in himself to do anything about your ‘clutter.’ It was, after all, all he had left of you.

The pillows on your side of the bed still smelled like you. The cotton where you slept countless nights before had a slight depression, an imprint of your body on the mattress. Faintly, if Levi closes his eyes, he swears he could still feel your fingertips running through his scalp as you peppered sweet little kisses onto his calloused skin.

His own fingers reach out and grasps at air where your beautiful face should be, sleeping peacefully next to him. Snoring. Twitching your eyes when you had nightmares. Him gently shaking you awake and holding you close to reassure you that everything was okay, whatever you dreamt of wasn't real, and he'll be here to make the darkness go away.

Yet his own darkness starts to eat at his conscience. He curses at his hands for even having the audacity to reach for you when it was these same hands that signed your death certificate earlier in the day.

Three weeks.

That’s how long it's been since he woke up next to you. Since he bid you good luck before breaking into formation as you crossed the walls and rode your horses through titan country.

It’s been three weeks since you were separated from your squadron. Since they came back from the expedition and he'd only noticed you weren't there when they finally reached the walls. Since he searched through countless corpses and severed bodies, trying to find your own.

It’s been three weeks since he's pushed off on signing the "M.I.A. - PRESUMED DEAD" document with your name and information printed at the top before he was forced to come to terms with your fate when the second search party once again came back empty handed.

It’s been three weeks since he last cracked a smile. Since he lost the last reason he had to strive forward. Since he lost the last reason to hope for a better place; a better future; a small home in the suburbs to live out the rest of his life with you.

It’s been three weeks since he last heard your voice. Since he rested his cheek against the palm of your hand. Since he first picked up a bottle of bourbon and let the alcohol numb his distressed mind and aching heart to the reality that you were gone.

Three weeks. It’s been three weeks, and Levi still lies to himself when he says he’s okay.

A breeze passes through the open window, snapping him from his thoughts. Goosebumps form on his skin but he couldn’t bring himself to get underneath the sheets or close the window because he tells himself that the breeze was you. It was you, checking up on him, scolding him for drowning his sorrows in bottles of brewed brown, wiping away the tears he didn’t even know he’d shed as the pain of loss and mourning— the very things he’d been trying to outrun— hit him all at once.

He closes his eyes to stop more tears from falling. But he knew he was really doing it because he found darkness more comforting than having to look at your shared room. Not when you weren’t there to make the darkness go away when he opened his eyes. Not when every little thing reminded him of you.

The chair in the corner where you always sat, reading under the dim glow of candlelight. The shelves full of books, an impressive collection you’d both amassed throughout the years. Even the porcelain cup that sat on his bedisde table reminded him of you. It was a gift you’d given him when you were both still in the Underground. A cup matching his own sat on your bedside table, that much he already knew without having to open his eyes. He brewed you a cup of tea hours before going on the expedition that would seal your fate.

His skin tingles when he remembers the way you held his hand as you both sipped tea on that day. You were sat next to each other on the bed. He was reading the newspaper and you were reading a book, intertwined hands resting in the space between your bodies.

A new wave of tears threaten his eyes and he hears himself sob before he realizes the tears have fallen again. His hands clutch at his hair, pulling at the strands, and he lays on his side to curl up into a ball as he wills himself to stop, be quiet, and stop being so weak.

His heart began to speed up and his ears began to ring. He couldn’t focus. It was so noisy— everything was too much. The was talking. So much talking.

shut up. be quiet. leave me the fuck alone.

Levi realizes that the talking was his own conscience degrading him, and he wonders if he’s finally snapped. He heaves and gasps for air, trying to get his mind to shut up, but it only serves for the noise to get worse and suddenly the ringing in his ears turns into static. His heart begins to thump louder, and he’s accutely aware that he was having a panic attack.

Pathetic mewls leave his lips and his hands reach out to your side of the bed out of habit, just as he’s done plenty of times before. Only this time he doesn’t feel your fingers gently grasp at his shaking wrists to pull him to your chest, to hold him and whisper sweet nothings into his ears to calm him down. Instead, he grasps at white fabric, and he lets out a frustrated growl when he once again feels air where you should be.

Unfair. It was unfair.

It was unfair how you were taken away from him so easily. How he hadn’t even noticed until it was too late. How he didn’t have a body to mourn, knowing you were either rotting away in a forest or disfigured in some titan’s belly.

Levi cracks open his eyes and his gaze lands on splotches of wetness on his pillow, the marks of his sorrowful tears. He sniffles, telling himself there was no need to be so pathetic when soldiers died everyday. He repeats it to himself like a mantra.

But then, he thinks, you weren’t just any other soldier. You were y/n— his y/n. The owner of his heart. The love of his life. The one who kisses his forehead good morning and good night. Who held his hands underneath the table before giving him a knowing glance, like you were sharing a secret that only you two knew of. Who would slip little notes into his pockets when you thought he wasn’t looking. Who sat with him in silence and calmed him down when emotions got the better of him. Who held him close and tight on nights like this, when the crushing reality of pain and loss finally broke him. And the sickening irony of needing you the most because he was mourning your death almost made him want to laugh.

He doesn’t know how long he stayed there. Unmoving. Curled up into a ball on your side of the bed, nose digging into the sheets to find comfort in the remnants of your scent as he hugged himself to slowly calm himself down.

Suddenly, he hears the door to his office burst open and rapid footsteps approaching his room. The wood slams against the wall, and his reddened eyes meet the wide and panicked ones of a soldier he’s seen in passing. She’s breathing heavily like she ran a mile to get there, sweat dripping down her forehead as she frantically looks around in search of the captain before finally landing on the man in question.

“Captain Levi, we—“ She’s cut off when he heaves a loud sigh, slowly sitting up and rubbing his red puffy face.

“Has there been a breach?” He asks. His voice is hoarse, she notices. The tone is calm but his eyes are angered, clearly not amused to be interrupted when he was mourning, and the soldier visibly gulps as she replies.

“N-no, Captain.”

“Are there titans anywhere in the walls?”

“No, but sir we—“

“Has anyone died in the few hours that have passed since dinner? Choked on their own spit, perhaps?”

“Well, no. But—“

“Then why the hell are you here?”

“Captain I was—“

A thought crosses his mind and he clicks his tongue in irritation. “Tch, did shitty glasses send you?”

“...yes but—“

“Tell four-eyes to stop sending people to check up on me.” He murmurs, beginning to lie down. “I’m allowed some goddamn privacy the night before my fiance’s funeral.”

“Yes but, sir, that’s actually why I’m here.”

“Whatever motivational words you have to say, save it for someone who cares.” He pulls the sheets above his head. “I’ve had enough pity-filled glances and half assed condolences thrown my way to give a damn—“

“Captain Levi, Y/N is alive!”

The soldier doesn’t know what’s happening until her back is abruptly slammed into the wall behind her and pain shoots from her spine to the back of her head. Hands are tightly wrapped around her throat in an ironclad grip, and her feet are dangling from the ground. She gulps.

The captain’s face is mere centimeters away from hers. If she thought he looked angry before, then the scowl he gave her now made it look like he was smiling just moments ago.

“What kind of sick joke do you think you’re playing, huh?” He sneers. “You think it’s funny to make fun of someone’s death?”

She tries to reply but only choked sounds escape her lips as her fingernails claw at her captor’s hands. Tears blur her vision as the Captain tightens his grip, but the way his eyes almost glowed a bright red— the clear intent to murder if she so much as breathed out of line— didn’t go unnoticed to her.

“Do you get some fucked up kick out of this?” He asks again. “You get a kick making fun of a man who’s lost everything?”

He loosens his grip the slightest, and the soldier is momentarily releived when she realizes she could finally speak.

“N-no, sir, I—“

“Levi, let her go!” Another frantic voice pleads with him from behind. “She’s telling the truth.”

Wait, what?

“What?” He chokes out. His grip loosens on the soldier and she slides to the ground in relief, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Hange cautiously walks closer, almost scared that any sudden movements would put Levi in a state of shock. They slowly, warily place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s true, Levi. Y/N is alive.” The Section Commander murmurs. “Your Y/N is alive. They’re looking for you.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[andreisvechnikov]

Seth Jarvis Full Athletic Article:

When Seth Jarvis took the ice at PNC Arena on Oct. 31, gearing up for the traditional NHL rookie solo lap before the puck dropped on Hurricanes-Coyotes, one simple task was on his mind.

“Don’t fall on the puck and don’t toe-pick,” he said.

Mission accomplished.

“After I got past that, I was just super excited. The fans were awesome. They were loud. It was everything I expected.”

He wasn’t the only one nervous about the moment. The 19-year-old’s parents, Ray and Tracey, and his older brother, Kayden, had been waiting anxiously for this day, as well. Making a trip from Winnipeg to Raleigh, North Carolina, is extra difficult these days. The Jarvis family had been COVID-19 testing every few days to make sure they wouldn’t miss Seth’s NHL debut.

“My mom is very — she needs to have structure; she needs to have routine,” Kayden told The Athletic recently. “This has been killing her, just the day by day kind of stuff. My dad is a bit more easygoing. But it’s been exciting for both of them. They’re just over-the-moon proud.

“It was honestly probably one of the best moments of my entire life, just getting down there and getting to watch him play — just because I’ve known how hard he’s worked, how hard my parents have worked, to get him to this spot that he’s in.”

The No. 13 pick from the 2020 draft had arrived with the Hurricanes.

And now we know he’s not going anywhere for a while. Head coach Rod Brind’Amour confirmed Monday that Jarvis will play his 10th NHL game Monday night against the Sharks, crossing the “tryout” threshold. Per the CHL-NHL agreement, a team is allowed to use a junior-eligible player in nine NHL games before deciding whether to burn a year of his entry-level contract or send him back to his junior team (for Jarvis, the Portland Winterhawks). The Hurricanes could always return Jarvis later, but losing a year of the entry-level deal down the line disincentivizes them to keep him if they intend to do that.

Outsiders may not have seen this coming — may say this is ahead of schedule — but Jarvis’ family has known it’d happen since he was four years old and said it out loud. When he first learned how to write, he put pen to paper and declared not only that he was going to make it to the NHL, but also the steps he’d take to make it happen.

And even before that, Jarvis had what his brother called a “tell” that he was going to grow up to be a determined force to be reckoned with.

“When he was a baby, before he could even talk, he always had a soother in his mouth,” Kayden said. “You knew that when he would tilt the soother and his eyes would narrow, you had about three or four seconds where you had to decide if you would stay there and take a punch. He would come storming at you.

“He’s always been like this, where anything he did, he was going 100 mph. He was going as hard as he can, and then he had this competitiveness to him, where if you got on the wrong side of him, you’d better watch out because he is coming full force.”

A grown-up Jarvis indicated after missing a penalty shot in Anaheim last week that he has improved on the three- to four-second trigger.

“I give myself a 20-second rule,” he said. “I think about it for 20 seconds and get mad about it, then I let it go. You can’t dwell on things that long, especially in a fast game like that. You’ve got to move forward, and whatever happens, happens.”

This 100 mph, hard-as-he-can-go, rage-harnessing ability has been on display early in his explosive NHL career — an assist in Game 1, a goal in Game 2, then two consecutive disallowed goals followed by two consecutive game-winners and a game-opening goal. Through nine NHL games, he’s amassed four goals (all even strength), one assist and a plus-4 rating. He’s also drawn four penalties and is good for several high-danger chances per evening.

“Any time I was watching him play growing up and I saw him get hooked or slashed or anything like that, you could tell when he got to the bench,” Kayden said. “Me and my parents would look at each other and be like, ‘Oh boy, someone’s in trouble next shift.'”

Maybe that’s why, after having two consecutive goals disallowed a few weeks ago, he just groaned, “Again?!” and then went on to score three more. Mind you, he’s a teenager trying to stay on an NHL roster.

“It’s a lot of fun (playing with him),” linemate Sebastian Aho said. “He’s a good kid. He can really skate and is a smart player. It’s fun to play with him, and I just try to find him and, obviously, he can score.”

And scoring is just the start. The most impressive thing Jarvis has done so far in the NHL is earning Brind’Amour’s trust as an all-around player. He’s moved from the bottom six to the first line, and he’s gone from playing 10:01 in his first game and 9:14 in his second game to a high of 18:43 in Game 6 and averaging 15:33 in his past three games.

