#not my fault i’m a horrid and disgusting person and it shows

[deargravity]

everyone’s yumeships are so cute and lovely and fun but i get so nervous when i’m asked about mine because you really don’t want to know you’re better off swimming in a radioactive lake this toxic yuri slop can kill a war veteran it’ll be like carbon monoxide poisoning if i ever let all this lore loose in the open

[cloudninetonine]

A past that still haunts me

A/N: Hey guys, it's me (ya boi) I'm back with my still current hyper fixation Genshin Impact and a vent fic because I've been really stressed and well, it's hard living in my house :) It's a hurt/comfort fic because they always get to me and I needed to make something for myself

I am willing to do aftermath where the boys confront the abuser or do scenario but with different characters

Synopsis: You’re not a damsel in distress, you never have been and you never will be, but, well, sometimes you need a hero to rely on and that’s okay

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli and Childe

Warnings: Hints to past abuse, confrontation of abuser, violence, mentions of blood, threats, foul language

It had meant to be like any other menial day of an adventurer: sign in with Katheryne, complete your commissions, sign out with Katheryne with your payments - done and dusted.

But that wasn’t how it went, no, far from it - archons, so damn far from it.

“Thank you once again, (Name)” Katheryne’s smile was kind like usual, holding that familiar feeling of gratitude as she handed over your remission within a marked package, hand returning to the desk’s polished surface once you had taken it graciously, sending her a beaming grin back. “The Guild really appreciates your work ethic when it comes to the Ruin machines, it’s hard to come across adventurers who want to handle them anymore”

You sent her a shrug as you placed away the box “Can’t blame them really, they’re a hard bunch to handle- I was terrified of them when I first started too, but I had my vision to help me out, a lot of these folk only use there pure determination to eradicate them, gotta admire that!”

She laughed along with you politely “Have a good evening, (Name), I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Of course you will!” You backpedalled away from the guild reception, throwing the woman a polite double fingered salute as you did “Ad astra abyssoque as they say, my fair lady!”

She parrotted back her usual phrase before disappearing into the building, you walking further down the path of the city for your final activity for that day.

Of course, you didn’t reach that far, after all, it wasn’t that menial day you had expected, that you had wanted. Life was cruel sometimes, so incredibly cruel for no justified reason just for the sake of it all and you wished, archons, you wished you could rewind the clock and stop yourself from bumping into the body, to save yourself from all the repressed trauma bursting forth like a flurry of butterflies, well, more like moths, disgusting, ungodly, monster moths that aimed straight for the face.

“Sorry!” You yelped, too preoccupied with gathering your pocketwatch you had dropped in the stumble to see who it had been, after all, you were on a schedule and you didn’t want to be-

“(Name)?”

...late.

All of a sudden, time didn’t seem to exist, or maybe it was moving way too slowly from that horrid spike of adrenaline that shot into your bloodstream as soon as the voice registered.

You hoped to the Archons that it wasn’t, that it couldn’t, but did the gods hear your prayers?

“Oh Archons, it is you! It’s been such a long time!”

Of course, they did, they just didn’t care to listen. Ignoring the cries of your people were in fashion to them these days.

They stood there with a smile so excited it almost seemed to tear their face in half, with eyes sparkling with recognition after so many years away from them, they opened their arms welcoming you into their embrace like it was something just so normal for the two of you like you would come bounding to them like a lost puppy who had finally found their master.

The fear of your abuser dwarfed in comparison the pure feral rage and loathing to think that they even deserved to be breathing in the same space as you.

People were looking, of course, they were looking, you knew what they were doing, being bright and jovial, bringing others attention towards you both so that whatever scene you caused would be your fault like you were the bad guy. It was old tactics, of course, you wouldn’t dare do anything when you were younger, you’d just push through it, but this wasn’t old times, this wasn’t younger you, scared, smaller you afraid them, this was you now, a warrior, unwavering in battle, a person who smiled in the face of danger, who laughed at the pitiful fights that 2- no- 4 abyss mages brought to you!

To hell what other people thought, you’d stomp their head into the cobblestone if they had so much as poked you.

“Come here and give me a-”

You took a step back, mustering the deadliest face you could, but you wavered, it was only natural, no matter how much you could try to hype yourself up, this person was your first true experience of real-life nightmares, the first person to bring you true pain, no matter how many ruin guards, hunters, millachurls, mages- anything you faced, nothing could prepare you to face your first fear:

The fear of your older sibling.

“If you fucking touch me I’ll stab you-” The growl cracked nearing the end, you were always an angry crier but you were not about to fall back to this- this monster. “In front of all these people, I won’t hesitate”

Their face dropped followed by your stomach, though, the food you had for lunch sure did feel its way up your gullet.

“What’s with your language? We haven’t seen each other in four years and this is how you treat me? Your older sibling?” They laughed in disbelief because onlookers would think they were shocked, I mean, how could you speak to family like that? But they didn’t know, they didn’t know the words they had told you, the insults, the threats, those tight grabs, those beatings- they didn’t know, so they obviously didn’t know that the shock came from the fact that you had stood up to them.

You licked your lips to get rid of the dryness, but the problem you faced was that your mouth had dried out along with them, as did your throat.

Don’t let them turn this on you, don’t let them get the upper hand, you were better than them, so much better.

“You’re not my fucking sibling” You spat, feeling the air vibrate around you, a sudden shine from your cloak hinted you to the cause “You haven’t been for a long time, don’t fucking try that shit with me”

There it was, that familiar enraged spark, that look of hatred on their face, the thing that warned you about what you said had been the right thing to set them off, that they were just as easily triggered by the smallest act of rebellion just like when you were kids.

Of course, they hadn’t changed.

Evil never did.

They took a step forward but you didn’t back off, just hardened your resolve as they leaned in menacingly, as though their stupid little intimidation tactic still worked after all these years.

You told yourself it didn’t but you knew deep down that wasn’t completely true.

“Don’t speak to me like that, (Name)” Facade gone, they showed you what they really were, what they were really like after all, “Don’t you ever speak to me like that, you show me fucking respect”

Respect?

RESPECT!?

Oh Archons, you were angry, no, seething from the thought that they ever deserved respect.

That pathetic piece of shit, that gruelling pleb, mere gum on the bottom of your damn shoe-

You’d kill them, right here, right now.

You felt the familiar materialisation begin to form in your hand when another voice called out, a familiar loving one that nearly made your throat swell from relief.

“(Name)?”

Diluc

He could sense the tension. Of course, he could sense the tension, Diluc had faced this tension so many times before, he was practically the one that owned such a vibe anytime Kaeya even breathed near him for a second longer than necessary.

But being the one to witness it, to see you, the usual awkward, goofy sweetheart stare at another with such overbearing malice made him uneasy, caused his stomach to churn in ways he didn’t like, set him off in a way that was only reserved for the most chilling on moments.

Diluc wondered what exactly this stranger had done to warrant such a reaction from you.

“(Name)?” The redhead called, glancing around the many citizens of Mondstadt that watched the exchange with intrigue, guard and worry, eyes focused on the scene of this foreign stranger and fuming you, hand poised by your side with weapon particles dancing on your palm.

When Diluc finally made it over, his form seemed to curl protectively around you, hand landing on the small of your back delicately while keeping face with the person, eyes narrowed dangerously but still holding an air of civilness.

A true gentleman, even when you were close to merking some rando.

“Is there a problem?”

The stranger straightened immediately, backing up a few steps with their hands up in defence, sending Diluc a charming smile that the man could see through crystal clear.

“No problem, no problem at all” They glanced back at you, seemingly friendly despite his partner’s obvious ill intent that radiated off you in waves “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

Diluc saw you tense up once again, the buzz from your Vision rising in volume with your obvious anger as you tightened your first, ready to just screw your weapon and go for the throat.

“If that is the case” The noble’s hand softly pressed against your back, gently but coaxing, knowing that conflict in the middle of the town centre would just bring the knights to meddle in affairs that they had no business attending “Then we shall be going”

“There’s no need to leave, after all, my sibling and I were just chatting”

He paused, shouldering a questioning glance your way but at the sight of your unruly expression, he pushed down his enquiries and once again began coaxing you away from the scene. Angel’s Share had already been open for a while, meaning the usual folk would already be settled in, but the storage room was sure to be a good place to chat and to calm you down, all he needed to do was get you away.

“We already had plans” The side glance had the stranger- your sibling, biting their tongue, brows furrowing in a known annoyance as the two of you began your way towards the pub, you still vibrating in anger. “Good day to you”

The two of you had made it a few feet when they called out once again “Don’t worry, (Name), I’ll see you again real soon”

Diluc’s arm tightened around you faster than you could react, tugging you away quickly “Diluc-”

“No, (Name)”

“Stay out-”

“Not here” Sharing a look, he softened at the shine in your eyes. “You’ll just attract the knights' attention”

You didn’t care, no, not one bit. If the knights had dared to interfere at that moment, they too would have been caught up in your blinded revenge, thrown aside or slashed down without single care just to finally eradicate the bane of your existence and you didn’t care about what consequences you brought about, you just didn’t and you made sure to tell Diluc that, as soon as you had the privacy of Angel’s Share’s storeroom, pacing up and down while he stood off to the side against the wall, watching silently.

“You had no right to get in my way!” You snapped, voice shaking from the pure emotions you were releasing “I finally had my chance, I was finally going to do it! They deserve to end by my hand, by my decision, after the years of torture they put me through! They deserved it! And you got in my way! How could you get in my way! I-”

Pushing off the wall, he slowly advanced towards you, carefully, hands out like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“I understand you’re upset-”

“I’m not upset!” You cried at him, stopping mid-step before dropping your head and tightly, grabbing your hair in your hands “I’m not upset! I’m angry! I’m so fucking angry! And I deserve to be fucking angry! I-”

The sob ripped through your throat despite you trying to hold it back, tears finally gathering in your eyes and rapidly falling down your cheeks “You should have let me kill them! I should have had the chance to rid the world of their evil! It’s not fair! It’s not- it’s not fair, I-”

You didn’t bother to fight him when his arms finally wrapped around you, just fell against him as you wept. The pent up rage, fear and sadness from years of repression taking its toll as you cried, your partner whispering sweet words as he raked his hand through your hair gently and leaned his head against yours.

“I’m sorry” His hand held your cheek fondly, ruby red staring back into your own eyes with a softness that made you melt “I didn’t know this meant so much to you, but if you’re willing to tell me, I’ll listen. I’ll always listen”

With another choked sob, you leaned into his hold “Please just hold me for now”

And he did just that.

Kaeya

The captain had promised to meet you at his office, a simple task really but with the lingering presence of Jean and the words ‘There’s so much work that needs to be done’ leaving her lips he bolted, hoping to catch you by the Guild and drag you to Angel Share for your date. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was just he had already promised you this night and Eula could have always taken his place with paperwork, her threat of “vengeance” as she liked to call it could wait for another day.

It was also due to the fact he had no intentions of filing any paperwork for as long as he could avoid it, but that was his secret to be kept.

Being the perspective man he was, he could tell straight away he had walked into something tense, surveying the surrounding people of Mondstadt who looked on in concern, the unbridled rage upon your face, the obviously intimidating lean that the stranger held over you- something was wrong and he knew he had to put a stop to it.

“(Name)?” You glanced for a single moment before your furious glare had returned to the stranger, another flag waving right in his face as he approached, “My dear? Who might this be?”

Before you could snap, lip curling in disgust, the stranger stood back to their full height, switching quickly with a fake charming smile that practically mirrored his own, holding out their hand towards him “(S/N) (Last), (Name)’s older sibling. it’s nice to meet you”

Kaeya’s smile widened and despite the glare from you that was now focused on him, he shook your sibling's hand in-kind “Kaeya Alberich, (Name)’s partner-”

He made sure to tighten his grip with his last words “And Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius”

Successfully, as he always was, Kaeya held back the smug, mocking grin that itched to climb onto his face when the neck of your sibling bobbed nervously, forehead reflecting the afternoon light as sweat gathered on their brow.

The man hadn’t obviously threatened them, surely, Kaeya was smarter than that, but then again, he could still present himself as a threat, a good one and well, his title was a menacing one when it came to the right moment. ‘Try anything and not only do I have the authority to kick your arse but the power to put you in a place many didn’t dare even step’ shortened into an innocent sentence with only 8 words.

“Cavalry Captain? That’s quite impressive” They laughed off, tugging away their hand awkwardly when Kaeya continued to keep a firm grip, his present eye focused solely on your siblings face. They glanced over to you “Quite an achievement for you, aye (Name)?”

You growled, “I’ll show you an achievement-”

Kaeya’s arm had wrapped around your waist not a second later, tugging you tighter to his side as the two of you turned, the man throwing your sibling a smile over his shoulder.

“As nice as it was to meet you, (S/B), we must be going”

And then without another word Kaeya dragged you away, heading in the direction of your home instead of Angel Share tavern, feeling your pure, unfiltered anger the whole way along with the citizens as they parted ways, rushing off from your rage.

It was only when you had returned to the sanctuary of your abode did you snap, jerking away from your boyfriend with angered strides and beginning your seething lecture towards him, moving up and down through the living room while he ventured off into the kitchen, grabbing 2 glasses and a bottle of wine.

“How dare you Kaeya! How fucking dare you! Do you have any idea what you were doing back there!? What was even happening back there!? So much for being the most observant man in Mondstadt because you seemed pretty dense to me the whole fucking time!” Your hands raked through your hair as you yelled, trying so hard to hold back the tears “I didn’t need your damn help, Kaeya! Nor did I fucking want it! Know to stay out of someone's business when it isn’t wanted!”

Logically you knew what he had done, you were smart like that and you knew Kaeya long enough to know what he was doing but your rage, fear and sadness blocked out everything in that moment, made you blind to reality, made you only think irrationally and Kaeya didn’t blame you for that. He could never blame you for that.

Though, it did hurt him to see you in this state.

“Wine?”

You gawked at him for a moment, staring at him with shock and confusion as he held out a wine glass towards you, another held in his other hand and a sweet smile plastered on his face, before your moment morphed into rage, grabbing the drink from his hand and tossing it towards the wall, the red wine splattering over the wallpaper and glass shards falling to the floor.

“Well, that was a waste-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Kaeya!?” You cried, not even bothering to hold back anymore as the tears fell and your voice cracked, hand pointing accusingly in his face “Is this some kind of joke to you!? Huh!? Am I a fool in your eyes!? Some sort of blubbering idiot!? Why must you- why do you-”

The second glass was placed on the dresser by you both, Kaeya’s hand coming to hold your cheek fondly while the other came to grab your hand that dangled in the air, still poised at him “I don’t think you're either of those, my dear, in fact, I think you’re one of the brightest in the whole of Teyvat, nevermind Mondstadt”

You hiccuped “Then why-”

Brushing away the wetness from your cheek, he brought your hand to his mouth to place a fond kiss on your palm “Because you mustn’t cry, (Name), don’t waste your tears on someone like them”

“I’m not crying, I’m-”

He shushed you gently and you finally relaxed, falling into his embrace with a heavy heart “-I’m not, I swear-”

Within the familiarity of your home, you wept in his arms, exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions and the scenes that had transpired that day, ready to just curl into yourself and try to block the flooding memories of history. Although, having Kaeya at that moment helped more than he could ever know, having him to rely on made it all so much easier to cope with that day.

“Tell me what ails you and I’ll listen” Brushing back some hair, he pressed a kiss to your head.

“Can..can we just stay like this for a while?”

“Of course, my dear”

Zhongli

He had sensed the incoming danger like it had been revealed in some sort of premonition. Maybe it had been a skill he had acquired after his long, eventful life, maybe it was his connection to Liyue and his citizens, but for some reason, as he sat before Iron Tongue Tian as the man recalled his tales of ancient Liyue like usual, Zhongli knew that the crowd that was forming around Wamin Restaurant had something that he need urgently attend, especially when even Tian paused his story to glance around the corner of the restaurant building to see the commotion.

When the archon had finally borne witness to the scene, he paused within the crowd, surveying the surroundings carefully. You were the centre of attention, along with another stranger, both glaring at one another with anger and disgust, though your own anger seemed to double compared to the other���s, seeing as your weapon was slowly materialising in your grip. Zhongli could also see Guild Master Lan making her way down the steps leading to the Guild reception, a worried expression on her face glancing between you and the approaching Millelith.

Zhongli made his decision, politely pushing through the crowd until he had finally made it by your side, hand being placed gently on your arm “(Name)?”

Both you and the stranger glanced at him, but he paid no mind to them, only held eye contact with you when Lan appeared by your other side, glaring at the stranger with a hardened gaze.

“Are you harassing my guild member?”

Before the stranger could respond, the Millelith had also popped in, glancing between you and them “Is there a problem?”

Zhongli had taken up your view when Lan began her take, she had borne witness for much longer than he had of course and he was certain that you were in no state to talk to the guards. Your eyes were glazed with hatred, pupils pinpricks in a sea of (E/C) and your hands were shaking, balled into fists.

If anything, he needed to try and calm you down first.

“Get the hell out of my way, Zhongli” Your teeth ground together, words shaking with anger “Don’t push yourself into my business”

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t do that” He tried brushing your cheek but you jerked away, glaring at his hand before glaring back at him, in no mood to be coddled “I don’t want you to do something you’d regret”

“Trust me, I won’t regret this one bit”

Zhongli held his tongue for the question that almost rolled out, knowing now wasn’t the time for inquiries when the stranger’s voice rang out, condescending and snarky as they addressed you.

“Still need people to protect you, aye (Name)? Of course, you’re still the same pathetic bitch from years ago”

You were lucky for your reputation around Liyue, for the picture of the kind and caring adventurer that had swept through the town from your years of living here because had it not been for that, you pushing aside your boyfriend and materialising your weapon to aim it at your sibling’s throat would have had you in cuffs that instant.

Lan grabbed you, tugging you away as you screamed “I’ll show you pathetic you fucker! Let me go!”

The Millelith didn’t wait to drag your sibling away, much to their cries of dismay, one sending Lan a nod while you continued to fight against her, crying out in frustration.

“Kid, you have to calm down-”

“Calm down!? No! Get the hell off me!”

Zhongli watched as you finally broke away, huffing and puffing up a storm before glancing amongst the crowd, staring at their worried and concerned faces, your own eyes tearing up before you looked away pushing past the crowd to find somewhere to be alone.

When Lan went to call out for you, Zhongli raised his hand, the two sharing a look before the archon made his way after you, his longer legs keeping a steady pace to which he could catch up to you, just beyond the bridge that led into Liyue Harbour. There were no people where you stood, just the lush green plants and great mountains of nature, a perfect place for you to let out your frustration without the prying eyes of the citizens.

“(Name)-”

“Leave me alone!” You cried, curling into yourself with your back turned to him “I don’t want you here, Zhongli! Nor did I want you back there! I didn’t need your or anyone else's help!”

You knew he was here from a place of concern, and deep down you begged that your words didn’t harm him in any way, but currently, you didn’t care, you didn’t want to care, you just wanted to be numb, numb to the flashbacks of your horrid past and numb to the feelings that were dragged along with them.

“My love, please, return with me to our home, I will brew some calming tea-”

“Tea? Tea!? Does it look like I want any fucking tea?! I couldn’t care any less about some fucking tea, Zhongli!” Spinning around on your heels, you scowled at him, not bothering to hide your rushing tears “Don’t you get it!? I want to be left alone, I-”

Two gloved hands gently encased your face, your angered expression morphing into one of shock as your partner stared down at you with glowing eyes filled with a deep-rooted love, affection, worry and so much more that you couldn’t put into mere mortal words. At that moment, everything felt as if it had melted away, only you and him were in this world, nothing else, just the two of you.

And you felt as though your heart had been lifted from the pressures of this life.

“I do not think it is best for you to be left alone” His baritone voice was always so calming, so serene and in your sane moment, you finally felt its effects “I wish to stay with you, so please, let me stay”

With a whimper, you grabbed onto his forearms and leaned your face into his hands, tears continuing to fall as your eyes fluttered shut “Okay…”

“They have hurt you deeply, haven’t they?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me the details?”

“I-...” Sharing eye contact once again, you whispered “Can- can you just...hold me for now? Please”

Moving his hands from your face, he engulfed you in his arms, leaning his head against yours “Of course”

Childe

The Harbinger had just left the Northland Bank, hell, he was just about to make his way down the spiral staircase but when hearing the commotion, he paused, something in his gut telling him to check just before and he was glad he did.

Glancing over the elevated walkway, he felt a fiery pit roar in the depths of his stomach, eyes narrowing dangerously at the scene; you were snarling in some other person’s face, their own face nothing short of disgust and a crowd that only seemed to grow by the minute.

Who the hell did this person think they were? Did they even know who you were? To stand so close to you, with a look of threat on their face like you weren’t about to kick their arse? Like he wasn’t about to kick their arse? How did this insignificant speck of dross not know your connections with him, the 11th Harbinger? Or did he know and was just trying his luck?

“Seems like someone has a death wish” And a death wish they had indeed.

Ignoring the perplexed glance from his subordinate stationed outside the building's entrance, Childe made his way down the steps, murderous look stitched on the whole way to the circle of civilians, the mass parting ways for the man that was Tartaglia and continuing to watch the moment in silence.

