#okay this has been rattling in my head since I watched the episode

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #20

Best of Luck

With a title like "Best of Luck," this sounds exactly like an Anti-Fairy episode. I'm intrigued.

I love how Cosmo and Wanda's house can be wherever it needs to be, including inside Hazel's desk.

I wish we would've had that lore in the OG series, because it makes a lot of sense (and makes the concept of riding around with your godkids and sitting in elementary school all day less boring). I think I'm yoinking this for 'fics.

I like how they still have old-fashioned desks in the future. I've never had these desks.

Peri and Dev are together again... Peri's trying his best <3 I like how Dev is a grump. That feels right.

"Peace is boring and lacking in swag." - Dev Dimmadome, 2024

I love him.

I enjoy how that random horse has been here for tons of episodes. It's just silly.

I really like Winn. They have so many happy things to say about life and their friends:

"Pulling out paper, even though you'd used it to defeat your previous 3 opponents?? /smiles and clutches hands to chest while shaking head. "Inspired."

They deserve to be the cool kid everyone likes and wants to befriend. I support it. I hope they have a really nice life and many joys.

Hey, wait a minute! I WAS right about Winn only having freckles on one cheek. I think it just flips sides when they turn.

Peri in his debut: I'm gonna take you from Dev to Dev-ine!! Dev now, on the heels of a massive meltdown: What happened to you 'taking me from Dev to Dev-ine?' I don't FEEL very Dev-ine >:( Peri: :')

I enjoy the detail of Dev pushing his shades back on his nose after throwing his head back and then snapping it forward. They didn't even fall down or reveal his eyes, but it was the correct move for him to do.

I like how every time Dev moves his head, his shades catch the ceiling lights.

Ohhh, when snooty Peri comes out, you've gone too far!

... I was wrong!! Dev just raised his voice and Peri crumpled. I love him.

That music sting, tho...

For some reason, that last one gives me bigger "Oh, that's totally Poof" energy than any other screenshot I've taken? idk why; I don't remember Poof getting angry often.

Hang on- I watch Season 9 a lot. Let me check my usual highlights...

... ah. I don't like what this says about me.

-> omg, his staff is based on his rattle! I didn't even notice that until now!! That's so clever!

There's something really funny about posting this picture right before jumping back into my liveblog.

Anyway, Peri is trying SO hard to explain the rules... He looked like he was about to cry and then he snapped; let's see where this is going.

OHHHH, he's quitting! I knew it~! He can't handle the pressure. He's too baby!!

I cannot believe this man lasted 4.5 months on the job. Every time he showed up, he was upset.

Peri: You know what, Dev? I'm DONE. Dev: Well, I'm done-ER! Peri: I'm the done-EST! Dev: Stick a fork in BOTH OF US, THEN!!!

Neither of them is okay.

And he's got tears down his cheeks... Freakin' GEEZ, Dev! You snapped him like a twig.

I'm glad he's having a hard time adjusting to being a nice person. lol. It really underscores why he's so mean at the start of the series.

The fact that he had no issue taking off his shades after befriending Hazel in "A New Dev-elopment" (even willing to go to school with them off and talk nicely to his teacher that Monday, regardless of the fact that this was his first time in the series doing that and people might've talked about it) gives me the inkling that he probably HAS tried being nice in the past, and he doesn't MIND being nice... until he's hurting, and then his self-defense mechanism is to shut down and wall everyone out.

He WANTS to be "a happy kid." He just keeps getting bit every time he places his trust in someone. Including Hazel (in his POV) since he couldn't move past his "Wait a minute... Did you WISH for us to be friends??" meltdown in spite of the good times that came from that wish.

He tried so hard to see the good in his dad in "Lost and Founder's Day." Even when his dad snapped at him for asking if he could help and told him to go "Eat a lizard."

Even when his dad blatantly used electricity to shock people's brains and Dev very clearly had issues with it. He tried SO HARD to turn it around to "Oh, so you can help kids!!"

He even tried to see the good in Vicky [before she entered the house] when Hazel tried cheering him up with the thought of, "Well yeah, maybe you didn't want a princess cosplayer at your birthday, but she might be a really COOL party princess!"

He just keeps trying and has such high hopes and patience despite getting nipped every time he speaks up and reaches out. That's why he stayed un-miserable for so long before tipping over and getting Peri assigned to him. Tell him how high to jump and he'll do his best without even asking "How high?"

