#now at the cost of her own childhood being robbed from her

[aceparagoned]

In reference to this post I made about a couple of weeks ago, I'd like to go further into depth of how Hikaru's Crux was studied. In this headcanon, please be mindful of the following content warnings: child abuse, torture in a medical setting, and the ethics surrounding human experimentation in the name of "science."

When Hikaru was born and her Crux was discovered, scientists were intrigued on how this particular human could have developed another organ in the womb when her own mother, Katsumi, didn't have one. During Katsumi's entire pregnancy, the additional organ was discovered during routine ultrasounds, but there were discussions into the ethics of testing on an unborn fetus that could lead to Katsumi possibly miscarrying. Not just that, but Tamotsu, Hikaru's father, objected to the point of practically almost getting arrested for threatening to hurt the scientists that wanted to experiment on his wife and unborn daughter.

So, they held off until Hikaru was born so as to carry out their experiments when the Crux was fully developed.

This wasn't met without a great deal of resistance from not just Katsumi, but Hikaru's father, Tamotsu. The both of them vehemently argued to not test their daughter at all, thinking that she deserved so much more than being nothing more than something to gawk at because of being born with something else that no one else, at the time, possessed. For at least five years, Hikaru was able to grow up in a happy family until she was voluntarily given up to participate in the PIPE's training program in an attempt to turn the tides of war. They only gave her up on the promise that no experiments would be carried out on her because of her Crux.

The PIPE, desperate to continue living instead of losing the war against the Gnocem, promised they did. However, promises can be broken and it's one of the PIPE's horrible secrets that they've kept under lock and key this entire time.

See, after Hikaru had been given up by her parents, things were okay for a time. She was properly cared for, treated with respect, and told that things were going to be okay. That was, until, the same scientists who were intrigued when she was still in her mother's womb arrived and brokered a deal with the PIPE: they can test on her all they wanted if it'd produced the results they were looking for and that was to be humanity's weapon in the fight against the Gnocem. The deal was agreed upon and this is where things had taken a turn for the worst for Hikaru, who still was a child at this point.

At first, the experimentation wasn't that bad. Just a few shots and blood tests, really. But when that didn't reveal anything regarding the capabilities of Hikaru's Crux, they had to get "creative" with their testing and by being "creative", they resorted to procedures where sights like these [CW: needles in image] were unfortunately common practice with Hikaru strapped to a cold, metal surgical table and pleading for them to stop hurting her and that she was sorry for whatever she did to deserve this punishment.

Sadly, her pleas fell on deaf ears because it went so much further than just injecting her with multiple drugs. They wanted to see how she'd be able to heal and how much pain she could withstand. So, they went through with not just stabbing and lacerating her, but full on maiming by shooting her through her hands and feet. Again, her cries for mercy went ignored. However, these extreme methods of testing her endurance and pain tolerance finally paid off during her training regimen that she was still expected to go through. They ultimately made her stronger, and in their eyes fortunately able to withstand much more in terms of increased training.

Yet, no one thought about how she was still just a child. During these experiments and training, they slowly whittled away the bright and happy girl that started on this because she was promised that she was gonna be a hero and save the day! How could a child resist that? The PIPE and the scientists kept on saying that this was all in the name of making her a hero, like they promised she'd be.

Was being a hero worth all this pain and misery, though? That was one of Hikaru's many thoughts while she was in her room, quietly sobbing into her pillow at night until she finally was able to sleep, having passed out from the pain and discomfort she was in. Hikaru also learned that no matter how many times she cried or apologized, they'd still carry out the experiments on her, so eventually she'd just lie there and take it, trying to not make a single noise for fear that it'd only ramp up the experiments' intensity on her.

And the way that she was rewarded for this? They simply gave her treats, which were one of her only comforts. She couldn't contact her parents to tell them what was going on and the reports that they received told them that Hikaru was being well taken care of and was happy. Nothing was wrong in their eyes, even as they kept on forgetting the most important aspect of this whole matter: Hikaru was still a child. Yet, if it produced results such as giving them little victories here and there on the war, so be it — they would continue this extreme training regimen and keep on lying to her parents that she was being treated the way that they had promised. To this day, they still don't know what sort of hell their own daughter has been through and Hikaru doesn't want to upset them by telling them the truth, either, because of how these experiments gave them the stability that they have today.

As Hikaru grew up and became more powerful (along with being broken down and molded back into what the PIPE wanted of her), the experiments eventually ceased altogether, but this gave her a lasting fear of anything medical because of the hell she was put through. As previously mentioned, Hikaru is very critical of others tending to her injuries that she sustains in fights since she'd rather be the one to patch herself up because she doesn't trust anyone else to do it. Those in the medbay only admonish her for getting hurt for the umpteenth time and don't have any sympathy for her, no matter how grievous the injury really is. So, she'll often be by herself, dressing her own wounds while trying to stifle her sounds of discomfort however possible. This behavior of hers is still prevalent to this day because of how deep seated her own fear of anything medical is concerned — all because the PIPE saw her as nothing more than a weapon instead of a human being.

As far as anyone's concerned, the PIPE is heralded as this pillar of strength and hope, but no one publicly knows just what it took to get there. It's still classified information that only those who are higher up the food chain are privy to and have sworn to never reveal to the public the atrocities they committed to attain the semblance of peace that they have today. Anyone who tries to speak up about the human rights abuses they committed is silenced, never to be seen nor heard from again.

To Watanabe and others, the PIPE is nothing more than a shining beacon of peace and prosperity in the world and nothing shall ever taint that pristine image that they've cultivated for themselves all these years.

[villainanders]

agh i wanna hear about your cousland so bad!! what kind of person is she what’s her relationship w sir gilmore why did she side w the templars 👀👀

ahh i hadnt checked my askbox in a few days so just saw this but thank you for asking anon i love you!!

her name is roisin cousland and she's been very fun to play so far bc i didn't have much of a vision for her at the start beyond "cousland who marries Alistair but has leliana as her mistress at the end". (also this picture - the source of which i cannot find its from pinterest - which made me go FUCK i need to start my cousland playthrough) so seeing the way she's been developing has been very fun.. she starts out as, while very capable and a talented warrior and seemingly cool under pressure, deeply privileged and frankly naive about the reality of the world. she sees no reason why she can't live a charmed life as a ladyknight and eventually a great lady in her own right!

of course this all comes crashing down in the most horrific way imaginable in her origin as she suddenly basically realizes that she has been in an entirely different genre than she believed. you thought this was chivalric romance? this is dark fantasy bitch! this fucked up world ate everyone she ever loved so she needs to bite back, and hard, before it eats her too. basically roisin is grappling -- and badly so -- with how brutal she needs to be survive in a world that is fundamentally unjust beyond anything she imagined. that's why she sides with the templars -- she doesn't want to see the mages hurt, but she saw horrors beyond comprehension in the tower and imagines that a response that echoes that same swiftness and brutality must be the only way to respond.

but at the same time she's still kind of naive and getting used to living outside of her nobility bubble.. funniest part of this playthrough was when they met bandits on the road and i realized she would not realize she was being robbed so she just earnestly paid their tax not realizing how weird it was or how expensive it was. (it's one highway tax, alistair, what could it cost? 500 silver?)

i'm still playing in relatively early stages of the game so I'm not totally sure where this is going from here, though i imagine she's going grow past this stage of her grief and understand that mercy and hope have their place as well (this is making me realize it might be cool to do the dalish quest last so making peace can be the conclusion to that arc... hmmm) but we shall see where it goes. right now I'm obsessed with her dynamic with zevran they make me laugh every time they talk because roisin only let him live bc she was fresh out of ostagar (s/o to zev asap mod) and having just witnessed a SECOND brutal betrayal with unimaginably bloody consequences, was really starting to settle into "the only way to save the world is to start REALLY playing dirty. even if it means working with this awful reprehensible assassin. i might need someone this morally bankrupt to win" but ofc as she very slowly begins to start talking to zevran she starts to realize that assassin = evil is not as simple as she thought and that she unfortunately sees a lot of herself in this guy that seems so different from her. so i think that's going to be an important friendship in how she ultimately grows

as for her and gilmore, they were childhood friends growing up, but i think their relationship is probably going to break down a bit as time goes on. I'm still getting to know him via the mod, but the impression i have right now is that he's still very idealistic despite what he went through in highever, and i think it's going to upset and frustrate him to see someone he loves coping with the same thing in such an opposite way, in the same way it's currently pissing off roisin that he isn't drawing the same conclusions about the world from their experience that she did

[lilacprincesstears]

Sad Girl Supercut (Serena Cries at Commercials)

A rotten place,

Where no one notices my fallen face.

A solemn fate,

For what was once a site of grace.

Call it hate,

Call it love gone wrong,

Or loss of taste.

But you don't want me

As an occupant of my own space.

Spill the contents of my torso

For a moment of your touch.

Wanting to tell you about my day,

But I've already said too much.

~

Corpse queen,

Looming over a frozen expanse.

The head of a crumbled dynasty,

Reduced to a pitiful figure,

Not woman, but symbol

Of abandon and ruin.

Her armies departed,

Her cities vacant,

She cries out into the expanse

For the heavens to strike her down.

An end to the misery

Is all she desires.

She lies down dizzy

In her chilly wedding bed,

Where her love, the witch,

Had rolled and kissed her

All those years ago.

~

I howl in my bed,

For everything I lost,

And what this cost me.

My chubby belly aches,

Cuz I can't feed myself,

Or lift my feet up.

I'm sleeping in my bra,

Because I'm not at home,

And they can't see me

Like you saw me

In my soft and powder white.

~

If my job knew everything they cost me.

Everything I lost

All because my stupid job.

I lost everything I know in the world,

All because my job,

My stupid fucking job.

I'm so stupid for still working at my job,

I'm a stupid slob,

I'm a stupid bitch.

I'm so tired of worrying on the job,

When I'm at my job,

Mt nasty filthy job.

Wake up puking cuz Ive gotta do my job,

Life's so fucking wrong,

I cry all night long,

About my stupid job.

I should really quit my little job,

My shitty little job,

Every day I'm robbed.

I feel useless, they're abusive,

I've been wronged.

They made me lose my home,

I'm a-fucking-lone,

I can't afford my loans,

And still I break my bones,

Just to please my job.

~

Almost like a little tiny baby ant,

Half stepped on,

Trying to peel the mushy parts

Off the dirty road,

With the parts that still work.

Maybe I'll make it,

But that is yet to be determined.

~

Rose, cherry, patchouli, amber,

Pink, black, lace, velvet.

Mushrooms, kittens, hearts, moons,

Incense, candles, oil perfumes.

Crab rangoons, sushi yachts,

Special sandwich.

Your special sandwich.

Sausage,

Sliced in half,

Broccoli and carrots sauteed in soy,

Red Sriracha on the top bun,

Green Sriracha on the bottom.

So many tiny weapons wielded

By vicious memory,

In it's unending attack

On my fragile psyche.

They come in shapes and forms.

~

An understanding feeling,

Between two human beings

What I need from new people

Is too much to ask.

Anyone who comes

To know me now,

Is taking on a sick sad girl.

A painting of a barmaid,

Whose tepid smile reveals

A dwindling inner light.

A not-quite-person

With sores

In places you can't see.

A washed up former housewife,

A would be prodigy gone wrong.

The thing about me,

Is I just want to feel the music,

And dance with someone who looks at me,

Like someone who is beautiful.

I just want to feel somebody

Feel me as I am.

I want to learn to hold somebody else's hand.

I want to stand on windy mountaintops,

With a companion by my side.

I want to fall asleep on beaches,

Until we're washed out by the tides.

I want to go to the amusement parks,

And hold them tight on all the rides.

To be chosen,

Longed for,

Adored.

Could that ever be me?

A giantess

With hairy legs

This unflattering frame.

Who is always afraid,

And almost always ashamed.

The crazy thing about being with you

Was that I almost felt safe.

~

For so long Serena seemed sure of herself.

At present, she stares into the furnace

Through the logs, the flames,

The embers and the ashes.

Through the wall,

Into the guts of her childhood home.

She puts perfume on,

Though there's nobody to smell it.

Nobody to drink her in.

Her head is through the furnace.

There's a painting of a dead cat

On the wall

She painted it a long time ago

With her sister, in the winter,

In the garage.

She's remembering someone and

Grieving her life.

Watching but not watching the

Television set.

Favorite shows turn to background noise

When she's staring through the wall

At the guts of the house.

She wonders if she's become sick.

She wonders if she'll detach from reality.

But she'll stay tethered, because she has to.

If not for herself, then for the few that love her.

Focus finally out of the guts,

Her attention turns to the TV.

She cries at commercials.

[innocentimouto]

Double standards with Jetara and the other one.

Maybe I should expand on this differently, but the double standards people have with Jet and Katara vs Zuko and Katara is embarrassing.

“He almost made her kill innocent people. Things almost went horribly. She should never be with him for that.”

Zuko invaded her home. How do you think she felt? Her mom died because of her, and now the Fire Nation was back again because of her. The Fire Nation made it impossible for them to feel safe in their own homes. Where do you think Sokka’s paranoia comes from?

Zuko almost burned Sokka. Zuko almost harmed her grandmother. Zuko almost killed a child. Zuko took Aang away, someone Katara grew close to.

Katara’s grief is loss. Losing her mother. Losing fun. Losing a part of her culture. Losing her childhood. Losing her father. Losing security. Losing Kya’s necklace. Losing Aang. Losing trust.

It’s always loss. The first episodes established the characters, but a lot happened also.

Zuko does burn down a village. He almost kills the people in it.

Zuko again tries to take Aang. Again Katara has to fight to save the people she cares about. This time she can fight; she knows how to bend.

Yet she still loses Aang.

Zuko almost dies with Aang. That could have cost them the war. Zuko almost robbed a couple and only stopped because the woman was expecting.

I don’t know how to tell you this, but that is literally ‘not as bad as he could have been’. Pulling out a weapon on two civilians who had to flee their home because of the Fire Nation and now they’re being threatened?

Zuko almost captures Appa with plans to use him to lure out Aang. After all of Appa’s suffering.

Zuko completely sends an assassin after the Gaang to kill Aang.

Zuko almost did so much. And a lot of it affects Katara. But she forgave him so it’s all good. An apology is enough.

Not with Jet apparently. If he succeeded it would completely horrify Katara, but you can’t pretend it wouldn’t be the same with Zuko’s actions if not worse because Zuko threatened her loved ones numerous times.

Do you think she wouldn’t devastated if Aang died in the blizzard in Book 1? Or if Zuko or his crew killed someone from her tribe? Or if Zuko held onto the necklace and never returned it? Or if Combustion Man killed Aang?

Honestly I think she’d be worse.

I don’t think Zuko and Katara together would be toxic, and I have a lot of issues with Zuko’s writing. Katara has seen Zuko at his worst. If she ever chose to be with him, it would only be if he actually changed, so any actual toxicity probably wouldn’t exist.

My point is that it doesn’t make sense that Zuko and Katara are acceptable but Jet and Katara aren’t. It is literally canon that Zuko has done more harm to Katara than Jet.

If you hate both ships, it would make more sense.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Natasha x Reader A Second Chance At Goodbye pt.2

It had two days since your encounter with Natasha, and even with Billy's constant pestering to talk to her. You were still holding out and refusing to go anywhere near her. While she wasn't able to figure out exactly what she had done to hurt you so much. Natasha knew it was best to keep her distance from you until she could get to the bottom of your pain. Which felt impossible considering you were angry at her for something she did seven years into the future, and in order to make sure. Everything played out the way it was supposed to neither you or Billy could share any information with them.

"Nat maybe you should try and talk to her again. It can't hurt" Steve told her leaning up against the doorframe to her room.

Natasha had been holed up in her room for the entire day trying to piece together what your words meant.

"It was in the best interest of the world not me"

What could she have possibly done that saved the world, but costed her you?

"Yes it can she hates me Steve" she replied trying to blink the tears in her eyes away. Not many people in the world could make her shed a tear, but you were one of them. Natasha knew from the moment she laid eyes on you during a raid on a Hydra lab. That she would do anything to keep you safe, and care for you like you were own daughter. She would give you the childhood she was robbed of, and give you all her love.

A few tears managed to slip and fell down her face, and that was all it took for Steve to cross the room. So he could pull her into his arms as she finally broke down sobbing into his shoulder. Her cries were so loud that Billy could hear them two rooms down. He decided to stay on the main floor after you sent him away earlier that day with a couple of bruised ribs. Maybe he was being too pushy with the whole talk to your mom lectures, but no matter how you felt. It didn't give you the right to make your mom feel this way especially when she wasn't even aware of what she had done. It wasn't fair and Billy was going to make sure that you got the closure. That you so desperately needed to move on rather you liked or not.