“Who the hell are you-” You both turned towards him, you in shock while the stranger stared in confusion until Childe’s hand wrapped around their collar, tugging them closer to look down at them with a deep-rooted disgust “-And why the hell are you harassing my partner?”

They fought against him, obviously, they did, but the surprise came when you saddled up next to him, grabbing his arm “Stay out of this, Tartaglia”

What? It hadn't been your request, no, you were always one to finish your whole fights you weren't "A damsel in distress after all!" no, you were so much more, so much greater but that look on your face, murderous and downright cruel- he just couldn't believe his ears.

Childe stared at you in shock while the stranger struggled, throwing him a dirty look in their attempts “Yeah, this is between my sibling and I”

Childe straightened in surprise, feeling embarrassment flood his system. Had he seriously just grabbed and threatened his lover’s family member? Oh, Archons, his judgement had been clouded by anger at the look of the scene, I mean, why would your sibling look at you that way-

“But it’s really no surprise that you still need to be babied, (Name), how shameful”

His eyes widened but not a moment later had you tackled your sibling, the crowd crying out in alarm as you threw back your fist and crushed their nose under the weight of your punch. “I’ll show you fucking shameful, bastard!”

There was shouting and a glance showed the oncoming Millelith marching towards the circle.

Being Fatui always did garner the attention of the guards nowadays, especially for him, who had tried to lure out the attention of their Archon by summoning an ancient god that nearly drowned the entirety of the harbour, so it was no surprise that they seemed to hurry in the pursuit when they noticed his appearance at the scene. However, lucky for him, your reputation as a great adventurer preceded you and throughout Liyue you were seen as a trusted and well-liked individual, meaning whatever trouble you got in, containing his meddling or not, was usually waved away due to the trust of the people.

So, without another thought, Childe tugged you off of your bloodied sibling and held you close, even as you thrashed violently, shouting at him to let you go.

“What is going on here?” A guard called, slamming the hilt of his polearm into the ground as he surveyed the area, eyes landing on the sibling before following the small trail of blood to you, still fighting against your boyfriend with threats falling from your lips “Was there a reason for this brawl? Who started it?”

As your sibling raised themselves on their forearms, they scowled and opened their mouth to respond, only for Childe to put in. “It was them, sir, they were the one that started it, (Name) was merely acting in self-defence”

The Millelith scowled at him, raising a brow and once again looking you over “Is that so?”

He addressed the crowd soon after “Is this what happened?”

And as expected, they all glanced over the sibling, then to you and piped up in agreement. It paid to be a hero, it seemed, the whole harbour returning the favour of years of helping out the community.

“If that’s the case, please come with us” The sibling cried out, anger and fear laced into their voice, trying to argue for their innocence only for the guards to grab them, hauling them away to archons know where while Childe did the same with you, slowly dragging you away from the scene and back into the bank, you screaming and cursing the whole way until you had made it to his office, finally managing to push him off and storming to the opposite side of the room practically seething.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Tartaglia!?” You cried, throwing out your arms in exaggeration “I didn’t need your fucking help! And why the fuck would you pull me off them!? I had them right where I wanted them and you fucking did that! Are you a moron!?”

“You had a sibling” He breathed, watching as you began to pace, muttering in an angered state “And you didn’t tell me”

“-after all these years I finally had the chance to end their pathetic excuse of a life and you just got in my fucking way! I’d waited too long for this moment and you fucking ruined it! How dare you, how fucking dare you-”

“(Name), why didn’t you tell me you had a sibling!?” He cried, walking up to you and grabbing your wrist to stop you “I was ready to kill them right there! And why are you talking about them like this!? They’re your family aren’t they-”

“They are not my fucking family!”

The scream echoed through the room, chilling Childe to the core as you ripped your arm from his grasp, running your hands through your hair before gripping it so tightly it felt close to being ripped from your head. But you didn’t care, no, you couldn’t, you were so angry and you needed something to keep you grounded, to keep yourself from losing yourself and getting lost in those haunting past memories.

The Harbinger felt his chest squeeze painfully as the tears fell down your face, red rimming your eyes and cheeks wet as you sobbed, chest heaving from trying to breathe “Family takes care of you! Family thinks of you in the highest light possible! They love you for who you are and they love you no matter what! That bastard hurt me, made me feel worthless and they refuse to believe they could do no wrong and I hate them! They are the bane of my existence! They are not my fucking family! I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I-”

Arms were around you instantly, Childe’s face pressed into your hair as you wept, grasping onto the lapels of his suit and shoving your face into his chest to muffle your cries.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his own eyes shining slightly “I’m sorry, I was being insensitive. Please, don’t cry”

“No, I’m not crying, I promised myself I wouldn’t-” You hiccuped “I wouldn’t waste any more tears on them-”

Then you broke off into more wails, your boyfriend holding you close and letting you continue to cry in his arms, warm and comforting until you were finally reduced to whimpers, leaning into him heavily as the remaining adrenaline in your body began to wear thin when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Will...will you tell me about it?”

You sniffed “Later...just hold me for now, please, Ajax...”

His arms tightened protectively “Anything for you, my love”

[hpalways]

since your requests are open can i request an angst/comfort argument scenario with childe?? like he goes too far with his words and only after what he said finally sinks in he realizes his s/o might have left him for good?? while theyre just somewhere to cool down after having stormed off, ty <33

Note: hi, yes! ofc. thanks for the request

In the death of night laid the chance to let unknown truths be known. The darkness offered solace, but it also allowed anger to burn. And that was exactly what you saw on Childe’s face when he approached you, his friendly facade dropping from their usual joking smile. 

The two of you were dating secretly, for given his position, it would be too dangerous to let the cat out of the bag. He was trying to protect you -- no, save you from the evils he had encountered on his own, the same way he was trying to protect his siblings from the raw, ugly truth. That was where he was wrong. He wasn’t protecting anybody. He was protecting himself. He was selfishly afraid that if you were to see his true self, it would make you love him any less. 

Blue jagged crystals were narrowed for his pair of eyes, piercing through your heart in mirth. His expression was serious, accompanied by emotions of pain and longing. 

You supposed you did cross the line today, but you were growing tired of this routine. 

“[Y/N],” he breathed out, sounding cold. “What makes you think you could waltz into the Northland Bank like that?”

Unfortunately, while you tried to dig deeper, you were kicked out by the one and only eleventh harbringer, Childe himself. He was furious then, breathing out raggedly at your mistakes, but now, he was angry in a calm manner, which, to be honest, was a scarier thing to witness. 

“Am I not allowed to visit my boyfriend’s workplace once in a while?” you spat out, returning a glare of your own. 

“You already know our situation,” he said. 

“And I’m sick of it. What is it that you’re so afraid to show me?”

He stepped up even closer to you, where you could see his clenched jaw and the glisten in his eyes. “I have nothing to show you. You had no right to dig into my life.”

Tears began to the prickle the corners of your eyes. “Are you serious?” you sputtered in disbelief. “You’re supposed to be my fucking boyfriend. Why is it such a crime to want to learn more about you?”

“I told you that it was to protect you, not me.”

“Oh, don’t lie now. I can see through your bullshit.”

“Don’t try to wring it out again,” he snarled. “I have no use for a nosy partner.”

A pang slammed you in the chest. You stared at with wide eyes, hurt spreading through your system. You noticed the way he stiffened up and knew he regretted his words, but it was too late by now. “I see. There’s no trust to begin with here.” Spinning around, you stomped out of the room and closed the door shut behind you. 

The ginger was left to his own devices, his head hanging low in pain. He was so angry, so terrified, so anxious all the time that the spitball fire came rushing out at once. He hurt you -- the one he learned to love, despite every obstacle that hurled his way. 

His gloved hand curled around the edge of the window sill, his eyes locked on the beautiful scenery of Liyue Harbor. The glistening lights and lamps were flickered on in the distance, basking the darkness in its glory. Citizens still milled around in this hour, always willing to make business. He wondered how easy life would be if he was a normal person like everyone else was -- not part of the Fatui, not having to resist bloodlust, and not having to hurt the people around him. 

It would be smart to let go of you, but he was selfish. He was selfish because he he loved you so much and wanted you by his side forever, but he could never let his horrid deeds come out to the light. 

If your face of disgust was ever aimed at him, it would be etched in his mind for eternity. 

The next morning he found you in the kitchen, eating a quick meal for breakfast. His eyes softened at the sight of you, hesitantly joining you at the table. He was surprised you were still here -- still having the patience to hear him out. 

“Comrade,” he murmured uneasily. “I’m really sorry about last night. You’re correct about everything. I’m... afraid of it all. But I’m most afraid that I’ll lose you if you learn the truth. I’ve done horrid things in my life, [Y/N]. There were so many sacrifices I had to make in this path I chose. So I understand if--” 

You shook your head, making eye contact with his sorrowful irises. “Do you really believe I would leave you that easily? I know you’re part of the Fatui and I’m still here. Have more faith in me.” He blinked at you in shock for a second, his pain replaced by utter adoration. His tall form maneuvered around the table until he found you. His arms wrapped you in a hug, his face snuggled into the crook of your neck. Your cheeks flustered at his actions, but you hugged him back anyway. “I’m sorry too,” you muttered. His face lifted, so close to your own that you could see his long lashes. 

“None of this was your fault.”

“Yes it is,” you protested. “I shouldn’t have tried to pry into your secrets for something you weren’t ready yet. I say trust, but I wasn’t being so trusting either.”

He smiled gently and kissed the side of your face, leaving you burning in embarrassment. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, comrade.”

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 4

The Darkling x Reader

You stood still for a long time, pondering over what to tell him. There was so much he didn't know and so much you didn't want to share. You needed him to ask specific questions. You really couldn't afford to let your mouth run.

'Okay.'

You sat down at the end of your bed, fiddling with your hands. You felt nervous now. Should you lie? Was it worth feeling his wrath at a later date for a couple more months of peace? For a brief second your eyes went to his hands. The hands that can do unspeakable things, that can inflict the worst pain and kill in an instant. But they can also do other things too. You craved the power he possessed because you knew you could have it again one day.

'What happened that day?' He said softly, still not moving from his place beside the door.

You had imagined this day thousands of times, finally seeing your Aleksander, him asking you where you went. What happened. You gave the same answer every time. It was memorized and clung in the back of your mind. Yet now, finding yourself in the dream you lived over and over countless times, you were stuck for words. You didn't know where to start even though it was obvious, start at the beginning. Your palms were sweating now and your breath became erratic.

'Well ummm-' you were uncomfortable. Your walls were breaking down. He always had this effect on you. Get yourself together you fool.

‘-It wasn't my fault. I swear it. I don't know what you've heard but I swear on the Saints I didn't mean for it to happen.' You became frantic and words were coming out of your mouth unfiltered.

'Y/N what are you talking about?!'

'When I went to look for those Grisha that day, near the Fjerdan border, there was a scuffle. One of the villagers knew what I was, started getting in my face. He wouldn't stop talking and screaming about how horrid I was; about how disgusting I was. I- It happened before I knew it I swear, I didn't wish anybody any harm.'

I'm not like you.

'I didn't mean for it to happen, I pushed myself and got cocky. I lost all control.' A tear slipped out of your eye.

'Y/N It's okay, it's over no-'

'No. You need to know what happened, you wanted to know and I'll tell you.' You wiped the tear and went on, your eyes focused on your hands.

'He was cut in half by the time his daughter started running for the door.-' You gave a weak laugh.

'- and then I went after her. and her mother. her brother. their neighbors. Everybody. Even my own kind. My own Grisha.' You were sobbing, hearty cries left your throat. 'There was nobody left.'

You had killed before but never like this. This was completely unmotivated, there was no reason to obliterate a whole village. You could still remember every detail, the smell of copper in the air and the labored last breaths. With shame, you could also remember the buzz of power and how euphoric it felt.

'I have seen red, Aleksander. And 98 years later I'm still having nightmares about my doings. I don't know what happened. I swear. All my abilities vanished after it. I was just a murderous otkazat’sya standing in a village of dead bodies. I was exactly what he said I was.'

'Why didn't you come back to me?' His voice was strained, sad. He moved closer to you but you refused to look at him. You sniffed.

'I tried. I got close. But then Baghra sent me a lovely message. It was simple. 'Don't come back'. An inferni managed to escape me but not before being killed by your sweet mother for knowing what had happened-'

You finally look at him. He looked heartbroken, but not for all those people you killed; for you. His hands reached for your fumbling ones. A feeling of warmth and confidence spread through you while the guilt grew.

'-I believe my massacre was covered up very well though, what was it again? Oh yes, the Druskelle attacked and left no survivors? burned down the remnants? I can only imagine what would happen if the truth got out, what would the King think? He would have your head on a spike before I even came back.'

'They told me you were dead. That the Druskelle killed you on sight.'

His thumb caressed your hand, trying to soothe you. Truth was, there was no soothing to do. You faced the facts of your experience, or rather inexperience, a long time ago. You were dangerous when you couldn't control yourself; when anger and arrogance took over. You don't have the luxury of being a normal person with the ability to feel when you needed to feel. You never will, no matter the control you have.

'Well, you know now.' You stood up and got away from him. He was an amplifier, whatever you felt without him, you felt x10 more when he touched you.

'What did you do next?'

'I hid. It wasn't hard. Nobody knew what I looked like. I wasn't a Grisha in anybody's eyes, not even mine. I grew weak and sick since I had no power to use. It went on like that for 2 years until I came across a heartrenderer near Poliznaya. I was on the verge of death, he tried to help, and as soon as he touched me I flipped the card. He was gasping for air while my body felt like my body again. I ran off before I had any more blood on my hands.'

'Is that when you started seeking out other Grisha?' He was trying to follow along. He was intently listening and not interrupting. You were surprised he wasn't mad that you killed his Grisha in cold blood.

'No. I went to Shu Han. Learned to fight. To survive without the comfort of the Little Palace or a hospital ward.' The Little Palace and its luxuries spoiled you beyond repair. Aleksander made sure you had everything you ever needed, except the one thing you needed most: self-control training. He tended to subdue you, but you couldn't blame him, not after all you've done.

He reached for you once again.

'You're safe now Darling. I'm not judging you. I wouldn't dare.'

You didn't know whether to run into his arms or move as far back as you could. You always tied his darkness, his shadows, to the event that took place. His shadows were what you killed with and it was his power that brought you over the edge yet you still craved it regardless.

But for the first time since yesterday, his mere touch and comfort were needed more than his power. His arms enveloped your waist and pulled you into him. You finally relaxed. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest through his thick kefta. You allowed yourself this moment to block out the world. It was just you and him, the Darkling and the Witch.

'Y/N, you have no idea how much I have missed you.' He whispered into your hair and held you tighter, his true emotions showing.

It wasn't long before you broke away from Aleksander and awkwardly stared at him.

'Okay.......I'm done talking for today' you joked with a sad smile. Your tears now completely dried on your face but your eyes still puffy. Aleksander took this as a very clear sign to leave. Although the last thing he wanted was to leave you alone in this state, something told him you knew how to handle yourself.

'Alright then, I shall leave you to it' He about to head for the door when he remembered what brought him to your room in the first place.

'Y/N?'

'Yes?'

'Impressive kefta orders might I say. Should I be alarmed?' Fedyor must have reported to him right away when he heard your requests for the seamstress. You rolled your eyes and let out a genuine laugh. Aleksander's heart skipped a beat.

'I'm making up for lost time'

'I'm hoping' His words carried a weight you didn't expect and didn't acknowledge.

'Do you wish to dine with the rest of the Grisha?'

'Where would I sit? I'm sure my chair has been removed.' You once had a proud chair next to The Darkling. He never dared put you into a single Grisha order, much like your keftas, he always went along with your idea to not conform.

'I can bring it back if you like.'

'Maybe next time, I'll eat here for now'

'Alone?'

'Yes.' you breathed.

'Very well. '

'Goodbye General.' You mocked and seen a smirk on his beautiful face. You missed him too.

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

Part 5

@xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl

[livingforcoopsandoknutzy]

Ouuu would u ever write a part 3? Maybe just some hurt/comfort where Remus is super anxious and dealing with the Greyback trauma with Sirius comforting him? + Sirius being protective and Greyback getting his ass handed to him? Only if you have time and want to write it🥰

Sorry it took a minute <3

Pt. 3 of Protective Sirius

All the love to @lumosinlove for creating these amazing characters

TW: panic attack/anxiety/nightmares/injuries

   Remus just wanted the pain to end. Greyback had been pinning his arm back, jerking it out of socket and still pulling. His shoulder felt like it was on fire and he was screaming but no noise was coming out.

  He had tried desperately to get Greyback off of him but it was all for nothing since Greyback seemed impossible to move.

   Suddenly they weren’t in the workout room anymore. Instead, Remus was being pulled roughly into an alley behind a bar. Greyback was standing in front of him sneering, two large men standing next to him with equally intimidating faces.

   Remus took an involuntary step back and held his hands up. “Stop. You’ve already done enough Greyback, just leave.” Greyback threw his head back and laughed, a disgusting sound. “I don’t think you quite got the message, Loopy.” Remus glared at him, trying to hide the fear building up in him.

   The next thing he knew he was on the ground and Greyback’s fists were attacking his face. He tried to bring his hands up to defend himself but the two men had pinned his arms down as Greyback landed blow after blow.

   Remus let out an embarrassing whimper as the pain and cold seeped into his bones. He tried telling them to stop but it wasn’t working, his voice came out mute which only spurred his panic more.

   All of a sudden, Greyback had his skates in his hands. Remus looked at them in confusion before his eyes widened and he whimpered as he realized what Greyback was going to do. He tried to squirm out of the men’s grips but it didn’t do much since he was too numb to move.

   Greyback put the cold metal against his cheek before digging in and jerking it, the burning feeling telling Remus it had cut deep. Greyback leaned close to Remus’s ear and whispered quietly, “I took away the most important thing in your life once.” He said, swiping the silver against the opposite cheek and Remus felt his tears mixing with his blood.

   “Now you’ve found something else, no? Sirius is more important now and we can’t have you happy now can we?” He said, swiping the silver over his lip with a sick smile. Remus heard himself sob as Greyback leaned over him again.

   “Who would want someone so scarred? You’re hideous, you always were but now it’s undeniable.”

   Remus was standing in front of Sirius, pain and sorrow showing themselves in tears. “You don’t actually expect me to stay with you, do you? With your horrid face? How can someone be so weak?” Sirius snarled, his face twisted up in disgust. 

   Remus whimpered, his heart shattering as Sirius stared at him with more hate in his eyes than Remus had ever seen. “I wasted my whole life on you. How could I do that? How could I waste it on a worthless, scared, weak person like you?”

   Remus sat up with a gasp, tears and sweat covering his face. He had been released from the hospital a week ago but he’d been having nightmares every night. So far he had managed to not wake Sirius up with them but it had definitely been putting a damper on things. He had been regrettably short with Sirius due to lack of sleep and anxiety from his nightmares and Greyback.

   Remus was shaking so hard he was moving the bed. He closed his eyes tightly trying to block out the memories but it only made them clearer. Remus felt his breathing picking up as he tried to escape the memories to no avail.

   He whimpered loudly and briefly wished Sirius was awake, his wish was soon answered and he regretted it immediately.

   “Re?” He heard Sirius’s croaky, sleep driven voice in the dark. Remus sobbed loudly and quickly put his hand over his mouth but it made it harder to breathe so he took it away with another sob. 

   Sirius was sitting up and kneeling next to him in seconds. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He asked quickly, his hands coming up to cup Remus’s face. Remus couldn’t help the panicked scream that escaped him when he felt Sirius’s hands on his face, memories of Greyback floating to the front of his brain again.

   Sirius cursed loudly and quickly retracted his hands as he watched helplessly as his boyfriend sobbed in front of him. “Re, mon loup, look at me.” Remus let out a loud sob and continued shaking, his arms wrapping around his body as his eyes squeezed shut. Sirius made a weak sound as his eyes watered.

   “Baby, please. You have to look at me.” He said desperately wishing he could touch Remus and ground him as he watched his boyfriend’s chest rise and fall rapidly. Remus made a scared sound and Sirius knew he wasn’t going to look up so he took a deep breath and tried grounding Remus himself.

   “You’re okay, Re. We’re in our bedroom, it’s just us. Remus and Sirius. It’s two in the morning, we don’t have any games tomorrow so we were going to sleep in.” He said, changing tactics and hoping that Remus would find his voice reassuring.

   “Mon loup, you need to breathe. Do you want to watch a movie? Or I could read to you?” Sirius’s voice broke embarrassingly on the last words as his tears started to spill. He was scared that would make Remus worse but it had the opposite effect.

   Remus’s head rose and he looked at Sirius with red eyes and a tear-stained face before shakily reaching out for him. Sirius let out a relieved sigh before falling into his arms, letting Remus hold him, knowing that it would be overwhelming for Remus right now if it were the other way around.

   Sirius held onto Remus tightly, his own tears making wet spots on Remus’s shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Remus chanted quietly but Sirius shook his head. “What are you possibly sorry for?” He asked, pulling away just enough to meet Remus’s eyes.

  Remus cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “For scaring you, for making you cry, for having nightmares, for waking you up this time, for-” He cut off as his face crumpled. Sirius let out a sad sound and tilted Remus’s head back up with his finger. 