“I think that’s what makes Seth so versatile is he’s able to play different roles,” said Kayden, who is a skills coach at The Rink Training Center in Winnipeg. “He’s able to be a scorer, he’s able to be a grinder or be in a checking role. A player like that, you can slot him into different areas. (It’s) so huge for a team. Especially a team like Carolina that’s so deep, where the top six is pretty much solidified.

“If you want to be able to play a role, you have to adjust your game a little bit. I think that’s one of the things Seth does super well, he’s able to kind of switch between ‘OK, this game I’m focused on trying to score.’ Maybe next game, it’s PK. Whatever it is, he’s always been able to rotate through those roles.”

Still, with his CHL eligibility and the Hurricanes’ strength up front, it would have been easy to write off the 5-foot-10, 175-pound Jarvis’ chances of making it this far on a team that could be contending for a Cup next summer.

His determination and skill have dictated otherwise. Brind’Amour already slotting him onto the first line and the power play is telling, but perhaps it’s because he can actually handle the rest.

“In one word: He’s got the skill level,” Brind’Amour said. “That certainly helps. And then, he’s a very quick learner. His play away from the puck — that’s always been the jammer for the kids coming out of junior hockey. They can handle a puck, they have talent, but a lot of the time, it’s that awareness away from the puck. He’s done a real nice job with that. Everything we’ve thrown at him, he’s seemed to really pick up. That’s why he’s still here.”

Jarvis turned the front offices’ heads in the AHL when he scored seven goals and 11 points in nine games, but he was playing against AHL players. He turned heads again at the offseason prospect showcase, but he was playing against prospects.

He became truly impossible to count out during the preseason with the Hurricanes, when he was playing against talent like Brayden Point, of the back-to-back Stanley Cup champion Lightning. Jarvis idolized Point growing up, seeing a smaller player he could emulate in him. Point didn’t know that, but he told Jarvis during the teams’ preseason game that based on the way he was playing, he was going to make the Hurricanes.

Point was right, and now it looks like he’ll stick around.

“It’s pretty clear what’s gonna happen,” Brind’Amour said after Jarvis’ ninth game with the team. “I could have told you that eight or nine games ago, but (the Hurricanes front office) loves the drama.”

The Jarvis family, not so much. Maybe now Tracey will finally get some routine back in her life.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Injured Sentence Starters - 'It feels like I’m dying' with Scott & John

No Witness

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Hurt/Comfort Characters: John, Scott

So apparently this one’s four months old, but my muse finally sparked on it, so here we go!  (See, I get around to prompts eventually... my muses are just fickle.  Sorry for the delay!)

Not entirely sure where this is going to go, but I have a beginning in my head so I’ll just let it roll.

Okay, not a physical injury, but a lovely pile of angst nonetheless!

Neither of them were prone to exaggeration.  Hyperbole - John liked that word, had found it in a dictionary as a child and found it apt to describe things like Gordon’s latest claims that he could hold his breath for an hour.  Alan was prone to being hyperbolic, too, and even Virgil wasn’t always immune, but John preferred to stick to the facts, and Scott...

Well, Scott could be known, sometimes - more so when he was younger - to flourish his storytelling a little.  But something like this, he wouldn’t say unless he meant it.  Not after Mom.  Not after Dad.

On the surface, Scott looked fine.  Went about life the same way he always did, a strong, unshakable force that nothing could cower.

Under that front, however...  Scott was only human.  Mom’s death was still an open wound.  Dad’s crash was raw.  Scott pretended he was okay, pretended that he could manage, but he was barely twenty and Dad had been so big.  So famous.  So much.

And now all of that was on Scott’s shoulders.  In the dead of night, when no-one was watching, it was too much.

John hadn’t meant to be in his brother’s room.  He wasn’t entirely sure why he was in there, rather than his own, but despite his general preference for isolation - and the delight of having his own bedroom - he’d found himself gravitating towards his big brother.

Instantly, he’d known two things.  One was that he’d never breathe a word of it to anyone.  The second was that he couldn’t leave.

Moonlight highlighted the tear tracks running down Scott’s face, his unshakable big brother curled up at the head of his bed, knees to his chin and arms wrapped around them.

Scott was their big brother.  Scott was the one that held them all together, kept them going.

Scott had lost his parents, too.  Scott had lost his own support even as he carried on supporting the rest of them.

When the realisation washed over him, John felt like an idiot for not noticing how much he’d been struggling.

He didn’t announce his presence, but he let the door shut silently behind him and padded across the carpet on bare feet.  Whether or not Scott noticed him at all until he pulled himself onto the bed and pressed up against him, shoulder to shoulder, he didn’t know.

Scott didn’t pull away at the touch.  There was a quiet sob at the contact, but otherwise no response.  If John hadn’t already realised how much he was suffering, that would have sent alarms ringing all the way through him.

It still did, Scott never one to show weakness if he could help it, but this wasn’t the first time John had seen Scott broken.  Fifteen years of sharing a bedroom had seen to that, and the weeks after Mom’s death had been hard.  Terrible.

Agonising.

Scott wasn’t the big brother here.  He didn’t need a little brother curling up next to him and looking up at him in wide-eyed adoration and blind belief.  He was the grieving son, the young man barely out of teenagerhood who’d had both his parents torn from him and four brothers to be strong for.

John shifted slightly, raising his arm and wrapping it around Scott’s shoulders the way his big brother did for him when things were particularly bad and even he needed the physical contact to ground himself again.

Scott melted against his side.

Words weren’t exchanged.  There was nothing to say; anything he tried would be worse than meaningless.  Sniffles and gulps hung in the air instead, emotions and grief pouring out of Scott after having to hold everything together for so long.

“I feel like I’m dying.”  The words were quiet, a secret hanging tentatively between the two of them.  From anyone else, John would dismiss it as hyperbole.  Scott...  Not Scott.

He tightened his hold, feeling his brother slot more firmly against his side in an almost unheard of role reversal, because Scott needed this even if it wasn’t John’s personal preference when it was him on the receiving end.

“There’s so much,” Scott carried on, more words to linger for a moment before scattering into the void of the night, never to be caught again.  “Dad-  He-”  A louder gulp interrupted the stuttered words.  “I’m drowning.”

John understood.  Dad had been larger than life, but he’d lived more than twice as long as Scott.  He’d had time to amass all of that, to adjust to the weight of the world he was building.

That world had slammed on top of Scott all at once.  He hadn’t been ready for it, and it was breaking him.

Drowning him, as Scott put it, as though it had morphed into shackles, pulling him down, down, down, into the depths of responsibility.  Maybe it had.  But whatever form it had taken, John knew what he had to do.

“You won’t,” he promised, voice just a little louder than Scott’s near-silent confessions.  Firmer.  “I won’t let that happen.”

Scott’s breath hitched, but it was a startle, not another sob.  “You-”

“We’ll work it out.”  Ideas were already swirling, logistics and what responsibilities could and should be shared coming to the fore, but now wasn’t a time to vocalise those.  Now was a time to hold his brother afloat.  “I won’t let you drown.”

They weren’t the two kids that sometimes curled up in the same bed when the world got too rough any more.  They were both adults, if only barely, and John hadn’t shared his sleeping space with anyone else - even Scott - in years.  Not since Mom had died, and there was a tragic poignancy that it was mourning for Dad that had them back in this position again.

John let his bare toes nudge underneath the covers, pressing his ankle to Scott’s in a silent promise that tonight, he wasn’t leaving.  A shudder ran through his brother at the touch, and as though a switch had been flicked, Scott moved.

Come morning, there would be no sign that it had ever happened.  Scott would rise with the sun and get on with his day while John slunk back into his own room before any little brothers noticed he hadn’t spent the night there, and they’d go back to the daily routine of scraping their lives back together.  John would find a way to start siphoning off responsibilities, releasing Scott from some of the weights dragging him into the depths, despite the resistance his brother would put up, and the world would keep turning the same as it always did.

Come morning, no-one but the moon and stars would know that Scott spent the night curled up against John’s chest, head buried in his shoulder and salt on his cheeks, as though he was a drowning man and John was the lifeline keeping his head above the water.

Scott fell asleep like that, looking like the young, lost, fledgling of a man he was, kept afloat for one night by his brother.

There was no sleep for John that night.

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

The Interview: Part One

Title: The Interview - A Luke x Reader One Shot

Words: 3,177

Summary: Y/N gets to interview Sunset Curve when they finally go on tour near where she lives.

TW: None

Author’s notes: Ok… the interview part is kind of inspired by a glorious evening when myself and a friend got to interview our favourite band just before a gig. I was much clumsier that Y/N and made a complete fool of myself on more than one occasion, but it seemed to have worked because they loved the interview – or so they told us.

I hope you like it. I’m not 100% with it, but didn’t want to drag it out for the hell of it. This is set in the UK, so spellings may be a little different.

(credit @nikascott​)

The first time you heard Now or Never, you knew there was something special about Sunset Curve. Their lyrics and the beats of their pop rock tracks made you feel amazing and you couldn’t help but dance every time you heard them.

You spent all your time online anyway, so you decided to set up a Sunset Curve fan account. You didn’t expect much to come out of it due to bein in the UK while they were based in the US. But you religiously shared photos of the guys, wrote funny articles about them after speaking to people who’d been to their shows. Shared credited photos from gigs which soon got you respect from the fans and you began to build up a following.

You managed to fit running the account single handed, fitting it in between being at university studying for your degree in media and working part time. You’re not in it for the recognition, you just want to show your appreciation for a band you love.

Your best friend, Carrie, doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how you can spend so much time expelling energy on four guys you’re never going to meet, but she indulges you because you also run one for her band, Dirty Candi. Your friend and the rest of her group are insanely talented, and even though they’re not a genre you tend to listen to, you support them because that’s what friends do.

It’s been a year since you’d first heard Now or Never and since you set up the account. You’ve amassed over ten thousand followers, most of whom are also in the UK, when you get your first band member follow. Bobby Wilson, the rhythm guitarist likes a post you shared about him and promptly follows you. You get constant likes from him and sometimes the odd comment. Your followers go insane but you manage to keep calm, ish.

The second follow is Alex, the drummer. This time you do go a bit crazy, because he’s adorable and you can’t help be a little in love with him.

It takes less than a day after Alex’s follow before the bassist, Reggie to follow you and send your notifications into overdrive by commenting on a ton of posts. You scream into a pillow on your bed because it’s 2 a.m. and you don’t want to wake Carrie up.

The one follow you’re waiting for doesn’t come. Luke Patterson, the lead singer and your favourite member hasn’t joined his bandmates, and while you never expected it, you’re more than a little upset by the fact.

“Honey, he’s like a Rockstar. He’s got more important things to do than follow fan accounts online.” Carrie was right, but it still stung a bit.

“I know, but…”

“Y/N, sweetie. I adore you, but you need to let it go. I don’t want you working yourself up over this, please. Why don’t we have a girlie night, just the two of us? We’ll watch cheesy films, eat junk food, and sing bad karaoke. No phones.”

“I love you, do you know that?” I told her.

“How could you not?” She flicked her pastel pink hair over her shoulder with a laugh before going to prepare snacks while I got the lounge ready for an evening of lazing around.

:: ::

Halfway through The Greatest Showman, Carrie falls asleep, so after you cover her over with a blanket, you pull your phone out of the box she hid it in and scroll through social media.

         |Hey, @SunsetCurveFansUK did you see this??

Included in the message is a link to the official Sunset Curve account. You click on it and there’s a note from the band. Announcing a UK tour. You begin to hyperventilate as you try and prevent yourself from screaming out loud, but it doesn’t work and you let out a loud squeak, waking Carrie up.

“What’s wrong? Y/N, are you okay?” She sounds worried, so you shove your phone at her, unable to speak. “Oh, wow. This is cool. Start saving because I know you’re gonna want to go to every show.”

“Yes, yes I will.” Getting to your feet, you do a crazy dance around the small lounge of your apartment, making Carrie laugh. You only realise at the last minute that she’s recording you. “Don’t you dare post that online.” You warn her.

“Too late, sweetie. It’s already on my story and I tagged the band.”