The next morning he was waiting outside Natasha's bedroom for her to come out. Billy knew exactly what he needed to do to give the both of you a second chance at goodbye. And as long as everything went according to plan then you would leave this timeline with no more pain in your heart.

"Hey it's Billy right did you need something kid?" Natasha asked him running a hand through her hair. She didn't get much sleep last night and it was noticeable. From the bags under her eyes to how tussled her hair was.

"No not exactly I wanted to help you" He told her nervously looking away. None of the original Avengers knew it, but they were practically legends to him. And it was still mind-blowing to be here interacting with them in the original tower.

"Okay what do you want to help me with?

"Y/N"

Nat let out an exasperated sigh and walked over placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Look I know she's your friend and from the looks of things. You and my daughter are pretty close in the future, so it must suck to see her hurting so much. But I know for a fact that the reason you're on this floor is; because she gave you a mean kick to the gut yesterday. I appreciate you trying so hard to get her to work things out with me, but maybe what I did is truly unforgivable. And it's time for both of us to accept that maybe we can work it out in the future."

Billy's eyes widened as he realized that Natasha hadn't put two and two together yet, or maybe she had and just didn't want to believe it. Either way he knew there was no working it out later. You had to face this now or there wouldn't be another opportunity ever. Plus Natasha deserved to have a proper goodbye with her daughter. If anything he at least wanted to give her that.

"No it has to be now both of you are hurting, and I don't like it. I can do a spell to give you your memories from the future for about an hour. After that the memories will fade away and you won't remember a thing. Which mean the timeline won't be in danger of changing" Billy explained.

Natasha opened her mouth but no words came out as she ponder his plan. Deep down inside she knew the only way to get you to listen to her was to know exactly what had happened, and this was her best option.

"Are you up for it?" Billy asked her with a determined look in his eyes.

"Yeah I mean you are a master sorcerer right. So what do you need me to do?"

"Um yeah kinda" Billy answered trying to sound confident. He was definitely not a master sorcerer but this was a simple temporary memory restoration spell. It was on his level and he had done it before. "Nothing just close your eyes and prepare yourself for the memory flood."

Natasha nodded closing her eyes as he placed his hands on either side of her head. They started to glow blue as he started to chant the words to the spell. At first she felt nothing and thought maybe it was ridiculous to put her faith in a teenager. But then out of nowhere a rush of images all trying to play out at the same time hit her, and it was almost too much for her to take. But then the very last memory came, and nothing else mattered. As she finally realized why you hated her so much?

Her eyes flew open as Billy finished the spell and took a step back to wait for her reaction.

She backed herself into the wall and slid to the floor with tears in her eyes as she came to terms with the realization of her death. "I never said goodbye no letter or anything. I just died and left her all alone." Even though all the other memories leading up to that moment were present in her mind. She paid them no attention because it didn't matter. The only thing she could think about was you at Tony's cabin waiting for her to return with all the other heroes.

"What about Clint? Is he you know I don't know what happens after I-" Her voice cut off as she looked Billy in the eyes for the first time. Her tone was desperate because she knew there was a chance. He might not be able to tell her the fate of her fellow Avengers. Would the spell make her forget those things as well?

Billy wasn't sure if he should say anything or not, but the pleading look in her eyes made his decision for him. "No he makes out alive but y/n isn't on speaking terms with him in the future. She sorta blames him for what happened to you."

He didn't know to much about what your relationship with Clint was like prior to Nat's death. No one really did not even Kate despite being her best friend whenever her mentor came around. You tended to disappear till he was gone, and if you stuck around. Kate made sure to that Clint steered clear of you. It was a miracle she was able to befriend at you at all, or at least that's what she told the rest of the team.

"But it was my choice and Clint is like a father to her" Natasha protested.

"It doesn't matter apparently her aunt Yelena tried to kill mister Clint once, because she blamed him too for your death. And y/n found out about it and didn't do anything to stop her."

Her eyes widened at that news "please tell me Yelena doesn't actually do it."

Billy shook his head realizing that he was probably telling her too much. But it was too late the floodgates were open and he couldn't stop now. "Clint was able to convince her it was your choice, and there was nothing he could do. But he was never able to get y/n to forgive him. She's angry with you more than anything, but she hates him."

Natasha placed her head in her arms as she tried to process all the information. She had just learned so she did choose saving the world over you, but it wasn't as black and white as you made out to be. Well maybe it was black and white to you considering Natasha was truly the most important person in the world to you, and you were to her. Plus you had only been twelve years old when all of this had happened, and not knowing how to deal with that grief. You probably just bottled the emotions up and tried to move on without dealing with it. Seeing her after all those years definitely broke the cap on those pent up feelings.

Nat finally stood up walking in the direction of the elevator. She patted Billy on the head as she passed him. "Thanks Billy my daughter has a good friend and hero in you. Now I believe it's time for me to go say goodbye."

Billy just stood there in shock that the Black Widow called him a good hero.

Location: Thor's Floor

You were buried underneath a mountain of blankets waiting impatiently for Billy to come bursting in the room. Announcing that he had finally found the spell he needed to take the two of you back home. The sooner you could escape the past the better, because it all your resistance to. Not go to your mother and just fall into her arms crying. That was all you wanted to do since your eyes landed on her, but then feeling of betrayal resurfaced. Reminding of how hurt you was when she didn't come back from the battle with Thanos.

Maybe you weren't being totally fair but she could have at least wrote you a letter. Just in case Nat knew it was a possibility she wouldn't come back, but still didn't prepare for it. All Clint could tell was that she loved you and had no choice. But you already knew that what you wanted to know was why did it have to be her? It just wasn't fair.

There was a rapid knock at the door bringing you out of your own thoughts. It was probably Billy with some new speech prepared to try and convince you to talk to your mom. While a part of you actually missed your friend and could use some cuddles. You knew if you opened that door that there was a good chance that. You would finally give in to his demands and agree to talk to Nat, so you figured it was best to leave him out there.

But then your ears perked up at the sound of the door opening. You stayed under the covers refusing to acknowledge his presence. Till the mystery person spoke up and made your entire body freeze with her words.

"It's me again sweetheart and I know everything. I know what I did to make you so upset with me, and I just want to start off by saying I'm sorry."

You closed your eyes trying to keep all the feelings buried inside of you. She was bluffing there was no way she could know the truth. She just wanted you to talk to her.

"Y/N moya lyubov' I'm sorry I left you all alone and didn't even say goodbye. In that moment all I could think was my promise to do whatever it took to save our family and friends."

You shot up throwing the blankets off of you. "What about your promise to come back to me mom? Did you think about that one at all?" Your vision was blurry because of all the tears that had built up with an endless waterfall streaming down your face. You could no longer keep the pain at bay, and when Natasha strolled over to climb into bed. You didn't stop her nor did you pull away when her arms wrapped around you pulling your body to hers. Then she laid down bringing you with her as with your face buried in her chest as you cried.

"I promise you were all that I could think about in that moment too. I remembered how much you missed Peter, and the glow in your eyes were never the same. Whenever you played with Morgan, and how you shied away from Carol or Pepper whenever they came near you. Because neither of them was aunt Yelena and couldn't replace her. I remember how you broke down into tears when the pet pig grandma Melina gave you died; because it was the last living piece of her you had. I remember you playing "Miss American Pie" over and over again because Alexei sang it so many times for you. I remember how much you missed your family and friends, and knew that I had to do whatever it took to bring them back."

Every single word was true and brought a heart wrenching sob out. As you clung to your mother like your life depended on it. She was right when you she came home, and explained to you that some of the Avengers, and your family was gone. You thought she was joking till she took you to visit the family farm, and it was empty. You wrapped yourself up in Yelena's suit and cried yourself to sleep in her arms that night. You weren't the same just like everyone else in the world. There was a giant hole in your heart where your loved ones use to be, but unlike everyone else in the world. Who got all their loved ones back you were just left with another hole after Thanos was defeated. This one bigger, more painful and permanent.

"I know it's not fair sweetheart god it kills me to know that I'm not there for you in the future. But please know that not a day goes by where I'm not watching over, and whispering my love to you. Even though you can't hear me I promise I always there. I know you miss me and I'm sorry things had to be this way for us. But I'm so proud of the hero you have become, and there will come a day where we will be together again." Natasha pressed a soft kiss to your forehead as your body shivered in her arms.

"I'm sorry mom you know I don't hate right I just wish you could be there with me. I love you more than anyone and it just hurts so much" You whispered.

"I know baby but it will pass I promise but you gotta face the emotions head on. No more bottling it up and please stop blaming Clint. He fought me every inch of the way and lost because I mean I'm just better."

Her last statement made you laugh for the first time since you arrived, and it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. She chuckled along "I'm serious though y/n give Clint a break I'm pretty sure it's killing him to have you hate him."

You knew without a doubt she was right considering all the times. Kate would come to you pleading after a visit with him to give him a chance to explain himself. It nearly cost you your friendship with her telling her no and to stop asking. Deep down you knew it was wrong to put Clint through that, but you wanted someone to suffer along with. "I will apologize the second I see him mom I promise."

Natasha nodded before tightening her hold on you. "Good now just let me hold you for the next thirty-five minutes. Before the spell wears off and I lose all the memories."

"Is there anything you want aunt Yelena to know?" You murmured snuggling into her more.

"I'll write a letter in a few just let me hold on y/n."

And she did for the next thirty minutes the two of you cuddled each other in silence. With five minutes to spare she got up and wrote a letter for to Yelena. Then the memories were gone and she was back to being just past Natasha, but she didn't realize that Billy's plan had worked. Until you jumped off out of bed and asked for her to show a few signature moves while you were there. Something that your aunt Yelena wouldn't know and you could beat her with.

It took Billy another day to finally get the spell he needed from the Ancient One, so he could the two of you home. You had spent your last moments bonding with Natasha. It really did hurt to have to leave her again, but with the letter to Yelena tucked inside your jacket. You embraced your mom in a tight hug telling her you loved her and goodbye. Before going over and taking Billy's hand he had enjoyed his time getting to know the OG Avengers, and couldn't wait to share his stories with his brother and Hulkling. Both would be jealous beyond comparison.

"Ready to go back home y/n" Billy asked his tone bittersweet.

"Not really but I got to say I do feel happier than before. Thank you for that Billy" You told him.

"Hey what are friends for" was his last words. Before he started chanting and blue energy started too swirl around the two of you. Just like the last time you caught sight of Natasha waving at you, and mouthing the words "I love you" as you disappeared.

The spell dumped both of you at the same location you disappeared from. It was the evening and the two of you wasted no time in getting back to the compound knowing your. Fellow teammates were probably worrying themselves to death trying to figure out what happened. Especially Kate considering she was the leader and had sent you two alone to deal with the magical disturbance. The archer was pacing back and forth in the common room, while everyone else sat around looking sad. When the elevator doors opened and revealed you and Billy alive and in one piece.

Kate let out a cry of relief and reached both of you first throwing an arm around both of your necks. Pulling you into a three-way hug with the others joining in a few seconds later. Tommy was the one who recovered enough first to ask.

"What the hell happened to you guys?"

"Billy did a time traveling spell instead of a teleportation one, and got us stuck in the past" You explained. Letting out a chuckle when Tommy punched his brother in the arm.

"Bro you went time traveling without me" he whined.

Billy shoved his brother then moved his hand to rub his now sore arm. "It wasn't a planned trip Tommy it just sort of happened."

Kate had pulled you away from the group to make sure you were good. Her best friend instincts telling her that something about had changed since she last seen you. "How far in the past did he take you guys?"

"Way too far my mother was alive" You answered her with a small smile. Placing a hand on her shoulder as her eyes widened in panic. "It's okay Kate we talked and I'm in a much better place now."

Kate raised an eyebrow at you and looked away with a guilty look. "How much of a better place?"

You squeezed her shoulder in encouragement. "A great place why? what's wrong?"

"Clint is here because I called him in on the third day when we couldn't find you guys. I was super worried y/n and needed his help. He's actually scared that something really bad happened to you especially, so could you please just be nice to him." Kate begged you making a pleading sign with her hands, and giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

"Relax Katie I'll be nice actually I owe Clint an apology and maybe even lunch. I should've forgave him a long time ago if we're being honest."

Kate shot you a look in disbelief. "Are you serious y/n?"

"Yes I am" you reassured her just as Clint rounded the corner, and you made a beeline for him to pull him into a heartfelt hug. Kate watched the two of you whisper to each other closely waiting for you to disappear with Clint. Then she went over and tapped Billy on the shoulder to get his attention. She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen when he turned around.

Once they were out of earshot of the group. Kate smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow easy why am I the only to get abused?" Billy complained taking a few steps away from her.

"Billy I know for a fact that each spell in that book of yours comes with. The reversal spell you would need to fix any accidental spell-casting. You lied to y/n and stressed me and this whole team out for days. Why did you do it?" Kate demanded to know.

Billy was already prepared to answer this question knowing that Kate would see flaw in the story. She was the leader for a reason it was her job to know her teammates. His gaze flickered in your direction as you appeared with Clint in tow headed for the elevator. "I really did use the time traveling spell on accident, but I chose to stay for y/n."

"Both of them deserved a second chance at goodbye."

Taglist: @wandanatvoid @yelenabelovasgf @romanoffomixam @xxromanoffxx @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mellowladyangel @shayzulia @musicinourlips @cyberbonesworld @natashasilverfox @jokertgkk @be-missed @lizlil @sweetmissnothing @simpforflorencepugh1 @nameforthemain @sammi1642 @i-writes-things @catswag22

[samtheflamingomain]

iq is unfaaaaaaiir

I believe I could quite literally pen an entire saga on the unbelieveably underrated Malcolm In The Middle. I'm talking PHD-level.

But recently, a new angle hit me. After writing thousands of words on poverty, family, even individual episodes, it hit me: Malcolm is also about intelligence.

That sounds like a very profoundly stupid statement given the premise of the show. But while the earlier seasons, and the majority of the show, focuses on Malcolm's intelligence, just as much, I'd argue, do they focus on the "stupidity" of his brothers.

I've written a lot about intelligence, which I think is a bullshit concept. I don't think it's a metric that's measurable or important or accurate or practical or moral or or or. Even with the horrible definition of the concept, I don't think anyone is unintelligent.

I mean, I'm "unintelligent" about cars. Cannot picture a Honda Civic. But I know my history and geography. My friend Rob cannot name the early Roman Emperors. But he can diagnose a car problem with ease. Neither of these are inherently better skills than the other. Depends on the context. In fact, him knowing cars is faaaar more valuable an ability than being like "actually, Julius Caesar wasn't killed by Brutus" Fuck I hate "~intelligence~"

MITM completely reinforces my sentiment. Reese is seen as the dumbest of the brothers - but he's a master chef. Dewey isn't seen as wildly intelligent until he's sat in front of a piano and we see him become a virtuoso. Francis is cunning and crafty and uses his brand of intelligence in a variety of ways to get ahead. Hal painted the best painting anyone had ever seen. Lois runs a family of 5. I don't think anyone will say that doesn't necessitate a level of intelligence.

Lastly, Malcolm. He's textbook intelligent. But, I'd argue, textbook-only.

The guy fumbles every relationship, friend or otherwise, that he possibly can. He's extremely out-of-touch with reality at points, and again arguable, but I think he's the least self-aware of the boys, and that's saying something.

In fact, if asked who's the most intelligent, I'd say Dewey. Not once did he actually, on his own, due to his own unintelligent actions, cause himself any hardship or ruin the family or cost them money (except the time he stole that booze but he was like what, 7?). He's self-aware, and he's very emotionally intelligent, knowing how and when to approach others. But, there's an asterisk.

Dewey is a special character because he starts out at no older than 7. After 9 seasons, I believe when Malcolm is 18, he's around 14. We see him, and only him, go from absolute child to absolute cognizant teen. Malcolm is well into his 11th or 12th year of life at the start. Dewey is the only one whose early childhood (minus Jamie) we get to see.

If I had to pick the "dumbest" brother, it wouldn't be Reese. He made some seriously bad choices (the goddamn garage sale haunts me) but they were made more out of a desire NOT to seem stupid than actual stupidity. No. Francis is unfortunately the dumbest Wilkerson.

While cunning and somewhat capable of getting out of trouble… he starts as the sibling sent to military school. And he's the least-respected cadet there.

I dunno about you, but I certainly got that threat in childhood. Of course I see its emptiness now, of course my parents weren't going to pay for me to go to school. But at the time? Having seen MITM? Solid threat. 10/10.

The early episode with Bebe really shows his lack of foresight, and Piyama's "Okay, I didn't buy food I bought lottery tickets" breaks my heart whenever I think of it because his stupidity has seeped out of him into her.