   “Baby, no. None of that is your fault or something you should apologize for. You didn’t scare me I just didn’t know what was going on and I was only crying because you were. And Re, nightmares aren’t you’re fault but what do you mean this time?” He asked quietly, his eyes scanning every inch of Remus’s face.

   Remus just shook his head weakly before dropping it on Sirius’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I’ve been so short with you recently, I just can’t shake the nightmares but it’s okay.” Sirius frowned deeply. “Mon loup, that’s not okay. You could have told me or woken me up. I’m here to help you, I’m here for you.” Remus stared at Sirius for a minute and Sirius schooled his face into a completely sincere expression.

   With a choked sound Remus pressed their foreheads together. “Do you still love me?” Remus asked quietly, cringing away from Sirius slightly. Sirius looked at Remus as if he’d lost his mind. “Re, yes I still love you. Nothing on earth would change that.” 

   Remus bit his lip hard to keep in the sob that was threatening to drown him. He chewed on his lip until he tasted the copper of blood in his mouth. Sirius slowly brought his hand up, giving Remus enough time to move if he needed to, before gently prying Remus’s lip from his teeth. “Don’t do that baby, you’re bleeding.” 

   Remus completely lost it at Sirius’s soft voice, caring in a way that only Remus had ever heard. “Why would you think I don’t love you anymore?” Sirius asked again quietly as he linked both their hands together, nudging Remus’s cheek with his nose gently.

   “I- Greyback.” He said quietly and sighed when Sirius shot him a confused look. “When he- when he cornered me he said that you wouldn’t love me with all my scars. I didn’t believe that.” He said quickly when Sirius frowned deeply at him. “I don’t believe that I just- I just had a dream and I had to make sure.” Sirius nodded in understanding. 

   “Ignore dream me, Remus. I’m real and I love you so much, really now more than ever because you just showed how strong you really are.” Remus made a strange noise in the back of his throat and kissed Sirius hard on the mouth. Sirius brought his hands up but hovered above Remus’s cheeks, not wanting to set him off again.

   Remus brought his hands up and pushed Sirius’s hands onto his face tenderly. They kissed for a few more minutes until they pulled away and Remus yawned quietly. Sirius took the time to really take in Remus’s face, the shadows under his eyes, the sunken look his face held, his bloodshot eyes, and bruises that hadn’t healed yet. He looked exhausted and Sirius cursed himself for having not noticed how tired his boyfriend was.

   Sirius put one arm around Remus’s waist and the other under his thigh so he could bring Remus into his lap. Remus went willingly, his arms wrapping themselves around Sirius’s middle as he let his cheek rest on Sirius’s chest.

   Remus looked comfortable but he didn’t close his eyes. Sirius sighed softly and brought his hand to the brunette’s curls. “Je t'ai mon loup, dors. I’ll be here when you wake up. Je ne vais nulpart.”

  Remus let out a content sigh before he laced their fingers together and let his eyes fall shut. For the first time in more than a week, he slept with no nightmares.

   They hadn’t had to go up against Vegas until a month after Remus got out of the hospital. Remus was growing quite anxious the days leading up to the game and he could see the mixture of anger and concern that was radiating off of Sirius. Anger towards Greyback and concern for Remus and his anxiety.

   Soon enough they were on the plane heading to Vegas to play the Golden Knights and Remus was fiddling with the ends of his sleeves as he stared out the window, his mind running a mile a minute.

    Sirius rested a calming hand on Remus’s knee to stop it bouncing, Remus flashed him a thankful smile. “Don’t be anxious, it’ll be okay. I promise he won’t get near you.” Sirius said, his thumb rubbing Remus’s knee.

   “I think it would be damn near impossible to get through the entire team to get to you.” Remus heard Logan say from his spot behind them, tucked into Finn’s side. Finn, Leo, and Dumo nodded in agreement.

   “He’s going down. No one hurts someone on our team without getting their ass handed to them.” Kasey said from where he sat with Thomas. 

   Remus felt a small warmth in his stomach at the thought of the guys thinking of him as part of the team but a new panic swept over him. “You aren’t allowed to get in a fight over this.” Remus said quickly, making eye contact with everyone to exaggerate his point. 

   “No fights, the more fights the more people get kicked out and then we lose and you guys have to win for me.” He didn’t actually need them to win but it would be a good feeling and the guys would agree. 

   James and Kasey huffed but Sirius just gave him a smug look and looked at Finn and Thomas. “Okay, we won’t start a fight but there's no saying we won’t finish one.” A smile broke out on Kasey, Thomas, Finn, and Logan’s faces.

   Leo looked at his boyfriends before groaning and putting his face in his hands. Remus looked at him and nodded in agreement. “Preferably no fights at all but if he starts it feel free to finish it.” He said with a small laugh. Remus looked out the window for a second before turning back to the team.

   “Just promise you’ll be careful.” Remus says, looking at Sirius pointedly before turning to the rest of the team. “Don’t get yourselves hurt fighting on my behalf. I’ll be fine all you have to do is keep him away from our bench.” 

   Dumo laughed quietly as he shook his head. “Like hell he’ll get anywhere close to you.” Dumo said, his voice protective in a way Remus hadn’t expected. Dumo was like a dad to everyone on the team and it wasn’t like Remsu and Dumo weren’t close but he hadn’t exactly expected that.

   Sirius wrapped his arm around Remus’s waist and rested his chin on Remus’s shoulder. “I think the point we’re trying to make here baby, is that we have your back no matter what alright?” Remus gave him a soft smile before turning to everyone.

   “I hope you know I love you guys and you all mean so much to me and just- thank you.” They all  aww’d which made Remus laugh as he felt a rush of love and appreciation for all of them. “However, I still stand on my no fighting rule.” Everyone groaned.

   The game had been fairly easy going so far. Greyback had smiled wickedly at Remus when he skated on the ice and it had shot anxiety through his body. Sirius and Logan had glared at him and took a step towards him before Greyback snarled and went to his side.

   The game started with no fights and everything was fine until Greyback slammed Logan into the wall when he was nowhere near the puck. Finn and Sirius were on him in seconds and everyone in the stands started screaming encouragement and ‘fight, fight, fight’. 

   Remus was scared they were going to be hurt but his worries were unwarranted because while Thomas and James joined the fight no one went to help Greyback. The ref had broken the fight up and Remus felt rather smug when his team walked away perfectly fine while Greyback laid on the ice catching his breath, blood flowing from his lip and broken nose.

   The ref sent Finn, Sirius, and Greyback to their respective penalty boxes. Sirius stopped and kissed Remus roughly before he went with Finn to the box. Remus watched as the players traded spots and Logan sat roughly on the seat in front of him so Remus could look him over.

   Remus was trying to fight the smile that was creeping on his face but Logan just smiled and waved it off. “Relax, Loops. They got revenge. It's okay for you to appreciate it, I know you're going to lecture them later but enjoy it now.” Remus laughed and shook his head but stopped trying to hide his smile. 

   Logan was fine but Remus warned him about the large bruise that was already darkening around his ribcage. Logan nodded and sent a thumbs up to Finn and Leo, both of whom had been watching anxiously. They both shot Logan a smile and nodded, their attention returning to the game.

   There weren’t anymore problems for the rest of the game and Remus was very proud when the Lions won. Sirius had scored the game point with twenty seconds left and everyone had screamed because the Lions had won. Sirius was next to Remus before he could cheer, his arms lifting Remus up and spinning him around as Remus laughed loudly.Remus tightened his arms around Sirius and smiled goofily. 

   They had won, not just the game. They had won against Greyback. They had won against the haters. They had won because they were together and nothing Greyback did would ever change that. They won because there was no way to lose when you were surrounded by the ones you loved.

   Remus could count on years of winning with Sirius and when Greyback threw him a threatening look it was that thought that made him send a smile instead of a frown. 

   It was with that thought that he finally felt safe.

[bleedingspades]

Beauty and the Titan prt. 1

Eren X gn Reader

Angst

You wake to find the walls destroyed, and meet a very strange Titan and like a fool you follow it.

Warnings ⚠️: season one spoilers, talk of suicide, parental abuse, physical abuse, blood, death, and body dismemberment! And this is unedited but I’ll reread and edit as time passes haha! ⚠️VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED ⚠️

Pain, you’re head feels as if it’s about to burst , open your eyes. Open! Please, please, please open, you beg yourself. But all your body wants to do is sleep. But isn’t that bad? Stay awake!

A constant ringing in your ears and the dull sounds of shouting or screaming, what happened? You feel someone step on your hand. But yet you can’t will yourself to pry your eyelids away from each other. As if they’re destined to stay closed for forever. You can hear foot steps run past you. Tired so tired..can’t stay awake

Darkness closes in silence hugs your mind. Peace

The ground starts to rumble, stirring you from your unconsciousness. Something else, then you hear it. A boy is yelling, shouting a name. E-eren.. yes that must be it. He’s calling out to Eren, whoever that is. But you can hear another voice

“We can’t die hear..can we Armin? You were the one who told me about it, that’s why I want to go.. outside.” Is that Eren speaking?

The other voice yells out for Eren to hurry then you hear a snap. He’s screaming now. You don’t think you’ll ever get that sound out of your head. You don’t want to open your eyes now. Afraid of what you’ll see. All that it sounds like is around you is death. Always death. Why is this world so cruel...?

How long have you been laying there.. feels like days. The chaos that’s happening now, can’t have been before the last thing you remember. Which is your father striking you for stealing a piece of bread. After that, everything went dark. If he’d fed you, maybe you’d have behaved. But that night it was raining. How long have you been outside even, since he struck you cold in the kitchen?

You slowly pry open your eyes. You can see the sky and smoke. It’s cloudy. You sit up and see a grey haired man standing ahead and he’s .. he’s definitely not a man. That’s a Titan. There’s Titans on this side of the wall? But how? Where’d that boy who was yelling go? Maybe the Titan got him. Probably got Eren first.

It looks at you, and instead of fear you just feel empty. So this is it? Ok. Better a Titan then your own father. After all he hates you for everything that happened with your mother. No reason to breathe anymore. Finally a release from this reality.

You stand up and hold your arms out to the Titan. You’d rather not die but what’s the point in trying to fight something like this. Born with a frail body how could you do anything? The Titan starts to walk towards you. Closing your eyes you wait.

But you feel hot liquid splatter your face. You look up at see a hand has broken out from inside the oldy Titan. The Titan falls forward, the wind making your hair rush back with force. The Titans back is rippling.. and tearing. More blood spatters on you as a Titan breaks out of the fallen one. Looking up at, you watch it as it roars. You can feel it’s emotions, how it sounds. So angry, and definitely not ready to die.

This is the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen. Are you crazy for thinking that? Yes beyond crazy. After all it’s a Titan. Behind you you can hear another Titan approaching. But you can’t turn around as you watch the beautiful Titian stomp on the head of the old one.

The steaming blood is dripping from you as it coats you with each lift and stomp. The Titan from behind you walks past you to attack the other one. It didn’t even go for you. None of them except oldy. You watch as the newcomer easily dies by the hands of the angry one.

After they’re dead the Titan begins to leave, you decide to follow it. In awe you run as fast as you can to keep up with it. Your lungs burn but you can’t bring yourself to leave it. You watch as it saves some cadet with a red scarf. Killing the Titans around her. A boy swoops down and grabs her bringing her to a rooftop.

There’s another cadet waiting for them. But you can’t hear what they’re saying. You just keep following your Titan. And it seems the cadets think he’s safe and follow too. You remember watching the scouts leave for the outside the wall missions. But your mom said they were playing a losing game. And she was right each time they came back with fewer people who’d died for a game they lost anyways. But your brother loved the thought of fighting for a world his sister could be at peace in. So he joined the scouts.

All that came back, was his hand. The ring he got from you for his birthday one year on it. That’s how you knew it was him. You were home alone that day when a captain by the name Levi Ackerman showed up. And said he failed to save him. From what you knew he wasn’t a very emotional man and didn’t do these types of things. But he’d been to a few family dinners. Don’t know how your brother got him to go. So you assumed he needed to give your family some closure. Or to help his own.

After that day everything in your household was dark. Your mother always laying in bed. Your father trying to do his best but ended up passed out drunk on the sofa anyways. And you, left to cook, clean, and do the shopping. When it came time to feed your mother, she’d always yell and tell you she wished it were you who’d died. After all you could barley mange to lift a full laundry basket. Born with unusually smaller bones, small lungs, and a weak immune system.

“Why couldn’t the useless one die” she’d say. Though you never cried. Because it was just grieving, that’s all. Right? And then one night she died and your father blamed you for that. And eventually it was your fault for everything. Levi didn’t visit anymore, which was okay. You didn’t want him to know how your father was doing or what happened to your mother. What if Levi hated you too if he’d found out.

Even though you know this Titan isn’t doing this to protect you, or anything like that. You just can’t shake the feeling that it’s special that it’s not just an abnormal. For some reason you want to protect it. It’s the only thing that’s ever saved you. Even if it was unintentional. This Titan has done more for you then your own parents, so you’ll return the favor. If need be you feel like you’d die for him.

You watch as he finishes off the rest of the Titans, then falls. I-is he going to die? You question yourself, no it can’t take him out that easily.. wait there’s a boy. Attached to the nape of the Titan. You see the girl cadet and the yellow haired boy land near him. They hug him and cry. For reasons unknown to you, you feel jealous. Maybe because you don’t have anything like that. The last person to hug you was Captain Levi. The day he told you of your brothers unfortunate death. But it felt hollow, like it was just custom. Not heartfelt.

You don’t even realize that your feet have taken you up to where they’ve brought that boy. From where your hidden you can see the lines underneath his eyes. But he doesn’t need to have his eyes open for you to know he was your Titan. This situation, from the looks of it they probably thought he’d died.

Then you get it, you remember hearing yelling. “Eren” that was the name. That boy must be Eren, he must’ve transformed in the belly of that old Titan. Probably for the first time in his life. He’s almost like a werewolf, you’d read about those in fairytales.

“Hey you what’re you doing here?” You hear a stern voice ask. You look to see a boy with mean look on his face. Kinda looks like a horse you think to yourself.

“Well?” He asks you.

“U-uhm I was..” you stutter, you can feel your cheeks are pink. You feel like you just got caught doing something scandalous.

“You should have gone to safety, when you had the chance” says horse boy.

“Uh I never really had that chance.” You tell him

The yellow haired boy looks to you, he recognizes you.

“Jean, I’ve seen them before.” He says.

Jean looks at him dumbfounded

“What, where? What are they supposed to be one of us?” He questions the yellow haired boy.

“No, I saw that they were laying on the ground near where Eren was- where he was.. eaten. I thought they were already dead.” He explains. You blush a bit, but you don’t blame him you’re sure you look incredibly horrid.

Jean looks to you, his gaze traveling up and down. He makes a disgusted face. Plugs his nose and backs up.

“Pew it really stinks.” He complains backing away.

“I’m sorry” you look down at you boots “I was passed out and when I woke up, a Titan was walking towards me and then, out popped another Titan. Then he started killing all the Titans so I followed him.” You say quickly. Keeping most of your reasons to yourself for why you followed Eren in the first place.

If the yellow haired boy hadn’t approached you he wouldn’t have heard anything you just said. You do smell and Armin know that smell. Titan blood it may disappear but to him it leaves a scent... of death.

“Oh, well are you okay? We should get a first aid kit, you’ve got some scrapes and such. Oh and my names Armin Arlert.” He says to you.

“I-oh .. uhm I’m y/f/n. And i think I’ll be alright, how is Eren.?” You say. You look to the sleeping boy. He looks distraught and anything but peaceful. Just pure exhaustion. You imagine transforming into an actual Titan is extremely taxing on his body. Especially if it was his first time transforming. What if all Titans are human or what if they were once, upon another time...

“I wish i could say it’s nice to meet you but under the circumstances it could be better. Well she’s Mikasa Ackerman, and that’s Eren Jaeger. Eren seems to be ok, though that’s right now. He’s in danger, all the corps will see him as a threat. We have to find a way to convince them he’s an asset to humanity.” Armin explains.

You keep your gaze locked on Eren. If they try to hurt him you’ll barricade his body with your own if it comes down to it. Armin is right mostly. Asset isn’t the word you’d use for Eren, but you don’t think they’ll be calling him a savior any time soon.

The wind blows lightly causing Erens hair to sway from his face a bit. He really is handsome you think to yourself. You wonder if his eyes are green like his Titan, and if his attitude as brave as the Titan. He seems stubborn already. You can’t wait till he wakes up.

Authors notes:

👌Okay okay okay this is a good end to part one right? To be honest this was going to be a one shot with Armin, which will happen but then I got carried away and started to dream a bit more for this. Hope you enjoyed and follow my blog for prt two in the Beauty and the Titan series. ����

Please don’t forget to reblog and share! 💖

Don’t copy my work please!

[cafedanslanuit]

Home || Jumin x MC - One shot

genre: angst, some fluff.

summary: You are staying at Jaehee’s after Jumin did something that made you really angry. While staying there, you start feeling sick and end up at the hospital. What you first thought was nothing to worry about, quickly turns into a nighmare that could change your relationship.

warnings: not graphic, but the story discusses blood and miscarriage

You weren’t really broken up.

Not really. Your things were still at the penthouse and you really weren’t planning on picking them up, but you were still mad at him. Until you could work those feelings out, the best way to avoid your boyfriend for a while. Thankfully, Jaehee had been kind enough to let you crash on her couch. It wasn’t really uncomfortable, but it smelt funny. You thought it was because of Jaehee’s habit of snacking while watching Zen’s musicals. Maybe there were some crumbles between the pillows, because every time you woke up, you were so disgusted by the smell it made your head twirl.

You loved Jumin. You really did, but you couldn’t help being so angry with him. You wanted you go to the penthouse, talk to him about what happened and fix things up, but you knew you couldn’t do this if you were still as angry and resentful as you were. You needed a couple of days away to melt down your rage and also to teach Jumin the weight of his actions.

That day, you were having breakfast on the kitchen table as you read some news on your Twitter feed. Jaehee had already gone to C&R, asking you if you wanted to send Jumin a message. You knew it wasn’t she didn’t want you there, but she had mentioned Jumin looked restless, more irritated and didn’t have the capacity to focus as much as he did before. You told her, yet again, you didn’t have anything to tell him. She nodded, pursing her lips and went to work.

When you finished eating breakfast, you decided to help a little by cleaning the house. You put on your headphones and started sweeping the living room. Just as you were almost done with it, a known song started playing, making you stop your movements to listen to it. Obviously Je Te Veux by Erik Satie had to come up on your playlist while you were trying your best at being mad with the man who had presented that song to you. 

“Fuck you, Jumin Han” you muttered as you started sweeping more angrily than before.

You knew he hadn’t meant to hurt you, but he had. You knew it was part of his work, but maybe it shouldn’t be anymore. Or maybe… maybe you could adapt to it? You didn’t know what was the right answer. And when you knew it, you would return to Jumin’s apartment, if he’d still have you. A knot formed on your throat. Yeah, he would take you back. You were sure.

Almost sure.

As you were done with sweeping, you started cleaning the bathroom. That was when you first felt wetness between your legs. You checked the date and realized it was your period. Thankfully, Jaehee’s bathroom was equipped with pads, so you had no problem with washing your panties and putting a pad on a fresh pair. You kept doing the cleaning, thankfully not having any cramps yet. Half an hour later, you went to the kitchen, where you started washing all the dishes and putting everything in its place. You went to the bathroom again and realized there was a medium sized blood clot resting on your pad. You furrowed your eyebrows. You hadn’t experienced anything like that before, well, at least not a clot that big. It was probably the size of your thumb. You changed pads again, also noticing you were having a heavier period than usual.

You went back to cleaning, but an hour after that, you went to the bathroom again to find yourself in the same situation. This time, you knew something was wrong. But you didn’t like the idea of going to a hospital. Yes, your period was definitely heavier than usual but that didn’t mean it was worth a hospital visit. You changed pads, trying not to notice the clot was bigger this time.

Half an hour later, your pad was fully damped again. You felt like calling Jaehee, but that would mean Jumin would have to know about her hospital visit and you didn’t feel like seeing him in that moment. Especially not in this vulnerable moment. You changed your pad again and stuffed some more in your purse. As you were leaving Jaehee’s apartment, you took out your phone and sent a voice message to Zen, avoiding using the RFA messenger app.

“Hey, I’m… I’m okay but I’m going to the hospital. I’m a little scared?” you laughed nervously, hopping on the elevator. “Uhm, I’m having… how should I put this?”

You forgot how awkward it was for you to talk about your period with someone else. And a part of you thought maybe Zen wasn’t the right person after all. He was, after all, someone who wanted to present himself like a knight in shining armor, waiting to rescue their princess. And princesses didn’t talk about period or blood clots.

But fuck it.

“I’m bleeding a lot heavier than usual. Like, a lot. And I’m scared, so I’m going to the emergency room. Just… please tell me everything’s fine?” you added in a small voice.

You sent the message and hopped on a cab. A few minutes later, you received a text that simply read: “Which hospital?”

----------

“I hate to say this, but maybe you should have gone to that clinic that is a partner of C&R” Zen muttered, letting out a sigh. “They would have called you earlier”

“I hate you for saying that as well” you replied, shifting on your seat.