So he took that leap with Hazel. And the floor went out from under him.

I read once that if your natural response is to close off when you're struggling and/or just handle everything yourself even if it's a lot, it indicates your past experiences of reaching out yielded no help, so it's hard to see the point in asking others for help in the future.

I don't have the place I read this on hand and I didn't dive for the sources back then, so take it with a grain of salt, but it's all I've been thinking about while watching Dev in this show.

btw, I had to rewatch part of "Lost and Founder's Day" to grab that screenshot, and it's hilarious to me that even when he's talking to his own son, Dale still introduces himself as "Dale Dimmadome, owner of Dimmadome Global." He's just like his dad.

Okay... Blue smoke? Anti-Fairy time??

OHHHH, it's the man of the hour!! Welcome back, loser!

I love the little shift of him flexing his wing. I like how similar the wing is to the old show (Black with blue markings).

Eric Bauza, is that you?? Score!

Okay, I looked it up to see if that was true and first of all, yes it is, and second, he's also credited as Peri's VA, so I love that! I hadn't bothered to check who Peri's VA was, but that literally makes so much sense; their parents have always shared, so of COURSE they'd share too. That's so smart...

Hm... Can't say I'm the biggest fan of Foop's name changing to Irep and I'm not sure I like his design, but maybe it'll grow on me.

That said, the name change is a really clever way to get Irep to explain the lore of how he's the opposite of Peri without being info-dumpy.

I'm glad he kept his facial hair. And he's got big boy fangs! I miss his F-shaped hair curls, though, or maybe I need a better angle.

Hey, he has a dark jacket like the lab coat I gave him in my high school design. I wasn't far off!

No freckles, but in OG canon, they only really showed up when he flushed, so no surprise. I don't expect to see them, but it would be funny if he did flush and they were still there.

Also, I really like the ultraviolet glow of his crown. That makes so much sense.

Insert joke about how Anti-Fairies used to be invisible to the naked eye until Season 5

... He is actually REALLY cute. He looks a lot like his old self.

Are other Anti-Fairies also going to have square heads? I don't mind Foop having a square one if all his species does, but I'll be a bit surprised if he's the only creature with a cube head.

I think it's funny that they took away Peri's eyelashes when he grew up, but left Irep with one. That feels incredibly right.

I love his unique scruffy eyebrows. That's cute.

Irep, who previously had such a traumatizing experience as a godparent that he spent that episode screaming and crying, his magic souring in a range of colors all the way down to green in one of the only appearances of green magic in the series, and literally almost gave up on life before he gained the courage to lash out at Vicky despite knowing full-well his magic would immediately backlash and torture him for it: "I am once again ready to take responsibility for a mean human."

This only exacerbates my analysis of Peri not being ready for godkids and that's flippin' hilarious.

The nerd finally put on shoes!!

Dev wished for it to be tomorrow, so now it's tomorrow (waning crescent, of course).

No Dev-Irep sleepover? Robbed >:(

??? Obsessed with Hazel walking into school chatting about what she spent her night doing. I love how this means Irep just... yoinked Dev forward in time.

/horse in the hospital voice: I didn't know he could do that.

This episode's set-up & plot is just great in general.

Everyone else has gone to bed and Dev's had no sleep or breakfast. He needs a snack.

Ooh, wait- what? Mace wand!! ... I don't think I'll keep that in my canon, but that's a clever way to parallel Poof's staff. It's funny to me that the posh British boy did not get a staff. He WOULD like bashing people with the mace, huh?

It delights me to see Irep left-handed. He's been a leftie since the day he was born, all through to Season 10 :')

I like how Irep started crying when Dev told him he was "better than Peri." I mean... He's not wrong- that IS literally all Foop-Irep has wanted to hear since the minute he was born.

He is literally the same person he's always been. lol.

"Best of Luck" & "Two and a Half Babies"

I wonder if he's still claustrophobic, because that was, like... his big thing after escaping Abracatraz. I doubt it will come up (and he's much older now), but since he's an antagonist, I assume he has a weakness, and that would be an interesting one to bring back.

-> Actually if I'm remembering right, it was his alternate personality's phobia (Foop vehemently denying it while his alter literally screamed at the top of his lungs and doubled down), which is definitely implyin' somethin' about which of them remembers Abracatraz better. Hmm...