“I hate you. Worst friend ever, I think I’ll advertise for a new one.” You grumble, making her laugh as you settle down on the couch to catch up on everything you’ve missed online.

:: ::

When tickets go on sale, you’re disappointed they guys are only doing four dates in the UK, but you buy yourself a ticket to all of them. Sadly, they don’t offer up any VIP tickets because they’re running contests for fans to win them for each show. Their tour manager, Trevor – who also happens to Bobby’s dad – has messaged your account asking if you’d like the opportunity to interview the band as a thank you for all the work you’d put into promoting them.

“Oh my God, Y/N. You’re gonna meet the band, your favourite band.” Carrie is grinning, happy for you as you stare at the message on your phone screen in disbelief. “Are you going to reply?”

“I… er… what is going on?” You stare over at your best friend who’s grinning widely at you. “This is a joke, right? Someone’s pulling the ultimate prank on me, aren’t they?”

“Y/N, look. For over a year, you’ve been pimping out those guys like crazy. You’ve increased their fan base here, which has made them want to tour here, and now they’re offering you this amazing opportunity. Take it and run with it, You deserve it.”

At her words, you reopen the message and reply to Trevor, saying you’d be honoured to do the interview. Then you freak out.

:: ::

The night of the first show and you’re hovering outside the venue waiting for Trevor to come and meet you once the guys finish their sound check. You can faintly hear the strains of Now or Never, and you get goosebumps. Thankful you’re nowhere near where the queue to get in is growing longer and longer, you start to pace outside the door. It suddenly opens outwards, making you jump, and Trevor’s head appears before behind it.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, hi.” You hold out a hand for him to shake, surprising him and yourself with how composed your voice sounds. He shakes your hand and then motions for you to enter the venue.

“Great to meet you. The guys all love your account.”

“That’s amazing to hear.” You make conversation as you follow Trevor through a maze of narrow corridors.

“Are you ready?” He asks as you approach a closed door. You can’t help but hesitate, making him look back at you in worry. “Hey, are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all just a bit… overwhelming.”

“Look, they’re great guys, as normal as they come. There’s no need to feel nervous around them.” He smiles at you and pushes open the door, gesturing for you to enter. “Guys, this is Y/N from the UK fan account. Go easy on her, okay?” Once you’re fully inside the room, Trevor leaves and closes the door behind you.

“Hey,” Reggie speaks first as they all stand up. You shake hands and instantly feel at ease. “We all love your account, it’s very honest.” He’s clearly referring to your review of their last album where you openly said you weren’t a huge fan of a couple of the songs. It was an integrity you were determined to have on the account. You didn’t want to be seen as the type to blow smoke up their asses just because you were a fan.

“Thanks. I love running it. It keeps me busy and out of trouble, apparently.” You laugh as you pull a fold-up tripod out of your bag and set it up to record the guys for your account. “Do you mind if I film the interview?”

“Go ahead.” Alex waves his hand for you to continue. Once you’re set up, you pull out your journal with your questions written in.

“Hey, Luke. That looks like your journal.” Bobby comments, making the lead singer smile. So far, he hasn’t said much and it’s putting you on edge. Especially as he’s the only band member who hasn’t followed your account. Maybe he hates what you’ve done online. Trying to ignore the doubt, you press record on the video and start to ask the questions.

“My final two questions were submitted as part of a contest I put out to my followers. First up from Ellie is ‘if you could give the others a tattoo, what would it be and where?” As you’d hoped, the response to this question is all four of them bursting into laughter as Reggie’s face lights up.

“I pick Luke and would definitely get my face across his back.” You laugh at his enthusiasm. “Maybe if I get him drunk enough, I could at least get my name somewhere.

“Dude, there is no way I will ever have your name, any of your names, tattooed on me.” Luke grinned at them. “I’d probably get Bobby a dick, on his forehead. Just because it would be hilarious.”

You know Bobby is known as a bit of a womaniser and you’ve heard rumblings in the fandom that he’s slept with fans after shows, but you keep quiet as the guys laugh. Bobby picks a rainbow for Alex and Alex picks a cowboy hat for Reggie.

“Okay, the final question is from Sarah and her son Henry. ‘If the zombie apocalypse hit, who would be the first to die.”

“Reggie.” Three out of the four spoke in unison making the bassist pout and you laugh.

“But, we’d try our best to save him.” Alex pipes up, smiling at his friend. “We’d at least try to stick together, but if it’s a choice between me and them, I’m picking me every time.”

“That’s me finished,” you stop the recording. “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to sit with me. I really appreciate it.”

All four guys reassure you it’s been their pleasure and that they enjoyed the interview which pleases you as it took you almost six weeks to think of questions that they hadn’t been asked hundreds of times before.

“I’ll leave you guys to get ready for the show. I need a drink.” You stand after packing everything away and move toward the door to leave.

“Hey, Y/N.” Reggie’s voice calling your name makes you turn back to face them. “We put together a little goodie bag of merch for you as a thank you for all the work you’ve done in helping promote us here in the UK.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that.” You’re blown away and speechless. “I do it because I enjoy it.”

“And it keeps you out of trouble?” Bobby winks at you. Unsure how to react, you smile a little, positive it looks more like a grimace. You take the overflowing bag and clutch it in your hand.

“Hey, we need a selfie.” Alex says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You suddenly find yourself between him and Luke, Alex’s arm slung over your shoulder and Luke’s hand resting on your waist. All you can feel is the head from his hand as you look at the camera Alex is holding out in front of you. Once he’s done, you take a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of Luke before stepping away.

Another round of thank yous and you leave the room and close the door behind you. Then realise you have no idea which way to go.

“Hey, you okay?” Luke’s voice makes you jump.

“Yeah, I just can’t remember the way out.” You’re embarrassed to admit, but you have to meet up with Carrie in the queue. She’d finally agreed to come to at least one of the shows with you, but only one.

“It’s a bit of a maze, here’ I’ll show you the way.” Luke falls into step beside you, his shoulder brushing yours in the narrow space.

“Thanks, you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s no problem, I’m on a drink run for the guys anyway, and the bar’s this way.” He shrugged, his shoulder once again brushing against yours.

“Well, thanks again. And for doing the interview, I hope it wasn’t too much of a chore.”

“Nah, it was fun. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure what it was gonna be like at first, but you had some great questions.”

Silence fell and you start to feel awkward walking through the venue with a guy you’d crushed on from afar for well over a year. Eventually, the maze of corridors opened out into an area you recognised.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later, at the show I mean.” You feel like a complete idiot.

“Yeah, it should be a great show.” You give Luke a small wave and make your way towards the door where a member of the security gets ready to let you out.

“Y/N?” Luke calls out. You turn to look at him. “Do you want a drink?”

Stunned, you kind of freeze to the spot you’re standing in. After a moment, Luke mumbles something and turns to walk away.

“That would be great.” You call out, knowing Carrie would kill you if you said no. You return to Luke’s side and follow him into the space that would soon be filled with fans. The stage was set up with their instruments and you can’t help the shiver of excitement that goes through you.

“Are you cold?” Luke asks.

“No, I just had a chill.” Before you finish speaking, he’s pulled off the flannel shirt he’s wearing and handing it to you. “Honestly, there’s no need. I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N, take the damn shirt. It’s cold in here and you’re in a tank top.” He insists with a laugh.

“God, you’re pushy.” You snap at him playfully as you take the shirt and slide it on. It’s still warm from him wearing it and you resist the urge to bury your nose in it.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Just a beer is fine.” You pull some money out of your purse, but he waves it away as he hands over a card to the bartender.

As you take a sip of cold beer, your phone chirps with Carrie’s ringtone.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” You pull your phone out as Luke asks the bar tender to take three of the bottles to the rest of the band. “Hello?”

“Where are you? The doors are opening soon.” Carrie’s voice is almost drown out by the noise around her.

“I’m just finishing up, I’ll be out soon.”

“Was Luke as dreamy as-”

“I’ll be out as soon as I can. Bye.” You cut her off, worried Luke will hear her question and shove your phone away again. “Sorry, my friend’s in the queue. I really should get out there.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” You go to put your almost full bottle of beer on the bar. “Take that with you. You can’t waste good beer.” You laugh and slide the bottle into the sleeve of Luke’s shirt to hide it from the security staff as the two of you walk over to the door. “Hey, it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” The two of you lock eyes for a few minutes before you remember Carrie. “I… I better go. Break a leg tonight.”

Before he can answer, you’re outside with the door slamming closed behind you. You take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart as you walk around the building to find Carrie.

:: ::

“Where did that come from?” She asks, pointing to the shirt, as soon as you join her. You look around to make sure no one’s listening. You don’t want to be overheard.

“It’s Luke’s.” You whisper, laughing as her eyes widen in shock. Even more when you pull the bottle of beer out from the sleeve and take a long drink from it.

“When we get inside, you are telling me everything. But especially how you came out of an interview with the lead singer’s clothes on.”

Before you can answer, a cheer goes up near the front of the queue as the doors open and security begin letting the fans in.

Slowly, as tickets are checked, the queue moves forward and you’re finally at the front. The security guy recognises you and gives you a smile as he lets you and Carrie inside.

The first stop is the cloakroom so you can check in your bag and the goodie bag the guys gave you after the interview. Then Carrie drags you to the bar and starts pumping you for answers.

“How did the interview go? What took so long? Why did you come out wearing Luke’s shirt and carrying a beer?”

“Woah, slow down.” You order a couple of shots for the two of you from the bartender who served Luke earlier. He waves away your money, explaining you’ve been added to the bar tab the guys have running to your surprise and Carrie’s giggles. “The interview went really well. The guys responded so well to my questions and I took a selfie with them. Oh, shit. The photo’s on Alex’s phone.”

“Oh, really?” Carrie raises an eyebrow at you.

“Do you want me to tell you or not?” You move away from the bar so no one can overhear you. When you’re certain you have some privacy, you fill her in on what happened after the interview ended.

“Holy shit, Y/N/ I think you’re in with a chance there.”

“Carrie, no. He’s a bonafide Rockstar, who lives like thousands of miles away. I’m a student from London. Don’t get carried away. He was just being friendly.”

“Oh, sure. Because all rockstars offer their shirts to fans and buy them a beer.” She looks at you, a weird look in her eye as she orders another round of drinks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Trevor the tour manager walking toward you.

“Hey, Y/N. I was asked to give you this.” He hands you a slip of paper before melting away through the crowd toward the stage.

“What is it?” Carrie askes as you unfold it. Written in the hardest writing you’ve ever had to decipher is,

Meet me backstage after the show? Luke.

You don’t know what to think, but Carrie crows like a damn rooster, attracting attention from other fans around you.

“Just being friendly, huh?” She hip bumps you, “I’m coming with you to the other shows, I need to see this unfold with my very own eyes.

Read Part Two here

[tundra-tiger]

…Okay I am dying to know about the misadventures of your ttrpg character who pulls a Willful Bilbo Baggins vs Classic Bilbo’s “A wizard made me do it.” XD

YOU WANT TO HEAR ABOUT MY SWEET BABY TIEFLING CLERIC ASTRA WHO JUST WANTED TO FIND HIS COUSIN AND HAVE A SMALL ADVENTURE DOING IT BUT NOW HAS TO SAVE THE WORLD???

Astra is my tiefling cleric of Sarenrae, a goddess of light and justice and mercy (from another game system, DM suggested her) who was raised in a small abbey with his cousin Pence since he was about four-- Greenwood Abbey is most all he remembers, being raised by the order there, helping the injured or refuge-seekers who traveled to them, gathering herbs for medicine to bring to town (Yes it is heavily influenced by Redwall, because No One Can Stop Me >:3)

His cousin didn't take to life raised in an Abbey like he did, and would travel far and wide as soon as she was old enough to (possibly sooner). She'd leave for weeks at a time, show back up for a few days, then be off again-- no word where she went, just a quick goodbye and she was gone. The order didn't want to force anyone to join, and they didn't want to make her feel unwelcome, but few of them knew what to make of her in-and-out behavior. They were pretty sure she just came back for Astra, who had thrown his whole self into the studies and practice of the Abbey, training to be a healer

Only one of the times she came back, Pence and Astra had an argument, one of those big messy misunderstandings that would have needed a few days of breathing room and some time examining the other person's actual words with a clear head to clear up. Only Pence left that night, without saying goodbye, a thing she had never done in the fifteen years they'd lived at the Abbey. So, Astra set out to see where she'd gone to, heading to places nearby or that she'd mentioned before, hoping to at least get a clue as to where she'd gone-- and if she was in trouble (and to apologize, if she wasn't)

He got a job to pay passage to a town with an inn name that sounded familiar, delivering some iron with a few other adventures. In town, they ended up learning of a group of goblins gathering under the banner of an evil priest-king, threatening farmers and shepherds in town and stealing sheep. In checking it out, the small group ended up not only taking down a cruel cleric and his growing mercenary band, but learned of the rise of a cult that had once threatened the whole of the land, enslaving and sacrificing any they could get their hands on to amass their power, to unleash even more destructive terror upon any they saw as enemy.