It had been an hour and a half and you were still on the waiting room and of course, you were still bleeding. It wasn’t the best hospital in town, but you didn’t want to cause a scene in a hospital or clinic C&R had a relationship with. You didn’t want to take the chance of having someone call Jumin and let him know you were there. But you had already gone through two changes already and you were afraid you were going to stain your clothes. 

No, not really. The reason you were starting to freak out was because you knew what could be a cause of heavy bleeding. You didn’t want to think it was an option, but you knew there was a possibility it was a miscarriage. You swallowed thick, not wanting to entertain that option. You were young, even younger than Jumin, it didn’t make sense you were suddenly having a miscarriage. You weren’t even sure you had been pregnant. You couldn’t be-- your period wasn’t even late and you weren’t showing any symptoms of pregnancy, you would have noticed if you--

Suddenly, the memory of waking up to a smelly couch made you tense up. What if it really wasn't smelly? What if it was some sort of mild morning sickness? And maybe your bleeding was not actually your period, just an horrid coincidence on that day your body had decided to have a miscarriage. You felt your knee going up and down, not being able to do anything about it.

“MC” Zen insisted. “I can’t take this anymore, we need to go to St. Claire’s. I know it’s owned by C&R but there’s a reason the trust-fund kid always goes there, they treat him like royalty. And you’re whiter than when we first got here. I don’t know what’s going on with you but please, at least let a doctor see you. We need to get out of here” he insisted.

“No. They’re gonna call me any moment now”

“Fuck, MC…” Zen sighed, a hand going through his hair. “I don’t know what happened between you and Jumin, but this is your health that’s at stake. So, listen to me”.

Would Jumin take you back now that you were probably having a miscarriage? Would he blame her? Of course it-- it wasn’t her fault if that was the case but… how would he take it? Would he close himself, not letting her be a part of the grieving? Would he send her back, not wanting to be reminded of having lost his unborn child every time he looked at her?

You realized you were crying when you felt Zen taking your hand into his. You quickly wiped your face with the back of your hand, trying to hide how scared you actually were.

“Jumin, I’m with MC at the hospital downtown” you turned your head quickly at Zen’s voice and shook your head, trying to make him stop. “We’ve been waiting too long for a doctor, but…” you unsuccessfully tried to take away his phone. “Stop” Zen warned you. He went back to his phone call, “We’re going to St. Claire’s, tell them MC is on the way and she needs a doctor right now”.

Zen made a pause while you hid your face on your hands, hating how the situation had gone out of control. “Yes, send an ambulance. She’s not critical but she’s too weak for me to take her on my motorcycle”. Zen hung up his phone and helped her stand up, leaving the emergency room and heading towards the hospital entrance.

“Why would you do that?” you complained, taking your arm away from Zen, but still walking alongside him. “I told you I didn’t want him involved in this!”

“Look, babe, sorry but I wished you could look at yourself. You’re really pale, you’re losing more and more blood and while I hate that Jumin practically bought a clinic just so he didn’t have to wait, I don’t care if it means you’re getting that treatment too”.

You sighed and nodded, defeated. You were surprised you hadn’t felt dizzy or felt any sort of pain since all this nightmare had started. You just felt anxious about the possible miscarriage you could be having. 

Ten minutes later, an ambulance from St. Claire’s clinic arrived at the front of the hospital. You reluctantly entered the ambulance, the paramedics asking you thousand of questions and already connecting you to some machines to see how you were doing. Zen told you he was going to follow the ambulance with his motorcycle, only obtaining a nod as an answer from you.

You explained your situation to the paramedics, who asked you to lay down so you could rest until you arrived to the clinic. There was a woman who had the softest voice and assured you you were doing just fine, but they could see what was exactly the problem once you arrived to the clinic. She kept trying to engage in conversation with you, trying to ease your mind about everything.

“Is it… a miscarriage?” you asked in a soft voice. The woman pursed her lips and you felt yourself breaking a little.

“We don’t know yet. We’ll know once we get there, don’t worry” she said.

She kept talking, trying to ease you but you couldn’t listen anything further than they didn’t know if you was losing your child or not. You didn’t care about anything else.

Before you thought, the ambulance came to a stop and when they opened the doors, you recognized the two tall men standing in front on the ambulance, one with black hair the the other one with silver hair.

You escaped from Jumin’s gaze, but perfectly heard him questioning the paramedics what was wrong with you. You didn’t understand a lot of what they were saying, but you did get to hear “gynecorrhagia”. What a wonderful way to put a name to something just so they didn’t have to say they didn’t know what caused it.

The paramedics helped you sit on a wheelchair and you were rushed into the clinic. Not even a minute later, you were in front of the gynecologist office. You heard the nurse explain to Zen and Jumin that he was the head of the Gynecology Department, and that they were prepping the room for you. You heard your boyfriend make further questions but even though his tone was firm and stern, you could tell how his voice wavered just a bit on the end of his sentences. He was scared. Maybe because he also knew what it could mean?

“The doctor’s ready for you” you head the nurse say to you, making you snap your head to her direction, startled. You nodded and you felt her wheeling you to the office. You looked around, seeing you were in a small hall rather than an office. You were helped out of your chair and once again, you felt yourself completely wet with blood. The nurse guided you to a small bathroom and gave you a hospital robe, instructing you to change into it.

Once in the bathroom, you took the chance of cleaning yourself up before changing into the robe. You looked at yourself in the mirror and realized Zen was right: you were in fact very pale. You washed your hands thoroughly and got out of the bathroom, where the nurse was waiting for you.

“I’m scared of staining these” you confessed, following the nurse to another door, presumably the actual doctor’s office.

“Don’t be, please. You’re going through a hard time, don’t think about that. Besides, those are disposable” she explained with a soft smile. You smiled back. “Do you wish anyone to accompany you inside the office?” she asked, before opening the door.

In that situation, honestly you couldn’t think why it was even an option. There was only one person you wanted by your side in that moment.

When you entered the office, the doctor smiled warmly at you and showed you to the examination gurney. She started asking you questions about everything, her soothing voice calming your nerves. You heard a knock on the door and then the nurse’s voice announcing Jumin was there. Thanking the gurney was not in front of the door and you were covered from shoulders to knees, you turned your head towards the door, looking at an awkward Jumin standing there, waiting for an indication.

“Hey” you muttered softly. Jumin looked at you, and for the first time, you could see how scared he was. He was doing his best at trying to hide it, but the way his legs were shifting his weight and how he was incessantly twisting his own fingers gave him away. “Come here” you said, holding out a hand for him. He walked to you, standing on your side while the doctor turned on one of her machines and put on a pair of gloves. Jumin took your hand and you squeezed it, trying to calm both of you.

The doctor warned you, but you still felt some discomfort when you felt the head of the ultrasound scanner entering you. You saw some incomprehensible black and white figures on the screen, wondering if you were supposed to see something.

“Well, I don’t see anything” she commented, making you heart sink.

“I lost it?” you quickly asked, your voice breaking down. Your hold on Jumin’s hand tightened and so did his, but you couldn’t bear to look at him in the eye yet.

“Lost? No, don’t worry. You didn’t have a miscarriage. The blood they took from you on the ambulance shows you weren’t pregnant at all” she explained. You felt your soul return to your body and pulled Jumin’s hand in front of your mouth, pressing light kisses to the back of his hand, whispering soft nothings, almost like a thankful prayer.

“So why did she…?” Jumin asked, his voice more neutral now.

“It was probably an hormonal imbalance” the doctor said, removing carefully the scanner. “Right now I’m going to ask for some IV for her so the bleeding stops. Then we’re going to do an exam on her hormonal levels so we can recommend some medicine in case she needs it”.

“Just like that? She’s… okay? She’s been bleeding all morning” Jumin interfered. You knew he did it out of worry, like a part of him wanted to be entirely sure you were healthy.

“The woman’s body is full or mysteries, Mr. Han” the doctor commented. “I’ve seen this before. In most women’s, is a once in a lifetime scenario, and they never present that problem again. Some may not even need medicine on the long run, but I’m still going to order every exam I can think of so we make sure she’s completely fine” she assured him.

You turned around and looked at Jumin, who still didn’t look convinced.

“Jumin” you said, his eyes looking right into yours. “I’m okay. You can rest now”. He pressed a kiss on the top of your forehead while you kissed his hand again. You felt incredibly happy to have him by your side, knowing you hadn’t lost anything and neither of you were going through that kind of pain.

The doctor excused herself, leaving the room as she gave the nurse some instructions you thought were about the IV she had mentioned.

“When the IV’s done… I want to come back to the penthouse” you said softly, looking at Jumin’s hand. You felt him chuckle and softly moved your chin so you could look at him. God, why did he have to look so handsome?

“Yes, of course. We’ll return home after this”

You felt your cheeks heating at the thought of the penthouse being ‘home’ for both of them.

“But…” you started. You smile on Jumin’s face wavered a little, but still let you continue. “I still don’t like when those women flirt at you. I know it’s part of your job and I know it’s not like you flirt with them, but it still hurt when I saw that woman with her hand on your arm, trying to gain something”

“I used to do that. A lot, I… I always let women invested in the corporate world to flirt with me when there was something for C&R to gain. I would, at best, use some gentleman mannerisms to keep that going. But I don’t think that’s something I want to keep doing” Jumin stated. He brought closer both of your hands and kissed the back of your hand, making you smile. “I’ve already told you I want to marry you. I agreed to your request about waiting at least a year before I officially ask you, but I can’t see how I would change my mind. With each day that goes by, I am only reassured with my desire to make you my wife. But I didn’t take your feelings into consideration with the way I used to run deals. I like to believe I’ve made my work known in C&R enough to stop using antique ways to make deals go through instead of trusting my negotiating abilities. MC, I can promise I won’t do that again”.

“Thank you” you smiled. “Now, please kiss me”

Jumin didn’t wait long before bending down and kissing you softly on the lips. Not being able to kiss that man for almost two weeks was definitely torture, not something you’d ever want to be without again. You were five months into the year you had asked Jumin to wait, but if he kept being such an extraordinary man like this, you were seriously thinking about cutting that time in half.

Once he stood up again, you noticed a playful smile on his lips.

“Now that you mention it, you called Zen before calling me?” he asked, arching one eyebrow.

“Hey, want me to go back to Jaehee’s?” you threatened playfully, making him chuckle.

The nurse returned to the room and helped you stand up, giving you a fresh robe for you to change.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Better” you admitted. You looked back at Jumin and smiled. “But right now I just want to go home”.

[victoria-daydreams]

Till Kingdom Come

Chapter One: My Story Is Much Too Sad to be Told

AN: I’m fairly shocked at the reception this story got, I didn’t expect to gain immediate attraction because I posted it at like 3am lol. Nonetheless, I am grateful to all the people who read this story. Once again, this chapter is dark as well. I promise this whole story is not going to be doom and gloom, but it feels inappropriate to even try to glaze over the cruel treatment of slaves in America and to be honest, this chapter is probably just a glimpse of what real life slaves were put through.

Word Count: 3.1k

Trigger Warnings: slavery, violence, physical/mental abuse, racism, racial slurs

Chapter Two: Life Being What It Is

That was seventeen years ago.

Sabine's life had changed for the "better", at least that's what Mistress Genevieve would try to convince her as such. Sabine certainly didn't see it that way, she was still a slave, after all. Not to mention, that the Martin family has for all intents and purposes, mentally and physically scarred her for the rest of her life.

Sabine was fucking miserable on the Martin Plantation.

From the moment Sabine arrived on the plantation as a child, she became something of a pet project to Genevieve. She taught Sabine arithmancy, how to read, write, and to speak proper English and French. This was not out of kindness though, no, this was a source of derision. Whenever Genevieve would host any type of social gathering, Sabine would find herself being paraded around by her Mistress to her guests.

She despised the gatherings with every fiber of her being, she was subjected to the most degrading comments by the party goers.

"Dear me, I didn't know negros had the capacity to learn how to read,"

"Genevieve, you must have the patience of a saint to be willing to teach a member of an illiterate species,"

"You taught the monkey to read and write? What's next Genevieve, music?"

This is what Sabine had been put through for as long as she could remember. Every time she learned and mastered something new, Sabine knew what was to come. She hated the fact that accomplishing something a white person could do was met with oohs and awws in the most mocking fashion from Genevieve's friends. Sabine remembered one night that word had spread at a party that she was fluent in French and for the rest of night she was bombarded with requests of ‘saying something in French’. She felt like an animal in a zoo and she knew that's how most people viewed her in the first place.

"Teach anymore parlor tricks to your pet Genevieve?"

Sabine would internally scowl every time she witnessed Genevieve be lavished in praise by her friends for her work. Isn't it sweet? The benevolent mistress bestowing an education to a lowly slave like herself. The Southern Belle, extending her graciousness to one of her lowliest effects.

Oh, but Sabine would find little ways to carry out her revenge especially as she grew older and was given tasks that held more responsibility. Her favorite way, "accidentally" pulling her mistress' corset too tight or "accidentally" stabbing her in the scalp with hairpins. Her yelps of pain would bring a ghost of smile to Sabine's lips which would instantly vanish if Genevieve turned around to scold her for her carelessness. And of course Sabine would offer a quick apology, telling her mistress that she didn't mean to and will be more mindful in the future. But the second Genevieve left the room, Sabine would let out a snicker only to be popped in the back of the head by Alice, the woman, who's in charge in keeping the rest of the slaves in order.

The blow was not out of malice, further from that really, it was out of love and concern. Alice had been like a mother figure to Sabine since the day she arrived on the plantation.

"One day the Mistress is not going to put up with your 'mistakes'," Alice warned, worry was evident in her eyes.

It wasn't until Sabine would turn sixteen the following year that Alice's warning would finally sink in for her. The most ironic thing about it was the fact that it didn't happen because of one of Sabine's mischievous acts, it happened because of the wandering eyes of Genevieve's husband, Aaron Martin. What's even more ironic, is that Master Martin didn't even want Sabine in the house at first, he wanted to make her a field hand. Genevieve convinced him otherwise, saying that she would be malleable and make the perfect, obedient slave since she had no attachments on their plantation.

She was wrong.

The decision to keep Sabine as a house slave would be one that Genevieve would come to regret, but only out of wounded pride. Sabine, on the other hand, longed for freedom and was desperate to escape the growing tension between Genevieve and Master Martin. She doubted that they knew how many times she fantasized about running away from the plantation. It was more than once as each day passed.

She had good reason to as well, Sabine had noticed that the mistress had been short-tempered with her as of late. And that was never more evident on one fateful day, where everything in Sabine's life seemed to further spiral out of what little control she had.

Sabine wiped down the top of the fireplace on the far wall of the parlor room, humming to herself.

"What's that song?"

Sabine stumbled in surprise of hearing Master Martin's voice, his French accent only slightly there. Pushing away from the fireplace, she tightened her grip around the rag in her hands as she stood at attention. His thin lips were curled up into a smile, a smile that Sabine was sure he thought would put her at ease, it didn't. Matter of fact, the expression had the exact opposite effect, Sabine thought his smile looked like a wound opening. Everything about the forty-five year old man unnerved her, Master Martin had a complexion that teetered between being pale and matte, short, dark brown hair sat on top of his oblong head. His long face made his humped nose prominent, but the most terrifying feature on his face was those piercing gray orbs.

It was the eyes of a predator stalking its prey.

Bowing her head in apology, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you, Master," Sabine apologized, vowing not to hum again.

"You didn't disturb me. What is that song?"

It's something that her mother would sing to her when she was younger. Sabine couldn't remember the words to the song, but she knew how the tune went, it was the only piece of her mother that she had left of her.

Shaking her head, "I don't know," Sabine lied remorselessly.

Instead of letting her get back to her work, Master Martin just continued staring at Sabine, it made her flesh crawl. His eyes traveled from her face before letting them roam down to her neck and then onto her chest. This had become increasingly normal behavior for Master Martin, each week it seemed like he managed to find her alone and just study her figure. His eyes would always linger on her breasts, and that was what made Sabine most uncomfortable in his presence.

Master Martin leaned against the door frame, "You've been filling out your dress quite nicely as of late Cecile," he commented, now looking at slim waist and then her hips as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

Sabine had to swallow down the bile she felt that might escape her mouth.

"Cecile!" Genevieve's shrill voice called from down the hall. "Cecile! Where are you, you daft girl?!" she yelled, as she stopped right beside her husband. "Aaron, dear, what are you looking-" she began, but cut herself off when she followed her husband's leering gaze. Genevieve's expression hardened and she narrowed her eyes at Sabine, pressing her lips together into a thin line. She stormed over to Sabine and came to a stop in front of her.

"Mistress I-" Sabine started, but Genevieve's hand whipped out and struck her hard across the face. Sabine's head snapped to the side and she lowered her stare to the floor, her breath uneven as she rubbed her cheek.

It was the hardest slap she had ever received.

"You stupid girl! Why are you distracting the Master?" she demanded, glowering at Sabine. "Get out of here and get back to work!" she ordered, her rising temper reflected in her face.

"Yes Mistress," Sabine replied, quickly bowing her head as tears began to well up in her eyes.

"And didn't I tell you to cover that horrid hair of yours? The sight of it is revolting!"

Genevieve had never once demanded Sabine to cover her hair, not until that day. But from that day on, Sabine wore a headscarf religiously to cover her head. Sabine figured that Genevieve's thought process probably fell along the lines of, if Sabine's hair wasn't visible then she'd become less attractive. It was a flawed logic that did nothing of the sort, much to Genevieve's and Sabine's dismay. So, for Sabine, the physical and mental abuse she received from Genevieve increased on a scale that she never experienced before.

The days of Sabine just being a pet to show off to Genevieve's friends to poke fun at her, were long gone.

Genevieve now saw Sabine as competition for Master Martin's attention. Attention that Sabine never wanted in the first place, Genevieve could keep her disgusting husband all to herself for all she cared. But of course, Genevieve would never see it Sabine's way, no, somehow Sabine's at fault for Master Martin's lustful stares.

Things only seemed to get progressively worse for Sabine as the years passed and her body continued to mature. Not only did she draw the unwanted attention from her perverted master, but she unfortunately also captured the eldest son's attention, Marc. He was almost a spitting image of his father, but was by far, worse than him. He's actually touched her in inappropriate ways, too many times for Sabine to recall. At least Master Martin just stared at her, although Sabine was sure that one day he might begin touching her as well, her worst fear was that he would flat out rape her.

Lord knows, Marc had been working his way up to it.

Sabine noticed that he had become increasingly aggressive as of late. And that frightened her to no end. She remembered one time after a dinner party she had to serve in the parlor room where the male guests were playing cards. She had just finished serving a round of drinks to Marc's table and the way he decided to thank her was to roughly squeeze her ass with a disingenuous smile. This action made the men at the table roar with laughter, but all Sabine could feel was mortification.

She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry in the corner of the small shack that she called home.

Sabine wanted to believe that the abuse she was suffering could not get any worse, she thought wrong. For, not only was she terrorized by the Martin's, but Marc's arrogant, smug college friends who often visited the plantation, partook in her torment as well. They would whisper things in her ears that no upstanding, God-fearing gentlemen would ever say to a white woman.

And for having such a supposed repulsion and violent reaction to someone of her complexion, white men sure seem to fancy negro flesh. It was confusing, yet terrifying realization. How could you hate and treat someone with so much scorn, but at the same time want to sleep with them?

Sabine's worst experience with one of Marc's friends was that he managed to corner her and forceful stick his hand up her dress, grabbing her thigh, luckily his hand wasn't able to go any higher thanks to one Alain Martin.

The only kind-hearted Martin in the family.

Alain, the curly headed and bright blue-eyed boy who always had a boyish grin on his face. He actually treated Sabine and the other slaves on the plantation like actual human beings, showing them dignity and respect, something that was completely foreign to them. Sabine wondered how the cruelty that Alain's family gleefully inflicted on the slaves didn't corrupt him and make him turn out like them. Maybe it was because Alain had actually questioned his surroundings as a child and didn't simply just accept what his mother and father told him as fact. She could recall many times Alain saying, ‘that doesn't seem right’ as a child.

And as Alain grew older, he continued to challenge his parents on the practice of slavery, prompting several arguments and debates, especially when it was dinnertime. Sabine had been a witness to quite a few of the shouting matches that would erupt at the table between Alain and Master Martin, Alain would also go at it with his older brother. Marc claimed, 'that because of the negro skull size all they were capable of was menial work and that white people were justified for enslaving them. With no one to oversee the negroes, they would hurt themselves'. This claim only enraged Alain further and Sabine as well.

Sabine had more knowledge in her pinky, than Marc's thick skull.

She pitied Alain, he had become the black sheep of the family. He attended college in the North and his views against slavery had only become stronger. He was an unapologetic abolitionist, which of course was completely the opposite of what his family believed. There would be many times that Sabine found herself listening to Alain as he vented out his frustrations about his family. She didn't mind, because that's what friends do, you let them vent.

However, it was not always like this, the bond they shared now as young adults would seem unimaginable to Sabine when she was younger.

Sabine and Alain had spent a lot of time together as children, but not because she wanted to, at first. The only reason she and Alain were in close proximity all the time, was the fact that she was tasked with fanning him while he had lessons with his tutor. Sabine resented him, they were only two years apart and yet here she was fanning him like he was some type of king. She was cold towards him (as respectfully as possible) and it went on like that for a couple of months, until Alain decided to speak to her when his tutor went inside the house.