FINALLY! I don't think we ever got to see umbrellas open indoors as a form of bad luck in the OG series. It's one of those tiny questions always floating in the back of my mind, sdklfj.

I like how Dev still went to class. He has rule-breaking magic at his fingertips and this is where he's spending his time.

I guess it's not like he can leave the school; his whole goal is to get in that schoolwide Rock, Paper, Scissors competition.

I like Hazel eating from her popcorn bucket of 4-leaf clovers.

is Irep going to try to poke her and then, like... break out in hives or something? lol.

[animebw]

Over-Analyzing the Kumirei Make-Up Hug Because I've Lost All Control

Well, it's official. These two have broken my brain a little. I've had this hug rattling around inside my head this whole week. I've been re-watching it, obsessing over it, spending way too much time thinking about it, and I need to get those thoughts out before I go insane from overexposure. So, okay. This is my extensive breakdown of that one scene from Hibike Euphonium Season 3 Episode 11 where Kumiko and Reina hug and why it's so wonderful.

First things first, we need some context. The scene right before this one is Reina revealing she's going to study music in America. As she and Kumiko ride home on the train, Reina pushes Kumiko to see if she's made up her own mind re:going to music school or not. And while Kumiko doesn't say one way or the other, her non-committal response suggests she already knows deep down it's not in the cards for her, and she just needs that push from Mizore later in the episode to come to terms with it.

Keep in mind, they still haven't made up yet. This is the first conversation we've seen them have since the break-up that isn't a huge argument. As far as Reina knows, Kumiko's still angry about the way she treated her while they were fighting. And as we'll find out later on, she's planning to cut off their relationship forever if they're not both going to music school. So seeing Kumiko pretty clearly indicate that she's not going to follow her footsteps, she realizes there's a very real chance that this argument will be the last thing between them before she says goodbye.

Which is why this is the moment she finally apologizes. Because suddenly, the stakes of not speaking up while she still can are very, very real. Imagine what must be going through her head right now. What if this ends with Kumiko still hating me for being so horrible to her? What if it's too late to make things right? What if this precious, irreplacable thing we have is already broken and it's all my fault? If she's going to apologize, it has to be now while she still has time, while there's still a chance of making things right before the bonds between them snap forever.

But of course, Kumiko being Kumiko, she doesn't hesitate to defuse every last scrap of tension between them with her sarcastic complaining here. Because while her tendency to play peacekeeper has gotten her in trouble this season, her ability to believe in the best of people has always been her greatest strength. And as colossal a pain as Reina has been, well, if Reina wasn't such an extreme personality, she wouldn't be standing here in the first place. She loves Reina. She trusts Reina. And right now, she believes in what they have way too much to let this push them apart.

Which brings us at last to the hug itself, which is pretty much a microcosm of the whole separation anxiety conflict playing out between them this season. Reina's scared of losing her and wants to make it right while she still can. But for Kumiko, that was never even in question. In a strange way, she takes this whole conflict both more seriously and less seriously than Reina. Less seriously because she's able to brush it off so easily, more seriously because that's just how much she believes in their love.

I also want to highlight Chika Anzai's delivery of this little "What?" She sounds so genuinely shocked and flustered, like she's realizing how strong and secure Kumiko's feelings for her are and doesn't know how to deal with it and it's so cute god dammit.

But she's still scared. She still can't shake the fear of losing her beloved. So Kumiko has to take the lead, ushering her into her embrace and squeezing her as tight as she possibly can until Reina finds the courage to lift her own arms up.

And once again, Kumiko handles it by being very silly in a way that only makes her sincerity bleed through all the stronger, making funny noises as if to vocalize how tight she's hugging Reina. Leaning into her natural goofball tendencies to defuse the tension, because Reina's a girl who takes everything way too damn seriously, and every once in a while she needs a reminder that it's okay to breathe, you know?

But it's this little moment that really puts it over the top for me. Reina's expression, the way she nuzzles into Kumiko, the shaky, trembling breath we hear her inhale... she was fucking terrified of losing her. In her mind, there was a very real chance they'd never make up and Kumiko would spend the rest of her life hating her. But instead, Kumiko essentially told her, through her attitude and actions, that there was never any chance of that. And she clings to her girl with all her strength as if to convince herself that this is real, that Kumiko's really in her arms right now, that she didn't mess everything up, that they're actually going to be okay... god, this moment's so fucking good.

And at last, she opens her eyes, her fears banished, overwhelmed with happiness and relief...