One more character specifically: there's many a time Hal is shown to be "stupid".

As a quick aside, I think the 4 main boys (sorry Jamie) can easily be traced to one parent or the other. Francis and Dewey take after Hal, Malcolm and Reese take after Lois. The former are much, much more laid-back and creative and crafty. The latter are hot-headed, impulsive, but calculating. Feel free to roast this take, I ain't dyin on this hill, just a thought.

Back to Hal. There's one, one single episode that proves Hal is a goddamn genius. The painting one is good. The skating one is amazing especially if you just watch the video on Youtube and imagine he's Walter White roller skating to Queen in a middle0 school playground.

The "I don't work on Fridays" episode.

If you know you know, if you don't, buckle up. Hal has been acused by his company of something nefarious, but all the odd transactions were made on Fridays. He realizes this very early in his "trial" and gets Malcolm to get him a box from the house while he stalls.

Cut to a montage of the lawyer naming dates - all Fridays - and Hal pulling out a ticket or a pass or a wristband etc. to prove he wasn't in the office on that particular day - all Fridays. Went to a movie, a race, a whatever.

He gets off, of course. But then cut to Lois screaming in his face, YOU NEVER WENT TO WORK ON FRIDAYS???? Honestly? Based, girl, get his ass.

All this to say, I think MITM has a lot more to say about intelligence than solely in its main character. There's a reason the show works so well. Even in early seasons before Reese cooks, Dewey makes music and Francis wrangles horses. I've given the most concrete examples I could come up with, but by the end of season 1, I think through watching each character, it's hard to say "yeah everyone's dumb but Malcolm".

And while I know they meant for Malcolm to be a standout, textbook smart kid, I honestly don't think they meant to portray any character as stupid - including Reese.

It's easy to forget, but the show is told from Malcolm's point of view. It's not neutral, it's not fair, it's not unbiased. It's the lens he sees life through. I'm sure he sees Reese as an idiot. But objectively he isn't. It's a very subtle, very effective use of an unreliable narrator.

Almost done I promise.

I love the S1 picnic episode. "What's the capital of Iceland?!" "Reykjavik… but that's not math" will always be my absolute favorite line. But it's the first episode where the entire family sits in silence, in awe, in confusion, at what Malcolm just did (crazy math onstage at the picnic). I don't care much for the "oh they'll think I'm weird" angle, because, well, it is weird to be able to do that. I always loved the way Hal tells Dewey that Malcolm is just "really, really, really smart". Cuz honestly, that's all it is. IQ. He can do math things. I can do memorization. Doesn't inherently make us smart, but it's an easy way to both diffuse the tension and appease the curious mind of a 7yo.

When I told my mother I knew every single capital city, she made it her fucking mission in life to catch me off-guard and never once got me. I have every single one on hand, I've reached the point where I couldn't forget one if I tried. It's weird. 200 countries on the planet, 199 I'll never see, and I decided to commit to learning that the capital of Sri Lanka is Srijayawardenapurakotte. Google it, got every letter right without even thinking.

Doesn't make me smart. Or maybe it does, since intelligence is a bullshit concept. It makes me good at memorization, as math magic makes Malcolm master mathematic mandalas. I also appreciate above-acceptable alliterations.

Stay Greater, Flamingos

[ceoofanticatradora]

We need more anti C//A who are Adora stans (like you seem to be) so that people can understand that C///A is bad for Adora. Heck C//A is bad for Catra too, but the shippers don't seem to realize it. If Catra had been able to let Adora go maybe she could have healed instead of her festering and the abuse may have ended instead of escalated.

Hello Dear, welcome on my Blog and a big thank you for your message! Firstly I wanna apologize that this response is reaching you more than three full days, almost four later. Just real life getting into the way of my online presence (at least I got my A-Levels admission!) but I assure you that replying to you was on my To Do List the entire time. And while I could've typed something quick, I thought you deserved a full length response just as much as the person before you received. That goes for anyone really to ask/write me anything in the future.

Adora is a character that has flaws, her own interests, things she struggles with/is insecure about etc. but she also still works on being better (up to Season 5). This makes her relatable, fleshed out and overall three dimensional. Overall for me that makes Adora very likeable. Which is funny because when I first watched the show I thought of her as too goofy and felt like she as a character was overall just flat. Her character design did not speak to me either, the ponytail with the weird hair poof and these pointy shoulders of her jacket just really were not my taste. Isn't it amazing how perceptions can change?

As you can guess from that description I did not always stan Adora and she's probably still not my favorite character but over the almost two years I've been in this fandom I've grown rather fond of her. Other important characters to me are Kyle (a very relatable comfort character of mine, he learned to stand up for himself and others and I support that, f*ck Season 5 for barely acknowledging his existence), Lonnie (apart from treating Kyle badly (which I really do NOT support or excuse) I really love her, man, some women just do me like that, I mean she really stood up to Catra like that), Entrapta (I'm autistic too! It's great to have some representation, seeing the ableism/treatment she experiences in the show is not so much though), Seahawk (I don't even know why, I have some issues with his behavior towards Mermista at times but overall I love this dork), Scorpia (she reminds me of myself so much and I really wanna give her hugs, I'm so glad she chose to no longer let Catra treat her like that even though I will be forever salty she just immediately forgave her), Peekablue (I can explain this even less than Seahawk, especially since it was not even really him in the end but his existence somehow helped me cope with Season 5, without him I probably would've left this fandom ... and also my favorite color is blue) and Double Trouble (now there's enough people already critcizing how they're not exactly great Non-binary representation but this dramatic lizard will forever be in my heart, that reality check they gave Catra, basically slapping her in the face with facts was satisfying as h*ck, also I like lizards overall).

Now there's plenty of characters I like, dislike (or even hate) or am simply indifferent about but after all this is not a tier list but me talking about Adora, Catra and Catradora. Adora started off as this girl that was so sure what she was doing is right but once she was taught differently she was willing to leave everything she knew (except Catra, because she valued her despite everything) behind. And not only that, she broke out of the abuse cycle that Catra tried so hard to keep upright. And that is exactly what makes Adora such a good role model. She teaches children (or people) that:

Your past doesn't define what/who you are or what/who you can become

-> Adora used to be a Horde soldier and did not know where she came from, but nonetheless she found herself a family and became a hero that saved thousands of people

You can always change your mind and start a new life if you feel disappointed in what you are doing/who you are as a person

-> Basically the exact same point, Adora started a new life as she saw what the Horde really was and changed her mind about who to fight for

You deserve love too, be it platonic or romantic (or se*ual???) (If you're aro and/or ace just ignore the part that does not work for you)

-> While Adora for various reasons thought her only use was to please others and meet their needs and expectations (mostly due to Shadow Weaver and Catra) she learned to accept that she too deserves love and validation (if the love aspect would not have been focused on it being romantic love so she could smooch Catra in the finale this would've been a billion times better because she got love from her friends that showed her her real value)

You can walk away from something/someone, that does not make you egoistic/selfish

-> Adora walked away from the Horde, after Catra stubbornly refused to come with her despite many offers (basically Catra broke the promise, not Adora) from her too and that did not make her a "traitor" or "selfish", h*ck, Adora in the end did this for a bigger purpose too, even if part of it was her not wanting to live with such wrong morals

Your opinions, feelings etc. about a person/something can change and that is perfectly fine and valid, being able to change is part of what makes someone human

-> Adora's views on many things changed throughout the show: The Horde and the Rebellion, the First Ones, Catra, being She-Ra, herself, her priorities and so on ... she actually makes use of her brain, which is why Catra saying "Don't you ge it?" or calling her an idiot and dumb never sat right with me, she's a realistic character for shifting with her thoughts, feelings etc. and sometimes just does not fully think things through

You don't have to let other people treat you like sh*t (just because they have some issues they never worked through does not give them any right to let it out on you)

-> This point is obviously centered mostly around Catra and her abusing Adora almost every chance she gets, which is why Adora standing up for herself and not letting Catra blame her for her own decisions and mistakes is so important, "You made your choice, now live with it" is one of the most powerful lines throughout all the five Seasons

Now I'm sure there is still more to Adora's character than what I just listed and unfortunately almost all the points basically got pushed aside, well, Adora as a character got pushed aside in Season 5. All her growth, the things that made me love her, see her as great role model for so many people robbed of their value for the sake of making everything revolve around Catra. That brings me to her and how you are absolutely right that Catradora is harmful to both characters. Of course Adora is affected most by it in the end but Catra too is obviously suffering under the fandoms obsession and just the overall idea of them being romantically involved.

Just like with Adora the stans make almost everything about Catra over her relationship with Adora. She too can barely exist outside of it and if she wasn't the fan favorite she'd most likely would too be mostly in Fanarts that include Adora and not just her (if you google "Catra Fanart" most content is still Catra and Catra only but here and there Catradora still peaks through). But for whatever reason the fandom still views her more as her own person as the other ones? Catrouble and Scorptra Shippers might actually still get less hate than Glimmadora Shippers (I'm not denying they don't get any, they most certaintly do) which is just plain hypocricy and favorism. Kinda like the: A woman needs to be loyal to her husband and her husband only but if the husband wants to be active with other women that is perfectly fine because "that is just how men are" or how i like to call it ... sexism. Now in this case they are both women so it's not sexism but yo do get my point.

But much more importantly, Catra has an unhealthy obsession with Adora. Signs of that are for example:

Constantly talking about Adora, even when said person is not around (to Shadow Weaver, Scorpia etc.)

Obsessing over having control over Adora like in that one Episode "Are you kidding? I finally got control over Adora, I'm not giving that up!"

Building her entire character and her actions around Adora "We need to take Adora down", "Adora left me", "I'd rather see the whole world end than see you win!", also shown in Season 5 where she states she does save Glimmer only for Adora and not for Glimmer or to do the right thing

Getting aggressive or very emotional over Adora like clawing the wall, having nightmares etc. (destructive behavior towards herself and others)

Having no or barely any characteristics outside of her relationship with Adora like, we don't know her interests or likes and dislikes outside of being evil, obsessed with Adora, being abused by Shadow Weaver ...

Trying to force Adora to meet her needs and expectations regardless of Adora's owns

Sacrificing her oppurtunity to be happy in the Crimson Waste for the sake of her Adora obsession and being better than her at all costs

So yes, you were very right with saying that not putting Catra in a relationship with Adora would've benefited both characters. Catra could've learned to exist on her own, develop interests and a life outside of Adora. Learn to accept herself and eventually come to terms with her childhood abuse. She could've been free and not "the abusive cat girl that ended up with the person she unhealthily obsessed over to the point of no return" she kinda is now. Even if we ignore the whole "dating your long term abuser" part from Adora's side and "being rewarded" for horrible behavior, Catra alone is not giving a good example to people watching. As much as I dislike Catra, disdain her even, an ending where she is dependent on Adora, unable to stand on her own two legs after she led armies in war is not what I would wish for her, even with a decent redemption arc (that she did not get).

[kob131]

Okay, now we’re doing Mordred.

Personal statement: I’m a little miffed when it comes to the fandom and the character of Mordred. The fandom tends to portray her as a generic rambuncious tomboy or generic tsundere at best and a trans stereotype at worst. While the former is true and the latter could be true depending on what the creators’ say- there’s a LOT more to Mordred than ‘badass’, ‘tsundere’ and ‘tomboy.’

Let’s try the beginning for now. To begin with, Mordred isn’t human. She’s actually a homunculus made to be a clone of her father Arturia. This was done to her by her mother, Morgan Le Fay, as a part of a revenge plot against the king. Because of this, Mordred aged a lot faster than a normal person. As in, despite looking like a teenager, Mordred can’t be older than 9, likely a few years younger. She also likely...didn’t have a good childhood. Truth be told, little is known about Mordred’s time before the Round Table. All we do know is that however her mother raised her, it led Mordred to believe that mothers in general don’t care about their kids.

Sometime later, she joins the Round Table after being recommended by Morgan. All of this being a ploy to get her close to the king and usurp the throne for her. Slight problem there-despite being raised to hate Arturia, Mordred ended up idolizing her because of the king’s perceived inhumanity and her benevolence. She stays on the Round Table not as a spy for Morgan but rather as a genuine knight serving the king. Despite this, she still listens to her mother’s order to keep her helmet on at all times.

Near the end of Camelot, Morgan and Mordred meet up once again, with the former rather agitated that Mordred hadn’t fulfilled her purpose yet. In this exchange, Morgan lets slip just who her father was. Finding that out, Mordred went off to confront Arturia about this, hoping to be her heir. ... She got shot down. Things went...badly, oh so badly afterward. Mordred’s admiration turned to hatred for her father and drove her to commit the infamous rebellion that destroyed Camelot, betrayed her father’s trust and ultimately killed them both.

Moving on to her tenure as a Servant, she’s summoned by Kairi Shisigou in the Great Holy Grail War as the Saber of Red. Despite her dislike of magus, she and Kairi get along extraordinarily well, becoming a highly effective combo that tended to win even against highly powerful enemies. Ironically, Mordred ends up being one of the most loyal Servants in the war. This culminating in her final moments in the war. After fighting and defeating the Assassin of Red Semiriamis at the cost of her Master being mortally injured, she doesn’t attempt to ally herself with one of the Servantless Masters and instead decides to die by his side.

Later, she’s summoned in both the London and Camelot Singularities. Here we see a rather stark contrast. In London, she acts as Chaldea’s strongest ally in the Singularity, to the point she helps Mash develop as a Servant and goes out of her way to help them. In Camelot, she’s allied with the villain of the Singularity, a godly version of her father called the Lion King, and works as a brute enforcer destined to die. She also appears in the third Lostbelt...but mostly as a comparison to Spartacus so I’ll skip the details there.

So, if I had to give a word to describe Mordred, ‘Paradoxical’ would be a good one. She hates being referred to as a female but also hates being referred to as a male. She tries to act aloof but craves affection from people. Her legend is based around her betrayal and yet she’s steadfast loyal in all her appearances. She’s rough and strong but shockingly fragile at times. And while she claims to hate her father...well...

Everything traces back to her past in Camelot. Again, Mordred is actually a lot younger than she appears to be. Arturia’s reign only lasted ten years and Mordred was born during this time, meaning she’s likely well below double digits in terms of chronological age. This means Mordred is around the age when children are still highly sensitive and emotional, unable to properly control their emotions. While this is partially due to how developed their brains are, a great part of this is also life experience which Mordred severely lacks. 

Then we have her upbringing. Mordred has never directly spoken about her childhood but the one indication we get from her second Interlude (the line about mothers not caring about their kids) implies Mordred was treated rather poorly by her mother. A child around her chronological age has poor emotional maturity even if they have good parents. Remove one parent and have the other treat her poorly and you have what is an abused child stuck in the body of a teenager. The series isn’t even subtle with Mordred effectively being a kid, her attitude is constantly portrayed as immature, hyperactive and all around childish.

This is also why she took Arturia’s rejection so hard. While she asked to be Arturia’s heir, her actions and talk as a Servant seem to indicate she conflated being family to her with being her heir. So when she was rejected, it wasn’t that she was told she couldn’t be king- to her, Mordred thought she was rejected as family. To say nothing of her own insecurities about being Morgan’s child.

A few of you more familiar with the Round Table, Fate version or real, are probably thinking ‘Well, not like she was completely isolated. She must have friends within the Round Table. Hell, she has other family members, the Orkney siblings are all Morgan’s children too!’ Problem there is that she was ordered by her mother to not remove her helmet around others. You can’t really bond with someone if you have to keep your guard up at all times. As for her other family members, their interactions (like Mordred brushing off Gawain and Gareth being somewhat distant with her, not even knowing her actual gender) indicate both parties were unaware of their connection. So she had no friends or family to make up for her warped upbringing. It isn’t a concidence that once she finds an accepting father figure in Kairi, she starts to develop out of her worse traits.

Moving on, Mordred also has serious issues regarding her identity. This most obviously manifests as her contradictory stance in regards to her gender. She hates being called a woman due to the negative connotations her time period had about women and how it would disqualify her from being Arturia’s heir...but she can’t be treated as a man either, as that denies who she is. This continues on into her legend as well: at first she sounds proud of her rebellion and her betrayal...but other more personal times she indicates she regrets what she did and hates herself for it. She claims to have surpassed her father as a knight in one breath then calls herself third-rate and a poor knight in the next. She supposedly embraces her legend as a traitor...yet refuses to betray her allies and stays loyal. She tries to act like she’s some big bad villain who doesn’t care but she tries to uphold her knight’s honor as any member of the Round Table would.

All in all, she comes across as someone trying to look and seem strong...because she’s been wounded one too many times.