"Pssst, Cecile, do you know how to say this word?" he asked, pointing to a word in his book.

Internally, Sabine arched a brow, she didn't know if he was asking out of genuine curiosity or to mock her.

"No sir," she answered, her grip tightening on the fan at the fact that she had to address a fellow child as 'sir'.

"You didn't even look," he argued softly, looking up at her. "Come on, I know you're smart, probably smarter than me," he added, moving the book closer to her eyes.

"Don't let the master and mistress hear that," Sabine remarked mindlessly, before freezing at what she let slip from her mouth.

Sabine expected to hear Alain run from his seat and tell his parents what she said, instead she heard giggles.

"You're funny Cecile," he commented, shaking his head.

A breath of relief left Sabine and she craned her neck, "What's the word, sir?" she asked, her eyes scanning the ink on the page.

"This one," he replied, pointing to the third word on the page.

Sabine nodded her head, "It's glaciers, sir," she said, before looking at Alain.

"Thank you Cecile," he smiled, bringing the book closer to him again.

"Your welcome sir,"

"Alain," he corrected.

"What, sir?" Sabine asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Call me Alain,"

And from that day forward, to some extent a friendship was born. The breaks in between Alain's lessons where his tutor wasn't present, were the only time that the two of them could really speak to each other. Alain did most of the talking, he told Sabine things he probably wasn't supposed to and if his mother ever found what Alain told her, Sabine was sure that Genevieve would just about faint. Sabine on the other hand, was much more reserved on what she was willing to tell Alain. She never told him anything personal, just mainly what she did each day. Sabine was afraid of telling Alain something that could somehow finds its way back to Genevieve. But, as years passed and they slowly matured, Sabine finally felt that she trusted Alain enough to tell him her real name when they were fourteen.

She hadn't heard the name Cecile since.

It was a friendship of secrecy, but that didn't mean Alain wouldn't try to protect Sabine as best he could. Alain could do it overtly, like he done with Marc's friend by yanking him away from Sabine and punching him square in the jaw. Other times, he would opt for more subtle ways that were just as effective. Remember the assault that Sabine suffered in the parlor room? Well, Alain was a witness to his older brother's molesting of her.

Alain strode over to Marc, appearing as though he was going to tell him off, which for Sabine's sake, she hoped he wasn't. It would only lead to further humiliation of her in some sort of fashion and probably Alain as well. Alain approached the table where his brother was playing cards when he suddenly tripped over his feet. Sabine watched in almost awe as the champagne flew in the air before raining down all over Marc, soaking his hair and a part of his evening jacket and dress shirt.

Marc's face turned beet red.

Sabine had to force herself to keep a neutral face, for a grin was threatening to form on her lips followed by uncontrollable laughter.

"You clumsy idiot!" Marc exclaimed, venom laced in his insult.

Alain didn't seem affected by the remark, "I'm so sorry brother," he apologized, without the faintest hint of sincerity in his eyes. "I'll go get some towels for you," he offered, before turning to look at Sabine. "Will you escort me? I would hate for my clumsiness to resort in another mess," he explained, and Sabine nodded.

"Of course sir," she stated, and led Alain out the parlor room.

Once they were in the hallway and out of view from everyone, Alain grabbed Sabine's wrist and pulled her along to the bustling sounds of the kitchen. Entering the room, Alain let go of her wrist and the two of them stared at each other before bursting out in laughter. Sabine felt tears forming in her eyes and used the back of her finger to wipe it away.

"You're going to get an earful from your mother Alain," Sabine warned, with a breathless laugh.

"I don't give a damn," Alain declared, a proud grin on his lips. "Marc deserved it," he added, nodding his head.

Sabine leaned back against the counter, "You didn't have to do that for me," she said, looking over to her friend.

"No," Alain disagreed, vigorously shaking his head. "I had to, Sabine," he corrected, his expression turning serious. "Marc assaulted you. He humiliated you," he continued, his hands bawling up into fists. "Humiliation in return, it was the least I could do," Alain explained, and Sabine ran her hand up and down his arm soothingly. "I know it won't erase what was done to you Sabine, but I had to do something," he finished, his gaze soft as he looked at her.

"It is a small victory I shall revel in for a long time," Sabine said, placing her hand on top of his shoulder. "Thank you, Alain,"

Chapter Three: Steal Away

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 15: Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

The walls were painted sky blue, the carpet a faded warm brown hinting at many years passing along leaving a permanent tread. The walls were covered in several posters that James didn't recognize of bands, but also several hand done, and extremely accurate, drawings of dragons that someone had magicked to life for this kid, flying around through each others edges.

It was crowded, the sparse bit of walking space nonexistent with the eight of them all in here at once, hardly much bigger than Harry's cupboard; but the love and care that went into this room was evident.

Lily came forward towards a desk crammed into the back corner and brushed her hand against a greyling snoozing, little blue plums of smoke escaping from its pointed head, the back end of which wasn't quite done. It was clear details were still being added of feathers to the long extended tail.

"Well I officially have no clue where we are," Peter muttered. He'd been the lucky one to land on the bed, but he had automatically moved to the edge and crossed his ankles, swinging his feet uncomfortably like he expected the occupant to appear and tell him to take his shoes off.

"Hey, wasn't one of Ron's brothers a dragon trainer or something?" Alice asked, leaning against the door with the book already in her hands.

"Dragon keeper," the older Black corrected with a look of disgust, clearly unable to grasp the concept of why anyone would want such a thing.

"I'm getting the feeling Harry's going to have some interactions with him then," she returned pleasantly, then read out the chapter title.

Black groaned in disgust and shook his shoulders like he was trying to shake off a nat before slouching over to the window and prodding along the edge like he was going to try and jump out.

"He has a thing against dragons," Potter pleasantly informed all of them needlessly.

Regulus frowned in sympathy, but knowing his brother would only snap his head off if he tried to say anything, he instead went back to investigating the picture. He was sure no one else had even noticed it, but he'd landed right in front of what must be the Weasley family.

It sat proudly against the wall, coupled in with so many other pictures of things it probably went unnoticed despite the red haired family. Regulus couldn't take his eyes off of it. He could easily identify the twins, chasing each other around every inch of available grass and weaving in between their fathers legs who was juggling the infant, whatever that little girls name had been, and who must be Ron hanging off his dad's arm to get his attention. The mother had her arms around the last three all at once, and looked exasperated, but the adoring smile on her face showed she wouldn't be anywhere else.

There was no other context, no telling what was going on before or after it was taken, why the kids were all so rambunctious or who had even taken the photo. It simply captured the moment of the one clear thing Charlie enjoyed in his life, the chaos of his family. It was baffling! All Regulus had ever known was the structure of his family tree, the rules and consequences through watching Sirius break those.

The story wasn't progressing with much interest to anyone even when Hagrid arrived. None knew him that well, so maybe he was always shifty when asked a direct question, though the oddity of him being in the school library when he'd never been known there before was keeping their attention. Ron's discovery just made it all click in a despicable way.

"A dragon! That mad gamekeeper has a dragon in his cabin! A Norwegian Ridgeback on top of everything!"

Remus covered his ears for the volume, but still looked more sympathetic than anything for Sirius' screeching.

"If I ever catch that man doing anything of the sort now I'll add him to my list right after I-"

"Alright Padfoot," James easily roped his arm around him to cut off what three just saw as a tantrum. Those who did know could only wince in sympathy with no real words of comfort for this. James kept trying anyways, "there's no dragons here-"

Then he cut off with a wince at his own stupidity as Sirius snorted in disgust and had to fight back the temptation to burn the walls into real fire.

"What's his problem?" Frank muttered to Alice.

"As if I know," she reminded. She was tempted to ask Regulus who clearly knew, but even though she could see his face he hadn't looked away from the wall this whole time, was still making no attempts to reach out and communicate with any of them, and she wasn't going to force her hand.

Lily, honestly felt a bit of pity for this. She'd never stopped to consider any of them with actual fears, human moments like Black was now showing. All she'd ever seen was their likes, one like to be exact, of their horrid ways against her friend. Now she was watching Potter, all three of them try to comfort their friend in by far the kindest thing she'd ever seen.

His mood only worsened when the kids went to Hagrid's, Hagrid only confirmed what none of them were surprised about. It made sense all of the teachers and not just Quirrell would put up some protection for this thing Dumbledore was protecting. No, it just kept going downhill that there was indeed an egg roasting away in Hagrid's fireplace.

"I actually kind of liked the three headed dog, that was cool once it wasn't trying to eat him anymore! The troll was a menace, but at least manageable! Your kid just couldn't stop there Prongs! A dragon, and it's all Hagrid's fault," Sirius kept up his insistent mutter, trying to push the arm away and get the dang window open that no force of magic or willpower was accomplishing. He was boiling up in here, he could swear those little flickers coming from the end of the dragon's nostrils were coming to life and fixing to leap right off the page towards him-

"Breath Pads," Moony was trying to soothe by instead changing the subject. Which actually made Malfoy feel useful for the first time. "Let's focus instead on plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled."

"Why do you think he didn't just run off and tell on them?" Peter did ask curiously. "What does he have to gain by sitting on this information?"

"Don't know," James begrudgingly said, "but it's the first actual intelligent thing he's done. Looking for an advantage rather than just jumping around to get them in trouble."

Regulus looked up and around at them in surprise, it was the first kind thing he'd ever heard them say about a Slytherin. Then he just assumed they were saying it to throw Sirius off, which wasn't really working. He frowned in a bit of concern now as his brother just got more silent and still when the dragon had hatched. His brother had never actually told them what had happened when he'd been left down in the Gringotts vault, but his parents hadn't paid it much concern since he couldn't have gotten inside to any of the importance, like the gold or heirlooms. Regulus had tried to ask, just out of curiosity, but Sirius had completely ignored him.

Now he was more irked than anything he'd clearly told his mates something, the obvious sympathy for him made that clear. He and Sirius may not have been getting on in recent years, but when had that amounted to he couldn't be told anything?

Alice had no liking for the beasts in particular, but the idea of a baby one was more charming than fearsome like Black seemed to find it, so she read on with cute little spirits about Hagrid's handling of this, up until it bit Ron.

"Okay, now we have a problem," Frank winced and took an extra step back from one particular orange faced lizard that had its fangs exposed. He overbalanced and fell on the bed next to Pettigrew, who raised a brow at him but otherwise ignored that.

"Norwegian Ridgebacks are poisonous," Lupin agreed in a still rather forced conversational tone, while his back was to everyone. He had poked his head under the desk curiously, and came back with a tiny little spindle chair which he nudge against Black, who seemed resistant to sitting down anymore than getting away from the window. "Hope he went to Madam Pomfrey, she never asks too many questions."

"I like to think even she'd demand where he got a dragon bite," Alice disagreed.

Lily flushed a bit but chose not to say anything, having personal experience with the matron not asking one to many questions from a few experimental potions accidents, so actually agreeing with one of the Marauders for once.

The decision to contact Charlie and his quick response was the best thing Sirius had heard this whole chapter, they were getting rid of that beast toot sweet! His small moment of happiness didn't last long.

Things only got worse for the kids dealing with this mess when Malfoy still managed to make everything worse. Thankfully the kids didn't derail their plan for this, Sirius had never heard of a better use of their cloak than riding that monster from their grounds! He just couldn't stop his imagination going haywire, that thing growing larger by the moment and getting loose on the grounds and then roaring so loud his ears started bleeding all while trying to shoot fire that just missed him from the tiny alcove he'd managed to squeeze himself into by the grace of Padfoot. That cart trundling away without him in it, his Uncle Cygnus, and Aunt Druella apparently deaf to his calls to come back. He could still swear he saw Bellatrix laughing as she slipped the goblin something when they turned the corner-

He'd been sat down in the chair without his noticing, Remus' hand firmly on his shoulder and smiling kindly down at him. He wasn't sure what he'd been saying, but it suddenly occurred to him that the weeks he'd been having his blowout with Moony had actually been the longest stretch of time he hadn't had to think about that. Even the weekly potions classes with its kindling cauldrons or some scaly beast Professor Kettleburn had brought to class had managed to remind him of the incident all year.

So lost in his mind, he'd completely missed the part where Malfoy had been caught by McGonagall, and he forced a laugh as Moony quietly explained it to him until Charlie's friends arrived. He'd kiss them both for taking this thing away, though just as likely never go within arms reach of anyone mad enough to handle these beasts for a living. "That whole incident was entirely pointless!" Sirius kept up his furious mutterings he'd been carrying this whole time. Alice was honestly impressed he hadn't run out of breath. "What was the point of that I ask you? It certainly could have been left out and saved me-"

So invested was he in his own rantings, he nearly missed the ending horror of Filch discovering them without their cloak. They got not a single second to live in their shock before they were once again torn away.

[darisu-chan]

whatever our souls are made of (his and mine are the same), pt. 22

Hi, welcome back to another installment!

Hope you like this one-shot.

You can also read it here.

See ya!

every day (a brand new day)

Prompt: surprise

 Summary: Rukia decides she wants to surprise Ichigo, not realizing she does that every day.

Rukia wants to surprise Ichigo.

 That is the decision she makes one day out of the blue.

 Although her thought process might not make much sense to an outside observer, it is very clear in her mind.

 Ichigo does a lot for her.

 Every time she visits him, he shows her something new.

 Which is a surprise, basically.

 So the logical conclusion is that if Rukia wants to show appreciation for the things Ichigo does for her, she must surprise him in return.

 Yes.

 There is no other way.

 Or at least that’s how she sees it.

 However, the real question is how she is going to surprise him.

 Ichigo is not really a guy that can be surprised often.

 First of all, he has quick reflexes (a result of Isshin’s good morning fighting routine) and can be very intuitive.

 He can easily sniff out if something’s out of the ordinary.

 If he bothers paying attention, of course.

 Sadly for Rukia, he pays a lot of attention when it comes to her.

 So it would be nearly impossible to plan a long-term surprise for Ichigo.

 Which means that, basically, she must be spontaneous.

 And that is an even bigger problem.

 Because there are not a lot of things out there that could, potentially, surprise Ichigo.

 By now he has a deep understanding of how the Soul Society works.

 As he had explained it, for him is like feudal Japan.

 A society reminiscent of how humans lived hundreds of years ago.

 This means that the most interesting part of the Soul Society for him is Seireitei.

 And he has already seen most of it.

 He has personally met the most influential Shinigami.

 He even hangs out with them.

 Quite frequently, might she add.

 He knows several nobles, including the Kuchiki elders!

 (And that’s as influential as one can get)

 The fact of the matter is that, outside of fighting, life in the Soul Society is not very thrilling.

 It can be very depressing, actually.

 And Rukia wishes her home were as exciting as Karakura is for her.

 That there were newer things to see or places to visit.

 That there were more things that she could show Ichigo.

 She wants to give back to him everything he’s given her.

 She wishes to amaze him.

 To watch his eyes brighten up and a grin spread across his face.

 But this dream seems impossible with the way things are.

 That is, until she catches wind of a new event.

 “The moon festival?” Rukia says out loud.

 “Yes! It’s a new festival being organized on the first district!”

 Kiyone tells her excitedly one day.

 “And what is it about?”

 “I have no idea, but word’s on the street that there will be lots of food and performances! It’s going to be great!”

 On that Rukia can agree.

 There are seldom any festivals in the Soul Society.

 With the exception of the New Year’s Festival and other seasonal festivities.

 But after going to the same event for decades, they do get a tad boring.

 And Ichigo has already experienced them.

 Now, a Moon Festival, on the other hand, is not something Rukia had ever heard of before.

 The idea of trying something new is enticing.

 Yet it doesn’t compare to the feeling it would give her to finally surprise Ichigo with something new.

 Something that could be as fun as everything he shows her constantly.

 She’s now got a plan.

 Thankfully Kiyone gives her all the details she needs.

 The date and place and time.

 All that is now needed is for Ichigo to agree to come.

 Asking him to come to the Soul Society is easy.

 It was his turn to visit her anyway.

 Tricking him into thinking there’s nothing going on turns out to be more difficult.

 Rukia has to insist several times that they’ve got no plans that day.

 While simultaneously making sure he doesn’t make plans with anybody else.

 Thankfully it doesn’t occur to him to go out with his other friends or anything.

 That Saturday morning he simply goes to train as always, giving Rukia enough time to set her plans into motion.

 She lays out a new kimono for him in his room at the Kuchiki Manor and leaves him a note telling him to meet her by the gate at 7 pm.

 Ichigo does as he is asked and goes to the gate wearing deep blue robes, which coincidentally match her own kimono.

 “Rukia, what’s going on? Where are we going?” He questions.

 “You’ll see.”

 That’s her cryptic reply.

 He is clearly intrigued but she doesn’t say anything else.

 And so, she guides him till they reach the festival.

 When they get there, it’s not what Rukia expected at all.

 For starters, there is a lot of yelling but not the kind you would expect from a festival.

 This is angry yelling.

 There’s trash everywhere.

 The food vendors are trying to scam passersby.

 The audience is booing the actors and dancers trying to perform.

 There are hungry children asking for food, but getting ignored.

 Some people even kick the poor away so they don’t ask them for money.

 Even worse, Rukia can see Shinigami acting haughty towards other souls.

 In short, it is a mess.

 It is definitely not the delightful scenery she was hoping for.

 It displays out in the open all the terrible things about the Soul Society.

 All the inequality.

 The discrimination.

 It tastes bitter in her mouth.

 And she suddenly remembers.

 What it felt like being poor and unable to get a meal.

 How it felt when adults mistreated you.

 And how scary Shinigami can be for young souls.

 On her right, Ichigo looks as disgusted as she feels.

 He furrows his brow and glares at all the Shinigami trying to intimidate other souls.

 This is not a festival.

 It is barely an event.

 It is a travesty.

 A demonstration of how down in the dumps is everything outside of Seireitei.

 A reminder about the inner workings of the Soul Society.

 And this is just the first district.

 Where life is mostly good.

 Rukia doesn’t want to imagine how a festival may go down in Inuzuri.

 But she has seen enough.

 “Let’s go, Ichigo.”

 She tells her companion and the two walk away.

 She is not sure where she’s going yet she cannot go back to Seireitei after this.

 Eventually, they reach a lake.

 It is peaceful out here.

 There’s no one else around.

 It is idyllic, even.

 The perfect place to rest.

 She drops to the ground and keeps her gaze set on the lake.

 Ichigo follows suit and the two stare into the lake for a while.

 “I’m so sorry for today.” Rukia eventually says.

 She feels like an idiot.

 But mostly she feels terrible for disappointing Ichigo.

 “Hey, it wasn’t your fault.”

 He quickly tells her.

 “But it kinda is.” She retorts. “I wanted to surprise you and take you some place fun. Instead we just witnessed how horrid the Soul Society can be.”

 Ichigo contemplates her words in silence.

 Finally, he speaks again.

 “The Soul Society is not unlike the Human World, though. I know you enjoy it there, but it can be just as bad as the Soul Society. Even worse. So, don’t beat yourself too much about it. It’s not your fault there are shitty souls here.”

 In truth, the situation outside of Seireitei isn’t just because there are shitty souls in the districts.

 One could argue souls act according to their necessities.

 And that the way the nobles and Shinigami treat other souls is the root of the problem.

 But now is not the time for that conversation.

 “I just wanted us to have fun.”

 Rukia says and her tone is so pitiful Ichigo double takes.

 “I know there’s more than that bothering you.”

 And of course this is when his intuition kicks in.

 He can easily tell the real reason behind her discontentment.

 It is probably written all over her face.

 So she sighs and decides to come clean.

 “I wanted to surprise you with a fun activity. Whenever I visit you, you always show me something new, something exciting. While, when you come here, there’s never any surprises. It’s all just the same as it’s always been. And I just… I guess I just wanted you to find my world as fun as yours is to me.”

 Ichigo blinks and then smiles at her.

 “Rukia, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t think the Soul Society is dull. Every time I come here, something happens. Whether that is Kenpachi looking for a fight, drinking with the guys, running away from Kurotsuchi, arguing with the Kuchiki elders, or even training with Zangetsu, there’s always something to do. Things I can’t experience in Karakura.

 And even if there weren’t, you still surprise me every day.”

 He admits sheepishly.

 “I surprise you?”

 Rukia turns to look at him, dumbfounded.

 “Yeah. With your reactions and comments, and the things you say and do. You even surprise me by just being here, next to me.”

 He blurts out this last bit and his cheeks turn red for a reason unknown to her.

 “My point is that it doesn’t matter if today didn’t turn out exactly like you wanted, because I have fun just by being here with you.”

 And for the first time in all evening, it feels as if the festival wasn’t such a waste of time after all.

 “Thank you.”

 Rukia replies earnestly.

 “So, if you still want to hang out after this, I promise to surprise you in other ways.”

 “I’m counting on it.”

 Ichigo tells her as the light from the moon reflects on him.

 So that night Rukia ends up realizing two things.