...which, of course, is perfectly reflected in Kumiko's eyes.

Long story short, this hug is essentially Kumiko telling Reina through actions what she'll finally be able to put into words after Mizore's concert: we won't change. Even apart, we'll stay forever special. So have a little faith in me, just like I have faith in you. It even parallels the overall structure of that later scene: Reina comes in with heavy emotional stakes, afraid that they're going to lose each other, but Kumiko defuses the tension by being a goofball, and through that silliness shows Reina how much faith she has in their relationship that she's able to joke around even at such a difficult moment. When they first met, it was Reina's passion and drive that swept Kumiko away; now, it's Kumiko's turn to pull Reina along, setting the pace of their relationship for the first time as she proves her devotion to the girl she loves.

(Which is also paralleled by the crosswalk scenes because in season 1 the crosswalk was where Reina first really swept Kumiko away whereas now it's a place where Kumiko's the one pushing Reina along into the future and god I'm so fucking PROUD OF HER LOOK AT HOW FAR SHE'S COME)

[airbendertendou]

LOVE YOU, HATE FOOLISH! ♡

synopsis : you work at one of bonten's clubs, but recently, have been acting suspicious. a member is sent to watch you and is met with something completely different.

cw : bonten boys being sneaky , brief violence , mentions of guns , an abundance of pet-names

song inspo ; love foolish by twice

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

someone is following you. the club isn't far from your home — far from your boys. footsteps fall behind yours quietly and you gulp. shaky hands drag your phone from your pocket, pressing on the one until he answers.

"on your way home?" he doesn't say hello. he knows your routine — knows it's time for you to be near him. "[name]?"

"hey! yeah, a pepperoni is fine," you pause before letting out a breathy laugh. "you know how i feel about my pizza."

"someone following you?" his voice turns stern and serious. you let out a quiet mhm as you attempt to locate your stalker from the corner of your eye. it's what you'd rehearsed ; your panic words incase you were in trouble. "how close are you? i'll meet you halfway."

you turn your head with a nonchalant hum before rattling off the street-name you're near. a flash of a tattoo catches your eye before it's out of view — it makes you even more nervous.

you let out another staged giggle, "yeah, just don't watch another episode without me. promise?"

"already on my way, sweetheart."

— SANNOH HOODLUM SQUAD! ♡ ft. ran haitani

the sound of a motorcycle disturbs the quiet neighborhood around you. a breath is let out of your lungs at the sight of headlights coming towards you. echoed footsteps have long since fallen quiet, but that only heightened your fears.

cobra steps off of his bike, face stern and serious as he makes his way towards you. noboru sends a grin your way, yamato towering behind him as they scope out the area around you. cobra frowns at you, "you okay?"

"physically." crunching of glass hits your ears and you spin around. streetlights hit purple hair and you stiffen once more. "ran?"

he looks you up and down, his tongue in his cheek before he grins. "heya, doll."

your chest is pressed to a back before you realize it. cobra is looming in front of you, shoulders and chest widened threateningly. noboru is to your left ; yamato on your right, matching scowls on their faces.

the blond's voice is a growl as he speaks, "and who are you?"

"just the boss," ran raises his hands in surrender. he's too casual ; too relaxed to be outnumbered. sleepy eyes meet yours. "of sorts."

your breath catches in your throat. "he sent you... after me?" ran hums, tilting his head tauntingly. your eyebrows furrow, "why?"

"thinks you're up to somethin'." ran shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. a flash of silver catches your eyes — he's carrying his gun, of course. "in enemy territory. telling secrets."

the words oddly make you relax a little. a misunderstanding, that's all it is. but, before you can speak, cobra does. "just who is your boss?"

ran grins, "you don't want to know."

"i live in... opposing territory," you speak up. brushing past cobra — you smile over your shoulder reassuringly at him — you stand between the men. "that's all. i travel back and forth between other claimed areas."

humming once more, ran thinks over what you said. he eyes the three men with you — sees how guarded you are. his eyes scrape over your figure once more before he nods. "okay. i'll believe you."

turning without another word, ran leaves you standing there. he looks over his shoulder at you, eyes gleaming dangerously. "get home safely, doll."

waiting until ran is long out of sight, cobra wanders up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. you turn, letting out a breath of relief and grin. cobra frowns further, "don't get in front of me like that again, okay?"

your smiles fades at his words. cobra sighs, hands dropping to your hips as he squeezes. "he had a gun, angel. would much rather i got shot than you."