Even then, it's been an entire cascade of "it's only just--" mini-missions, leading into one another. It's only just checking out these goblins who attacked a shepherd. It's only a trip to this old moathouse, to talk to their leader. It's only a trip north to the next town over, to see if similar is happening there-- I wanted to check for Pence there anyway. It's only helping. It's only a few more days. It's only until I find Pence

As far as Astra can tell rn, something has happened with Pence. He was told she came through the northern town, or that someone who looked like him passed through and lived in the same direction as the old cult's temple, and since she's (as far as he knows) his only living blood-relation, who else could it be? But there's no sign of anyone living along the river near the temple, and so many mercenaries within, so many captives, he doesn't know what he dreads more. Finding her there as a sacrifice, or as a hired blade. And now there's a prophecy the team's paladin was given, so even those who originally asked them to go see have entrusted stopping the cult to join and his companions. After all the horrors he's seen inflicted on beings, and the horrors the cult plans, he couldn't leave even if there weren't a prophecy. He couldn't call himself a follower of Sarenrae if he left the world to suffer. If he left Jeffrey and the merchants and Wonillon the thief and the whole room of captives by the ghouls to suffer? Or any others they haven't found yet, as they try to make their way through this terrible temple??

But Astra doesn't know how much longer he can stand all the bloodshed, as they fight their way through undead and mercenaries and hell knights and so many, so many who attack them on sight, but of course they attack on sight, we’re strangers in their private temple, they’re hired to guard it, but they’re trying to torment and slaughter any they can get their hands on and…

He writes letters home to cope. Only the first set of letters has been sent out, since there’s little need for mail-carriers around the town they work out of, so he’s mostly been writing just to get through things. He hasn’t been heard anything from the abbey since he reached this town, nor have they heard anything from him for weeks

[sepublic]

Wing it like Witches!

           Let me tell you- I was WORRIED this episode would make me sad and angsty, but instead it just made me happy and all warm inside! I know that sounds super-corny but like…

           I LOVED this episode! I was worried from the promo pic that Boscha’s bullying would really get to Luz, Gus, and Willow, but… It didn’t! I mean, it still got to WILLOW hence the entire episode, but otherwise Luz and Gus were less “Wow I’m really being reminded of my insecurities from bullying” and more “I can’t believe she ACTUALLY did that. She wasted her entire school day doing that. This girl is NUTS, is she okay back home?”

           (The more I see of Boscha, the more I have to wonder if she IS okay back home… Obviously not crippled with self-loathing to the extent that Amity is, but never mind.)

           What’s really surprise to see though; LILITH IS A RED-HEAD!?!? I remember seeing that first pic of young Eda with two other classmates, one of whom was obscured and the other had glasses; And I thought, is THAT girl Lilith, could it be? Is the girl with the obscured face the one who stole Lilith’s lunch money, potentially that favorite character from Season 2 that Dana alluded to? My mind is racing, but either way young Eda and Lilith are utterly adorable! I do have to wonder if what Lilith had to say about Eda’s bad memory was just a jab, or something more… Given that the show has alluded to Eda possibly having amnesia with MORE than just her curse…!

           Speaking of which; LILITH AND EDA GETTING ALONG! Well, sort of- I mean they’re technically adversarial by the end of this episode, but only technically. Lilith knows where the Owl House is, finally; And we get to see in this episode just how capable Hooty really IS as a security system, surprisingly enough! He even manages to capture LILITH; Though to be fair, she may not have been super-invested in the mission given this was her sister we’re talking about, but still! Coupled with Hooty mercilessly tearing apart those toys in Adventures in the Elements, and I have to wonder if he’s ever, like… KILLED people before, y’know?

           …Maybe I don’t want that answer. Regardless, I love Luz’s little cheeky interference with Eda’s game, but Eda still manages to win by her last trick; Just pure, genuine skill and talent! That was a twist, I was expecting Eda to have another cheat or to be caught by Lilith, but as I said before… Eda isn’t humble, and for a GOOD reason! Lilith ain’t no slouch either, and I love that King willingly donned a cheerleader outfit just to offer support! I mean, maybe Eda MADE him, but otherwise he didn’t seem to have much of an issue so long as it was just at home!

           And… I LOVE the little small moments between Eda and Lilith, where… Lilith KNOWS she has to turn her sister in, she’s getting desperate, but it’s also low-key breaking her heart to do this! And when she loses the match and just… FALLS on her knees in despair, questioning herself, and Eda picking her up? Giving her that signature ring, just to make Lilith look better? I… I LOVE these sisters, why can’t they make up?! Lilith isn’t even aiming to imprison Eda, she just wants her to join the Emperor’s Coven and continue doing stuff alongside her, like old times!

           And Eda… Eda still needs her autonomy, but she knows that Lilith isn’t some cruel person. She knows that Lilith loves her sister and wants the best, that she’s in a terrible position; Eda knows how stifling the Coven System is, and while being beneath Belos provides a lot of power… It also provides a lot of PRESSURE as well! Sure, Lilith chose this… But Eda still believes that Lilith is deserving of kindness and compassion!

           (Let me tell you, considering I don’t think we’ve seen any Eda clips past this episode, I was LEGIT afraid she’d get captured by the end… thank goodness!)

           What’s also fascinating to note is that Emperor Belos was in charge since fiftyyears ago; Given the speculation that Eda isn’t as old as she looks, this indicates Belos is PRETTY old himself, by a large margin; Especially when one considers how long-lived Bump is! It’s a small moment telling us how he established the Coven Heads five decades ago, but I really appreciated it; And in general, this episode seems to be our final, light-hearted breather before we get into the REALLY heavy stuff… Keep in mind, our last two episodes were originally planned to air side-by-side, like a two-part season finale! On a lesser note, we see the Heximal System teacher giving a History lesson, confirming what I suspected earlier; That some subjects include students from all tracks, simply because the subject-matter applies across any and all covens, and History is one of them! Love the small world-building here!

           Given how we don’t see anything else of Willow and Gus past that scene in Belos’ treasury, I have to wonder… What if those two get captured, and only Luz can escape? Amidst King –and possibly Eda- being taken as well, Luz might be looking at a one-man operation here! Which just makes her all the more impressive… Like looking at her now, even if she DOES lose against Lilith; She’d still have been going toe-to-toe with the Head of the Emperor’s Coven, even if only briefly! Luz has come a far way away from where she started as just a powerless human, and has amassed FOUR glyphs; Light, Ice, Plant, and Fire!

           And BOY HOWDY is she good at them! Seriously, I bet she could’ve easily beaten Boscha in a Witch’s Duel if she wanted; Though it’s worth noting that according to Willow, Grudgby is apparently the only language she speaks… Given that shot of her room at the beginning, I have to wonder if that’s where her MAIN self-worth lies in! In the beginning Boscha acknowledges to herself that she’s hated, ‘so long as she is feared’; And her monologue low-key gives me, “Doesn’t know how to make friends so copes by putting herself above everybody else and overinflating her own self-importance under the impression that people are just secretly jealous!” vibes. (In some ways she’s like Grace from Infinity Train…)

That aside, I just get a sensation of pride from seeing how adept and adaptable Luz is, and the way she learned Fire from Boscha of all people –Which I called!- is both hilarious but goes to show what kind of a learner she is… I feel like Eda, like we’ve watched our kid grow and get stronger and I can’t WAIT to see what she pulls off next! Amidst her learning Magic and then defying the Coven System… you go Luz, YOU GO!

           And, it seems I’m not the only person who shares this sentiment! Even after Boscha’s bullying, we don’t see anybody beyond her gang make fun of Luz and co.! When Willow gets trashed poured on her, some students are watching, but… They seem kind of disturbed by it all? They’re not outright vouching on her behalf like Luz, possibly because Boscha is watching; But still! It is SO cathartic to see Willow being beloved by the entire school like that, even if she’s keeping her friend-circle to a select few; People LIKE her, and it’s what she deserves! Like Luz, I’m SO proud…!

           I’m still disappointed we didn’t get the names of Boscha’s other friends, but I really like their inclusion here! I liked how they all seemed rather uncomfortable with seeing Luz forfeit, only to be made Boscha’s target practice; And how Luz is so bright, bubbly, and infectiously-cheerful, spreading her good will to others! Like, this girl is TOO kind, and so loving… She has no bounds and I love how those other girls are even affected by Luz, genuinely enjoying her and wanting to be friends, alongside having Willow as a teammate! I have to wonder if they’ll ditch Boscha after this… Or at the very least, try to talk her down as friends of Boscha that she actually cares about and vice-versa (compared to Amity, who has always been cold towards Boscha, hence why her talking wouldn’t have made a difference)!

           Speaking of Amity… C’mon, girl. Your CRUSH is showing, the way you’re getting flustered, imagining seeing Luz in a ��cute’ uniform and everything… Gus being utterly confused, but you can tell that the gears in Willow’s head are turning and honestly; She’s all for it, likely! I think this is the first time Amity has had an ACTUAL crush on someone she can talk to, instead of some distant figure or a fictional character! It’s so heartwarming seeing her navigate it, getting to actually deal with feelings like a kid is supposed to be allowed to do! And Luz being clueless… That, or she thinks Amity is into WILLOW, which makes a lot of sense too!

           (After all, Luz knows that her parents wouldn’t approve of her being Amity’s girlfriend… But Luz, you have NO idea how much she cares, she literally loves you more than she fears them! And Amity, knowing that her parents wouldn’t approve and struggling with this no doubt, but her love for Luz is really shining through over all of that!)

           To put it simply; Luz is FRIEND-shaped, she’s lovable, there’s no escaping liking her! Maybe Boscha will always be a bully, and I know one might call it ‘cliché’… But honestly I’d love to see Boscha eventually warm up to Luz and HER infectious positivity as well! Also, I saw that twist with the Rusty Smidge coming from a mile away, and I love how Luz low-key gets into a genuine rant over it! Although the loss doesn’t matter, as Luz’s team was clearly more adept and Boscha’s friends don’t seem interested in forcing Luz and her friends to do all of that other stuff…

           Anyhow, I love seeing Amity stand up for her friends, and when she says that her social life has improved because she’s with Luz, in spite of Boscha’s claims… I really CAN see her standing up to her parents, sometime later! I speculated a while back that depending on how her and Luz’s relationship in Enchanting Grom Fright goes, it’d really impact what Amity does later down the line, and I was right! But it IS worth noting that Amity may not yet know that Luz has to leave… King and Eda know, and the former mentioned this in front of Willow and Gus! It’s possible that Luz has laid out her plans to return every summer (and during winter break and whatnot), which would definitely lessen Amity’s angst by an infinite amount! And seeing as how she has instantaneous access to the Demon Realm, who’s to say she can’t pop in every day, after school! Sure she might not be actively living in the Owl House anymore, but otherwise…!

           On another note with Amity, I love her and Luz getting to geek out over The Good Witch Azura, and it’s funny to see the show confirm what I wondered about earlier; About Amity secretly making Azura references in public, under the knowledge that nobody would recognize them and realize she’s a nerd… But LUZ does now, and the two can bond! Also, Amity getting to have fun with Luz and co. at the end, being CARRIED by Luz, fully accepted into the home… I know you also have the library as a safe space Amity, but you’ve also got the Owl House as well! And it seems Hooty bears no grudges, either!