This is especially notable with her feelings towards her father. On the surface, she talks big about hating her father. And superficially, it seems to add up as she constantly challenges and fights against Arturia. And yet, her wish on the Holy Grail is to pull the sword Caliburn from the stone, trying to prove herself to her father. She actually hates it when someone insults her father, she still tries to act as a knight under her father. And in Apocrypha, in her final fight, it turns out there’s a specific reason WHY she’s trying to prove herself by drawing Caliburn and not, say, beating her father in a fight or surviving Camalann: She wants to draw Caliburn so her father doesn’t. Because being king caused untold pain and suffering for Arturia and deep down, Mordred wanted her to be happy.

In the end, Mordred comes off as a deeply flawed, deeply damaged person. Someone who was robbed of any kind of choice or chance at a good life, trying her best to make the most of her mistakes. And yet, she tries her best to care for the people she loves, even the person who seemed to hurt her the most. And through the chances others give her, she becomes a better and better person.

She’s just a child who needs what all children need: love and guidance.

[365days365movies]

May 10, 2021: Blade Runner 2049 (2017) (Recap: Part Two)

Said I’d talk about artificial humans in sci-fi, so...

There are a HELL of a lot of examples of artificial humans in science-fiction, as well as the ethical and philosophical concepts that their existence raises. Now, your definition of “artificial” may differ from medium to medium. At its base form, these are humans that are not born, but made. I’ll be talking fleshy organic humans, not robotic ones. The most common of these is, of course, clones.

A clone, strictly speaking, is a genetically identical copy of a pre-existing organism, in this case a human. While this isn’t technology we’ve applied to humans as of yet (due to the NUMEROUS ethical problems and questions), we have done so with animals, mostly sheep and cats. It’s actually a good way to de-extinct certain species, and we’ve already done experiments with that. Of course...that has its own concerns.

Keeping up the Jurassic Park reference streak! Anyway...

There are a FUCKTON of examples of clones in science-fiction, but since I’m a massive comic book nerd, I’ll use Superboy. The genetic combination of Superman and Lex Luthor, Conner Kent is one of the most prominent clone superheroes. He’s not the only clone of Superman, of course. He’s not even my favorite clone of Superman, to be honest...

Bizarro am the worst. ME WILL LIVE ON THAT HILL.

Oh, and let’s not forget THE most prominent artificial human in comic books PERIOD. I don’t care what her origin in the movies is, that’s never been my favorite version of Wonder Woman. Making her a demigod robs her of something important, in my opinion.

...Should I make a comic book blog? Shit, thinkin’ about it.

OK, before I do that, these are just my favorite examples. Fact is, there are FAR too many examples of artificial humans to go into, whether they’re built, grown, sculpted, conjured, or a chemical reaction with an extra ingredient in the concoction.

And look, I could go on all day about this, but we got a long-ass movie to get back to. SO, lets jump back in. Part One is here!

Recap (2/2)

Understandably exhausted, K returns home, confused and conflicted. However, he’s greeted with a surprise from Joi: a prostitute! Namely, this is Mariette (Mackenzie Davis), one of the girls who approached him earlier. Joi’s called her here in order to be “real” for K, the effect is impressive, if somewhat...off-putting. Still, while K obviously didn’t need this to be happy with their relationship, Joi might, and Mariette’s all on board.

And it doesn’t take K terrible long to get on board, either. As both Mariette and Joi strip, it makes me wonder...how much does this subscription service for Joi cost. There’s no goddamn way this is free, right? Like, how exclusive IS this AI? And they cut from that scene to a Joi commercial, where we hear that Joi becomes anything you want her to be, and does anything you want her to do. But something tells me that...well, that it’s not quite so simple.

Once the night is over, Joi tells Mariette to leave, and not nicely either. Mariette leaves, rebuking her on the way out as well. K, meanwhile, knows that the Blade Runners will soon be coming after him. He’ll be going on the run, and Joi wants to go with him. And so, they put her inside of a remote device, while deleting her information from the main apartment console. This gets the attention of Luv, who head over to the apartment to figure out what’s going on.

K goes to Doc Badger (Barkhad Adbi), who analyzes the horse for him. It’s discovered that old radiation can be found there, and that amount and kind of radiation can only be found in areas where a dirty bomb has been set off. This would be in the desolate and weird-ass ruins of Las Vegas. While nobody lives there at this point, K and Joi go to check it out.

An IMMENSELY frustrated Luv, unaware of K’s discovery about himself, goes to confront Joshi about K’s whereabouts. Luv berates her for being afraid of change, and tells her that she “can’t fend off the tide with a broom”. Which is a great line. However, as Joshi is no use to her at this point, Luv just straight up kills her. Which, I’m sure, will go over well with the whole “Replicants aren’t dangerous” thing.

Meanwhile, in Vegas...shit is WEIRD. First off all, the desolate wasteland is full of statues of giant sexy wimmin, and I mean GIANT statues. Beneath one of them is a series of beehives, which K goes into to get a hand of beeeees. After that, he goes into an abandoned hotel/casino, rigged with tripwires and booby traps. OK. What.

So, somebody’s using this place as a hideaway, despite the entire city being destroyed by a dirty bomb, and probably extremely radioactive. K searches around and finds it empty. He begins to play a piano, hoping to draw someone out. He ends up drawing out a dog, as well as the inhabitant of the hotel.

Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), baby! Quoting Stevenson’s Treasure Island and holding K up at gunpoint with dog at side is the original Blade Runner himself, Rick Fucking Deckard. God, I love this. Deckard hunts K down throughout the casino, where we see some trippy holograms, and the future of Vegas stageshows (probably).

The two fight, but eventually call a truce and decide to get a drink at the bar. K gets to it pretty quickly, and confronts Deckard on his potential child with Rachael. He confirms that Rachael was indeed pregnant by him, but he had never met his child. Which was the plan, to be fair. He wanted their child to be protected, not hunted down and eventually dissected.

Sometimes, to love someone...you gotta be a stranger.

To an old Frank Sinatra song, a forlorn K (now calling himself “Joe”) looks around, and sees carved wooden animals that resemble the horse that’s haunted his life and memories so much by this point. Which makes sense, considering the foil unicorn from the previous film. Neat little tie-in there.

But paradise is not all it’s cracked up to be, as someone soon comes to find both K and Deckard, despite the fact that K came alone. Although, now that I think about it, Joi may not be one that you can truly trust. Deckard and K try to escape their pursuers, but are caught pretty quickly. In the process, K is injured, but manages to get up in order to fight back. However, this is Luv with these people, and she beats K down EASILY. Turns out that Luv is actually an enforcer, rather than just a secretary. And when Joi awakens from K’s device to ask her to stop, well...she kills the device, and she kills K. In the process, she also takes Deckard away, leaving K behind. Fuck.

K wakes up, only to discover Mariette standing over him in the Las Vegas wasteland. She takes care of him as he wakes up, also stitching up with wounds from the explosion. She tells K to trust her, as well as her compatriots. One of them is the hooded woman from earlier, a Replicant named Freysa (Hiam Abbass). An old friend of Sapper’s she saw the delivery of the child, the “miracle”, and also hid the child away, as it was a symbol that the Replicants are more than just slave, that they are their own masters.

Freysa is building a revolution in order to free the Replicants once and for all. And I’m hard-pressed to disagree with their cause, not gonna lie. However, this comes at a price. In order to prevent Wallace from killing the cause, K must prevent Deckard from leading them to Freysa. They must do what they can until they can reveal the child to the world. For she will be their leader.

Fuck.

Understandably COMPLETELY crushed at this revelation, and more confused than ever, K collapses. Freysa tells him that they ALL wish they were the one, and they all believe. It’s at this point, that K realizes exactly who the Hybrid is: Dr. Ana Stelline. The horse from earlier, it turns out, did in fact belong to her, and she planted her childhood memory with the horse in K’s mind as a Replicant. Damn. DAMN! That’s why the memory moved her so: because it was hers.

Meanwhile, Deckard awakens to a separate nightmare: Jared Leto telling him how he feels about him. After all, Deckard helped to create the first Replicant-human hybrid. He asks him for his help in obtaining the child, so that the key of Replicant reproduction can be further unlocked. And he proceeds in convincing Deckard by playing audio of Rachael and his first meeting (from the first film, of course).

Niander fucks with him further, by suggesting Deckard was summoned all those years ago specifically to fall in love with Rachael in order to father a child with her. But despite all of this, Deckard refuses to give up any of his information. And so, Niander pulls out his ace-in-the-hole...and it’s a real shitty thing to do to a man in mourning. 

Damn. Dude rebuilt Rachael, tries to tempt Deckard with her, FAILS, then lets Luv shoot her in the head. Fucking power move, and fuck Niander for playing it. Dude is a DICK. Meanwhile. that one visual from every single ad of this movie is happening, and I can FINALLY use one of the 8000 GIFs of it, goddamn.

Not gonna lie, it’s an iconic appearance, so I get why it’s so famous. Anyway, K considers a suicidal option, now that he knows the truth. However, before we get to see the final decision, we get to see Deckard being taken back to LA for interrogation by Wallace. However, to prevent him from potentially leading Wallace to the secret of Ana Stelline, K suddenly appears, opening fire on their ship.

The craft is downed, and K exits the car to engage in a firefight with Luv. He appears to win, but Luv isn’t killed once she’s shot. The two have a fistfight out in the rain, and Deckard waits for water to slowly kill the craft that he’s still inside of.

As expected, Luv handles herself well, and despite a number of close calls, she JUST. WILL. NOT. DIE. Damn, she’s resilient. However, despite K, Luv, and Deckard all nearly drowning in an INTENSE fight between the Replicants, an enraged and crazed Luv finally eventually drowns, ending her threat for good. 

K saves Deckard from the sinking ship, and agrees to stage his death, allowing him to meet his daughter for the first time. Once at her facility, K returns Deckard’s horse to him, knowing that it was a gift from him. He tells Deckard that his best memories all come from her, implying that this makes him similar to Deckard’s son, which he picks up on when he asks if he’s OK.

Deckard goes to meet his daughter, and K hangs out on the stairs outside. He feels the snow fall on his hand, and he just...watches it all fall around him. He sits, and he watches it all. And meanwhile, Deckard meets his daughter for the first time.

...Can I just say...GODDAMN!

That movie was absolutely stellar, and it’s definitely landing in the high ‘90s for me, calling it now. I...wow. Seriously. Amazing.

See you in the Review!

[debbiechanclub]

“Personal Snow Globe” - Brandon Cutler x OFC

Title: Personal Snow Globe

Theme: @12daysofchristmas Day 4 - Snow

Fandom/Character(s): AEW/Brandon Cutler x OFC

Warnings: None! This fic is a big ball of fluff.

Word Count: 1,537

Notes: @champbucks wanted a Brandon fic, so I had to deliver. I must say, this is probably the SOFTEST thing I have ever written, but I’m quite proud of it. I hope y’all enjoy!

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @hotyeehawman @freshlysqueezedmox @gabbynorth98 @comeasyoudar @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @librathepheonix13 @exe-sadboi-exe

For the first time in a long time, Olivia wasn’t excited for Christmas. Ever since she and Brandon had started spending the holidays together, they’d traded off which side of the family got which holiday. This year, it was supposed to be Thanksgiving with Brandon’s family and Christmas with hers—but while they had spent Thanksgiving at Brandon’s parents’ house, given the state of things they’d chosen to be responsible and not travel for Christmas. Which meant they were staying in Southern California rather than going to Olivia’s parents’ place in Western New York. And, while she was upset that she wouldn’t get to see her family in person, she was probably even more upset that she was being robbed of a white Christmas.

“It’s supposed to snow in Buffalo again tonight,” Olivia groused as she looked at the weather app on her phone.

“And probably tomorrow night, and the night after that,” Brandon pragmatically pointed out. “Didn’t you say Buffalo gets three times the national average snowfall per year, or something ridiculous?”

“It’s not ridiculous, it’s what’s supposed to happen in winter,” she returned. “Meanwhile here in seasonless Southern California, it’s in the seventies three days before Christmas.”

Brandon smiled and shook his head. He was used to hearing her complain about the weather in Southern California. While she absolutely loved it during spring and summer, by the time September rolled around she would inevitably get homesick for a chilly bite in the air and the actual need for sweaters and coats and scarves. Being able to walk around without so much as a jacket during Christmas was just wrong.

“You’re the one who decided to move here,” Brandon teased.    

“And for two-thirds of the year I love it! But that other third…” she trailed off. He let out a laugh.

“It’s just the worst.”

She pouted at him. “I’m really bummed, Brandon. Seriously.” She didn’t mean to sound childish or ungrateful; she knew how lucky they were that Brandon’s family lived close enough that they could spend the day with them, and she was doubly lucky that she loved his family. But there was just something special about a snowy Christmas—and if there was any year that Olivia could use a dose of that magic, it was this one.

Thankfully, Brandon understood. He was the most understanding person Olivia knew. “I know you are, Liv. But we’ll make the most of it. At least we won’t have to spend it by ourselves; most people don’t have that luxury this year.”

“I know,” Olivia sighed, suddenly feeling bad for complaining. He was right, she knew he was. He always was.

But the New Yorker in her couldn’t help it. She wanted her white Christmas.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Alright, this is the last one.”

Brandon grabbed a box from underneath the Christmas tree and crossed the room to hand it to Olivia. She accepted it with a warm smile. They liked to open their presents for each other on Christmas Eve, so it was something personal for just the two of them. Had they been in Buffalo, they would have snuck up to Olivia’s childhood bedroom after dinner with her family and opened them there. Admittedly, it was a lot nicer to get to do it by their tree instead of next to her marching band competition trophies.  

“This is heavy,” Olivia remarked, weighing the box in her hands. And then, her eyes widened. Somehow, she just knew what it was. She tore open the wrapping paper in two swift motions and let out a gasp. She’d been right—it was the Canon camera she’d been saving up for for months.

“Merry Christmas, babe.” Brandon’s smile was dazzling and infectious as he watched her unwrap it the rest of the way. Olivia was beside herself.

“Brandon… this is… wow.” She ran her hand over the glossy cardboard box, still in awe. That camera cost thousands of dollars. Suddenly, the Dungeons & Dragons dice set and wooden dice tower she’d gotten him—which had not been cheap—seemed paltry in comparison.

“This is too much,” she said.

“What?” Brandon gave her a look like she’d said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “No. I know you’ve been saving up for it for a while, but I had the money, so I figured why not?”

Olivia’s brow knitted together. “Are you sure? This is a really expensive cam—”

“And your photography is worth the cost.”

Tears immediately sprung to the back of her eyes. Brandon was too good to her.

But she couldn’t help but look a gift horse in the mouth. “Wait, you didn’t buy this to make up for us not being able to go to Buffalo, did you? Is this why you were gone all day yesterday?”

It wouldn’t be unlike Brandon to make a sweeping gesture like that; it wouldn’t be the first time since they’d been together. Plus, she hadn’t noticed this particular present turn up under the tree until late yesterday evening.

But Brandon shook his head. “No. I bought that for you a while ago,” he explained. “And I was gone all day yesterday because of traffic. There was still a last-minute Christmas rush even though people should be staying home.”

Olivia didn’t say anything in return, taking his word for it. But, as grateful as she was for the gift, she still felt a little guilty that he’d spent so much on her, even if he did have the money.

“Liv,” he gently squeezed her knee, drawing her out of her thoughts. “It’s not too much. I wanted to get it for you, and now you can use the money you’ve been saving for a rainy day.”

A smile crept onto her lips. “Right, because it doesn’t snow here.”

Brandon good-naturedly rolled his eyes. “I can take it back.”

“No!” She playfully snatched the camera away from him. “I love it, and I love you,” she said, and she sealed it with a kiss.

* * * * * * * * * *

Christmas morning, Olivia woke up later than she’d intended. After exchanging gifts, she and Brandon had stayed up late watching Christmas movies, drinking eggnog, and eating cookies—and she’d probably indulged her sweet tooth a bit too much. Thankfully, they weren’t going over to Brandon’s parents’ house until a bit later in the afternoon.

As she stretched and climbed out of bed, she was unsurprised to find herself alone. Brandon was an early riser, no matter how late he went to sleep. He’d probably already made breakfast. She hoped he hadn’t pulled out all the stops; she still felt a bit full from the night before.

She trudged into their master bathroom, still half-asleep, and turned on the light. But what she saw outside the window immediately woke her up.

Snow.