 1. That somehow she already surprises Ichigo enough.

 2. He looks particularly good under the moonlight.

 (Now she does have a reason to call it the Moon Festival)

[allyvampirelass29]

Murder at Cripple Creek

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A boomtown swimming with ghosts Dead eyes can't hide Their hedonist living Drinking, debauchery and sinning Scarlet ladies having babies But a whorehouse is not a home Trading flesh for coin Tempting patrons, at the sacrifice of your boy Little Charlie grew up in the hellish dark The sins of the mother Scarring the son's heart Murder brewing in this simmering fleshpot Oh Hateful Harlot, Mother Manx Is is to your neglect and bitter thanks Your baby boy, molested, and you can't protect Your little dreamer from the wicked world you wrought for him Blood on a beautiful boy's hands But the only thing murdered here Is his innocence. Sending his rapist and that lustful bitch Back to hell Charlie, Charlie you're not a villain You had to save yourself.......

Is...... anyone alive out there? It's been days, and I'm still sobbing, my heart desolated by the roiling emotional turmoil, my ignited rage murderous. I don't know about you guys, but...... I'm an absolute wreck. WHY are you DOING this to me, NOS4A2!?!? After the brilliant turn of last week, the sleek sophistication, and glamourous entrapment, "Cripple Creek," was a backhand strike, a blatant violation that I never saw coming, and I spent the entire episode, quivering, sobbing, pleading desperately behind my hands plastered over my face, watching between my fingers, helpless to stop the punishing abuse My Charlie suffers in two different timelines, his bruises of an abused childhood mingling with the fresh wounds of now, as he is tortured, beaten and berated by Bing Partridge!!!

I hated this episode. I HATED it. There, I said it. But I think you're supposed to, I think that was the sole purpose of this traumatizing ordeal. However, as far as Bing (GO TO HELL YOU FILTHY BASTARD) is concerned, the writer's motivation seems drastically convoluted. If this was supposed to be Bing's Big Epiphany, his "redemption," (Ughhh seriously?) This episode fails miserably in accomplishing that. And if this episode was meant to do, what I had predicted back in Season One, cement him as the actual villain of NOS4A2, making him the more immoral evil, be his rise in notoriety, his coming of age as it were, into the monster he was always going to be, giving Charlie and Vic someone to unite their hatred against, it fails to do that too. The biggest misstep of the series, after so elegant a triumph, I'm going to drown my sorrows in ice cream, and try to forget that any of it ever happened. Close your eyes, and think of Christmasland........

I audibly groaned when we opened onto Bing at the Lake House. After so much needless repetition in an otherwise FLAWLESS episode, I REALLY did not want to relive Bing's point of view of the siege, unless it was him getting shot by white knight Chris McQueen over, and over, and over........ Thankfully, the rewind didn't last too long, but I was having NONE of his, "Are you there, God, it's me, Bing Partridge," moment!!! On his knees in the graveyard, (Why...... why are we in a graveyard?) Bing appeals to the heavens, proclaiming his own innocence, asking God to show him what he should do next. I snickered coldly, the whole thing melodramatic, and absurd, as he cries, "I've been so good!!!" Secretly, I was fantasizing about Buffy SLAYING his creepster ass in the graveyard, beating him bloody, before staking him in the heart with a witty saying like, "It's been a gas, Bing, but I get the last laugh!!!" Alas, alack, no such luck. His appeal to the heavens was answered not in divine intervention, but with bird droppings splattering in his mouth, which of course, translated in Bing-A-Ling Logic to, "Kill the FIRST person that tries to help you, bury him in the freshly dug grave, and take his keys!!!" It's PRAYING Bing, you dolt, not preying!!!

While the side quest FINALLY explains how Bing was able to catch up to Charlie and Wayne, after previously believed to be on foot, not to mention shot, which would have been IMPOSSIBLE, supernatural car not withstanding, it's altogether unnecessary. It was the less than scenic route to get to last week's blood-curdling cliff hanger, and I really think we could have done without all the maudlin hullaballoo, and picked right up from there. Also, it creeped me out BIG TIME hearing Bing Partridge say, "Hidey holes," because that's what I called them last week, when Charlie was adorably telling Wayne about his hiding places. "Look at you with your hidey holes, Babe!!!" Needless to say, Bing has ruined that phrase for me FOREVER!!!

"Charlie, Charlie, telling lies, soon he will be crying cries......" A chilling foreboding that was like ice in my veins........ I was definitely crying cries...... I literally WEPT with this horrid little rhyme, and even still I was so naïve, unprepared, for the gut-churning horror that waited in the shadows of a broken little boy's murdered childhood, and the degradation of the beautiful soul that survived it. It's one of the most grueling, and disturbing things, I've ever watched, and like my Darling Boy, strapped to the chair, enduring forced interrogation by gassing, brutal beatings by Bing's homicidal, ham-fisted punches, and some....... deeply unsettling sexual innuendo, I felt like I was the one getting tortured.........

I did utterly enjoy Charlie's feigned relief, as he uses that silver tongue, in valiant effort, to slip his way out of this sickening predicament. "Bing, My Dear Fellow, thank the stars! I thought you had been done in by those wretched McQueens!!" Charlie gasps, thankfully, knowing full well he'd left Bing behind to die, and for good reason. Any other time, this would have worked, Charlie would have used his coaxing charm, and Bing's oafish gullibility, twisted them into a breathtaking manipulation, weaving the lie that he had no choice but to leave him behind, and Bing would have eaten it out of the palm of his hand, because he wants that badly for it to be true. But Bing watched it happen, his face falling, as Charlie sped off without him, and he's DONE playing. Charlie's pleas fall on deaf ears, as Bing drugs him for answers, revealing the fatalities of every single one of Charlie's former accomplices, and with the finality of one apocalyptic truth....... Bing descends into a frenzied, foaming madness.

"Cripple Creek," is the double edged sword that none of us were meant to survive. Switching between the stabbing scenes of Charlie's withering assault, his lifeline to The Wraith, cruelly severed, and the slicing violation of his childhood self, his innocence massacred before our very eyes, our bleeding hearts never stood a chance. I always knew that Charlie's childhood was going to be horrid, downright Dickensian, devoid of magic and light, unloved by his drunk, whore mother, but I had no idea the HELL this beautiful boy endured at so tender an age, forever scarred, betrayed by the one person he trusted, respected, desperately in need of a father figure, only to be exploited in the most heinous way. It's a MIRACLE My Precious Love can even function as an adult, much less still manage to find wonder and beauty in the world, clinging, clawing to hold onto his ember, his remnant of pure light that persevered in a life of darkness.

The inexplicable joy at seeing a young Charlie Manx, aged 11 or 12, tapdancing on stage, along with the giddy marvel that this young actor looks just like our leading man in miniature, is short-lived, as a stranger takes an uncomfortable interest in him....... I don't know how, maybe it was the intent way he watched him dance, or the way he touched his shoulder a little too long, but I knew........ I KNEW this man was going to sexually abuse Charles, I felt it gnawing in my stomach, instantly unnerved, and I hoped with all my heart, my first instinct was wrong....... I'm devastated to say........ it was not.

Not only does this manipulative pedophile Son of a BITCH molest my baby, he first uses him to persuade other boys to flock to his house, knowing full well how much the young ones look up to Charlie, as their leader. He wins Charlie's favour and trust by befriending him, and giving our little darling the one thing he wants more than anything else. Escape. Escape from the vulgar, gratuitously sexual environment, that no young boy should have to endure, a chance to make money, have an honest, respectable living. A chance to have a father figure, a man to look up to, learn from, and take him under his wing. The shop owner offers all of that, with a crooked smile, the charade falling dangerously away, as he knocks back a shot glass, eying our boy, and then says in the cruelest, most chilling voice. "You've earned yourself some fun........"

Thankfully, NOS4A2 was not overly graphic in this lewd portrayal, but the innuendo was enough to make me ugly cry, and seethe, as this sweet child is violated by someone he admires so much, realizing in horror, that he led all of his friends to be mishandled in this same disgusting manner, like lambs to the slaughter. But our brave little Manx was NOT going to let this sin go unpunished, and I clapped, cheering him on, as he uses his sled, now tainted by its means of acquisition, to kill the shopkeeper, dark fire flashing in his eyes, blood splattering on the shot glass, and I've never been so happy, or nervously relieved to see someone die.

His mother comes to him, and instead of crying, and taking her boy in her arms, stroking his dark curls, soothing his fear, and assuaging his guilt, she just scoffs at his accusation, the picture of apathy, and places the blame back on him. "You knew too, Charlie!!!" You WHORE-ABLE Mother!!! Your son was just sexually ASSAULTED, and YOU DARE make it his own fault, like he'd turned a blind eye, and therefore deserved to get raped!?!? Charlie might not have killed her, if she'd actually had a maternal bone in her body, if she'd done SOMETHING, shown any sign of regret or compassion, but she doesn't, and I feel nothing but proud as he finishes her off too. Her death was surprising, given the admonishing way Charlie talks about his mother, creating the impression that she'd been a bane on his existence his entire life, and yes, as a writer, I wanted to see more of a direct conflict between them to make that defining moment that much more satisfying, but as a viewer, I was just grateful she was dead, and Charlie was free. The only murder perpetrated, the only death I mourned at Cripple Creek, was that of Charlie's innocence, his childhood slaughtered.

Meanwhile, Bing continues to torture Charlie in the present day, my chest shuddering with every thrown punch, and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming. What was the deafening truth spoken that sends Bing Partridge into a flailing rage, you ask?

"Christmasland is for children. We are special...... That's why we can't go......."

Charlie was never going to take Bing to Christmasland. All that this poor dope had lived for, dreamed of, for eight years, amidst his conning his way into dentists' offices, and offing mothers, and it was always a lie. I had suspected it the entire time, especially after the mention of a, "special feast," but what SHOCKED me the most, was the unimaginable heartbreak of Charlie's own deepest secret coming to light, and as Bing draws it forth, it's like drawing blood. In spite of being the architect of his lifelong dream, and greatest solace from a life full of abject misery, Charlie doesn't think he deserves Christmasland, because he sees himself as ruined........

I broke down sobbing, that pain, that anguish, that he's so long carried with him, ripping through me, and I'm tearing up even as I write this, remembering....... Charlie denying himself his own dream, seeing himself as a ruined article that might profane its pure vision, is a tragedy that I can't come back from. It's a sorrowful, aching confession, and yet somehow it explains so much, and in this, his greatest pain, his darkest secret, I felt intimately closer to him. At last........ we see why Charlie never stays long in his Christmas kingdom, why he's so focused on the next child, and the next, sacrificing time with his own daughter, because they deserve Christmasland, and he doesn't. Always the courier, never the partaker. Christmasland is for children, and Charlie Manx never got the chance to be one.

The searing pains of his past still guide so much of who he is today, placing a strict emphasis on propriety in every aspect of his person, in manner, speech, and dress, because he was robbed of his dignity as a child. I also, FINALLY, after two seasons, understand why he turns the children into vampires, a contradiction to his love of them, that has remained frustratingly elusive to my grasp. Charlie's childhood was taken from him, brought to a vulnerable, violent end, and by turning the Lost Children, theirs becomes eternal. They never have to grow up, and lose that purity, that innocence. I also realized, that by giving them their bite back, they are able to defend themselves, meaning no one can ever hurt them again.......

There was so much awful going on, so much inflicted misery, and disorienting chaos, that I was sure I'd heard wrong when Bing decides on an even more dehumanizing method of torture. Did Bing just...... call Charlie a BITCH!? I shook my head, but there it was again, and at this point I'd HAD it. Somebody give me a GUN, I will WASTE this SICK BASTARD myself!!! The skeevy sexual threat against Charlie felt like overkill to me, utterly ridiculous, a cheap shot at adding dramatic effect, especially in the face of his childhood shame. Bing has exhibited absolutely no inclination of...... swinging that way, as it were, before, and yeah they kind of threw in last minute that he'd done this to Mike's father, offscreen, but I don't know WHY he would do that, especially given his particular affinity for Mike. Charlie, himself, pointed out that there was no indication in the Graveyard of What Might Be that Mike needed saving, or that his father deserved punishing. It's awkward, and disturbing, and there seemed to me no method in this madness.

"If I'm a monster....... who deserves to die....... You deserve so much worse." BAM. Hell yeah, Babe!!! Thank GOD, Charlie's quick enough to convince Bing that he too is a monster, and we are spared any further asinine innuendo. Bing, after these series of unfortunate events, beating, berating, and threatening Charlie with rape, suddenly, deus ex machina-esque has a change of heart, and an epiphany that comes a LOT TOO LATE!!! We're both monsters, we BOTH deserve to die....... What we're doing is WRONG. Was I happy when Bing urged Wayne to go, and tell a police officer that his mom is Vic McQueen? Yes. Do I believe he did it out of the goodness of his heart, and has finally seen the light? Freaking HELL NO!!! Bing, after losing Christmasland, has nothing left to live for, and this is his way of giving up. If I can't go to Christmasland, Wayne can't go...... and he decides a bizarre murder/suicide in The Wraith is his final act of redemption.

Before they even showed the car crusher, I was already sobbing profusely, losing my freaking mind, because I had figured out exactly where Bing had taken Charlie.

"There's going to be two less monsters in the world........"

Meaning to crush them both, and kill the Wraith irrevocably, Bing puts on his mask, and presses the button. At first Wayne laughs, and thinks it's a game, his inner vampire child coming out, but when it hits him that Charlie's in actual danger, he realizes he has a choice to make....... Save Charlie Manx, or let him die, and go home safe to his Mom and Lou.

"No, My Boy, this isn't a game, it's time to play, Save Father Christmas!!!"

Charlie calls out frantically, coaxingly to his young charge, and I loved that so much, my heart overwhelmed with emotion. Yes, Wayne, PRETTY PLEASE save Father Christmas!!! A lot of people despised him for what happened next, screaming at Wayne for his choice, even calling him a stupid kid, but I, myself, felt even more love in my heart for that already dearly cherished little lad, as he smiles, and slams down on the button, halting the crusher, and saving Charlie from imminent death.

It's a profound moment, the abductee choosing to save his kidnapper's life, and many cried out strongly against it, but you have to understand....... Charlie Manx has become so much more to Wayne than the scary face in his mother's paintings. Here is a man that has shown genuine interest in his life, his hopes, his dreams, who has treated him gently, fussed over him, concerned, and who has come to love him like a father. Couple that with The Wraith's effects on Wayne, slowly tying the two of them together, it makes perfect sense to me, how this unexpected bond has formed. Yes, had Vic been there, herself, he would have chosen her over Charlie in a second, but when faced with the reality of letting Charlie die, our tender-hearted Bats just couldn't do it.

"Do think of me at Christmastime, won't you?"

CHARLIE. LIKE. A. BOSS!!!! The single greatest moment, and brightest scene in an hour of plunging darkness, is definitely Charlie, snapping back into his delectably dark, unrivaled perfection (although, I must say I still found him incredibly dashing in his distinguished grays) charging Bing Partridge, murder striking in his wild, smouldering eyes, stabbing him, with a reveling whisper, twisting the knife, with this most PERFECT line, that gave me wonderous, reverberating chills!!! I also LOVED how Charlie glowers in his lumpy face and says, "You were never special." DAMN that's HOT!!! My only grievance with an otherwise ENTHRALLING moment, was that inexplicably, yet again, CHARLIE DIDN'T KILL BING!!! Charlie has KILLED for so much less, and while he did offer a vague explanation about prison being so much worse for Bing than hell, it felt like hell frozen over that Charlie would ever let Bing live. I know this is the writers wanting to keep Bing around to creep another day, but MY GOD, hang that Partridge from a pear tree, and HAVE DONE already!!!!!

This was an especially dark episode, but there were flashes of some really beautiful, albeit fleeting moments, first with Wayne and Craig, and then with Millie and Cassie, though the reoccurring theme, the common thread, did seem to be Innocence Lost. I was startled with the The Wraith's sneaky trick of causing a child to forget their parents the longer they are in the car, and BLESS YOU, Craig for helping your son remember his mother, and fight the transformation!!! He tells Wayne that Vic's favourite movie was Jaws, and Wayne tells him that her favourite holiday is the 4th of July. (Which is really cool, because it's my favourite too!!!) This slows the Wraith's effects on Wayne, and becomes a very special moment between father and son, as they fight to keep Vic's memory alive.

"How do you know my mom?"

"She was my best friend."

More overwhelmed sobs, because apparently I haven't cried enough this episode!!! Craig decides not to tell Wayne that he's his father, but our little Bats is ingeniously clever, and I think he's going to figure it out before long!!! Another mini heart attack comes with a second lost tooth. The suspense of Wayne's slow turning, mirroring the tender emotion in this scene was fantastic.

Millie and her mother have a similar moment, and I thought that was BRILLIANT of her to introduce Vampire Millie to her former human self. The two play with dolls, and human Millie talks about how she can't wait to go on a date, and have adventures when she grows up! It's such an endearing scene, and also incredibly sad, as the pale, gaunt shell of Vampire Millie envies her bright, and bubbly human counterpart, seeing the hope and innocence that she's so long been bereft of. "She's me...... Who I'm supposed to be." Cassie explains that her father's sad fantasy is depriving Millie of the gift of growing up, and explains that there's nothing Charlie Manx fears more than a woman with her own mind, and that's the LAST thing he wants his beloved daughter to become. A woman that would eventually leave him. More tears. Poor Millie. Poor Charlie!! Can I just give everybody a hug!?

"Cripple Creek," lingers like BAD Dream, and all I want to do right now, is curl up with Charlie Manx, hold him in my arms, stroke his cheek, soothe him with the tenderest hands, and softest words, tell him he's beautiful, and that he deserves Christmasland, and the world, that he's not ruined, but PURE!!! This was my least favourite episode in the entire series, and just like, "The Gas Mask Man," will be skipped indefinitely in the re-watch, but like I said, it endeared Charlie even more to my heart, and I feel fiercely protective over him, over that goodness that still glows in his dark eyes, despite lifetimes of feeling unloved, and in ever-present pain. All I ever wanted in Season One, was a glimpse into the past that crafted my mysterious and refined vampire chauffeur, and this entire experience, My Darlings, is an exercise in, "Be Careful What You Wish For..........."

[ladywindrunner]

How would a platonic interaction between Lilian Voss and Sylvanas go?

messages // always accepting ::

( i have never written lilian voss in my life, so apologies if this is terrible)

“Your self-loathing is draining,” Sylvanas��� comment was quick to draw a sharp glare from her companion skulking in the shadows. She’d been sat on the outcrop for a while now, almost invisible save for the wicked blue hue of her eyes.

           “I apologize Your Grace,” Lilian hissed the title, watching the Banshee Queen suspiciously for a moment before she returned to her brooding. She hadn’t thought it was that obvious, how much she found herself abhorrent. She kept looking at her hand, pale and ashen, senses dulled to almost nonexistence. Strange, how there was an ache in her chest that she recalled feeling when she was alive. It told her that she hurt, but not in a manner that a simple bandage could mend, “I hadn’t thought this part of the sewers were monitored for unacceptable opinions.”

           The Queen of the Forsaken scoffed. She stood in the faded light, the glow of her eyes decidedly gentler than that of Lilian’s. A sign that despite the snark, Sylvanas was in a positive mood, or at least less murderous. Lilian had not seen the high elf so close before, and now that she stood within a few of meters, the rogue found herself admiring the woman’s form.

           She lacked the rot other Forsaken were plagued with, new or old. Her tall figure was that of slender curves, wrapped in leather and cruel armour. Turquoise radiance of the noxious fluid flowing through the Undercity added an otherworldly iridescence to Sylvanas’ flesh, glinting off her pale, purple-tinged skin beautifully.

           “You misunderstand,” Sylvanas clarified, almost aloof as she spoke, “hate for one’s self is woven into the very fabric of Forsaken culture,” she glanced up at the human.

           Lilian’s form was in far better condition than others. There were signs that the woman had tended to the tears in her skin, magical mending that left faint, blackish scars in its wake, or the more obvious stitching. Her hair, chin length, was a faded brown and somewhat tended too. She wore leathers mostly, darkened so she could better blend in with the darkest of shadows, with two sheathed daggers hanging from her belt.

           In the right lighting, some may think she were alive.

           “I had simply believed you would have overcome such foolishness by now,” Sylvanas’ comment infuriated Lilian.

           “Overcome my undeath?” Lilian snapped, eyes narrowed as she shifted position, resting weight on one knee as she glowered at her so-called queen.

           Sylvanas gave her a look, head tilted, her voice riddled with condescension.

           “Your anger,” she clarified with a taunting click of her tongue, “surely you’ve come to realize there’s no cure for our situation.”

           Lilian snorted, “of course.”

           “Then why do you hate yourself for it?”

           Silence hung between them.

           “I’m a monster,” Lilian stated, so matter-of-factly that there should have been no room to argue.

           Yet Sylvanas found the space to do just that.

           “Are you?” she considered Lilian for a moment, “no, you’re not. I’m sure some fool from Stormwind may think that, but you are far less monstrous then most of the Forsaken in this sewer.”

           Lilian said nothing in response.

           “Tell me,” Sylvanas indulged the rogue, though in truth it was far more likely she was simply indulging in her own flight of fancy, “why do you think you’re monstrous?”

           As if the answer was clear, Lilian looked down at her hands.

           A corpse’s hands.

           “I should be dead,” Lilian murmured, shaking her head gently.