           Also, someone speculated recently that Amity has her goth-sense from Lilith… and given the implication that Lilith dyed her hair, I can REALLY SEE IT! I’m disappointed we didn’t get any interactions between the two… But the way it was set up, I feel like if Eda and Lilith were there they’d be too busy cheering on their kids respectively! Or not, we’ve seen them prioritize their feud in Covention… But back then Luz and Amity weren’t on the same team!

           Back to Amity, it’s interesting that she used to be on the Grudgby team, and was good at it, even being CAPTAIN when Boscha wasn’t; But then explicitly quit when she accidentally hurt some of her ‘friends’ merely once. Even if she never cared for them in the past, even if this was before she met Luz and learned to be kind and open again… She was ALWAYS someone who was self-conscious of her actions! And sure, the issue is that Amity is a LITTLE too self-conscious, constantly berating herself, holding herself accountable for every mistake… But regardless, it says a lot how guilty she feels to have hurt her teammates, even if it was an accident and a one-time incident that resulted in victory!

           I’ll probably do ANOTHER post about it later, but it says a lot; How Amity feels like she should step up as a Blight, and she DOES outshine the others… But because of that inherent guilt but also compassion, she actually quits Grudgby out of guilt! Which leads me to the idea that even if she tolerated Boscha and co., she wouldn’t have wanted to hurt them; Again, because she’s critical of herself, but also because Amity isn’t cruel and it may have reminded her of how she treated Willow! I have to respect and fear for Amity on quitting Grudgby after that…

           Again, I think she has the issue of being too overtly-critical of herself, and that it’s honestly THE issue that defines her problems; But on the other hand, I feel like Amity’s parents would’ve been displeased to see their star child quit the team, just for hurting some ‘lesser’ witches? I’m scared for what may have happened to Amity, but it also says a lot that she made a potentially defiant move simply because she didn’t want to hurt yet another friend…

           (That, or her parents wanted Amity to focus on Abominations and other studies, and coupled with Amity’s guilt, it was the perfect opportunity to get her off the team. Which would be sad, but not surprising.)

           Anyhow, I just think it’s interesting that Boscha and co. don’t ever seem to have any resentment towards Amity until recently. It’s possible Boscha DID dislike Amity up until she stepped down… But it makes me wonder if Boscha, like, looked up to Amity and wanted her approval and attention? Given how she’s always framed as following Amity… Perhaps Amity stepping down led to Boscha taking the spotlight, and so Boscha feels indebted towards Amity for her fame (and potential source of self-worth)?

           Last but DEFINITELY not least; Somebody else (I’m sorry I keep forgetting) alluded to how in Understanding Willow, there was the issue set up of Luz meaning the best for friends… But also sometimes invading their privacy, or overriding what they want, so she can live out her fantasies at the same time! And, like- A big part of her IS doing this for her friends, that much is clear… But Luz does have an issue sometimes with clearing fantasy from reality! It’s a more advanced lesson from the one she learned in Episode 2, continuing off of that, and I LOVE it!

           Like, I really do LOVE how Luz recognizes in this episode that even if a part of her is motivated in helping Willow, she’s also using this as a chance to live out her underdog Azura fantasies, and how Willow points this out to her… and Luz realizes that she’s right! She actively MAKES a change to her behavior, and makes up for it by fixing Willow’s hairclip and even forfeiting on Willow’s behalf and taking all the punishment… All because she doesn’t want her friend to be uncomfortable! Man, Luz is SO ridiculously kind, I keep saying she’s my favorite but she REALLY IS! What a lovable dork, no wonder Boscha and her friends are falling for her!

           (Also RIP Skara, you were the fourth one in a team of three. Although given how she helped carry Luz and Amity in the previous episode, amidst already having more screen time… I can see this as a way for the writers to give more of a spotlight to Boscha’s other friends, while subtly acknowledging that Skara likely has gotten over her bias towards Luz and the others. I wonder if Boscha also noticed and that’s why she was left out; That, or she’s the least-skilled? I dunno, but it was neat to see and I’ll overanalyze the moment regardless!)

           On a lesser note; Willow’s last name is Park, which is a Korean surname! Coupled with her VA’s ethnicity and Willow/Tati Gabrielle being listed amongst other Asian rep characters and VAs, and I think it’s safe to say that she’s the Boiling Isles equivalent to Asian; Which let me tell you, is VERY nice to see!

           Overall, this was an AMAZING episode! It was a heartwarming, feel-good episode that reaffirmed character relationships and love while still expanding on them, adding in more friends to the group… It was pretty much nothing but happy moments and revelations! Obviously things are setting up in the next two episodes to go REALLY crazy, especially with Luz potentially getting banned from Hexside for defying Lilith and Belos… But it’s clear to say that she’s left QUITE the good impression on the administration and students! And I can see some even vibing with Luz’s ideas even after she gets kicked out… Perhaps Luz will unknowingly start a rebellion of sorts?

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Forged Through Fire (9/13)

Summary: Amestris. Once democratic, now a military dictatorship. Prohibition is strict; personal freedoms curtailed. All alchemists must be state-licensed or face imprisonment. Foreigners are met with suspicion. It’s a grim place and a grim time, but there are some people able to bring a little light to the world. Behind an innocent-looking bookshop, speakeasy proprietor Chris Mustang has formed an unlikely alliance with unlicensed alchemist Van Hohenheim to provide alcohol to those who want it and medical care to those who need it. When Riza’s newly complete tattoo becomes infected, Roy brings her into this underworld, little knowing the way it will change their lives in the future – uncovering the secrets of the mythical Philosopher’s Stone and the schemes of a Fuhrer hell-bent on achieving immortality, all whilst navigating what they mean to each other.

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Rated: T

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [AO3]

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Content warning for this chapter: Medical abuse and implied vivisection; panic attacks.

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Forged Through Fire

Nine

The first thing that Hohenheim became aware of when he woke up was that everything was suddenly very bright, because he was staring straight up into a fluorescent ceiling light. 

The second thing that he became aware of was that he couldn’t move. He tried to lift his arms, feeling the bite of metal against his wrists and hearing the clink of chain. His ankles were the same, and panic began to course through his veins as he felt cold steel against his neck as well. 

Even after nearly five hundred years, he still remembered the constant fear hanging over him, the constant threat against his already limited freedom. Every slave in Xerxes knew the terror of chains if they displeased their masters. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

It was the night Xerxes fell all over again, except that time he could definitely breathe because he’d screamed so much he couldn’t speak for a month afterwards.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Ah, you’re awake. I was beginning to think we might have gone too far and lost you there.” A fuzzy face loomed over him, blocking out the searing light, but Hohenheim was already hyperventilating and light-headed, and the only feature he could make out was a flash of gold in the area that was presumably the mouth. 

“You know, I’ve been studying your regenerative capability and it really is remarkable,” the gold-toothed voice continued. “I lost count of the number of times I tried to open you up to get a good look at the inner workings, but you always heal up before I can have a good poke around.”

Hohenheim couldn’t breathe. This was it, after four hundred and fifty years, give or take, he was finally going to die, and he was dying a slave in chains just as he’d been born; humans really didn’t change over time. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe…

“I’ve been wondering what would happen if we cut your head off. Would it just reattach itself or would you grow a new one? And would it have all the same memories as your old one?” There was a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t try it. Not yet, anyway. Bradley wouldn’t be too pleased if I did end up killing the only immortal he’d ever come across by accident in the name of curiosity.”

Hohenheim blacked out. 

Forgive me, Trisha.

X

“Twenty-Three.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Come here.”

Slave Twenty-Three crossed the room cautiously towards his master. He didn’t think he’d done anything that warranted punishment today. He’d been extra careful not to move any of his master’s alchemy materials whilst he’d been cleaning this morning, which was no mean feat considering that his desk amassed more and more papers and jars and equipment every day. 

“Give me your arm.”

Slave Twenty-Three just stared at the scalpel in his master’s hand. 

“Your arm, boy.”

He held out his arm, trying to stop it trembling. His master gave a snort of laughter. 

“There’s no need to be afraid, boy. This isn’t a punishment. In fact, this is a great honour for a slave. You’re assisting me in my research for the King of Xerxes. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. Only a scratch.”

The scalpel nicked his inner elbow sharply, and blood began to ebb out of the blue vein there. His master pressed a small vial against his skin, collecting the drops, and Slave Twenty-Three looked over at all of the similar vials on the shelf. He wondered how many other slaves had had this dubious honour. 

At length, the vial was full, and his master gave him a rag to press against the cut to staunch the bleeding whilst he went back over to his steaming alchemy equipment, dripping Slave Twenty-Three’s blood into one of the bubbling jars. The clear liquid inside turned a bright ruby red colour, and his master smiled. 

“Now, that’s a new development.” He turned back to Slave Twenty-Three. “Your blood type is extremely rare, you know. I believe only a few others in Xerxes would have it. The alchemic potential is potent. Yes, I think that this could be the key.”

Slave Twenty-Three went back to his work, making sure that he was out of sight of his master before he shivered with fear at the implications that might bring. 

X

Hohenheim was vaguely aware of voices above him. 

“It’s slow going because I’m having to keep him sedated and the elixial healing factor means he burns through sedative quicker than a human. Every time he wakes up he starts having a panic attack and I don’t want him bringing the lab down around my ears.”

“Take your time, doctor.” That was Bradley’s voice. “It’s hardly as if he’s going to be missed. By the way, I think he’s waking up again.”

There was a curse and a needle plunged into his neck.

X

Slave Twenty-Three was beginning to wonder if there was actually any blood left in his body. 

On the one hand, he knew that he should probably be grateful for the interest that his master had taken in him. He had been relieved of most of his heavier duties in order to spend more time in the alchemy laboratory, and he was certainly much better fed now than he had been before. He was also learning a great deal of alchemy simply by being around it so much, but he hadn’t mentioned that to anyone, just like he hadn’t mentioned the fact he was beginning to learn to read. 

It was hard going trying to do it in secret, especially when he was around his master so much more these days, but he was getting there. He was desperate to know just what his blood was being used for. He knew that the King of Xerxes was attempting to achieve immortality, but Slave Twenty-Three didn’t know how he could possibly help with that.

He started to fear when his master began to despair. The experiments he was trying were becoming increasingly dangerous, and it appeared that they were not yielding any results. The more he tried, the more blood he took, and the more blood he took, the more Slave Twenty-Three feared that one day he’d take all of it and he’d die without ever having the chance to be a free man and have a family. 

(His master had promised him his freedom in return for his assistance with his commission from the King of Xerxes, but Slave Twenty-Three wasn’t holding out much hope.)

It was when the King himself appeared in the laboratory one day that Slave Twenty-Three began to wonder if perhaps trying to run away was the best idea. It had never really crossed his mind before since slaves so rarely escaped from Xerxes. Even if they made it out of the country without being captured and returned to their masters, there was still the great desert on all sides to cross before they could reach the safety of Xing or Amestris. 

Slave Twenty-Three decided that he was going to have to risk it and was about to inch out of the room when his master saw him.

“Ah, Twenty-Three. Come here.”

He could not disobey his master with the King in the room, so he crossed the floor with his heart in his mouth, bowing low and averting his eyes before the sovereign.

“I have good news, Twenty-Three. Tonight all of my research will pay off, and you will help the King achieve his goal of immortality.”

Slave Twenty-Three was shrewd enough to know that helping the king achieve immortality would definitely come at the expense of his own life.

“Don’t you feel it an honour to be a part of this great process?”

Slave Twenty-Three didn’t feel it was an honour. Slave Twenty-Three just felt sick. 

Slave Twenty-Three bolted and made it all of five steps out of the alchemy laboratory before the royal guards knocked him out. 

X

“I’m having trouble with the alchemical potential. If we could just try and transmute…”

“No. Remember what happened in Xerxes. I’m not having you accidentally killing us.”

Hohenheim kept his eyes closed. The metal was still close around his neck. He tried to ignore it and breathe evenly. 

He felt the soft sparks of alchemy crackle over his fingertips, but he was still so light-headed and lethargic, his brain felt like it was made of cheese. There was nothing doing. The elixir that was his blood was humming actively through his veins, the electric feeling of automatic healing, but this time on a constant loop. 

He was so, so tired.

X

Slave Twenty-Three knew the transmutation circle for what it was as the royal guards dragged him in and tied him down in the centre. 