For a second she stood there, dazed and confused, not trusting her own eyes. She rushed to the window and pressed her face against the pane, peering out into the backyard. The “snow” seemed to be coming from one corner of the house, falling into the backyard. She looked down at the ground and spotted Brandon, looking up into the faux flurries. He saw her and waved, that giant smile of his on his face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Olivia rushed to slip on her house shoes and hurry downstairs, her heart thumping excitedly in her chest. She felt like a kid again as she burst out into the backyard. “Are you kidding me?” she repeated her question to Brandon.

He held out his arms. “Since we can’t go to the snow, I figured I’d bring the snow to us.”

She looked up and watched in awe as the snow burst out from the roof and floated down onto them. It felt light and cool on her skin. She was almost tempted to open her mouth and catch a few flakes on her tongue, but she thought better of it.

“How in the world did you pull this off?”

A conspiratorial smirk appeared on Brandon’s lips. “This is why I was gone all day yesterday. I got the idea not long after you started complaining about it snowing in Buffalo again,” she rolled her eyes, but he kept talking. “It was quite a task finding one of these things two days before Christmas, but I wasn’t gonna stop until I did.”

Much like the Grinch’s had, Olivia felt like her heart grew two sizes right then and there. She had no idea what she’d done to deserve someone as sweet as Brandon, but he’d just singlehandedly made this Christmas better than any other Christmas she’d ever had.

He walked over and pulled her close, snowflakes falling all around them. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Olivia beamed. “It’s like our own personal snow globe.” She gave him a kiss. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he returned—and then Olivia had a thought.

“Stay here.”

She pulled away from him and hurried back toward the house. “What is it?” he called after her.

She paused with her hand on the door handle and sent him a smile over her shoulder. “I’m gonna get my new camera. I can’t think of a better first picture to take than in your Southern California snow.”

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 6: LAID BARE

Word Count: 4970 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Rating: M Content Warnings: childhood poverty, discussion of theft/thievery, discussion of death, discussion of childhood illness Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Revelations || Masterlist

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Your eyes traced the flicker of headlights through the narrow half-window as you tried to gather your thoughts into some sort of sense. You wanted to tell him everything. But what did that even mean anymore?

“So what is it you want to talk about?” Diego asked finally, cutting through the waiting silence. 

“Actually,” you looked down at your fingers where they rested on the tabletop, tracing anxious shapes against the laminate. “I know a lot more about you, by virtue of your very public childhood, than you know about me. Which I think, is part of the problem here. So the better question is, where do you want to start?”

“Alright,” he was silent for a moment, jaw twitching as if he was working the words over in his mouth before he said them. “Why do you get so defensive when I say you could do more with your powers, and your skills?”

“Because it’s judgmental, it relies on untrue assumptions, and I don’t like having other people’s will imposed on me,” you explained, face twisting wryly.

“Tell me the truth then.”

“What?”

“If my assumptions aren’t true, set the record straight.”

“You aren’t going to like what I have to say.”

“Now who’s the one making assumptions?”

You sighed. “It’s a long story, especially if I start at the beginning. So you might want to make yourself comfortable.”

He shifted in the hard plastic chair across from you, leaning back with his arms folded across his chest, waiting expectantly.

“Your ‘father’ tried to buy me too, when we were babies,” you couldn’t help throwing air quotes around the word and he smiled at the gesture. “But my parents were stable. They both had jobs; they already had one child and were thinking about trying for another anyway. So they said no. And then my dad died, in a workplace accident, because his boss cut corners to save time and money, and things got hard. And the bastard never got punished for it, or even had the decency to pay for the funeral.”

He looked like he was going to say something, some comment of pity or sympathy and you held up a hand to stop him, knowing that if he did, you would fall apart and never finish telling him what he needed to know, what you needed him to know.

“Your dad showed up again, offered her literal millions to let him have me. At least twice that I know of, but there could have been more. But she was as stubborn as they come. I was her daughter and he wasn’t getting me over her dead body. But a florist’s salary really isn’t enough to raise two kids on. Eventually, I realized that my abilities were things no one else could do, and figured out that I could use them to get things. So when money was skint, Daniel and I could still eat properly; rice and beans can only get a kid so far you know. Or we could have clothes that fit and didn’t have holes without bothering her.”

You shrugged, looking away from the growing ache on his face to stare at some spot on the wall. It had just been the facts of your reality. 

“And then I found that bigger risks meant bigger rewards. I could give her money or things, nice things like she deserved. She would cry and get so mad at me, but she always took them and life seemed to get better.”

“Y/N….” he reached out across the table to take one of your hands, which you hadn’t noticed was getting more and more fidgety as you spoke. 

“I grew up. I realized it wasn’t just us. I figured out how to take care of myself, got a job that let me keep a roof over my head and food in the cupboard. Daniel had his own shit figured out, so I didn’t have to worry about anyone else. But all those other people needed someone to look out for them. And if the people I happen to take things from are the kind that exploit their workers or cheat their taxes instead of paying their fair share, who…cut corners and skimp on safety, who’s it hurting?”

You finally turned your eyes back to him, a challenge sparking in them to tell you that you were wrong.

“So it’s what? Karma with you as it’s righteous deliverer?” He asked.

You pursed your lips. He still wasn’t getting it. 

“Even with what I take, those people have more than they need. And now, kids get proper care; families don’t have to decide between going hungry and getting the lights turned off.” You shook your head. “I don’t know how to put it any simpler than that.”

He frowned. “I don’t...get it. I’m sorry, I’m trying to understand but…”

“Okay, how about an example then. When I stole from that museum, you know the one…”

He smirked at the memory.

“There was this kid. Rare terminal something, something. I don’t remember the details of it. Just that I was able to anonymously pay for the experimental treatment that he needed and he got to live to see twelve. His foster parents and the social worker didn’t have to worry about going bankrupt or applying to the state and praying they’d get funds. And all it cost was one less shiny rock, that some exploited worker probably died to fish out of the ground, wasting space on display.”

“You know,” he said off-handedly as if it wasn’t an obvious attempt to deflect, “the kinds of people that can afford to buy those things aren’t any better than the people you’re stealing from. In fact, they’re probably worse if they’re willing to buy from a fence.”

You rolled your eyes. “So? I’ll just rob them blind to fund a school or whatever later.”

“There’s got to be a better way,” he sighed. “One that isn’t criminal.”

“You find it for me then, Diego,” you snapped. “I’m doing the best I can to help as many people as possible with what I’ve got. And sure maybe there’s a little bit of a revenge angle but who cares? Every one of those assholes deserves it.” 

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, certain that you were losing him, that even after you had ripped your chest open and exposed your bleeding heart for the taking, he was going to ask for you to choose between him and your morals, your passions, things that made up the very fiber of your being.

He stood up, circling the table to kneel in front of you again. His hands came up to cup your face and he brushed away the moisture that leaked down your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“Okay,” he said softly, eyes boring into yours. 

 “Okay? What does that mean, ‘okay’?”

“I still don’t like it,” he started and you growled in frustration before he stared you down. “But...I understand. And I’ll try to stop fighting you on it, judging you for it.”

“Do you actually?” you asked.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he pulled back, not moving away completely, but enough that his hands were no longer on you and you felt cold in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

“I don’t know. It’s just this feeling I have. Like I can say whatever I want and tell you my life story in every explicit detail, but…I’m scared that you’re just saying those things to placate me. And that doubt is going to eat me alive.”

“What do you want me to do then, Y/N?”

“Work with me?” you suggested.

“I’m trying,” he countered, frustration leaching into his tone now. 

“No. I mean….Work one job with me, start to finish. Let me show you.”

“You want me to help you steal something?”

“Steal it. Sell it. Put it to good use. Together, as a team, the whole way through.”

“I…” he swallowed before nodding. “Alright.”

Plowing onward, not even registering his answer, you rambled, explaining that you weren’t expecting him to give up being a vigilante or go rogue and that if at any point he wanted out you’d let him, that you would even let him turn you over to the cops, as long as it wasn’t Eudora, if that was what he wanted, you just couldn’t take the doubt anymore. And then your mind caught up to reality and came to a screeching halt.

“Wait, really?” you asked incredulously. 

You had been expecting him not only to say no, but to get angry at the suggestion, bracing yourself for the inevitable complete rejection of it, maybe even of you, and trying to counter it preemptively.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “If you come with me for a night in return. Try things my way too. I…I want there to be an us, and if this is what it takes for there to even be a chance of that, I’m willing to do it.”

You stared, stunned.

“Sounds like a fair trade,” you murmured eventually. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about…this…” you gestured between the two of you, indicating what you meant.

“Of course I do, I l—“ he cut himself off, looking away with a clenched jaw, nervous tension practically vibrating his whole body.

“One other thing?” you said, biting your lip.

“What?”

“We’re both terrible at communication, and trust,” you observed. “I don’t want it to be like that anymore.”

He caressed your cheek once more, smiling softly. “I’ll try to be better if you will.”

You leaned in. “Deal.”

He closed the last gap of centimeters between you, pressing his lips to yours. You slowly sat back up, guiding him into a position hovering over you in the chair as his mouth chased where yours led, refusing to be parted from you. His tongue trailed hesitantly over your bottom lip, and you parted eagerly for him, losing yourself for a blissful moment in the kiss. 

“What time is it?” you mumbled reluctantly between kisses. 

“Why does it matter?” he countered, trying to shift you into a position more comfortable for you both.

“I have work. And you have streets to patrol. Although I know that’s far less exciting without your ravishing nemesis about,” you teased, breaking the kiss completely now.

“Mm...ravishing…” he muttered, eyes closed and face dazed. “I’d like that.”

You laughed. “You weren’t listening at all were you?”

He shook himself, blushing slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you.

“I appreciate your careful nursing, and this talk was...good, necessary, important. I don’t know. But I really do have to go.”

He sighed, sulking. “I know. Fine. I...I’ll see you later?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” you smirked. “Maybe we can revisit the whole, ravishing idea.”

~

Several days later, Diego came over to your apartment. You had suggested it under the guise of, at least partially true, a need to start planning for your heist together. But really, you just wanted to see him again, to spend some time with him now that there was, properly, something between you. 

Your stomach twisted nervously in anticipation, realizing that this was another big step, one quickly after the other, letting him into your home. It had always been your safe place to hide, your sanctum, and you were disrupting that with a new presence. 

But, you reminded yourself, he wasn’t the first (though the total number was incredibly small), and he had already let you into his, even so far as to let you stay there. And you trusted him. More than anyone, save maybe your brother. So it wouldn’t be so bad. 

You were just putting the finishing touches on the pot of cheesy mashed potatoes you had made when the intercom buzzed, indicating someone was at the building’s outer door and wanted to be let in. You hastily crossed the room to press the unlock button and the talk button at the same time.

“It’s open,” you called through the speaker.

There was no response but you heard the odd echo of the door opening and shutting and clicked off the box. A few moments later, someone knocked on your door. Despite knowing there was only one person it could be, you stood on your toes to look through the little peephole before sliding the chain aside and letting Diego in.

“Do you always just unlock your door for strangers?” he asked.

“Hmmm, no. Only the tall, dark and handsome ones.” 

You threaded your arms around his neck to greet him with a quick kiss, shaking your head and laughing when he responded with a hand on your backside.

“Something smells amazing,” he said as you pulled away and returned to the stove to finish the rest of dinner.

“Well, I figured since you were coming over, and our little...project was probably going to take a while, I should make food.” You shrugged, placing two steaming plates on your coffee table and gesturing for him to come sit beside you on the couch. “It’s not Michelin star or anything…”

He shoveled up a bite of the garlic-roasted vegetables and groaned in satisfaction.

“It’s perfect,” he countered around the mouthful.

“You eat raw eggs, so I think the bar’s pretty low,” you countered jokingly, "but thank you.”

~

After you had eaten and cleaned up from dinner, you decided it was time to get down to business. You led him over to one corner of the broad, open space that served as your ‘office’ of sorts, drawing the thick curtains shut as you passed, just in case any of the neighbors were out smoking on the fire escape tonight. 

“So, you said, planting your hands on the work table dramatically and looking across to him. “Any initial thoughts?”

His eyes grew wide, like a panicked deer. He opened his mouth and then closed it again several times, but no words came out.

“Relax,” you said, smiling reassuringly, eyes sparkling. “It’s not like I expected you to do any homework. It was just a question. I have a few ideas, but we’re supposed to be partners, so I didn’t want to launch into them without giving you a shot first.”

‘Partners.’ He thought he liked the sound of that, but he still found himself wishing it was doing what he was used to, instead of this. It felt wrong, like he was going against everything he’d been taught. But then, he supposed he had been taught by a man so rigid and set in his ways that he would never have even considered that there might be other options. And the last thing he wanted to do was be like Reginald Hargreeves. Besides, it was a one for one deal, and there was still a chance to change your mind.

He smiled at you. “You lead, I’ll follow. For this one.”

“I like the sound of that,” you muttered, smiling back, before settling back into a more serious mode.

“Some oil tycoon’s private collection is being temporarily hosted and displayed at the art museum. It’s a pretty soft target at night, easy to get in and out. Shockingly minimal security in general, and paintings are easy to move,” you offered. 

Diego nodded vaguely, wanting to hear everything you set out before agreeing to anything.

“Or, there’s another place I’ve been staking out for a while. A warehouse. Owned by D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Co. Nothing to do with actual umbrellas, or manufacturing from what I can tell.”

Diego flinched, but you didn’t notice, having turned around to pull out a file of information you had been gathering. 

“It’s all shipping and receiving. Mostly receiving. Some stuff I think is probably stolen antiques; I think I saw a couple guys opening crates of straight cash at one point, and there’s definitely stuff labeled with shit like ‘caution: explosive’ which usually means weapons or some kind of chemicals and either way is bad news. Those don’t stay in the warehouse long, and I don’t tend to mess with that shit anyway…” you trailed off, noticing Diego’s strange expression. “What? Why are you staring?”

“That…that’s my father’s company.”

��Wait what? Really?” you couldn’t help the shock on your face. 

You knew that Hargreeves was a very rich man but somehow it had never occurred to you that he might actually own anything, other than the massive Academy. And you supposed in theory the seven babies he had bought. You bit the inside of your cheek to distract yourself, cutting off that train of thought before it went to dark places.

“Do you know what specifically he’s got there?” you asked hopefully.

“No. I...sorry I don’t.”

“Nah, that’s alright. And you’re sure it’s his? Not just a similar name or coincidence?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s definitely Dad’s company.”

“All the better then,” you smiled wolfishly, all teeth. “Vengeance and helping people. If you want? I mean, I’m not going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with. We could always hit the museum. Or start listing some other options...”

He hesitated a moment. Then he nodded resolutely. “Let’s do it.”

You grinned. Maybe this would turn out even better than you’d hoped. 

~

The two of you spent the next several hours working out the details of your plan, pouring over warehouse blueprints (that he didn’t ask where you’d gotten them from) and road maps, talking entry and exit strategies, rendezvous points, likely potential pitfalls, including the possibility that Hargreeves would send in his brother, Number One to try and stop you if he got wind of the break-in. Diego assured you that he was prepared to fight Luther if it came to it, and you frowned, heart clenching at his cold acquiescence to the idea. 

Exhausted, heads drooping and necks and shoulders aching, you finally decided to call it quits for the night. There was still more to go over, but you had time, and tonight you weren’t going to get anywhere useful with the fog that was settling into your minds. 

“I guess I should go,” he murmured as you both turned toward the door.

“Do you want to?” your face felt hot with a blush and you looked away from him as you asked. 

“What else would I do?” he stepped in front of you, turning your head to look at him again. 

You knew that he knew what you were offering, but he wanted to hear you say it anyway, to make sure the invitation was explicitly there. God, just when you thought he couldn’t get more perfect, he went and did a thing like that. 

You bit your lip, the words feeling heavy in your throat, every nerve suddenly hyper-aware.

“You could stay?” you offered, tilting your head slightly to one side. 

He cocked an eyebrow.

“I mean, I spent a week freeloading off you at your place. The least I can do is offer tonight, especially with how late it’s gotten. It’s dangerous out in the city alone at night you know.” You chuckled, trying to break the tension that crackled between you.

“Y/N…”

“It’s a really nice couch to sleep on,” you continued nervously. “I’ve fallen asleep on it before, pretty often actually when I come home and I’m just too tired. Or if I’m watching a movie or something.”

“Is that what you want?” his voice was soft and he was so close that his breath ghosted over your face.

“Is what?”

“For me to stay, and sleep on your couch?” He made sure you were making complete eye-contact with him, voice serious. “Be honest, and don’t just say something out of feeling like you’re obligated.”

“It’s not an obligation, Diego,” you assured him, hand cupping his face in counterpoint to the one he still had resting on your face. “I want you to stay.”

“On the couch?”

You shook your head. “Not unless you want to sleep on the couch.”