           “A reality we all have in common,” Sylvanas noted a tad impatiently, Lilian’s gaze hardened as it returned to the elf. “Hardly makes you a monster.”

           “Your val’kyr robbed me of my death,” her voice shook with rage.

           “Yes,” the Banshee Queen replied with cool indifference, “just as your blade robbed many Forsaken of their lives.”

           Lilian found herself caught offguard,  anger abating in favour of thought. She had not considered her actions in such a light, she’d been taught to hate the Forsaken, she’d trained her entire life to fight them. When she’d been a part of the living, it hadn’t mattered if they were Forsaken or Scourge – to her they were the same.

           “I assure you, the term ‘monster’ is relative.” The queen continued, “and it was not personal. No one laid your corpse before the val’kyr to spite you. You are the answer to a difficult question for the Forsaken.”

           “Reproduction.” The tension Lilian’s voice began to ebb away.

           Sylvanas’ lips spread into a sly smile, she began to pace, boot heels clicking on the stone walkway.

           “I am certain it would have given a great many pleasure to watch the Forsaken dwindle away, turning to dust as time relentlessly marches forward, or to see our unnatural lives cut short by the swords of those who abhor us simply for existing…” she did not miss the opportunity to shoot a harsh glare towards Voss, “it was a question of morality.”

           “Did you truly consider the morality of it?” 

           It was a fair question, Sylvanas did not fault Lilian for it. She had, even if morality was a concept that only served the living.

           “I did,” she answered, gaze not wavering. If she was lying, Lilian could not tell. “But there was no way to secure the survival of the Forsaken without increasing our numbers. We thought of attempting to free more undead from the Lich King’s influence, but that proved to be a fruitless endeavor. Those that remain, are too enthralled to ever taste freedom.”

           Sylvanas let out a soft exhale, “which meant we possessed only one option. To raise those that fell on our blades.”

           Understanding brought some sort of strange quiet to Lilian’s being. She could not define it as serenity, but it was certainly not the anger that she’d so readily felt a moment ago. It did not change her disgust with herself, with her fate, but somehow the Forsaken were less fiendish. It brought no comfort in regards to her fate, but it brought into focus why she’d been robbed of eternal rest.

           The Dark Lady mused, chuckling to herself as her pacing ceased. “I suggest you find a way to endure your undeath, Lady Voss, unless you truly find it repulsive. Embrace true death if you wish, or simply sulk in the dark about how UNFAIR fate has been to you… but I imagine both would be a phenomenal waste of your talents.”

           The Banshee Queen walked away, no longer acknowledging Lilian’s presence. Her swagger was arrogant and somehow charming. If undeath haunted Sylvanas as it did Lilian, the quel’dorei did not let it shine through. She carried herself with the confidence an experienced commander would, not an ounce of doubt evident.

           Lilian did not move for a long while, perhaps one of the few boons of undeath – she did not suffer from fatigue anymore. But after some time, she glanced at her hands once more, before slipping them into a snug pair of gloves.

           She would find a purpose in this catastrophe of an existence. She would not sulk, would not hide in the dark and so openly show that she struggled with herself.

           She would find those who did not raise the undead as new life, but as slaves. Those who originally started all of this, who had damned them all with their careless and greed for power to this horrid life.

           She’d scour the entirety of Azeroth for necromancers.

           And end them ALL.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧ kofi

[gayathreya]

some kaappaan thoughts i had to let out (mild spoilers);

thinking about Kaappaan again cos of all the deleted scenes being slowly released and how it's just. SO DISAPPOINTING watching shallow films like this which wants to try a hand at some form of enlightening their audience but does such a bang up job on it

now, i'm not ragging on the film. for me it was an average watch, it's far from being a horrible film. but the annoyance comes with the messages being shallow and tonedeaf as f which is the main issue for me. people think the "social message" in films is what's bad but imo the problem is when it's not done proper or with any kind of understanding on what institutional structures or power and oppression are

Madras, Kaala, Vada Chennai, etc, these are just the recent films i can think of that handled their so called "social message" well and... it wasn't some weak surface understanding of it? they actually showed structural concepts and how they feed into their respective socio-political issues. they had proper lines and imagery about politics, caste, religion, gentrification, forced homogenisation of a populace, i could go on

Kaappaan wanted to highlight agriculture and theft of land by corporations - which, SURE, yes. it's valid and not unimportant in our current climate. but HOW IN THE GODDAMN FUCK can you make a movie about this without even talking about CAPITALISM? like.... wtf. the way this movie presented it was as if there was One (1) big bad dude and One (1) big bad corporation and once you remove them, everything would be fine and dandy. except. THAT'S NOT HOW STRUCTUAL POWER AND CORPORATE GREED AND CAPITALISM WORKS. you cut off one head, another will arise. nothing has been solved, nothing resolved or even partially changed. i just cannot get over how shallow the writing was when it came to this

not to mention the absolute disgusting way the indian army was portrayed like how they're this great saviour fighting moustache twirling evil bad pakistan's army and Kashmiris happily receiving them. you have to be really fucking tonedeaf to think your army alone is a big innocent and pure baby when in reality everyone with half a brain and some political sense know Kashmiris hate both your guts and you're both demons to them who have committed literal war crimes of mental and physical torture, rape, and murder. you BOTH are sick and disgusting, you BOTH deserve to be spat on. armies are not there to primarily sing songs and defend people as school propaganda says, they're primarily there to act as an option for potential state violence against another nation or even its own people cos governments can and WILL use its own forces on its own people to subjugate them. it's 20 fucking 19 and you're literally still writing stories glorifying indian presence in Kashmir, making light of Kashmiri independence from both your demon claws, framing it as an undesirable outcome where you have forces aggressively removing them in the film, all cos you're sucking some fascist nationalist dick.

like i just cannot even begin to explain how these 2 things were a huuuge bother for me cos the writing is just ridiculously at the level of someone having their politics from 10 years ago and making zero attempt at actually analysing any kind of structural violence and systems in place. now sure the movie ultimately wasn't about this and dissolved into your basic old revenge plot, but then my question would be why include these elements at all? either you make a proper film about the very real consequences of government compliancy for capitalism and environmental collapse, or you shut the fuck up about it instead of acting like it's all the fault of one big bad man and that the problem has been solved at the end credits (hint: it's not)

the actual only thing with respect to these points that i can praise Kaappaan about was the tiny moments of Suriya's character eye rolling at assholes in the film trying to put the blame on communists for causing unrest, and openly stating that the police kills protestors and they very well could be against the people. but these were such small moments that would've been lost if you blink, and it had no real weight against the horrid things i'm talking about

if you follow me you know Suriya is my baby but damn this film was just sooo. shallow, tonedeaf, and weak af when it came to the actual stuff they wanted to present. a damn shame considering if it just happened to be a typical commercial flick i'd have enjoyed it more, the biggest irony for me cos i don't enjoy typical commercial flicks from suriya at all. again, this isn't a terrible film, but it was just soulless to me. everyone panned NGK but fuck y'all that had way more heart and fire to it than this apparent political commentary that came from the mind of a person who didn't bother with political evaluation of current affairs at all

fuck capitalism, fuck cops, fuck the military, and fuck your government. all of these that you're capping for would pointblank shoot a farmer, refugee, immigrant, protestor, communist, etc, right in the face, and life would go on with no accountability. because that's what systems of violence are. Kaappaan shows problems as that of an individualistic error and immorality, when it should've been showing structural immorality alongside complicit governance. or better off be not showing it at all if you don’t have the nuance and wisdom to handle it

eta: update to say yeah i hate this film now and i think it’s the worst movie he has done in his whole career yet. i cannot forgive imperialist bootlicking and cop/army propaganda.

[creative-type]

Just another side story...

AN: Since my last side story thing did better than expected, here’s another. As before there are spoilers for chapter seven and beyond of my ongoing story The Murder of Arthur Wright. 

If interest continues I might just alternate chapters of background info with chapters from the main story. The Wrights are very old characters of mine, and I’ve literally waited more than ten years for a proper excuse to tell their story,

Lastly, fiat lux is Latin translation for Genesis 1:3. I thought it fitting for the DotL world 

So without further ado, here’s the story of how a grumpy and staunchly conservative elf let his daughter study magic 

Abigail was sitting in the drawing room when the clock struck nine. Blinking slowly she looked up from her lessons and noted that their latest governess was nowhere to be seen. The poor woman likely assumed it was safe to leave her by herself—they all did at first. Most never realized that Abigail could be just as devious as her sister when she put her mind to it. The few who did never stayed long enough for it to make a difference.

Abigail rechecked her work, but even now the subject matter baffled her. Father had always taken an unusual interest in his children’s education, giving the siblings supplementary work in addition to whatever their tutors assigned. He pushed hard, but never exceeded the boundaries of his children’s ability, even if it seemed that way to start.

At least not usually. This time Abigail was sure Father had overestimated her, and badly at that. She supposed it was her fault. After all, she had been the one to complain that her lessons bored her to tears.

In her stocking feet, Abigail trod softly out of the drawing room and took the servant’s stair to the kitchen. Mother would have had a fit if she saw, but Abigail was on a mission requiring the utmost stealth. At this time of night Father would have retreated back to his study and Mother would be finishing up her correspondence. Abigail always wondered which of her parents used more paper, but she never had the courage to ask.

Desdemona never lacked courage to ask whatever questions came to her mind. Sometimes Abigail envied her sister, just a little. She didn’t know how Dessy could stand getting into so much trouble. Just the thought of being on the wrong side of a tongue-lashing was enough to turn Abigail’s knees to jelly.

The rest of the time, tonight included, Abigail was convinced her sister’s actions had nothing to do with courage and everything to do with reckless idiocy.

Abigail made it to the kitchens unseen. Most of the staff were gone for the night, but Maudie, the family cook, was at the back table kneading bread. Abigail hovered by the stairway and waited until she was finished, unwilling to interrupt her work. She watched carefully, mesmerized by the practiced, rhythmic motions Maudie used, and wondered why bread needed to be kneaded at all.

Needed to be kneaded. Her mind instantly registered the play on words as a homophone, just like new and knew, locks and lox, and canopies and can of peas. Okay, maybe that last one was just a pun, but it was close enough.

Anyway, Maudie was setting aside the dough, and that was her cue to step forward. When Maudie caught sight of Abigail a smile spread across her round, pleasant face. Maudie was the longest tenured servant of the estate, hired just after her parents were married. Abigail had known her since babyhood and trusted her more than anyone in the world. The other servants described Maudie a wise old bird, which seemed about right even if it was rude to say out loud.

But tonight the most important thing about Maudie was she refused to let any of the Wright children go to bed hungry, even if they had been sent to their rooms without supper.

“Hello there, Abby girl,” Maudie said. “Is there something I can get for you?”

“Uh huh.”

“For here or to go?” she asked.

“To go,” Abigail said quietly as she approached Maudie. If she stood on her tiptoes she could see just over the lip of the table. It took a small measure of will not to poke the round ball of bread dough just to see what it felt like.

Maudie nodded and got to work making a cold tongue sandwich. “I heard your sister put on quite a show tonight.”

Abigail sighed a longsuffering sigh. “I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“That it would be funny to play a tavern song for your mother, I expect,” Maudie said. “I’m more curious where she learned it from.”

She gave a molasses cookie to Abigail to chew on and waited for her to answer. Even at the tender age of nine Abigail was careful with her words. She had to be since Dessy never was.

“I don’t want anyone to get into trouble,” Abigail said finally. “More trouble, I guess.”

“Aye, but I think we all know it would be better if it didn’t happen again. If it were one of the staff, I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

That made sense. The whole reason Dessy had been sent upstairs without dinner was because she refused to rat out who gave her sheet music to the well-known, extremely inappropriate tavern song. Abigail knew her sister well enough that such a source of forbidden knowledge would be an impossible temptation in the future.

Still she was slow to answer. Betraying Dessy’s trust to anyone, even if it was just Maudie, felt wrong somehow.

“We were just supposed to show off what we’d learned for Mother,” Abigail said. “I don’t like piano lessons either, but that doesn’t mean I go and learn something so…so horrid.”

Maudie smiled. “It’s just a song, love. I’m sure your sister doesn’t even know the words.”

She didn’t. Neither of them did, although it wasn’t for a lack of trying. “It’s the principle of the matter,” Abigail argued, echoing Mother’s reaction once she’d calmed down enough to decide on a punishment.

Abigail sighed and finished off her cookie, wondering if that was Maudie’s way of bribing her for information. If so, it was a very effective. “The stable boy’s father works at the bar. I think he got it from the musician they’ve got working there, but I’m not sure.”

“I’ll make sure the lad gets talked to,” Maudie promised before pushing the sandwich towards her. “And I’ll be up later to take the plate.”

“Thank you,” Abigail said. She hesitated, then looked up at Maudie. “I wish I understood why she keeps doing it.”

“Doing what, love?”

“Break the rules,” Abigail said miserably. “Felix and I put together don’t get yelled at half as often as she does.”

Maudie hummed a tuneless song and busied herself cleaning off her table. “I expect it’s for the same reason you keep breaking the rules to sneak her up food.”

“Yes, but I’m being logical,” Abigail protested.

“So is Miss Desdemona,” Maudie said. “You might not understand it, she might not be able to tangle through her feelings enough to understand it, but no one does anything without reason. Tell me, love, did you ask that governess of yours the same question you asked me the other night?”

Abigail flushed scarlet. “Yes.”

“And what did she say?”

“That I was being frivolous and not to distract from the lesson,” Abigail said. “But that’s not the same at all! I just wanted to know why people’s elbows go limp when they’re relaxed when their fingers curl in instead. It’s not my fault all she ever teaches us is grammar.”

Maudie chuckled at Abigail’s disgusted expression. “Aye, and your sister is just as curious, only her curiosity is more a test of cause and effect than anatomy. You two are really quite similar.”

“Felix says she got all the excitement and I got all the quiet and if you mixed us together you’d get a normal person,” Abigail mumbled.

“Felix was known to cause his own fair share of trouble when he was younger,” Maudie said. “Not unlike Miss Desdemona, now that I think about it.” She chuckled softly. “You can definitely tell you share the same blood.”

Abigail considered this. Of course anyone could tell she and Dessy were siblings just by looking. You could even tell with Felix, because all three of them had gotten Father’s long, thin nose. But she had never thought about their personalities being similar.

Her eyes slid to the crumpled sheets of parchment that held the problems Father had assigned her. Each had been monstrously difficult, necessitating hours upon hours in the library and a good deal of time looking up words she didn’t know to finish on time.

But she had finished. Pride and stubbornness kept her from giving up or admitting to her father that it was too difficult.

Abigail looked up at Maudie wondrously.

“See?” Maudie said, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkling with a smile. “I’ve always said families is made out of the same ingredients, just in different proportions. It all balances out in the end. Now go on, afore you get caught wandering about where you shouldn’t.”

Abigail scurried away to the second story, staying unseen and unnoticed until she knocked on Dessy’s door—two sharp raps, a pause, and then two more.

Dessy opened the door almost immediately, relief written on her face. “Oh, good. I didn’t think you’d make it tonight.”

“Hush, do you want someone to hear?” Abigail said as her sister snatched the plate.

“Maybe,” Dessy grinned, modulating her voice to scarcely a whisper. “Send Maudie my regards.”

“Do it yourself when she picks up the plate,” Abigail said. “I’m going to turn in my lessons to Father.”

“Now?” Dessy said. “It’s so late.”

“I just got finished.”

Dessy cocked her head. “That’s not like you,” she said. “What’d he have you doing, anyway? Copy pages out of the dictionary?”

“It’s nothing. Goodnight, Dessy.”

Dessy looked at her a shade longer than normal. “…’Night.”

Abigail shut the door quietly and let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It was late, late enough that under normal circumstances she would have never bothered her father. Technically speaking he wasn’t expecting the lesson till tomorrow. Likely Dessy was just starting the problems she’d been given. Even done in a mad dash she would still get more right than not, because even though Dessy was sometimes an idiot she wasn’t stupid. Abigail wished more people could see that.

But if she waited till tomorrow she wouldn’t see Father’s reaction when he saw the amount of work she had put into her lessons. This way maybe…maybe he would notice her like he did Felix or Mother did Dessy.

Abigail took another breath and stole some of Dessy’s courage. Only it wasn’t really Dessy’s and it wasn’t really stealing. If Maudie was right then she had braveness in her, just like her sister. It was just in different proportions.

Abigail didn’t have the foolhardy recklessness to get a tavern song from the stable boy, but she did have the deep, aching desire to please her father, and that was enough to make her feet move forward, one step at a time.

She felt her skin tighten as she neared his study, the air so thick with magic she could almost taste it. The servants always felt uneasy around so much magic, but to Abigail it was second nature. She raised her hand to knock on the door and faltered, her knuckles hovering just above the wood.

What if he got angry? What if he didn’t have time or didn’t care? Father had been so terribly busy since his appointment at the university, with little time to for anyone, least of all her. Felix was training to be a mage and practically an adult, while Dessy’s wild antics detracted from any attention he might have spared for her. Abigail had always felt like the lost child, devoid of either of her siblings’ talent.

There’s no way to know if you don’t knock, stupid, a voice that sounded frighteningly like Dessy said. Abigail swallowed hard.

She knocked on the door.

There was a moment of silence, then she heard her father’s heavy footsteps before he swung open the door to the study, forcing her to jump back to avoid being hit.

“What is it?” Father said irritably. “I said I wasn’t to be disturb…Abigail?” Father looked down his long nose, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“I wanted to show you something,” Abigail all-but-whispered. She handed him the problems from her lesson.

Father took them silently, the line between his eyebrows getting even deeper. Abigail took a step back and fought the urge to slouch. Mother always said ladies weren’t supposed to slouch.

“What in the world is this?” Father said.

“My lessons. I-I wanted you to see.”

Father blinked owlishly behind his round spectacles. “You did this?”

Somehow Abigail found the strength to nod.

Father looked back down at the papers, to her, then to the papers again. The longer his silence the harder it was not to fidget, and that was worse than slouching. It felt like an eternity before Father turned back towards his study.

“Come here, Abigail.”

He didn’t sound upset. If anything Father was perplexed. Abigail had never seen her father so confused, and wasn’t sure if it was better or worse than his annoyance.

“Where did you even get this?” Father asked once they were in the study and he’d closed the door.

“You gave it to me,” Abigail said.

“When?”

“Last week, when you handed out our lessons,” Abigail said. “When I said…when I said the work we’d been given was too easy.”

Father stared at her. “Abigail, do you know what this is?”

“I, um, my lessons?” she guessed, suddenly unsure.

“These were Felix’s lessons from when I started tutoring him in magic,” Father said. “I gave him these problems when he was twelve years old.”

Oh.

Oh.  

No wonder it had been so difficult.

Father spun around and sifted through the stacks of paper on his desk. He never let the servants tidy this room. He claimed no motes of dust would dare settle where he conducted his precious research, and Abigail supposed that was true.

That didn’t stop it from being a mess.

Abigail let out a giggle. She couldn’t help it. Her father was the greatest mage she had ever met, one of the greatest in the world, and he had lost her homework.

“That’s not funny, young lady,” Father said, but there was no force behind his words. He slumped down into his chair. “Do you even know what any of this means?”

“Um, most of it,” Abigail said. “I had to use a dictionary.”

He peered again at the paper. “Define kinetic energy.”

“The energy of movement, based on mass and velocity of an object in motion,” Abigail said without hesitation. “Like when you drop something on the ground.”

Father’s eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. “Define potential energy.”

“Um…” This was more difficult. She had found the answer, but she still had trouble making sense of it. “It’s the energy something might have, based on where it is and how it might move. Like when you have something on the edge of a table that might fall.” Abigail thought back to what she’d read. “I think both are measured in Joules.”

Father leaned back in his chair and let out a sharp breath through his teeth. “How long did this take you to do?”

“A long time,” Abigail said, embarrassed. “There are some things I still don’t understand. I thought maybe...maybe you could explain it to me.”

Father acknowledged this with a faint nod, but didn’t speak for a long time. His eyes were distant as he thought.

Abigail almost thought he’d forgotten she was there when he came abruptly to his feet and tore at his desk until he found a piece of chalk attached to a long stick. He used the chalk to draw a circle with Abigail at the center.

“Why are you drawing on the floor?” Abigail asked. All she could think was how upset the servants would be if they saw what he was doing.

“Abigail, darling, I want you to try something for me,” Father said. “I can’t let the energy of the room interfere.”

He closed the circle and murmured a word that made the chalk glow. Suddenly Abigail was cut off from all the magic of her father’s study. The lack of familiar energy felt wrong somehow, but she didn’t dare say so out loud.

“Alright,” Father said, taking a small step back. “Abigail, I’m going to teach you a word, and I want you to try to call light to your hand.”

“With magic?” Abigail said.

“Yes, Abigail, with magic,” Father said breathlessly. “But first I want you to promise never to try this when I’m not around to watch over you. Magic is very dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Yes, Father,” Abigail said.

“I’m serious. Not even to Desdemona, not unless I’m present. Do you understand?”

Father was always serious, but there was a gravitas in his voice that Abigail had never heard before. She nodded timorously. “Yes, Father.”

“That’s my good girl. Now, when you say the magic word, you need to concentrate on nothing else but the light. There can be no distractions, no stray thoughts. Just think of the light you want to see in your hand. Do you understand?”