Human transmutation had always been forbidden in Xerxes, but since the King made the laws and it was the King that this transmutation was being performed for, Slave Twenty-Three didn’t think that his master would be punished for it. 

He didn’t fight against the heavy chains holding him down. What point was there?

“Do you really think that this will work, Master Atticus?”

“Your Majesty, my research shows that this process will use the alchemic potential of Twenty-Three’s blood and transmute it into the elixir of life. Once this is transfused into you, you will have gained immortality.”

“And if the alchemy rebounds?”

“The alchemy will not rebound. There is equivalent exchange – the slave for the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Very well. Proceed, Master Atticus.”

Bright white alchemic lightning flew around the array as his master put his hands to it, and Slave Twenty-Three screamed. 

He didn’t know how long he screamed for, as every fibre of his being was pulled apart and put back together again what felt like a hundred times over.

He could feel the alchemy in his veins as his blood boiled. It was more powerful than anything he’d ever known. 

He kept screaming. Red lightning flashed in front of his eyes. 

That was new. Alchemic lightning was always white or blue. 

He kept screaming.

When Slave Twenty-Three woke up, everything was dark and deathly quiet. He craned his head to try and see what was going on. 

He could see his master slumped at the edge of the circle. He could see the King of Xerxes in his throne, his eyes wide open and glassy, and extremely, undeniably dead. 

He turned as much as the chains and collar would allow to look over at the guards, sprawled on the floor as well. 

Slave Twenty-Three screamed again, feeling the alchemy in his veins rush into life and red lightning sparkling over his skin as the chains melted away to dust.

Equivalent exchange. The slave for the Philosopher’s Stone. The elixir of life. 

Slave Twenty-Three kept screaming. 

X

X

Riza stared up at the ceiling in the dark. She didn’t even know why she’d even gone to bed, she knew that trying to sleep was going to be a completely futile endeavour until she knew for herself what was going on and whether Hohenheim had been found. Even though she knew that she probably wouldn’t get any news until morning, she still felt that she ought to be on hand the moment something happened. Time was of the essence, after all. 

She pulled on her robe over her pyjamas and crept down from her apartment, through the dark shop and into the bar. The lights were down apart from a few of the back lights over the bar rail itself, and Roy was sitting on one of the stools, chin resting on his arms on the polished wood as he stared at the whiskey tumbler in front of him. 

He looked over as he heard her footsteps coming towards him.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Is there any news?”

Roy shook his head. “Nothing yet. Everyone’s still on it. Armstrong and I went to Central Command to see if we could find out where Bradley is at the moment. They would have let him know as soon as they realised Hohenheim isn’t normal, and they would have worked that out pretty quickly; they’re not exactly gentle when they bag someone, and he wouldn’t have any marks to show for it.”

“So where is Bradley?”

“No one knows, but he left Central Command in a hurry on a timescale that fits in with Hohenheim’s arrest.” Roy sighed. “Armstrong’s still there; he’s laying the groundwork for tomorrow.”

“What happens tomorrow?”

“We break into the armoury. There’s no way we’re taking on the secret police without as much firepower as we can get our hands on.”

“You know I’m happy to add my firepower to that.”

Roy shook his head. “Riza, I can’t ask you to get involved with this.”

“Why not? This isn’t just a military thing, Roy. Whatever the Fuhrer’s doing, it’ll affect all of Amestris. It’ll affect me as well as you. And Hohenheim isn’t just your friend. He’s mine too. He’s all of ours. He’s part of this little family that we’ve made for ourselves here. I want to help him just as much as anyone else does. You can’t deny that I can.”

“Well, you were the first person that Chris gave her rifle to earlier, so no, I can’t really deny that.”

“Besides, you’re not asking me to get involved in it. I am saying that I want to get involved in it. I know it’s going to be dangerous, Roy, I’m not stupid. You’re going to need to have someone watching your back though, aren’t you?”

“Honestly, Riza, I don’t think I’d ever be more grateful to have you watching my back.”

Riza perched on the bar stool next to him, putting an arm around him.

“I know you’re blaming yourself. I can tell. This isn’t your fault. This isn’t Hughes’s fault. This isn’t Hohenheim’s fault. Lay the blame at Bradley’s door. This all comes down to him. You can’t keep beating yourself up about things that you have no control over, Roy. Life just doesn’t work like that.”

“I know.” Roy groaned, planting his face into the bar. “I should probably go home. It took a while, but I think that all the adrenaline’s finally wearing off. Part of me just wants to stay here and take a leaf out of Fuery’s book.” He gestured over his shoulder towards one of the booths where Fuery was curled up under a blanket, dead to the world. “Breda dragged him out of the office about twenty minutes ago and threatened to sit on him until he agreed to get some sleep.”

“You know, I have a couch upstairs,” Riza pointed out. “You don’t need to sleep in the bar.”

“Oh.” Roy raised his head an inch or so off the bar and looked at her. “Are you sure?”

In all the time that Riza had been living above the shop and frequenting the bar with Roy, since helping her move in, he had never been up into her apartment before. It was as if that part of her life had always been kept separate and self-contained, and now she was inviting him into it. It felt like a big step to be taking in their relationship, allowing him into her home, and Riza didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if they were going to do anything once they were there; Roy looked like he might pass out before he even got up the two flights of stairs to the couch, but all the same, she was going to be sharing her private domain with him. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Come on up. I’ve got cocoa up there, and no offence to Madam Christmas but I think it’s probably best if she sticks to coffee when it comes to non-alcoholic beverages.”

That raised a smile, and Roy pushed himself away from the bar, sliding gracelessly off his stool and following her up through the shop again. Once they were back in the apartment, Riza busied herself with finding a spare blanket and puffing up the cushions whilst she waited for the milk to warm. Roy just settled on the couch, kicking off his boots. 

“It’s certainly a lot cosier than when I was last in here,” he said, looking around at the living room and kitchenette. “Where did you put the crates of vodka in the end?”

Riza lifted the tablecloth to show that the table was not in fact a table but a plank resting on several crates, and Roy snorted. 

“Nice.”

They fell into silence with their cocoa. It felt like something really ought to be said, but Riza was all out of reassurances and was feeling just as wretched about the whole thing as Roy obviously was. Her thoughts kept coming back to Hohenheim and what might be happening to him now, and what might have happened to him before all those centuries ago. 

Suddenly her first meeting with him fell into a different light. 

“My father’s licensed, but he experiments.”

“On you?”

Of course she hadn’t known that he was coming from a place of personal experience then, but she understood the sympathy in his eyes now. 

He’d done so much good, and he’d helped so many people, turning the strange gift or curse of life that he’d been given to a higher calling, and Riza couldn’t bear to think of what might be happening to him now and of him being experimented on again, turned into a lab rat through circumstances he had no control over. 

She wiped her eyes before Roy could notice her tears and took a sip of her cocoa to cover the action. 

“It’s real now,” Roy muttered suddenly.

“Sorry?”

“It’s real now. It’s really happening. Before, when we were all just sitting around with all these books and papers trying to work out what was going on, it still felt like we were detached from it in a way. We knew that something was going on and we knew that it was bad, but there wasn’t the same sense of urgency that there is now. It had already affected us – Hughes had almost died for the secret, so we knew that they were serious about it. But we’d got Hughes back and he was safe, and maybe that lulled us into a false sense of security. All the talk of the Philosopher’s Stone and Bradley trying to be immortal, it still felt so fantastical and unreal. Now we know that the Philosopher’s Stone exists, and immortality is real and achievable, and suddenly it seems like Bradley might succeed.”

“He won’t,” Riza said, although she could hear the lack of conviction behind her own words. “I’ve spent enough time reading novels in that shop downstairs to know that this is all part of the journey. This is the part where the intrepid hero encounters just one obstacle too many and begins to doubt himself, and then we’ll have a great climactic finale where he saves the world, gets the girl and makes it home in time for dinner.”

Roy looked up from his cocoa mug and smiled. “I think I’m doing the hero’s journey out of order in that case. I’ve already got the girl.”

“Yes. You have.” Riza leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Roy. No matter what happens, you will always have me at your back. Just like I know you’ve always got my back.”

It really was a fitting description, considering that it was her back that had forged the deep bond of trust between them in the first place. Roy knew the secret of her back, and he had kept it faithfully all these years; he truly had her back in all senses of the word. 

“Thank you.”

They finished their cocoa in silence, and Riza dumped the mugs in the sink. She didn’t know that she would be able to get to sleep any better than she had done before, especially not with the knowledge that Roy would be just a few steps away on the couch, but Roy himself looked ready to drop with exhaustion, so she decided it would be best to leave him to get what rest he could, especially if he was on a mission to the armoury in the morning. 

“Good night, Roy.”

“Good night, Riza.”

She closed her bedroom door behind her and leaned back against it, closing her eyes. 

Maybe the next time Roy ended up in her apartment, all of this would have come to a happy conclusion, and he would be coming into this room with her. It certainly wasn’t the first time she had thought about it, but this time she pushed it to the side. It wasn’t the time or place, and as much as she craved the comfort that such intimacy would bring her, they were both too emotional to be sure of no regrets in the morning. 

Soon though. Hopefully soon.

[skateboardtotheheart]

Sticky Note Love

The long-awaited PART THREE of my Nick/Pretty Lacrosse Boy(aka Tyler Doyle) fics! You can read parts one and two HERE on AO3, or search “Slow On The Uptake” and “Varsity Letter Jackets” on my blog!

Thank you so much to everyone who has been enjoying my silly little extremely niche ship of Nick and some random, pretty extra on the show. These two bring me an insane amount of joy and I’m so happy you guys are feeling it too. For some bonus content, check out @zendrella and my Twitter AU, where Tyler and Nick are included!! This fic is being crossposted to AO3, just like the others, so you can read it there if you’d like- click here!

SUMMARY: Nick and Tyler and officially dating, and both of them are convinced they’ve never been happier. Over the first month of their relationship, Nick keeps finding lime green sticky notes- on and in his locker, in his textbooks, even in his house. Each one is signed by his boyfriend, and Nick isn’t sure he’s ever going to stop smiling.

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Neither Nick nor Tyler were sure their first date could have gone any worse.

Tyler had texted Nick about five minutes before he was supposed to pick him up that he'd be late; one of his dogs had puked all over the shoes Tyler had been wearing, so he'd had to clean that up, clean the mess that hadn't made it on his shoes, and then Tyler spent about five minutes rummaging through the closet or a different pair of shoes until he just gave up and took a pair that belonged to Dylan. When he'd finally made it to the Danforth-Evans residence, Nick had come out of the house sparkling. Literally. Arabella had decided to throw an impromptu princess party, it seemed, and had thrown some glitter over Nick as "good luck"- Tyler didn't have as many complaints as Nick over that, though; he looked really pretty. Then there was the poor waitress with a full tray who had gotten tripped by a toddler running away from their parents and had spilled almost half of the tray right onto Nick. Nick, in his surprise at the sudden lap full of salad and cool drink running down his shirt, had bumped the table hard enough to topple some of their food off of it and onto Tyler instead. The entire evening seemed to be one mishap after another. Low gas in Tyler's car, a wrong turn in Hollywood that got them stuck in traffic, Nick having a moment of panic as he realized he'd completely forgotten an important homework assignment due the next day. By all accounts, it was an awful first date. 

But the entire time, they never ran out of things to talk about, kept trading shy but happy smiles, and gently held hands as they waited for traffic to finally move. The night had ended with Tyler walking Nick to his front door, both of them laughing at everything that had gone wrong. It ended with a hug neither of them wanted to let go of because the other was warm, and smelled nice, and holding them comfortably, and it just felt right. It ended with Tyler whispering good night in Nick's ear before pulling away from the hug and pressing a light kiss to Nick's cheek, face tomato red as he promised to text Nick later. It ended with Nick being too impatient for Tyler to text him that as soon as he was up in his room, he was shooting off a good night text to thank Tyler for a nice- albeit disastrous- evening. It ended with a promise that this wasn't the only date for them.