He opened his mouth to ask again if you were sure, to try and get you to say instead of dance around the invitation you were making. You rolled your eyes, kissing him fiercely. 

“Christ Diego,” you groaned against his lips. “I am trying to say I want you, as much of you as you’re willing to let me have.”

That seemed to finally be good enough for him, as he kissed you back with just as much ferocity as you had used. Your lips parted eagerly before he'd even had the chance to act, and your tongues danced together. The hand you had on his cheek slid back to grasp his short-cropped hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made him shiver. Your other gripped tightly to his shoulder to hold yourself steady. He continued to cup your face, his thumb running slowly back and forth over your cheekbone in tender circles, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you close to him. 

Carefully, without breaking contact between you, you led him in a sort of dance, crossing the apartment, circling the edge of the dividing screens that formed your bed“room”, stepping over laundry piles, and finally tumbling backward onto the already rumpled sheets. 

Pulling back to give you both a moment to breathe, Diego shifted, taking off his boots and socks. He bit his lip, staring down at you, your hair splayed around you like a halo, lips reddened from his kisses, skin practically glowing in the dim light (or was that just you?). 

“What?” you asked teasingly. “Have I got something on my face?”

“You’re just…” he found himself at a loss for words, every one he could come up with seeming insufficient.

“Beautiful,” he finally breathed, brushing a finger reverently across your cheek once more, continuing on to trace up your temple before threading back, into your hair. 

“Diego,” you sighed, reaching again to draw him close, needy and wanting. 

He leaned down, tugging lightly on your hair, to expose your neck, placing teasing kisses along the column of your throat. You pressed your lips together to stifle a moan as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin of your pulse point. You felt him smirk against your skin and had only a few seconds before he redoubled his efforts, biting down harder on the same spot and causing you to cry out. He glided his tongue over the mark he made and his free hand trailed over your stomach, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, shockingly cold against your heated skin. You gasped at the contact, melting into his touch and moving like a marionette for him as he released your hair and lifted your arms above your head to pull the offending garment off, tossing it aside. You thought you heard the clatter of something being knocked over by it, but you couldn’t be bothered to care as his lips reconnected with your own. 

The next kiss was languid and tender, his arms pulling you close, yours curling around his shoulders, fingers dancing mindless patterns over his bicep. You tugged unceremoniously at his own shirt which he was quick to shuck off. A shiver ran through you at the feel of his skin on yours.

His lips continued their journey downward and you arched into him as they found the swell of your breast. You couldn’t help the whine that slipped out of you, hand dropping from where you clung to him to clutch the sheets beside you as he sucked an obvious mark there, just above the line of your bra. 

Your chest heaved as you struggled to regain your breath or senses when he suddenly withdrew. Your face flushed hotly as you caught his eye and he flashed you a wink, swiftly kicking off his pants. He crawled back up the mattress to you and you pulled him into another kiss, your tongues tangling together almost immediately, as if you were made for it. 

As his hand slipped down to your waistband, deftly undoing the button there, you couldn’t help trembling under his touch, gasping when he slipped inside to run teasing fingers over the soft cotton of your panties. 

Suddenly, the reality of what was happening crashed over you like an icy wave and you felt like you were suffocating. It was too much. Everything was too much.

Planting your hands firmly, you pushed his shoulders to put some space between you.

“Diego, wait,” you said softly.

Immediately he froze. Seconds ticked by, somehow agonizingly slowly and impossibly fast all at once, before he moved again, drawing his hand away and shifting his weight off of you completely. He locked eyes with yours, fear and misery staining his face as you both sat up. You reached for him, and he flinched away. You let your hand drop.

“I-I’mmmm,” his breath hitched painfully and he closed his eyes. “I’mm s-sorry.”

“Diego,” you sighed. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Why would you think…”

Your brow creased in confusion and distress that he was so upset.

“I...w-ww-went too far o-or hurt you or…”

You couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that slipped out. 

“No you didn’t. You have been nothing but good to me, and you’ve done nothing that I didn’t absolutely want you to do. I’m just...not sure I’m ready to take things any further. Not tonight at least. Let’s just take it slow, okay?”

He nodded, finally opening his eyes, looking down at you again and letting you brush a light caress against his face. There was still some hesitation, like he didn’t quite believe that you weren’t hurt or upset, so you curled your fingers against the corner of his jaw, pulling him to meet you. Your lips moved slowly against his, watching carefully for any sign that he wanted to withdraw.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, if anything,” you said reluctantly.

“What?” his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What for?”

“Leading you on?” you said, stating what you thought was obvious. 

He pressed his forehead to yours tenderly. “Sure, if you had done that.”

“I did. I mean what else would you call inviting you to stay the night like this and then...not following through…” you bit your lip, trying to look away from his earnest gaze.

“Y/N,” he said seriously. “Setting a boundary, or changing your mind, is not the same thing as leading me on.”

“But--”

He sighed heavily, the sound cutting you short.

“I’d be lying if I said there’s not a little disappointment. But you’re more important to me than sex. And I don’t want to do anything that you’re not comfortable with, that you don’t want just as much.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, relief and love mingling with embarrassment and guilt, no matter what he said. 

“I’d have even been fine if you really had, or do, ask me to sleep on the couch, Y/N.” He brushed away a stray tear that rolled down toward your chin. “As long as I still have you, in my life.”

“You only have to move to the couch if you want to,” you said, trying to fight down the small smile that threatened to break out on your face. “I’d like it if you stayed. We could maybe keep kissing? Or just, sleep together? Actual sleep…”

He chuckled. “Sleep sounds pretty nice. It is late. And I can’t remember the last time I got a full night.”

“Well in that case, make yourself comfortable,” you laughed, awkwardly extracting an arm to gesture at the rest of the bed. 

Diego returned the laugh and flopped over to the side, stretching out on his back as he settled in for sleep. Briefly he marveled at the softness of the way the mattress sank around him. It was like sleeping on a cloud compared to his lumpy old thing.

His eyes followed you as you moved around the space, shimmying out of your jeans and trading your bra for an overstretched and faded t-shirt, stamped with some university logo. He watched one hand reach behind you to quickly undo the clasp, the two sides practically springing away from each other when you did. You slid the garment off and for a brief moment you were naked, or nearly so - the soft smooth expanse of your skin even from behind making his pulse race with desire again - before you pulled the soft fabric down over your head, the hem trailing across the tops of your thighs, and hid yourself from view again.

You quickly flicked off the lights throughout the little studio apartment.

Any lingering thought, any regret that all he'd gotten was that brief peek, was immediately wiped from his mind as you padded back over to the bed and crawled into it with him. Curling up in almost a ball, you tucked yourself into the hollow of his side, head brushing against his arm as you nestled further down into the bedding, trying to get as comfortable as possible. You breathed in deeply, the scent of him - sharp and spicy and mingled with leather and the cleaning oil he used on his knives, so oft exposed that they had become a natural part of his smell - filling your lungs and spirit with comfort. 

“Goodnight Diego,” you whispered, breath tickling his skin.

He brought his arm down, drawing you closer against him.

“Goodnight.”

You brushed your lips across his cheek in a fleeting kiss that he thought he might have imagined before settling back in your original position. He smiled, the feeling of your warmth lulling him into the best sleep he’d had in ages.

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

@mysterydisposition I think you said that you wanted to be tagged in new chapters?

[laydownmyvirtue]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝.

The cover of nightfall brought with it many paths, each one wrapped in its own kind of shadow.

The shadows that would cause my parents to overlook a dip that hadn’t been on the bridge before that night, one that would leave a gaping hole in my life.

The shadows that she requested filled the hotel room from wall to wall, as I sank to my knees and chased after every sound she had to give. The shadows that cast her in shame and ecstasy as my tongue curled and drove her over the edge. I could follow her over the brink, to plummet beneath the icy waters of a life long gone, my breath robbed by nothing as pleasurable as what she lived through in these sheets. 

The world was nothing but shadows, ones that could cling and distort, until there wasn’t a familiar face or place to find.

“A pleasure, as always, darling.” 

Claudia’s hair tickled its way along my face, as she took my chin between her fingers, and lured me in for a kiss that only came with an added expense. Some days, she didn’t speak a word, using only her eyes and a long earned trust to communicate exactly where she wanted me. Those were the days when she sunk beneath the waves of shame, though it was unclear where the feeling stemmed from. She’d never spoken the words, leaving the answer to my assuming mind. Was the shame in another woman burying herself between her thighs, or was the shame in the cost that came along with every exchange? The assumption changed, from week to week, and on nights like this — when she sought what affection she could before heading for the door, I guessed that this was the only place she could allow herself to exist in peace.

As the door clicked and announced her departure, I was left to the darkness that seemed to have a love of pulling us under, each in our own way. Left to my own pondering on the idea of peace, to the vivid colors that would seep from my memory to fill a room that was entirely devoid, they would pull me under like a current I knew too well. 

The first, the shade of chocolate brown that my mother was kind enough to bestow upon me. The warmth of her eyes, passed down to her only daughter, so that the world would never be deprived of such a comfort. She’d shared her life’s blood, and as my teenage years rolled in, she shared her wishes that some day I would follow her down that road. She hoped that every ounce of compassion she could see reflecting from doting doe eyes, would one day find another host, that this family filled with such love would never end.

The second, an unforgettable shade of grey that painted my parents as people I no longer recognised, on the night when this family filled with such love met its demise. Grey was rarely a color considered remarkable, though it had a kind of brightness to it, one that flushed out every other trace of life from those you held dearest. It would do its job in taking away the traits you loved most about them, and once it was done, it would make a new home in you. It would take the brightness you once knew it for, and cast your days with lifeless clouds, ones that cared nothing for the safety of roof tiles, or the protection of a patchwork blanket your mother had sewn. They would blind you to the daylight, exist with free rein of when they might drop their showers upon you, they would follow you from one side of the world to the other — taunting you for just how impossible it was to escape their silent wrath. Whether you sat within the walls of your childhood home, or upon the floor of some luxury hotel named in a language you didn’t know, they would find you.

The last, a splash of red that would seem startling in comparison to the ways your life was painted these days. The red that wanted to declare a thrill, to sharpen the edges of the plane ticket that Jenna had pressed into my grasp, as if to outline just how exciting any such trip should be. The red that shone over the district where I would one day have to make my start, where palms left no handprints upon flesh that had known the touch of many, where fingerprints felt bloodied by the cost they came with, and the price I paid for these sins. I wasn’t sure that the world would ever exist without the crimson tint that seemed to follow me, an ever present reminder of what had been spilled by my mistakes, of the only path that could patch the holes left within the fabric of mine and my brother’s life.

I had no trouble recalling the day this had truly been set into motion, and it wasn’t the one that even I would expect it to be. It wasn’t the night when my drunken phone call had ended in my parents crossing over a bridge that they never should have been on, when they met an end they never should have known, even in their cruellest of nightmares. On the days when they were forced to imagine a world where they would never be there to shed tears at my high school graduation, when the papers demanded their names be signed to this twisted reality, they’d chosen a person. A person who would be tasked with ensuring Jeremy and I would be safe, as safe as we could be in the grips of grief — Jenna. Jenna Sommers. Aunt Jenna. Whichever way we would come to know her as more than the lovable hurricane who only passed through on Christmas Day, she was the plan for how we would survive.

Once the funerals had passed, once the guests and their homemade meals started to fizzle out, once there was nothing but silent agony to sit between the three of us, the cracks began to show. She was nothing but a kid herself, however justified that status may or may not be for a woman in her mid-twenties, it was the truth of who Jenna was. She wasn’t built for a life of intense structure and responsibility, one where she had to worry more about food on the table, than which of her friends had the most reliable stash of pot. There was something else there, something that I never could get close enough to touch, that frightened her to her very core. It was beyond this role that she never truly believed she would be given, something about this life, this town, this family that shook her faith in more than herself. At times, I wanted to believe that it was nothing more than an intense case of commitment phobia at play, but I had always been cursed with a sense for when there was more beneath the surface. Of a person, of a thing, of a story that didn’t sound just right — the intricacies of a piece that didn’t quite fit, they would trouble my mind, and sink to set my stomach into a frenzy. There was something more, something Jenna didn’t say aloud, and it was bigger than any fear she had of accidentally killing the kids her sister had left behind.

I couldn’t say whether it was that fear, my prying about it, or perhaps a combination of both, that set her on the course she chose. The one that led to her crashing through the front door on a Tuesday afternoon, freshly purchased luggage in one hand, an envelope containing two passes to Amsterdam airport in the other. At first, I was entirely sure that this was some form of mental break, that she had decided the only cure to the clouds that hung over us was to rush to a country famous for its tolerant drug policies. Then came the revelation that someone was being left behind, and it wasn’t Jeremy or myself. We had cousins abroad, Jenna would go on to announce, with her very best game show host impression. This was the prize we had won for being orphaned, a one way journey to the home of people whose names we hadn’t so much as heard before the grand plan had been revealed to us. These strangers who were to be treated as family, would take us in, and be so kind as to grant us the clean break that Jenna insisted was needed. It would be the only way to truly heal — away from the home whose bones were built by our parents, away from the never ending questioning about how we were doing, away from a place that now knew us as broken creatures. Away from her, away from our friends, away from any support system that we knew, away from any happy memory that we’d ever made.

That was the day, the one that led to this, that left me a shell of the person I had once known. Nothing more than a crumpled up piece of paper, fallen to my knees with no client in sight, with no escape within these hollow halls. The in-between was a blur at times, and if asked I couldn’t say if it was my mind’s attempt at self defense, or if the frenzied nature of our downward spiral was simply too close to Chaos to comprehend. A promised land of reprieve would turn to something far more sinister as the years ticked by, as age turned the page into adulthood and asked more of me than I ever thought I could give, as letters of demand piled high and someone had to break. This life of mine would find avenues anew to shatter my mind and the dreams it contained, my heart and the purity of love I’d once known, it would crawl into the depths of my core as another found their Nirvana within the wasteland that had been made of this body.

Regardless of how lost I became, in my own mind or the streets that claimed me, the burden of finding my way out still fell upon me. I couldn’t afford to succumb to the shadows, no matter how warm they could paint their welcomes, there was purpose to this sacrifice and it did not lay with me on these finely carpeted floors. I would always have to pull strength from places that didn’t exist, to land back on my feet, to make quick work of dipping beneath the heat of a shower’s spray. To return to a reflection I would pass on my way out, to an image of someone who might be mistaken for Elena Gilbert in a world outside of this. I would carry the visions gifted by the shadows home with me, I would allow for the memories of happier times to float along the canals that accompanied me on my stroll back to reality.

[carrottuan93]

Haven’t met you yet | Mark

Masterlist (1/4) | part2 - part3 - part4

Starring: MK x You

Tags: Mark Tuan, Fluff, Destiny, Waiting, Christmas, Bookworm, Nerd, Love, Fate

Total WC: 2631

Foreword: You promise yourself you’re going to wait for the perfect love even if it takes forever but you’re already barging on it’s doorstep without even realizing that love has met you already in the first place.

It’s all about timing and seeking reassurance in all the right places.

It’s a chance you never want to miss and an opportunity that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

Learn to take risks and learn to fall in love along the way. Cause true love is patient and it’ll come when you least expect it.

Have you been good all year round? You never know what Santa has in stored for you this Christmas.

[Feel free to listen on the playlist that I made for this one shot :)))]

"Eunhee, I should probably take a break from your endless blind date setups. Nothing is working out for me, seriously." You heaved a sigh, slouching on the couch as you gave your best friend an exasperated look the moment you entered her humble bookshop. She's too excited for your love life ever since she and her long-time university crush Jackson became an official couple on your birthday when you celebrated it on Jeju last year. It was a really cold New Year’s Eve when you chose to reserve this romantic restaurant by the beach as the venue for your special day. Eunhee doesn't have any idea about Jackson's plan when you booked a flight to Jeju Island for a week despite the busy season. Since you wanted to play the fairy godmother role for the both of them, you saved Jackson from worrying and suggested that he'd do it on your birthday instead. And just like that, they spent the New Year countdown melting into each other’s puddle while greeting you a happy birthday. The things you do for your friend, if that ain’t salty for your part (it is, for being the third wheel), automatically elected you as the sole Queen of singles club after Neun’s grand exit.

 Since their anniversary is just around the corner, they are planning to spend it once again on Jeju and Eunhee, for being the supportive sister from another mother that she is, will surely drag you with them at all costs since it has been your tradition to celebrate New Year’s Eve with your best friend. She is dying to set you up with someone so you won't be celebrating your birthday alone anymore.