Again Abigail nodded, and Father taught her the words, making sure she pronounced them correctly. She could feel the power of them even through the circle, and she lifted her hand.

”Fiat lux.”

Nothing happened, not so much as a flicker. Abigail frowned, and concentrated on light. This was important. She couldn’t—she refused—to mess up.

But even with the words guiding her, Abigail couldn’t do it. It was just too hard to focus when Father was staring at her, waiting anxiously for something to happen. It was impossible to miss the disappointment as seconds, then minutes passed.

“Maybe it was too much to expect,” Father murmured. “All right, Abigail, I’m going to break the circle.”

“No!” Abigail cried. “Let me try one more time, I promise I can do it!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We can try again later, when you’re more rested and I’ve—“

“No.”

Abigail doubled down on her concentration. Every mage she knew could call light. She had seen her father do it dozens of times, and he didn’t need any stupid magic words to manage it. She wanted to make light, and she wouldn’t rest until she did.

She thought of the sun’s rays on a midsummer day and the soft glow of candle flame. She remembered nights catching fireflies with Desdemona and winters spent reading in front of the cherry-red glow of the fireplace. Abigail had read once that moon was only visible because it reflected the light of the sun, and that the universe was full of thousands and thousands of suns as strong as their own, but they were so far away that they looked like pinpricks in the night sky.

Abigail remembered the soft, silver glow of her father’s magic, and how effortlessly it came to him. She brought both her hands up as if coaxing a wild and frightened animal and whispered,

“Fiat lux.”

She felt power stir deep within her, struggling to escape. It was wild and untamed, and it seemed determined to go anywhere but her hands.

That simply would not do. Abigail directed the energy from her core first to her shoulders, then her elbows, and finally down to her wrists. At every stop a portion was lost, and by the time it reached her hands there was almost nothing left.

But it was enough.

Bright, blinding light shone from her palms, pulsing outward like an exploding star. It burned through the remainder of Abigail’s energy in seconds, and the light quickly transformed to heat. Her hands felt like they were on fire as she swayed dangerously on her feet, her pulse thundering in her ears.

The euphoria of success was the last thing she remembered before her knees buckled under her weight. She’d done it. She’d made light just by speaking, and Father had seen. Father had seen, and he would be happy, only he didn’t look happy. He looked afraid  

           and she was falling…

                               ...Why was she falling…?

Strong arms enveloped her before she hit the ground. She heard someone cry out her name, but it sounded far away, like she was listening through water.

Abigail opened her eyes and smiled at her Father. All her life she’d thought herself as the lost child of the Wright family, stuck between wise, worldly Felix and exuberant, wild Dessy. Abigail had never thought, even for a second, that she had inherited even a portion of her father’s talent.

But she had.

She just needed to be stubborn enough to see it.

[fountainpenguin]

Jack and Maddie seem to love their children, but they're also clueless when it comes to safety (or not thinking about ghosts long enough to be parents). Is it possible that either Jazz or Danny needed fairy godparents when they were younger? Or what about San, whose parents tried to fit her into a mould and control her life?

If we started getting this picky, we could argue that everyone in the world needs fairy godparents.

Some kids just turn out fine. I did.

“Kids who are miserable” is a loose term. I’ve always thought godkid selection had to do with their avoidance behaviors (If you flee stressful situations, you’ll develop anxiety, and if you don’t then you won’t, etc. We’ll talk more about this with Frayed Knots and Anti-Cosmo, and don’t worry- I already drafted a whole post about the importance of consent > force).

Danny, Jazz, and Sam aren’t the types to close themselves off or avoid stressful situations. But at the age he got his fairies, Timmy was. He shows certain behaviors even now such as fleeing or submitting rather than directly confronting Vicky, withdrawing rather than acting out when his classmates tease him for “talking to inanimate objects”, and frequently going out of his way to avoid causing problems for his parents, or fixing the problems they have.

Remy functions in a similar way. Chloe in some aspects is the embodiment of avoidance and submission. Both have certain things they stand up for (Remy his pride, Chloe her belief in equity), but where his parents are concerned, there’s an obvious line that Remy absolutely refuses to cross. I mean, look at him. He fights so hard to be a good boy for their affection, even if it means doing what they want and staying out of their way now in the hopes that someday they’ll thank him for doing so.

And @kapuchino357 pointed out to me the other day that when she stops stressing constantly over what her hippie exotic veterinarianparents think of her, Chloe actually gives up her vegan values and eats meat, suggesting that she only holds them to make her parents happy.

So basically, I just always assumed godparents go to kids who are walking a maladaptive path when it’s not even their own fault. It’s an avoidable thing, so godparents just set their kids’ feet right again with a safe environment and bond of trust. When everything looks good and they’re confident their charges won’t relapse after they’re gone, they send their godkids on their merry way. Not a lot of kids make it an entire year with fairies; for some, they just need a little nudge.

There are other reasons kids might get fairies, but that’s just kind of how I always saw it, anyway. Just one of the things Amity would look for in a kid. They help the kids they recognize as struggling to help themselves. Tootie may not like her sister Vicky, but she’s a stubborn fighter who still doesn’t let anyone treat her like a doormat! She’s gonna be fine.

Same goes for Chester, who isn’t miserable despite his poor circumstances. Mikey Munroe appears to be physically and emotionally neglected by his parents, so he adapted and is extremely independent and outgoing. Amanda Adams is a soft-spoken child raised by unpleasant parents, but because she’s doing okay for herself, she just got skipped over and no one looked twice.

Jack and Maddie raised a pair of tough cookies. They taught Jazz and Danny to always be curious and have a love to explore- you can just… tell by looking at their teenage selves. When faced with stressful situations as kids, Jazz and Danny pushed through and grew less stressed by them as a result. Sam learned to stand up for herself at a young age too. Fairy godparents aren’t really going to benefit them. Those fairies would be put to better use helping someone else- for example, Timmy Turner.

Vicky is such a villain for Timmy for exactly that reason- she’s tough for Timmy to deal with. Her loud and demanding personality clashes with his kindhearted and tentative one. If Jack and Maddie had left Danny with Vicky as a babysitter, it’s not like Danny would have automatically gotten fairy godparents as a result. He’s too adaptable. Vicky might be scary, surely, but he’d just sigh and never think too much about it. Just an annoyance in his life he has to deal with on occasion. As opposed to Timmy, who sees Vicky as The Worst Thing Ever™.

The rule in my family was always, “Under the age of eight, you go with Mom on errands or whenever she leaves the house. At the age of eight, you’re allowed to stay home by yourself during errands” (for reasonable periods of time, like a grocery store trip). “At the age of twelve, you can babysit younger siblings.”

I don’t agree with all of my mom’s decisions, like our massive spat about my leg hair making me “disgusting” and her absolute insistence that I have it lasered off and how morally wrong it would be for me to cut a deal with my future husband that I’ll shave my leg hair if he shaves his armpit hair because that’s “manipulative” but apparently if he demanded I do it against my will in return for nothing it wouldn’t be, but while I might argue that the situation makes me feel utterly miserable, disrespected, and violated, it’s not like I’m having a life-shattering crisis over it. I just… deal, y’know? 

She and my dad presented us all with an environment that fostered pushing through things. We were all really close with my grandfather until he shattered things a decade ago, and while the resulting emotional abuse has been horrid, I just shrug and keep living life. Avoidance quickly becomes an unhealthy pattern, skilled sailors result from rough waves, etc., etc.

TL;DR a combination of nature and nurture rendered the Fentons and Sam all but ineligible for godparents at a young age. They wouldn’t have been placed on a “Never” list for godparent eligibility, but on a “Very unlikely” list instead.

Jack and Maddie were there to encourage their kids to conquer their fears when they were young. Timmy’s parents were overly affectionate in his youth, videoing everything he did but controlling every aspect of his life. I mean, look at the way they treated Imaginary Gary! Timmy was five when his parents sent him to therapy in the hopes of shaking off his imaginary friend. 

Timmy grew up being pushed around. And unlike Sam, he didn’t push back. He chose to avoid confrontation. This behavior was reinforced because he felt comfortable avoiding his problems, rather than slightly stressed by a problem and then comfortable overcoming it like Danny, Sam, and Jazz. So, it takes a lot of stress to upset them. It only takes a small amount to upset Timmy, because he never learned healthy ways to deal with stress.

That’s why Timmy gets fairies. You don’t get fairies just to snap your fingers and blow away your problems. You get them so you feel comfortable taking it slow until you can take off the training wheels and ride by yourself. There’s no point in giving training wheels to a kid who is already riding without them.

[suprcalifraglistc-blog]

 but  tip  of  the  top ,  cream  of  the  crop ,  is  mary  po.ppins  &  there  we  stop !     my  fourth  &  final  character  is  the  jewel  of  my  heart ,  mary  po.ppins  who ,  honestly ,  is  the  ultimate  Mom  Friend .     i’ve  got  influences  for  her  from  movie ,  stage  musical ,  &  even  bits  from  the  book  so  bare  with  me  &  here  we  go  with  the  info  under  the  cut !

 PRACTICALLY  PERFECT  IN  EVERY  WAY !

 known  by  all  of  us  for  her  very  long  &  hard  to  spell  word ,  her  lesson  on  what  helps  medicine  go  down ,  &  obviously  being  the  most  famed  &  perfect  nanny  in  the  world .     she  typically  blows  in  ( literally )  to  wherever  she  may  be  needed  with  a  strong  wind  from  the  east  &  will  serve  as  a  nanny  to  children  of  troubled  families .     she  teaches  lessons  important  not  just  to  the  children  but  their  parents  as  well  until  the  family  is  mended .     at  this  point  the  winds  will  change ,  coming  from  the  west ,  &  mary  will  leave  without  a  word ,  content  that  her  work  there  is  done .    mary  is  quite  the  conundrum ,  though ,  if  you  put  too  much  thought  to  her .     why ,  how ,  &  what  she  does  is  something  she  never  explains .     however ,  it’s  not  to  worry  about  because  why  you  may  not  have  an  explanation  for  it  you  can  assume  that  whatever  she  is  doing  is  the  best  possible  thing  to  be  doing .     best  thing  to  do  is  not  question  her  &  just  accept  her  it  makes  things  much  more  delightful  with  her !     

 MARY  +  PERSONALITY  :     mary  is  never  cross  nor  cruel  nor  unpleasant  in  just  about  any  fashion .     she’s  kindhearted ,  polite  at  all  times  &  any  place ,  no  nonsense  even  when  things  have  no  sense  about  them ,  rarely  judgemental ,  observant  &  attentive ,  extremely  clever ,  & ,  really ,  the  list  goes  on .     one  thing  you  can  fault  her  on  ,  however ,  is  that  she  is  quite  vain  as  she  is  quite  aware  of  how  wonderful  she  is .     she’s  whimsical  but  yet  still  very  proper  &  elegant .     she’s  a  very  refined  person  even  when  doing  things  you  wouldn’t  exactly  call  refined  such  as  dancing  atop  a  roof  with  chimney  sweeps  &  you’d  be  surprised  how  polished  she  can  still  manage  to  even  when  her  face  is  covered  in  soot .     she’s ,  as  the  measurement  on  her  personality  tape  measure  tells  her ,  practically  perfect  in  every way .     however ,  being  practically  perfect  is  not  as  effortless  as  mary  makes  it  seem .     the  hardest  part  being  that ,  as  she  says ,  “practically  perfect  people  never  let  sentiment  muddle  their  thoughts” .     mary  strays  away  from  being  sentimental  &  forming  strong  attachments .     she  knows ,  after  all ,  that  it  would  be  foolish  to  grow  sentimental  to  people  she  will  inevitably  leave  once  the  wind  changes .     due  to  this  she  rarely  gets  extremely  close  to  people .     she’ll  make  friends ,  she’s  wonderful  at  doing  that  seeing  as  she’s  delightful  to  almost  everyone ,  but  she  practically  never  opens  up  to  people  about  herself  &  strays  form  lasting  attachments  as  to  not  let  her  heart  muddle  her  mind .    

 MARY  +  MAGIC   :     as  we  know  mary  is  capable  of  some  form  of  magic .     what  the  full  extent  of  her  magic  is ,  however ,  we  don’t  know .     things  mary  has  been  shown  to  have  done  include  but  are  not  limited  to  giving  objects  sentience  (she’s  done  this  with  jane  &  michael’s  toys  & ,  in  the  stage  version ,  statues)  as  well  as  moving  objects  with  but  a  snap  of  her  fingers  (some  kinda  telekinesis  i  guess  is  what  you’d  say  that  is) ,  flying  (via  help  of  her  umbrella  usually) ,  speaking  to  animals ,  creating  solid  structures  from  clouds  (she’s  sitting  on  a  cloud  the  start  of  the  movie  &  in  step  in  time  creates  stairs  to  the  sky  from  a  smoke  stack) ,  bringing  drawings  to  life  &  going  inside  them  as  well  as  bringing  others  with  her  into  the  drawings ,   &  transporting  to  fantastical  worlds  (bit  more  of  stuff  like  that  in  the  books) .     also  one  of  the  most  wild  accounts  of  her  magic  is  (and  i’m  not  making  this  next  part  the  fuck  up)  in  the  stage  version ,  in  the  second  act .     mary  returns  to  the  banks  household  where  they  have  replaced  her  with  mr.  banks’  old  nanny ,  ms. andrews :  a  cruel  &  horrid  woman  who  threatens  to  harm  the  children  for  running  away  &  feed  them  disgusting  medicine .     mary  has  a  sort  of  nanny  face  off  with  her  & ,  without  moving  from  the  stairs ,  mary  somehow  controls  ms. andrews  to  chug  the  entire  bottle  of  her  own  disgusting  medicine .     afterwards  the  lights  go  red  as  a  large ,  human-sized  bird  cage  rises  from  the  floor  (or  comes  out  the  wall  depends  on  what  version  you’re  seeing)  with  smoke  also  coming  out  beneath  it  &  mary  controls  ms. andrews  to  go  inside  the  cage  then  the  cage  sinks  back  into  the  floor  until  it’s  gone  along  with  ms. andrews  shrieking .     again ,  mary  never  moved  from  the  stairs  during  this  she  controlled  ms. andrews  entirely  with  her  mind .     so ,  yeah ,  shit  i  guess  mary  can  physically  control  others  with  her  mind  as  well  as  fucking  ...  damn  people  to  hell ?     because  i  literally  don’t  know  what  else  you  would  call  that ?     point  is  while  mary’s  magic  is  usually  used  for  fantastical  &  fun  purposes  . . .  she  is  powerful  &  i  suggest  you  not  mess  with  her .     from  all  that  we’ve  seen  she’s  done  it  can  be  assumed  that  mary  possess  potentially  reality  warping  magic  or  something  close  to  it  &  she  has  very  good  control  over  it .

 MARY  +  ORIGINS  :     where  did  mary  come  from  &  what  is  she  are  questions  that  have  haunted  me  for  years .     she  has  family .     in  the  book  she  states  that  uncle  albert  is  her  uncle  though ,  as  many  people  refer  to  him  as  uncle  albert ,  it’s  unclear  whether  that  is  simply  many  people  refer  to  him  as  their  uncle  or  if  he’s  an  actual  relative  of  hers .     he  is  shown  to  have  some  sort  of  magic ,  though ,  as  he  floats  when  he  laughs  &  can  cause  others  to  do  the  same  & ,  in  the  book ,  he  makes  a  mention  to  mary’s  mother  saying  that  she  would  befriend  cows  which  shows  that  uncle  albert  is  close  to  her  family  &  it  suggests  that  mary’s  mother  had  magic  as  well  &  talked  to  animals .     mary  possibly  comes  from  a  line  of  people  with  magic  though  she  seems  to  be  the  most  powerful  &  in  control  of  them  all .     i’ve  read  a  description  once  on  a  disney  website  that  said  mary  was  “a  good  fairy”  yet  in  the  book  she  does  give  some  sort  of  explanation  to  her  powers  saying  that  all  children  are  born  with  magic  like  hers  but  as  they  get  older  they  lose  that  power  &  forget  about  it  but  she  simply  never  lost  hers.     in  effort  to  mesh  these  together  i’ve  come  up  with  the  idea  that ,  yes ,  all  have  magic  at  birth  but  only  the  rarest  few  can  retain  it  after  childhood  &  that ,  in  mary’s  world ,  those  people  are  what  came  to  be  known  as  faries .     those  who  have  kept  their  magic  outside  of  childhood  are  thought  to  be  faries  since  they  were  able  to  do  that .    so ,  while  she  doesn’t  directly  call  herself  it ,  mary  is  a  good  fairy .     she  also  has  a  distinct  connection  with  the  wind  as  it  seems  to  direct  where  she  goes  &  when  she  leaves  ...  i  don’t  have  anything  for  that  perhaps  it’s  just  being  her  so  in  touch  with  the  world  &  magic .     she  also  seems  to  have  been  doing  her  nannying  job  for  quite  sometime  &  has  wisdom  beyond  her  physical  age .     with  that  i’m  going  with  that  if  you  manage  to  retain  a  considerable  amount  of  your  magic  into  adulthood ,  your  lifespan  is  expanded .     not  immortal ,  but  expanded  so  that  you’re  younger  longer  as  you  age  slower .     so  who  knows  how  old  uncle  albert  is  or  if  her  mother  is  still  alive  &  how  old  she  is  &  mary  is  much  older  than  she  appears .     because  that  makes  sense  to  me  &  i  like  it .

 WHERE  I’VE  TAKEN  HER  FROM  :     after  the  story ,  &  probably  then  some .     she’s  helped  the  banks  &  gone  to  other  homes ,  wherever  the  winds  take  her ,  &  now  the  winds  have  simply  blown  her  here  &  they’re  not  changing .     therefore  mary  believes  this  is  just  where  she’s  meant  to  be  though  this  is  the  first  time  the  winds  have  simply  brought  her  somewhere  with  no  job  to  do .     with  no  charges  to  take  care  of  she’ll  still  find  her  own  things  to  keep  her  busy  but ,  for  once  in  her  life ,  she  doesn’t  quite  know  what’s  going  on .

BULLET  POINT  RECAP !

 mary  is  a  very  wonderful  person  but  she  is  a  bit  vain  bc  she  knows  it

 mary  is  “practically  perfect  in  every  way”  but  doesn’t  let  herself  grow  personally  close  to  people  nor  does  she  let  herself  get  sentimental  bc  “practically  perfect  people  never  let  sentiment  muddle  their  thoughts”

 mary’s  magic is  fucking  powerful

 like  she  possibly  has  powers  capable  of  reality  warping 

 thank  god  she  uses  these  powers  to  help  children  rather  than  like  fucking  take  over  the  world  holy  shit

 she  sent  a  woman  to  hell  yall  what  the  fuck

 mary  comes  from  a  magic  family

 everyone  is  magical  at  birth  but  you  lose  your  magic  &  forget  about  as  you  grow

 mary  did  not  lose  it  or  forget  about

 people  like  mary  who  dont  lose  their  magic  are  what  faires  are  in  mary’s  world  so  mary  is  a  sort  of  good  fairy

 when  you  dont  lose  your  magic  when  you  grow  into  an  adult  you  age  slower  making  you  younger  longer  so  mary’s  older  than  she  looks  &  has  been  nanning  probably  for  decades 

 mary  knows  she’s  supposed  to  be  here ,  as  this  is  where  she  was  taken  to  by  the  wind ,  but  doesn’t  really  get  why  there’s  no  specific  nanny  job  for  her  to  do  here .

THIS  IS  THE  END !   TIME  FOR  SHORT  HEADCANONS !

 WHAT  BERT  IS  TO  HER  :    bert  is ,  easily ,  the  closest  to  mary .     there’s  still  a  lot  he  doesn’t  know  about  her ,  as  she  does  her  best  to  keep  him  at  arm’s  length ,  but  he  does  know  her  more  than  others  &  is  who  she  spends  most  her  free  time  alongside  when  she  can .     however ,  the  more  time  she  spends  with  bert  the  more  she  finds  herself  becoming  fond  of  him ,  far  more  fond  than  she  is  of  most .     while  she  won’t  admit  it  bert   has  earned  a  special  place  in  her  heart  &  she  looks  forward  to  those  second  tuesdays  off  when  she ,  no  children  by  her  side ,  gets  to  see  him  &  spend  the  day  with  him .     she  limits  herself  to  only  those  second  tuesdays  to  have  this  personal  time  with  him ,  though ,  because  any  more  time  &  sentiment  may  just  muddle  her .

 MARY’S  NEVER  PHASED :     she’s  literally  never  shocked  or  surprised  or  lost  for  words .     there’s  only  a  few  things  that  could  possibly   be  capable  of  rendering  her  speechless .     VERY  few  things .     this  isn’t  just  because  she’s  the  most  perfect  person  alive  but  also  because  she’s  honestly  seen  &  been  put  through  some  SHIT .     she’s  a  nanny  for  troubled  families  &  not  all  those  troubles  are  limited  to  things  like  a  father  who  ignores  his  children ,  is  run  by  the  stress  of  his  job ,  &  has  no  time  for  his  family .     whatever  mary  is ,  she  is  surely  a  saving  guardian  angel  to  some  children  out  there  who  she’s  been  to .

 MORE  POSSIBLY  COMING  LATER !