It only took one more date before Tyler kissed his lips instead, leaving both of them a giggling mess as hands rested on cheeks and ran through hair. It took three dates total before Nick called Tyler his boyfriend for the first time. Nick didn't think he'd ever see Tyler smile wider than when he'd heard the word come from Nick's mouth, and the rest of his sentence got derailed as Tyler kissed him instead. The kiss had been more smiles than anything, but it had both their stomachs doing flips and their hearts fluttering heavily but happily. 

It was the day after that the notes started. Nick hadn’t been expecting it, and he’d blushed so hard that first time he was sure that his entire body temperature must have risen. It was the morning after Nick had called Tyler his boyfriend, that they’d made the relationship official, and Nick found the first note stuck to the metal door of his locker. It was a lime green sticky note, the shade Nick knew his boyfriend’s favorite color to be. It stood out against the blue of his locker, and it was bright enough that Nick had been able to spot it from the other end of the hallway. He approached his locker with confusion at the bright green, glancing around to see if anyone else's locker had also been branded with some type of note. When it became evident that it was just his own, Nick frowned a little, finally reaching his locker. His backpack hung off his arm as he reached out, pulling off the folded in half note stuck to the metal. Nick unfolded the little piece of paper, finding himself smiling almost immediately at the black pen scrawled across the lime green. 

I can’t believe I get to call you my boyfriend. I don’t think I’m gonna stop smiling all day. See you at lunch, handsome ♡  -T 

Nick could feel the heat under his skin rising up his neck and onto his cheeks, and he smiled goofily down at the piece of paper in his hand. It made his cheeks hurt, eyes squinted so that it was almost difficult to see. He’d been floating on cloud nine since last night, his steps feeling lighter and a hum following him around the house this morning that had his fathers watching him with raised eyebrows and small, knowing grins. Tyler made Nick’s heart skip beats and his stomach flutter and his head spin. He could honestly say he’d never felt like this before- not when he was dating Carrie, not during that brief stint when he’d had a crush on Julie, never. Tyler was just. . . special. 

Amazing. 

And he was Nick’s boyfriend.

He knew Tyler was just as excited as himself that their relationship was official now, but being able to see it written out in this little note, seeing a little drawn heart and Tyler calling him handsome, was something so comforting and happiness inducing. Nick wasn’t sure how long he stood at his own locker, just reading over the note again and again, but was shocked out of his reverie by the warning bell alarming overhead, letting students know classes started in three minutes. Nick was quick to tuck the note into his pocket, sorting through what he needed and depositing the rest in his locker. He had four classes before lunch, and Nick was sure he’d spent more time staring at the note from Tyler than he did paying any attention to his teachers. 

During their shared music class, Carrie had nudged him, a question in her eyes. Nick had just smiled and shrugged, not quite willing to tell her about the note, but Carrie had glanced down at the paper then taken one look at the lovestruck smile on his face before rolling her eyes fondly. When Nick finally did reach lunch, the only time during school that he and Tyler really saw each other, he found that he’d beaten his boyfriend there. At their usual table were a few others from the lacrosse team, but the seat in which Tyler usually sat was still vacant. Nick, only slightly disappointed by the lack of his boyfriend in the lunchroom, sat down at the empty seat next to Tyler’s, greeting their teammates Cameron, Jack, and Adam as he did so. Just as Nick was pulling out his phone, to check if Tyler had texted him, he felt arms wrap around his shoulders and a chin rest on top of his head. Nick smiled at the feeling, grasping Tyler’s hands in his own and looking up at the awkward angle to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. 

Tyler smiled down at him, looking blushy and almost nervous. Removing his arms from around Nick, Tyler sat on the lunch table bench. Tyler leaned into Nick’s space once more, pressing a feather light kiss to his cheek and whispering, just loud enough for the two of them to hear, “Hey, handsome.”

Nick blushed at the clear reference to the note Tyler had left him this morning, and at the clear display of affection. They hadn’t quite figured out their comfortability with PDA yet, only venturing into holding hands so far, but Nick was filled with warmth at the action, leaning over to bump Tyler’s shoulder with his own. 

“Thanks for the note,” Nick responded as a greeting, to which Tyler ducked his head down and smiled. 

“So you liked it?”

“He’s been staring at it all day,” Jack sold him out with a snort. Nick spun his head around to glare at his teammate, mouthing “traitor” at him. Jack was in three of the classes Nick had gone to this morning, and much like Carrie, had tried to ask what had him so distracted. All the lacrosse boys that they ate lunch with knew the two of them had been going out on dates so when Jack had seen Nick enraptured with a little sticky note, had jokingly asked if he’d received a love letter from Tyler. Apparently Nick’s blush had been enough of an answer because Jack had let out a surprised laugh at his correct guess, then turned back to his work. Tyler, however, looked pleased at Jack’s words, flashing a smile of thanks to their teammate before looking back to Nick. 

“Good to know,” he said softly, bumping Nick’s knee under the table. 

---------

The notes stuck both to and slipped inside his locker continued. Nick found them in the morning before classes, during the day, and after school before lacrosse practice. They weren’t there every day, but over the past three weeks, Nick had amassed a pretty good collection of lime green sticky notes, black ink across them. Some were sappy and cute, like that first one had been.

I “borrowed” Dylan’s year pass to the mini golf place. You, me, a few windmills- what do you say?? I’ll pick you up at 6 ♡  -T

My mom asked “how’s your boyfriend doing” last night and holy crap I love hearing that word  -T

I can’t believe I let you wear my letter jacket today YOU LOOK SO CUTE AND IT’S HARD TO FOCUS  -T

Some were more simple, just little messages that Tyler thought would make Nick smile when he saw them.

Good luck on your test today!!  -T

Say hi to Arabella for me when you get home :)  -T

Just so you know- I parked in the east lot today instead of the west. See you after school!  -T

Each one had Nick feeling on top of the word, smiling at them and then carefully placing them in a folder to take home with him later. At lunch or after school, Nick would plant a kiss on Tyler’s cheek in silent thanks for the notes. 

Today Nick and Tyler were at the Danforth-Evans house after school, hanging out to study, maybe watch a movie. They’d awkwardly passed by Nick’s parents lounging on the couch together, Nick practically dying in embarrassment as his father had called after them that the bedroom door had to stay open. Tyler had the nerve to laugh at his boyfriend’s flushed cheeks and groan of annoyance, earning him a light slap against the arm as they made their way to Nick’s bedroom.

Tyler had never been in here before, and a smile graced his features as he stepped inside. Nick gave him silent permission to wander around the room, looking at whatever he wanted, while Nick moved to sit on the pale green comforter of his bed. He watched as Tyler admired the three guitars sitting in the corner of his room- the bubblegum pink electric sitting proudly in the front- and smiled at the lacrosse stick pinned above the closet door. 

"Are these. . ." Tyler began asking, fascinated by something on Nick's dresser. "Are these my sunglasses?"

At the finished question, Nick felt heat rise up his neck. Tyler turned around to face him, holding up a pair of blue glasses with black tinted lenses. It was the pair Tyler had loaned him after Nick had gotten a concussion and the sunlight was too bright for his headache. Tyler must have taken Nick's silence as answer enough, because he let out a laugh as he looked down to the sunglasses in his hand. 

"I didn't even realize you'd kept them," Tyler's voice was quiet, pitched slightly higher. Nick thought he could see a smile on his boyfriend's lips. 

"Y-yeah, well, they, um. They reminded me of you, so, yeah," Nick rambled out, not quite looking at Tyler. Tyler looked up at him, an almost glassy look in his eyes. 

"Sorry, is that- is that weird to tell you?" Nick asked, cringing a little as Tyler turned around to set the sunglasses back in their place on his dresser. He heard Tyler laugh quietly as he turned back around, taking the few steps over to the bed to stand in front of where Nick stood. 

"No, it's not weird," Tyler picked up one of Nick's hands, twining their fingers together. Nick gave a small tug, signalling Tyler to sit down next to him. "I think it's kinda cute. I mean, you really kept them because it made you think of me?"

Tyler was blushing too now, a layer of awe in his voice like he couldn't believe anyone would ever do something like that. It made Nick think that maybe Tyler had no idea he’d been keeping those lime green slips of paper, either. Nick squeezed Tyler's hand, bumping their shoulders together. 

"Well, it's not everyday the cutest guy you've ever seen drives you to urgent care. Gotta remember the occasion somehow," Nick's voice had teasing laced through it, but he knew the sincerity shown through by the way Tyler smiled brightly down at their joint hands. 

"Plus," Nick continued, "don't know if you heard, but even before you were my boyfriend- I was kind of embarrassingly into you." 

Nick wasn't sure Tyler ever looked prettier than when he was smiling, shades of pink on his cheeks. Nick could write a set of notes as big as the ones he’d received from Tyler dedicated solely to how pretty his boyfriend was. 

"Don't tell your boyfriend I told you this," Tyler started, "but he'd been trying to get the courage to ask you out for a year before you beat him to it." 

Tyler sounded shy and quiet, keeping his eyes trained on their joint hands. Nick stared at him with surprise, his mouth opened slightly. 

"You never told me that."

 A year? Tyler had liked him for a year before they started dating? It filled Nick with warmth along with the surprise. 

"Just want you to know that being embarrassingly into each other goes both ways."

When Tyler finally looked at him, with the blush still on his cheeks and a shy look in his eyes, Nick couldn't stop himself from leaning forward to kiss him. He kept it short, aware of the wide open door, but didn't resist when Tyler put a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him back for another, slightly longer kiss. When they pulled back, smiling to each other, Nick scooted closer to Tyler on the bed, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. 

"Since I guess we're doing romantic confessions today. . ." Nick started, making Tyler laugh, "I don't think I'm ever gonna get tired of kissing you."

Tyler let out a high pitched whine, almost like a squeak, tensing as he covered his face with his free hand. 

"Damn it, Nick, you can't just say stuff like that!"

Nick picked his head off Tyler's shoulder, laughing at his blushing boyfriend's expense. 

"I thought I'd stop constantly blushing around you now that we're dating, but it's your goal to prove me wrong, isn't it?"

"T, all you need to do is look at me to make me blush. Pretty sure we're on even playing ground."

He could see Tyler smiling from below the hand still covering his face. Nick peeled the hand away, holding that one in his own as well. He retook his position with his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, smiling as he felt Tyler press a kiss into his hair. They didn’t end up getting much studying done or a movie watched in the end. They were mindful of the open door, though, so they fell back onto the bed, laying next to each other and talking, laughing, trading soft kisses back and forth. At one point, Nick got up to use the bathroom, and he came back to Tyler now on the floor, Arabella in his lap with her sparkly purple tutu splayed over his thighs. Tyler had his arms around her middle, speaking lowly to her, giggles filling the room as she nodded along with whatever Nick’s boyfriend had told his little sister. The two of them together was an unfairly adorable sight, Nick decided, and his heart skipped a beat when they both spotted him, matching grins blinding him. 

Arabella stayed with them the rest of the time Tyler was over, running between her own room and Nick’s to introduce Tyler to all her favorite toys and bestow her favorite princess crown on Nick’s head. It wasn’t until after Tyler left that evening, having gone home for a family dinner, that Nick found the first note that wasn’t left in his locker. He was grabbing a pair of shorts from his dresser when a familiar lime green caught his eye, stuck to the sunglasses.  

I’m never gonna get sick of kissing you either See you in the morning, dork :P  -T

PS- tell Ari she’s my fav Danforth-Evans 

Nick let out a laugh at the post-script, shaking his head fondly as he moved to grab the old shoebox from under his bed, placing the paper gently in the box along with the rest of the notes. He tucked it closed once more, putting it back in position and heading downstairs to his family. 

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As it turned out, the note in his bedroom wasn’t a one time occurrence. When Nick had woken up in the morning, the mirror on the inner door of his closet read out to him: 

HOT DAMN- looking good, Danforth-Evans  -T

It made Nick laugh to see it, knowing Tyler must have placed it there when Nick had excused himself from the room to use the bathroom last night. The notes he found in other various places around the house for the next few days, however, were a little more confusing. 

There were a few more in his room- on his guitar, taped to his headboard, one stuck to his window claiming “no view is better than you xoxo”, and other places he should have noticed them way earlier- one stuck to the coffee pot the next morning claiming that Tyler would be waiting at the school with a latte from that coffee shop Nick loved, one next to his toothbrush in the bathroom. Nick didn’t say anything about the notes magically appearing in his house, but three days in, he rolled his eyes fondly at the lime green paper stuck on the inside of his favorite book, and texted his boyfriend. 