"whatever you say, mister sannoh, sir." you kiss his cheek delicately before walking to his best friends. "and thank you both for coming with him. i appreciate it."

"whatever you say," noboru grins down at you, "mx sannoh."

— WHITE RASCALS! ♡ ft. kakucho

a white bike pulls up in front of you as rocky steps off. he's got a lollipop in his mouth — blueberry, from the scent — and a nonchalant demeanor as he stands in front of you.

"you're here," you breath. you relax, your forehead resting on his shoulder as you control your breathing. "you got here really fast."

a clink! hits your ears as the lollipop is taken from his mouth. "you were in trouble."

sunglasses sit on the edge of his nose as he scours your surroundings. one hand holds the back of your head, hugging you close to his body. you savor his warmth and the comfort he brings ; the safety he makes you feel. rocky stiffens, his mouth near your ear as he speaks, "found 'em."

"[name]." rocky pulls you closer as your name is called. you turn your face, still hiding in your boyfriend's chest. you see a familiar suit, eyes crawling up until you see an even more familiar man. "may we talk?"

your eyes widen, "mister kakucho! ...were you following me?"

"my apologies," the man sends a half bow your way, "i didn't mean to frighten you."

rocky's chest vibrates with a hum. both of his arms are around your waist, a little more relaxed. still poised to attack if he needed to, though. "so, why are you following my flower?"

kakucho eyes the way you're standing — practically melted into rocky's chest. a small, distant smile curls on his lips before it falls away, back to his neutral expression. "the boss asked me to... check on you."

you face him fully now, your back to rocky's chest. "me? why?"

with a shrug, kakucho looks away nonchalantly. "just as a precaution." he meets rocky's eyes over you, seeing the silent threat in his eyes. he nods rocky's way, "we can talk more at work. get home safe, you two."

it stays silent as kakucho leaves your sight. rocky squeezes your hips, placing a kiss on your temple before backing off. "don't like that boss of yours. seems like a prick."

you snort, "you have no idea."

— OYA KOU! ♡ ft haruchiyo sanzu

it isn't long until murayama is stomping his way towards you. seki and furuya have to almost run to keep up with his hasty pace, failing to keep their serious faces on. you're bombarded with questions almost immediately.

"who is it? where are they? are you being threatened? did they touch you? if so much as a fingernail is broken, i am going to—"

both of your hands clutch onto one of his. a simple, pretty smile is on your face as you look at him. "hi, yoshiki."

"hey, sweet baby," he melts. the duo behind him share a glance as murayama shakes his head, getting focused once more. "i'm being serious. you've never panic-worded before."

pink hair pops up before you know it, a fist swinging murayama's way. in the time that it takes for you to widen your eyes, two bodies are on the ground. seki and furuya stand with you, blocking your body with theirs.

heaving breaths are all you hear until almost identical manic laughs spill from their lips. as the new figure sits up, you blanch. what could you have done for the guard dog himself to be after you? sanzu grins, "you're pretty good."

murayama lets out his own breathy laugh, "haven't had a fight like that in too long."

"boss?" the friendly, sparkling atmosphere is broken by your meek voice. your legs are trembling together, eyes wide and teary. why was bonten after you? "is... is there a problem?"

when sanzu's icy eyes slide to yours, you can't help but wish you never spoke at all. he huffs as he stands, wiping blood from his crooked nose. sanzu clicks his tongue in disappoinment as he stands before you. he says your name three times, "just what have you gotten yourself into?"

"you work for this guy?" murayama is beside you within the next second. his knuckles are worn and bleeding as he clutches your hand in his. "small world."

"boss said to keep an eye on you," sanzu sweeps his striped suit. a diamond encrusted grin is thrown your way — it makes chills run up your spine. "i'll be watching you, [full name]."

sanzu leaves, but your chest still feels crowded, like you can't breathe. you stare with a dead gaze at where he once stood. an arm is slung around your shoulders, heavy breathing echoing into your ear. "that sounded like a threat."

your eyes meet murayama's, "it was."

— RUDE BOYS! ♡ ft. rindou haitani

you're already talking to someone by the time he arrives. sneakily, smoky watches from the rooftop he's perched on as you exchange conversation with the man across from you. lilac hair wasn't something he was used to seeing — the color stood out in nameless.