 "I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought you and my friend Hae In will work out. What happened by the way? tell me about your date." She sat beside your spot after closing the shop and did the honor of pouring you a glass of your favorite merlot. This girl knows how to calm you down for sure. I mean she isn't your best friend if she have no idea that wine is your comfort drink. For whatever reason it is, you don't know why it helps to lessen your loneliness by drinking the night away. Maybe knocking you down into a deep slumber and finding yourself completely clueless the next day, alongside the horrible hangover can patch up the painful truth that you are still single up to this point of your life. In addition to the earthly and God-sent smell of neatly piled books crowding the interior of her paradise, Eunhee's bookshop is your go-to place at all times. You used to frequent this a lot during your childhood days where you first met her and together you shared the same passion and love for books and wine through all these years.

 "He's too overrated for my type. Like I don't know why we need to talk about all of his exes and why his relationship with them didn't work out when we can sit and be comfortable with just talking about our interests, 'us' the present and not his past. He's a perfectionist per se and I don't like it when a guy shows disinterest whenever I told them about myself as some nerdy bookish girl who craves for a netflix kind of night compared to his ideal dream girl-next-door whom you can freely bring to a club the minute next." You look down on the red liquid in your glass, appreciating its refined and classic smell that is clouding your nostrils. You're way too excited to go home so you can finally sink on your newly changed bed sheets and savor the enticing smell of fabric conditioner which you cannot live without. You glanced outside the window, observing the couples walking together under the falling snow, as if Valentines day has come all of a sudden in the middle of December. Red roses are a popular gift for the ladies as you've observed and you cannot help yourself from wondering if someone will ever give you flowers on Christmas, particularly pink roses, which you really admire. You always dreamt of tending a bed of pink roses only for yourself because the sight of it makes you really happy. It's just unfortunate that they aren't in full bloom during this season that's why you can only wait for February to come so you could save the trouble of finding a lame date and just buy yourself a bouquet for Valentines. You can give yourself flowers and still feel like in a relationship with all the fictional characters on your novels. No one is stopping you from dating them in your mind, you thought.

 “Ugh I can’t believe that guy. I thought he’s a good catch but actually a bummer for real. Don’t worry, I’ll choose better next time." She gave you a warm hug, patting your head as you lay your cheek on her shoulder. She released you and you gave her an 'I'm-okay-don't-worry' kind of smile. And you sat there for almost an hour talking about your other failed blind dates in the past week that all belongs in either Jackson or Eunhee's circle. You have no idea why none of them matched your personality. Either they are too wild or too boring for them to function as your potential boyfriend. No one could really captivate your specific taste in a guy. It's not that you are too picky and have a high standard when it comes to scouting a lover. You just have your own preferences when it comes to choosing someone whom you'll devote your precious time into. No relationship is perfect because everything is built out of flaws, misunderstandings, heartaches and drama but if you'll enter in a commitment at least choose someone who's worthy of that pain. You aren’t getting any younger and all you need right now is someone reliable, honest and trustworthy enough to not waste your feelings and emotion. You need a serious guy who will not take you for granted and who welcomes the idea of settling in the near future. At least someone with a nice job? Or a bearable attitude, outlook and philosophy in life? He doesn't need to be the most handsome or richest guy in the planet. After all, you always talk to God about giving you with someone who will really love all your imperfections and flawed nature. You always pray to the heavens above that maybe he'll cross the mountains and bring you the moon and the stars like they always did on the movies and in stories but you're fed with too much fantasy and began to think that maybe the guy for you was rather inexistent or an alien inhabiting a distant galaxy located in a million light years away.

 "A break is all I need after all. I will be fine tomorrow at Christmas eve. Don't worry about me having a date on our dinner. I'll bring some macarons as an antidote for all things bitter for you and Jackson's couple party." It's your best friend’s first Christmas with her boyfriend that's why they are throwing a mini gathering for their family and close friends. You had this feeling that you will be the only one attending the party without a date so might as well go straight to the kitchen and grab a bottle of whatever wine you can get and spend the evening dancing on tipsy toes and the floor would be very much pleased to accommodate your drunken needs. But you will not gonna end up wasted on a party especially Eunhee will not be there beside you to take you home since you do not want to rob Jackson of his time with her. Their happiness always matters before you and that's what makes you happy, to see your best friend happy with the man that he really deserves.

 "All right sweetcheeks. We'll not let you feel gloomy on Christmas eve. Good girls get a reward from Santa so you have nothing to worry about." She gave you a wink and clanked your glasses in unison as you both emptied the bottle of wine to your heart's content. You both agreed to watch a romantic holiday movie over a shared furry blanket and hear out your friend as she talked to you mostly of his boyfriend, as if you’ve read a book about the guide to 101 ways on how to fall for Jackson. Maybe the love bug bit too hard on your friend now that she really has the man of her dreams right on her fingertips, she can’t ask for anything else. Their love story is too underrated and you’re one of the living witnesses that a coin is never wasted on a wishing well. If you only joined Eunhee on her wishing spree every time you both pass by your University’s fountain of love, your coin bank would have gone empty by now. But you didn’t do it and saved all of your coins for yourself cause you really enjoy playing basketball in the arcades for fun. For all you can remember way back in college days, your friend is just one of the many timid girls who are cheering and admiring the ever-famous fencing athlete, business student and heartthrob, Jackson. You have classes together with him and that is how your job as a love guru began. You really deserve a raise because you did succeed on making them a couple. You could set up a dating agency and earn better than your current job for all you care. But amidst all the love advice that you gave to them, you’re the complete opposite of a matchmaker. Because love never finds your way despite making love work for the others. Love is sweet but a bitch most of the time.

 If love finally came to Eunhee and Jackson, hopefully yours would come in a whirlpool, sweeping you off of your feet and rendering all the other love stories made in the history irrelevant. You love spontaneity and you’re up for the extraordinary. In fact, you already made a dozen of playlists on spotify and counting, awaiting to be dedicated to him. You may have weird habits, like using ketchup as a dip for your honey glazed donuts, and still act straight and sit the whole day finishing a book with your favorite espresso at coffee shops. You love taking midnight trips to the art museum and you wonder if he can appreciate the abstract the way it makes your soul come alive. You love travelling back to time and studying history and it would be a bonus if he’ll join you on the 3% mint choco enthusiasts in the whole world. And your list goes on and on and it’ll take a lifetime to introduce yourself to someone but you want to meet him soon. You can’t wait for that time to annoy the hell out of him and if he still chooses to come back after your endless nagging, that’s the time when you’re not gonna let go of him anymore. You know for yourself, you’re looking for an almost perfect individual but you’re ready to tear up your never ending list of your ideal guy if someone could really surprise you and made you want to look at the world in a different dimension. After all, an ideal can never be achieved in real life. You cannot make someone ‘the one’ but you can only search for someone and make them ‘your one’. Things may not come out the way you want them to be but things will work out if he’s your destiny. It might be hard to find the rarest form of love, which is true love, but you’re willing to go on a train trip bound to a destination you’ve never been to given that he’ll meet you at the end of the tunnel. Love isn’t hard. Love is supposed to be easy. You just need patience and it’ll come to you when you least expect it.

 It's nearing 11 pm already when you feel lightheaded because of your wine intake and maybe due to the fact that your early sleeping schedule has been breached by tonight's unfortunate event. You bid goodbye to your friend despite her invitation that you should just sleep on her place and decided to call for an uber to save yourself from zoning out like a zombie because you can no longer walk straight with your clouded vision. Eunhee lives upstairs her bookstore because she manages her family's business when her father passed away that's why she isn't living with you anymore. You've grown to be independent now that you're living on your own after sharing the same apartment with your friend during your university days.

 "Tomorrow night at 8. I'll text you the address. Don't be late, Y/n. Have a goodnight!” Eunhee tucked you up nicely on your seat and soon the taxi sped up passing underneath the city lights in the mood for the radio's yuletide playlist. You're a bit drunk to see clearly but you can recognize the faint Christmas lights flickering throughout the busy streets. In just half an hour, the uber came to a stop and you hopped off the cab as you made your way towards the entrance of the condo that you’re residing in. You walked past the concierge and romantic music is donning the halls screaming love is in the air but not for you cause it makes you suffocated. Inside the elevator you noticed that you'll join a couple on your way to a 5-minute trip to the 12th floor. You silently wished that nobody would enter in between floors so as not to slow down your fast lane to your unit or else it'll be another episode of 'You-are-single-fgds' slapping your face. Geez, you badly want a damn break but the couple is too absorbed in their own selves, doing whatever cringey couple thing it is behind you, so you chose to ignore their reflection on the elevator walls.

 God spared you for that ride and luckily you reached the 12th floor in the fastest speed possible. You walked in a crazy zigzag pattern when you reached the front step of your door and you held on the handle to prevent yourself from falling directly on the ground. Your eyes are zooming in for the door lock as you punch in your keycode multiple times and still wonder why the door isn't granting you any access at all.

 "The fudge why aren't you opening?" You tried all possible combinations already but to no luck, you are still denied. For the 10th time, the lock gave up on you and is now urging for a password reset when all of a sudden the heavens finally heard your prayer and the door automatically opened. You fell towards a pair of arms, as if on cue you are saved once again from falling directly on the floor. You grabbed on a pair of shoulders, and you felt like you've reached your bed already as your senses are welcomed with a lovely scent of fabcon, which for you is the sweetest scent in the world.

 "Hmm. I can finally sleep now." You smiled the moment you felt safe and secured within the parameters of what you think of as your bed.

"Wait, you cannot sleep on my arms." It's too late for you to wake up because you're already dozing off to dreamland.

"Oh shoot. What am I gonna do with you?" You barged into someone's room and you haven't had the slightest idea of what you'll gonna do the next morning when you wake up.

[rockislandadultreads]

Multi-genre Romance: new romantic reads with a hint of something else

The Persuasion by Iris Johansen

Forensic sculptor Eve Duncan and ex-Navy Seal Joe Quinn are about to give Seth Caleb their trust for the most important duty of his life: keeping their daughter, Jane, safe at any cost. Her talent as an artist has caught the attention of a brilliant psychopath with a violent past. Seth, Jane's strongest ally and fiercest protector, is determined to keep her out of danger, but that becomes nearly impossible when Jane is forced to take matters into her own hands and confronts the madman who wants her for himself...and wants Seth Caleb dead. As Jane and Seth chase down their blood-thirsty adversary, they also have to reckon with their own epic love story. Can they finally commit to a life together, no matter how uncertain? As the two come face to face with danger, one thing is made clear: it will take both of them to confront and defeat this evil.

What You Wish For by Katherine Center

Samantha Casey is a school librarian who loves her job, the kids, and her school family with passion and joy for living. But she wasn’t always that way. Duncan Carpenter is the new school principal who lives by rules and regulations, guided by the knowledge that bad things can happen. But he wasn’t always that way. And Sam knows it. Because she knew him before—at another school, in a different life. Back then, she loved him—but she was invisible. To him. To everyone. Even to herself. She escaped to a new school, a new job, a new chance at living. But when Duncan, of all people, gets hired as the new principal there, it feels like the best thing that could possibly happen to the school—and the worst thing that could possibly happen to Sam. Until the opposite turns out to be true. The lovable Duncan she’d known is now a suit-and-tie wearing, rule-enforcing tough guy so hell-bent on protecting the school that he’s willing to destroy it. As the school community spirals into chaos, and danger from all corners looms large, Sam and Duncan must find their way to who they really are, what it means to be brave, and how to take a chance on love—which is the riskiest move of all.

28 Summers by Elin Hilderbrand

When Mallory Blessing's son, Link, receives deathbed instructions from his mother to call a number on a slip of paper in her desk drawer, he's not sure what to expect. But he certainly does not expect Jake McCloud to answer. It's the late spring of 2020 and Jake's wife, Ursula DeGournsey, is the frontrunner in the upcoming Presidential election. There must be a mistake, Link thinks. How do Mallory and Jake know each other? Flash back to the sweet summer of 1993: Mallory has just inherited a beachfront cottage on Nantucket from her aunt, and she agrees to host her brother's bachelor party. Cooper's friend from college, Jake McCloud, attends, and Jake and Mallory form a bond that will persevere -- through marriage, children, and Ursula's stratospheric political rise -- until Mallory learns she's dying. Based on the classic film Same Time Next Year (which Mallory and Jake watch every summer), 28 Summers explores the agony and romance of a one-weekend-per-year affair and the dramatic ways this relationship complicates and enriches their lives, and the lives of the people they love.

Last Girl Standing by Lisa Jackson, Nancy Bush

The best of friends . . . In the Portland suburb of West Knoll, Delta and her friends were the pretty, popular elite of the high school. That was fifteen years and a whole lifetime ago. Even then, backstabbing and betrayal erupted among the women in the group, a trio of which are now gathered around a hospital bed. And most of it revolved around the man lying close to death before them . . . Until the day . . . To Delta, it feels as if a nightmare unfolds every time they get together. It started at their senior year graduation party when a group of daredevils led by Tanner slipped under the safety rope and tumbled into the dangerous, fast-flowing river. One of their clique died following his lead. It all seemed spontaneous at the time. A thoughtless deed. But since then, there have been more deaths, more "accidents." And the question hovers, unspoken: who's next? They die . . . As the body count rises, Detective Chris McCrae, one of Delta's classmates and a long ago friend of Tanner's, realizes that stopping the terror means digging deep into the past. Hidden beneath the conflicting stories, gossip, and scandalous half-truths are secrets that someone will kill again and again to protect--until there is no one left to tell . . .

The Librarian of Boone's Hollow by Kim Vogel Sawyer

A traveling librarian ventures into the mining towns of Kentucky on horseback and rediscovers her passions in this powerful novel from the best-selling author of A Silken Thread. During the Great Depression, Addie Cowherd dreams of being a novelist and offering readers the escape that books gave her during her tragic childhood. When her adoptive father loses his job, she is forced to leave college and take the only employment she can find--delivering books on horseback to poor coal mining families in the hills of Kentucky. The small community of Boone's Hollow is suspicious of outsiders and steeped in superstitions that leave Addie feeling rejected and indignant. Although she finds an unexpected friend in an elderly outcast, the other horseback librarians scorn her determination to befriend Nanny Fay. Emmett Tharp grew up in the tiny mountain hamlet where most men either work in the coal mine or run moonshine. He's the first in the community to earn a college degree, and he has big dreams, but witnesses the Depression robbing many young men of their future. Then someone sets out to sabotage the library program, going so far as to destroy Addie's novel in progress. Will the saboteur chase Addie and the other librarians away, or will knowledge emerge victorious over prejudice? Is Emmett the local ally that Addie needs--and might their friendship lead to something more?

The Vanishing by Jayne Ann Krentz

Forty years ago in the small town of Fogg Lake, "The Incident" occurred: an explosion in the cave system that released unknown gases, causing peculiar effects on its residents, such as strange visions and ominous voices. Not wanting the government to get involved, they chalked it up to the hallucinogenic effects of mushrooms. Little did they know these effects would linger through the generations.... Residents Catalina Lark and Olivia Dayton have been best friends for years and own an investigation firm together, using what they call the "other sight" to help with their business. When Olivia goes missing, Cat frantically begins the search for her alone when the town does nothing about it. When scientist Slate Trevelyan shows up, she has no choice but to accept his help even though there's something about him she just can't trust. The duo discovers someone is hunting the two witnesses of a murder in Fogg Lake fourteen years ago—the very one Cat and Olivia witnessed as teens, one that they couldn't prove happened. Cat and Slate's search for Olivia takes them down a rabbit hole that is far more dangerous and mysterious than they ever expected, and with a killer in their midst, neither of them can foresee who will come out alive.

[im-fairly-whitty]

The Witcher Wolf: The Road to Kaer Morhen

Geralt and Jaskier have successfully retrieved Ciri just in the nick of time, but now must travel to the safety of Kaer Morhen with her and Mousesack the druid while Nilfgaard is searching for them.

Geralt's ability to turn into a wolf comes in handy, a mysteriously magical death unearths the beginning of a mystery he can't resist chasing, and he realizes that for Ciri's sake he must face the heretofore unaddressed relationship failings of his past.

[Chapter 1: By the Fireside]

Chapter 2: The Bandit

“Here, you look like you can use some coin. Have your little ones eaten anything today? I’ve got some food, take it.”

Geralt slowly drifted back to full consciousness as the sound of a stranger’s voice in the campsite pushed him awake. After his shift watching Ciri for nightmares he’d taken to meditating outside their tent for the rest of the night, his face hidden in his hood.  

“In exchange why don’t you tell me where you’ve come from?” The voice continued from across their corner of the refugee camp. “Have you seen any troop movements during your travels? Any particular dangers along your way or tales you’ve heard from others?”