Okay I’ll bite

Which one of my family did you bribe to help you with this

i’m sorry i have no idea what you’re talking about

i absolutely did not collude with your sister about leaving you notes and you should be ashamed for even accusing me of that 

Nick couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him at his boyfriend’s text, a warmth filling his chest at the idea of Tyler and Arabella interacting. He remembered the conspiratorial smirks on his boyfriend and sister’s faces when he’d come back from the bathroom the other day.

So if I go talk to Ari right now she’ll have no clue what I’m talking about? 

bold of you to assume she would ever give me up nick danforth-evans i’m totally her favorite now

Carrie is and always will be her favorite but I’m loving the enthusiasm

Sure enough, though, when Nick knocked on his little sister’s door- interrupting a tea party with her stuffed animals and a number of Nick’s old Hot Wheels toys- asking her about the appearance of the lime green notes, she just burst into giggles. Not an actual word to say that it was Tyler, just gave him a cheeky smile and told him to close his eyes. Nick rolled his eyes, but agreed, and opened them again when he felt an adhesive on his forehead and the tickling of paper on his nose. He stuck his tongue out at Arabella for sticking the note on his forehead, which set her off giggling once again, and pulled it off. 

Told Ari to give you this one when you inevitably figure it out. She’s surprisingly sneaky for a 7yo. Give her a hug for me as thanks for helping?? Hope you enjoyed our little conspiracy ♡  -T 

Nick hugged Arabella tightly, placing the note gently in his pocket until he could put it with the rest. He joined his sister in her tea party, a wide smile on his face he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get rid of if he tried. It was such a silly, little thing for Tyler to be doing over the past month, but Nick loved it. He loved the smile it brought to his own face, and the thoughtfulness from Tyler, and the extra layer of joy surrounding their relationship through the notes. Overtime, the notes never really stopped. They lessened- only to be saved for special occasions or a day when Tyler was feeling particularly sappy- but as always, each one brought a smile to Nick’s face and found a home in his neatly kept shoebox under the bed. They were something to pull out and reread when Nick was having a bad day, when he was feeling sentimental, or for that time Tyler was bed-ridden with the flu for a week and damn, Nick really missed him. And if shortly after they started dating, Nick found that his own favorite color was also becoming lime green, that was no one’s business but his own.  

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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this, and that it rotted your teeth like it did mine. I have the tag list below but let me know if you’d like to be added!

tag list: @zendrella @blackholeunderyourbed @sunsetcurve123 @williexmercer @idontknowimbadatthis 

[keyofjetwolf]

Bonus Question Answers! (anime heat 2)

I asked a silly question! You gave me incredible answers. SO VERY MANY INCREDIBLE ANSWERS. Now, I present my favourites! And really, they were ALL favourites. Mmm, headcanony goodness.

Oh, special shoutout to this unattributed one, which I suspect fell prey to someone submitting early, but as phrased, made me snort laugh: “one of my longest held headcanons is that ami“

SAME, FRIEND

Anyway, If your answer is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

—

Q: Senshi headcanon time! Intrigue me, humour me, crush me, FEED ME.

* Michiru actually did have a guardian cat, once. It was silvery grey with dark blue eyes. It did not speak, but it was always there to provide support and comfort in a life which had little of either. The first time Michiru had a strong vision, which left her cold and senseless on the floor of her room, it was the small warmth from her cat that brought her back to the world of color and light and solidity. The cat was a friend and confidante in those early days, when Michiru was unsure if this experience was real or the beginnings of schizophrenia. The fact that her mother could see the cat, and regularly make comments about the uncleanliness of such creatures, was proof of Michiru's new reality. So when the cat entered the fray to distract a youma, saving Michiru, but being killed in the process, it became one more thing that the Moon had given her, only to steal away. Michiru promised herself to never rely on another again, or to allow the Moon to have her heart again. And she had done fairly well at this. Haruka, for all her charms, was a plaything, and not something to sacrifice herself for. But pausing outside the Marine Cathedral, Michiru found herself looking into dark blue eyes, so different, but so similar, and knew that she would do anything and everything in her power to keep from having to watch them close, again. -- @incorrecttact  [YOU ARE ALSO KILLING THESE QUESTIONS. This hit me right in the kokoro, and I welcomed its sweet sweet pain.]

~~

*  Mako teaches Hotaru, Chibiusa, and the Amazon Quartet to cook and bake as a bonding activity. Hotaru LOVES making cakes and decorating them. Chibiusa likes cooking with noodles and even making her own; it doesn’t sound special, but the food she makes is DELICIOUS. Ves, the red one, finds cooking easy, but doesn’t like it and so never does outside of being coaxed into it. Jun, the green one, finds baking easy, but also doesn’t like sweet things, which limits her repertoire. Cere, the pink one, has no natural talent, but she very much WANTS to be good at it, so she turns out to be the best cook of her Senshi group. Palla takes to neither, but she is very enthusiastic about eating their experiments.  --  Jules  [I am an absolute slut for Mako and moments with the kids, and including the Quartet was a brilliant stroke.]

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*  A Serenity is not supposed to be reborn. They are born, they live, they die, and they are done. They are not like the Senshi, whose souls reincarnate, carefully bound to Serenity blood. They are not supposed to be reborn, so when Queen Serenity sees everything fail and decides to send their souls to the future, the Senshi are easy. Serenity is not. In desperation, Serenity does something she would have never considered in any other circumstance: she ties Serenity's soul to the Senshi. What was once a one way tie, has now become an equal bond, and so everything changes.  -- @madegeeky  [Ooo, this is some lovely twists on my own reincarnation headcanons, while still keeping the “this is a mistake” flavour. IT TASTES GOOD.]

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*  How about more Rei whistle antics? You headcanon Usagi would use the whistle for every mundane thing and Rei would come. Usagi would do this at 2 AM in the morning too and Rei would still be woken up and still come even in pajamas if she need be because Usagi had a spooky nightmare or "Rei-chan I fell off my bed and now my face hurts". Knowing Rei whistle antics can be funny for us and maybe aggravating for Rei at times because "Usagi you blew the whistle because you fell off the bed?" what if we can make it a pinch sad? Like what if Rei can tell what sort of peril Usagi is in by the way she blows the whistle in tone? Like when it's a sad somewhat weaker whistle, even if it's just a tiny subtle tone, Rei can IMMEDIATELLY tell "USAGI IS SAD AND NEEDS ME" and she will RUSH over in 5 seconds like in her Rei way, she might even have the mind to bring snacks, cocoa and plush to hug for the comfort.  --  Mrs. Duckling  [HOW ABOUT INDEED. I hadn’t thought about the different ways the whistle can be blown and what it might say, what a wonderful addition. THANK YOU FOR CATERING DIRECTLY TO ME AND MY NEEDS]

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*  PGSM!Sailor Mars - [REDACTED] Oh. Right. You're not there yet. Awkward... Anime!Minako is a huge fan of romance manga, but for all the wrong reasons. She tried drawing doujinshi of crack ships before realizing that A) she's not really a writer and B) she's REALLY not an artist. She plans on using some of her rich idol singer money to commission really bizarre romance stories. The sort that make you go WTF?! Of course, step one is "become a rich and famous idol"... Meanwhile, Rei also buys the romance manga that Minako gets into, (partially so she'll shut up about it) but mainly just analyzes them for mood and the characters, and gets frustrated when they inevitably devolve into nothing but sappy kissing and mooning over each other. She's trying to see why Minako gets so obsessed, but doesn't want to flat out admit that she doesn't get it and have to ask. -- Peter "Pigeons!" Svensson  [I had nothing but fun with this, fantastic. ps: THANK YOU FOR THE PIGEONS NOMINATION]

~~

* If these four* Senshi were to meet you, I think they'd each also be meeting some of their best qualities: Usagi is love, and that love is infectious as HELL. Much like a certain blogger who has amassed an international following on the strength of her love for her favourite media, wouldn't you say? Ami is very impressed by your office set-up! But when she sees you re-enter the room with a sprightly little black cat riding on your shoulder, she knows she has discovered a kindred spirit. Where can Rei-chan possibly begin? From your passionately informed and encyclopedic knowledge of their interactions ("She has RECEIPTS, Usagi!"), to your, let's call it tenacity ("She stirred that sugar for TWO HOURS, Usagi!!"), Rei finds so much to admire. And while no one could ever possibly love Rei as much as she loves herself, she magnanimously allows that you are a close second. As for Haruka, well! World Shaking? More like Toilet Breaking! You wrecked that shit and unleashed the sea. She can certainly relate *eyebrows, eyebrows* *would that i had time to write out blurbs for the others! but we're heading back into lockdown today, and i need to get to the post office to mail you a package. PRIORITIES! xo  -- @rasiqra-revulva​  [Okay look when I said “crush me” I didn’t mean WITH NICENESS. Also thank you for the huge laughs. *eyebrows, eyebrows*]

~~

*  Minako manages to write a tell-all book (anonymously, of course, and with names changed to protect the relevant,) about their first few years as Senshi in the lull between Stars and Shit Escalating Again. Even more astoundingly, she manages to get it optioned as a film and play Sailor Mars without blowing her cover! Rei seethes. Minako’s annoyed because she tried out for Usagi. Usagi’s just happy Minako’s successful. The film manages to pick up nominations come award season, and Michiru even arranges for the rest of the Senshi to attend. Minako loses to some film from a really overrated director that manages to out-award bait her reenactment of D-Point. She’s silently fuming through his acceptance speech when he’s Burning Mandala’d mid-sentence. And that’s how the Senshi discovered that Jadeite survived getting run over with planes, joined the entertainment industry after Beryl’s defeat, and had been using it to drain energy ever since! Sailor Mars’s speech about how he disgraces the passion of filmmakers everywhere and her comrade’s hard work goes viral. -- Regalli  [LOVED THE TWIST ENDING, also Rei basically stealing the awards show stage, as we all know she would]

~~

*  Not Senshi, but cats! One day, when Usagi is queen, she's going to decide to knight the cats. Luna thinks it's silly and figures Usagi is just acting on a whim, but Artemis has his chest puffed out and is glowing with pride. They're given tiny medals made by Endymion. -- RibbonFinale  [Oh I DID want this. I wanted this very much, THANK YOU.]

~~

*  Makoto can't culture bonsai trees. It's not a matter of ability, or scale — she can work with tiny tools with equal facility as large ones — but she can't bring herself to push the things down, to cut and twist and bind them to grow the way _she_ wants, not the way it wants to grow.   The tiny pine she bought to try it out, years ago, is in a pot in the corner of her apartment; it's just now grown taller than she is. -- Taperwolf  [I didn’t expect this one to hit me as hard as it did when I started reading. Love it, love it, love it.]

~~

*  You know those 'meetings Usagi doesn't know about'? the ones where the girls dive into the nitty gritty about being senshi, the ones where they decide who will take up being the Disguise Pen Decoy if Minako is killed? Usagi knows about them. it was one of those 'character A eavesdrops and hears character B talking about them' setups, but instead of hearing Ami call Usagi a ditz, she hears Ami saying 'I'm the weakest fighter, if Minako is assassinated and we need someone to be decoy it'd be easier to explain away my absence than Rei's or Mako's' In these meetings they speak very coldly about themselves, Ami is always first to call herself the weak one, Minako calls into attention her showboating, Mako will openly remind people she doesn't think things through on the battlefield, and Rei derides herself on her inability to keep her cool (heh) and they all come up with contingencies to cover for eachother to the minutest detail. Usagi only ever evesdrops on one of these meetings, but now she knows they happen. and she can't un-know.  -- Vega  [OOOOOOOOOOOOOO.]

~~

Manga Sailor Pluto has picked her nose 2,013,417 times. -- too ashamed to say  [WHY THE SHAME THIS IS CORRECT  AND NOW RIGHTFULLY CANON]

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I’ll be drawing for the bonus liveblog around the start of THE GIFTENING 2020 (currently looking to be Monday, 11 January 2021). Each bonus question is another chance to earn an entry! I CAN ABSOLUTELY AND SHAMELESSLY BE BOUGHT.