Geralt opened his eyes to peer across the burnt out fire pit. The sun was only just beginning to rise and the camp to stir but he could still see the man with a blond ponytail talking to the parents of Ciri’s playmates from the night before. He seemed to be freely distributing food to the children from a satchel, food that only Geralt could scent as smelling faintly of death.

Geralt’s eyes widened as the man’s familiar scent registered, taking in the man’s blue tunic and the black leather patch strapped over one eye. He hadn’t seen the bastard since the last time he’d been robbed at knifepoint in Novigrad.

Geralt got to his feet silently, crossing the campsite in several quick steps and latching a hand onto the man’s shoulder, unceremoniously pulling him out of camp and into the forest brush before he could react. Geralt was careful to pin the man’s hands behind him before a startled dagger could have the chance to find its way into Geralt’s ribs.

“What are you doing here Feliks?” Geralt rumbled as soon as they were out of earshot from the camp, shoving the man a few steps from him as he released him. “Shouldn’t you be pickpocketing merchants in Novigrad this time of year?”

Feliks’ expression was panicked and cold as Geralt released him, but it flashed to one of delight instead as he turned and got a look at who had scruffed him. He caught his balance against a tree, looking up at the witcher with an excited smile.

“Geralt of Rivia!” Feliks cried. “Goodness, I never thought I’d see you here of all places? Why, I don’t think we’ve seen each other since I kept the boys from robbing you at knifepoint last year in the leatherworking district. How are you? Is Jaskier with you? Where did-”

“My question first.” Geralt interrupted, knowing from experience that the excitable bandit leader could out-babble even Jaskier given the chance. “What are you doing in a refugee caravan this far from the city? I thought you’d given up life on the road in favor of benevolently ruling your patch of gang turf.”

“Well you can’t really expect me to just sit around in the same city all year, can you Geralt?” Feliks said with a smile, hands on his hips. “The boys hold down the fort whenever I feel like going for a jaunt, there’s been so much buzz around the Nilfgaardians I thought it might do me some good to get a bit of fresh air. See the countryside, scout some troop movements, pick some corpses clean.”

He cheerily pulled at the strap of his satchel, hefting its contents. Well that explained the lingering smell of death. “Nothing gets coin moving like war my friend, and information is the hottest commodity around. Why pass the chance to stretch my legs on to a lackey when I’m perfectly capable of hopping refugee camps to collect it myself?”

“Only you would think of a trip to the countryside and looting corpses as equally enjoyable outings.” Geralt said flatly.

“Oh don’t you tease me like that, witcher.” Feliks said with a wink, flipping a coin in the air and catching it. “You’re the one who taught me how to shake down a stiff back when I was just getting started, remember? Could have cut me down in my own oversized stolen boots for getting into your saddlebags uninvited, but instead you showed me how to hold my sword right. Besides, coin does these refugees a lot more good than it’ll ever do the dead whose pockets it came from, even if it has got some blood on it.”

“If I’d known my advice would lead you to becoming Novigraad’s youngest syndicate leader I’d have trussed you up and tossed you in the river instead.” Geralt said dryly, despite his best efforts unable to keep the barest hint of fondness from creeping into his voice.

Even though Geralt didn’t approve of all of Feliks’...methods, he also knew that the poor who lived in the neighborhoods he claimed never seemed to go without for as long as Feliks was in charge. The bandit had come a long way from the starry-eyed young man Geralt had first caught stealing from him years ago.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re wandering into war zones alone.” Geralt said sternly. “Information won’t net you a payday if you’re too dead to sell it.”

“Oh, I’m not alone!” Feliks said brightly, then hesitated with a sheepish smile. “Or at least I wasn’t until yesterday. I’ve been traveling with Wit of Drobiazg again, but she said all the cat witchers are being called back home to the caravan until they can tell which way the war’s going to blow. You know how the cats are with their assassination contracts, want to make sure they’re getting hired by the winning side. Are you heading back to your keep too? I imagine any witcher will be glad to hole up for the next while, probably won’t be many contracts other than necrophages for a long while.”

Geralt jolted as a puzzle piece clicked into place in his memory.

Wit of Drobiazg, who shared the same last name as the late spymaster of Cintra.

Wit of Drobiazg, the cat witcher who was infamous for her unusually strong Igni casting.

Geralt had scooped Wit out of a disastrous contract-gone-wrong decades ago, back when she’d practically still been a kitten, making her one of the rare cat witchers Geralt ever risked hanging around the occasional times their paths had crossed over the years. She might like him for saving her life, but it didn’t change the fact that hanging around a cat always felt a bit like storing a bomb with a lit fuse in your pack.

But Feliks had never seemed to mind in the slightest. The two forces of chaos had taken a liking to each other after Geralt had accidentally introduced them a few years back, during a particularly trying fortnight when the three of them had been trapped in the same town together.

“You two travel together often don’t you? Has Wit ever told you about her family?” Geralt asked, latching onto his epiphany before it had the chance to slip away. “Does she remember anything from before her trials?”

“I...maybe? She’s mentioned them a few times I suppose. Why?” Feliks said, looking thoroughly confused by the abrupt change in topic.

“Did she keep her family name after she was given up or did she just choose it herself?” Geralt asked.

“I think it was her family name?” Feliks said, squinting and scratching his head. “She wasn’t too young when she was taken by the cats I think, she could have remembered it when it came to taking her witcher name. You’d have to ask her to be sure though, she doesn’t like talking about her childhood too much. I mean, you know how it is with witchers. Bit of a sore subject for you lot isn’t it?”

“Hmmm.” Geralt grunted.

He knew he should probably drop it--gods knew he already had enough on his plate to worry about with getting Ciri and the others to safety--but he never had been good at letting mysteries alone once he’d gotten started thinking about them. Doubly so if he found a lead.

“Do you know where the caravan is traveling? Where I can find them?” Geralt asked.

He’d never dare tracking down the cat witchers’ caravan uninvited...but perhaps a message with some carefully phrased questions could be sent instead?

“Of course not.” Feliks said with an easy smile.

Geralt sighed, pulling out his coin purse. “Alright, how much is that information going to cost me?”

“Sorry Geralt, not for sale.” Feliks said with a good-natured shrug. “Friends and family discount means I don’t sell information on family and friends where it’s not wanted.”

“Even if I’m a friend too?” Geralt asked, tipping an amount of money into his hand, letting the coins glint temptingly. “I’m a friend asking a friend about a mutual friend.”

Feliks only chuckled. Geralt poured a few more coins but Feliks just shook his head. Geralt let a truly exorbitant amount of coin spill into his hand, far more than he’d ever dream of actually handing over, just to see what would happen.

But instead of a greedy spark lighting in the bandit’s eye, his smile faded and he frowned, looking up at Geralt.

“Geralt, is something wrong?” Feliks asked. “Why do you need to find the caravan so badly?”

Geralt sighed, tipping the coin back into his purse and tucking it away. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ve just been meaning to ask her something, then I was curious to see if you could be budged. My apologies if it came off as insulting.”

“If you’d asked me anything else I’d gladly have taken your coin, but...” Feliks grimaced. “You don’t make it very far in my line of business if you don’t know what’s worth more than money.”

“Perhaps I can pay you for some other information then.” Geralt said. If Feliks was dealing in information then he would have heard if soldiers were searching for a certain ashen-haired princess. “Jaskier and I are trying to get to the Hertch mountains as quickly as we can, have you heard of anything that could get in our way?”

“Now that I can help you with.” Feliks said, his smile returning. “There’s plenty of-”

“Geralt?”

Geralt tensed, looking up to see Ciri tromping through the brush toward them, rubbing her eyes. He sighed silently. He should have dragged Feliks farther into the woods, he hadn’t wanted the bandit to see her, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

“I woke up and you were gone.” Ciri said, reaching him and sleepily burying her face against Geralt’s side, her hood falling to reveal her snowy blonde hair before he could catch it.

Geralt looked up warily just in time to see Feliks’ eyes widen.

He knew.

Geralt sent him the iciest warning look he could manage.

“This is Fiona.” Geralt said, every syllable carefully measured and loaded with unspoken meaning as he stared Feliks down. “My daughter. We’re traveling to safety away from the war.”

“Your daughter.” Feliks repeated, looking like he was barely managing not to trip over a whirlwind of thoughts inside his head. He blinked, pulling on a smile. “So you and Jaskier adopted then, how lovely! I’m sure you’re all very lucky to have each other.”

Geralt watched Feliks rub nervously at the edge of his eyepatch, biting his lip as he looked at Ciri with concern.

“Are you sure that...?” Feliks started, but his voice trailed off.

He scratched the back of his head, looking like he was fighting back a grimace as he looked up at Geralt. When he spoke again his voice was hushed and strained. “You really shouldn’t be here with her Geralt, not in a camp like this, there’s too many eyes around who will sell you out for their next meal.”

“We’ve been traveling away from roads for days.” Geralt said, fatigue creeping into his voice now. “We needed a chance to get more supplies and to find out what’s going on so we don’t run headlong into a trap or a military camp. This was our first chance.”

“Well you need to get out as quickly as you can.” Feliks said, his gaze deadly serious as he glanced around. “I’m not the only one here harvesting information to resell, and if the emperor knows she’s traveling with a witcher and a bard that’s going to be a wanted poster description so colorful that even the drunkest peasant can remember it. A princess, a witcher and a bard, it sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.”

“And a druid.” Geralt sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“And a druid?” Feliks said, shaking his head with a bemused smile that managed to stick for at least a second before dropping away again. “Well then, here’s the information you asked for. Stay away from roads and towns, if you need to get supplies only send the druid or Jaskier to get them since you and the girl will be the most easily recognized. You’re ahead of the armies for now but only barely, and the longer you travel the more refugees there will be competing for resources, so try to move as fast as you can to stay ahead of them.

“Most large bridges are already locking down and demanding inflated tolls, so avoid those whenever you can and get across the river another way. You’ll also start seeing towns and villages who have preemptively sided with the emperor to avoid being ransacked too and they’ll have notices looking for the princess posted before you’ve even arrived, so beware. Why the emperor wants her so badly is anyone’s guess, but he’s already doing ugly things to try and get her.”

“Thank you Feliks, we’ll do our best to follow your advice.” Geralt said soberly. He looked down to brush hair from Ciri’s face. Her eyes were still closed, by now all too used to adults discussing the danger looming over her. “Fiona, go wake Jaskier and Mousesack, tell them we’re leaving as soon as we’re packed.” he said, careful to keep in the habit of using her false name.

Ciri blinked up at them both for another moment as she hesitated, but then went off back to the camp without a word.

“How...?” Feliks asked, watching her go.

“Safer if you don’t know.” Geralt said, getting an understanding nod from Feliks.

“Are you staying out here for long?” Geralt asked, pulling out a reasonable amount of coin and handing it to Feliks.

“Not without Wit.” Feliks said grimly, pocketing the coin. “Like you said, there’s no payday if you’re dead. No, I think you witchers have the right idea, I’ll probably hang around home until things have a chance to settle. Besides, Nilfgaard barely even leaves scraps behind to scavenge from once they’ve passed through. Just ash.”

“I wish you safe travels then.” Geralt said.

“To you as well.” Feliks paused for a moment. “Geralt, I can’t promise anything, but if I do have the chance to pass a message on to the caravan would you want Wit to know you’re looking for her and will be found at Kaer Morhen?”

Geralt hesitated. Vesimir had expressly forbidden cats from entering the keep as a rule, but he had made a reluctant exception for Lambert’s cat friend Aiden before. There was no guarantee that Wit would even get his message, let alone respond, never mind actually make the trek all the way out to Kaer Morhen. In all reality it would probably be years before he had the chance to find her again, meaning there was no real harm in giving implied permission for her to visit the keep.

“Yes, you can tell her.” Geralt said. “But only if it’s just her, I don’t need the entire caravan knowing. And nothing about...nothing about anything else, right?”

“Family and friends discount.” Feliks said with a crooked smile. “Your secrets are safe with me. Even if they’re the most inadvisable kind.” His smile dropped. “Now get moving, you’ll be lucky to get out of the camp before anyone else sees you or the girl.”

Geralt nodded, turning back to camp without another word and already grimly contemplating the decidedly town-less rest of the journey ahead of them.

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

Feliks the bandit belongs to @ibrithir-was-here and is great friends with Wit of Drobiazg the Cat school witcher. 

You can see their character designs here: https://im-fairly-whitty.tumblr.com/post/614599362829533184/witcher-friends-d-wit-of-drobiazg-has-many

[gothamincarnate]

Jason had an alter borne of Willis' abuse & the period when he was homeless. Little Shit is a little. A child stuck at about 10yrs old, holding onto most of Jason's scariest moments pre-Robin. When Little Shit is around, Jason fawns more and is jumpy, eager to help even to his detriment.

Willis is an introject based on Willis himself. When Willis is around, Jason becomes far more self-loathing and hateful, sometimes he’ll be caught cursing himself out under his breath after a mistake. Willis is, obviously, incredibly unpleasant to be around but hard to convince to leave.

As he grows more comfortable at Bruce’s house and is adopted etc, LS begins to reform himself into an alter of Peter. (an alter of an alter)

He was dissociating pretty heavily as he offered himself up as a hostage to Two Face. Now, Robin isn't the mantle of Robin, so he normally goes by Rob. Rob is pretty convinced he (& Jason's body) are immortal. This is part of why Jason is such a risk taker. Rob is also determined to save as many as he can because of course he's immortal.

As Jason gets used to being Robin, Peter begins to appear after patrols more, helping Jason cope with the pain..

Peter is the responsible one who is out the most (host) alongside Jason. Peter helps Jason with homework and helps transfer memories that Jason’s 'swiss cheese’ ptsd causes him to forget.

LS is mostly dormant, but sometimes -- very rarely -- will come out.

Following the Jokers attack, three splits actually happened: Please, Nameless & Heywood.

Heywood holds the memories of the events preceding it-- going to look for his mother, her betrayal and her standing there watching. Jason & LS will often feign that they remember. When Heywood is fronting, it's because someone asked or mentioned his death. It's a rapid blink, a straightening of his shoulders. Heywood is the one that holds Jason’s emotional abandoment. Heywood will obsess over Batman, often clingy towards his family.

Heywood has major separation anxiety when in the field with Batman. Heywood will also try to win at any cost, only to absolutely break down at even a light scolding by Batman (unless Rob or Jason take over and stubbornly snap back at Batman)

Please holds onto/was born of Jason's fear but also the shame that he'd cried and begged Joker to stop. Please hides in the back, hardly ever comes out. When he does, it's basically a flashback, in fact it's often mistaken as such. Please is a middle, permanently stuck at 15

Please is a as postponed work that appeared when Jason was 18. Please n alter that doesn’t appear directly after an event. Please formed a few months after an explosion caused a day-long dissociative episode that prompted Bruce to sit down and talk with him. The reflection started connecting things in such a way that it formed an alter three years after the event.

Nameless was only created after he came back to life, and it holds onto the memories of dying & waking up in the coffin. Nameless is actually rather collected and calm, even in dangerous situations. Like Rob but even colder.

Nameless was created as he was digging out of the coffin. He doesn’t remember much about digging out aside from a general sense of fear and a few highlights. But as another late work, it didn’t fully manifest until Jason was caught in a fight with Clayface that flooded the memories out.

Jason is unaware of all of these. They show up as different personality traits, often vastly different styles of dress, word choice or music tastes but nothing terribly obvious. Jason is still convinced he’s only Jason. He’s holding them back, corralling them in.

Rob is the one most present, coming out on Jason’s high-pain days. Jason’s reactions to getting injured in the field vary wildly based on if Please or Rob/LS is fronting.

Jason begins to realize something is wrong when Bruce asks him to keep track of his ‘space outs’ so they can decide what to do about them. Seeing a chance, Peter decides to use the chance to write notes to Jason. Peter explains the basics of the system and writes out a whole letter about how Jason really shouldn’t freak out.

He looks into it on his own and after a few months of research and ‘meeting’ everyone, he decides to go to Bruce with it so that he can go to therapy.

Carrie is created after Jason begins to see Dr. Marigold. Carrie is a gatekeeper and an operator. She helps Jason process memories and share important skills among alters.

Jason also learns general grounding techniques during non-alter related unreality episodes (depersonalization-derealization disorder) -- if an alter is dissocaitive during fronting, Carrie, Peter or Jason will cofront.

As Jason begins to heal another few alters, Fein and Fox show up. Fein is Jason’s new non-trauma holding middle and Fox is Jason’s new non-trauma holding little. Fein and Fox are only ‘allowed’ to come out when Jason’s at home, most often in the evenings where the family is relaxing around dinner. It doesn’t work quite that smoothly and Fein or Fox will often come out at random which forces Peter or Jason to push their way to co-front. They have happy memories of various parts of Jason’s childhood/teenhood.