"yeah," you shrug your work bag further up your shoulder. "that's it, i think."

rindou nods, looking to the ground as he kicks a rock. he goes to speak again but stops at the new figured that has joined you. looming behind you is a man with shaggy hair and a dead look to his eyes.

you tilt your head at rin's silence. you see a flash of green in the corner of your eye. jumping, you step away from the shadowed figure before sighing. "smoky. hi. what did i say about the sneaking thing?"

"sorry," a small flash of a smile greets you. he slides closer, his left pinkie linking into your own. smoky stares at rindou, "who's this?"

"friend from work," you answer before rindou can. a minute shake of your head distracts the purple-haired man. he smirks lightly — you were worried about him beating this frail guy up, right? you eye smoky, "is it jus' you or...?"

he smiles again, "only me. for now."

rindou sighs, scratching the back of his head. he looks at smoky once more before meeting your gaze. "and with that, i'll be off. thanks for the chat, [name]."

as rindou walks off, you lace your fingers through smoky's, leaning onto his shoulder. you let out a yawn, "ready to head home?"

he nods, leading you away. looking back, smoky watches the shadowed figures that follow an unsuspecting rindou. he gives a small nod — they follow their leader's command.

— DARUMA IKKA! ♡ ft. hajime kokonoi

a vibrant, purple car pulls in front of you, music booming from the speakers. hyuga slides off of the hood, standing in front of you meanacingly. he scowls, "problem here, [name]?"

you grin, "no, not now that you're here."

silence and then a snort. hyuga reaches out to pinch the top of your arm before he pulls you close. smoke travels from the pipe he uses, enveloping you in the smell and fog. you narrow your eyes, "that's so unnecessary, norihisa."

his arm wraps around the back of your neck, bringing you close. his mouth brushes against your ear, "whatever you say, baby."

a newer, white car pulls in to your right. the conversation and music pauses, eyes on the figure leaving the vehicle. you straighten up with a widened mouth. "kokonoi? um, is there something you need, sir?"

kokonoi smooths his suit out and tucks his hair back into the low bun it sits in. he greets you with a smile before his eyes fall on hyuga. "i didn't know you knew a hyuga, [name]."

"and how do you know my hyuga?" koko looks at you before tilting his head and smiling tantalizingly. you purse your lips, "right. your gambling problem."

"careful, [name]," kokonoi sticks his tongue out, "i'm still your boss."

you wrap your arms around hyuga's waist, bringing yourself closer to him. half of your face is hidden in his red jacket, barely visible pout on your lips. "we're not in work now, though..."

hyuga kisses the top of your head. "need somethin' from us?"

"just had a little question." koko looks at where you're attaching yourself to hyuga before nodding to himself. "things are starting to make sense now, though."

humming, you frown at your boss-of-sorts. "you're acting shady."

koko grins, closing his eyes with a small laugh. "aren't i always? see you tomorrow, [name]."

hyuga pats your bottom in a pattern as you both watch the white-haired man leave. he honks, flashing his headlights before he leaves. hyuga sucks in air through his teeth, "what a weird guy."

"are you allowed to say that?" a pinch to your butt causes you to squeak. "okay, alright! i take it back."

——♡—— ive decided i love pairing them together <3 but that was a lil obvious beforehand do we like the pairings though?? could’ve changed them but….. if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyorev OR hnl content, let me know! ♡

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 H&L TAGLIST : @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @strxwberrychocolate @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @cheshirecatuniverse

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @night-shadowblood-writes2 @muichirouswifeandhusband

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[novelconcepts]

hi novel! i just saw your yellowjackets and american gods post and you managed to articulate something that's been rattling around in my head since I saw the first episode. I feel like in popular culture, "lost in the wilderness stories" like lord of the flies tend to be viewed as "watch these people become uncivilized." But with the yellowjackets, they're not necessarily becoming uncivilized - they're just creating a new society / culture that has set roles (butcher, acolyte, prophet, etc) and rituals (the card game, the masks, etc.). One of my favorite things has been watching the team slowly develop the customs that will eventually become the well rehearsed hunt we see in 1x01. Like I got really excited seeing Shauna cover her face with the scarf to carve up Javi because I was like "oh is this why the end up wearing the animal masks." To your point, if you built a society from scratch and were isolated in it for almost 2 years because that's the only way you could survive, it's probably very hard to return to the old one which is also essentially new. Blame it on my sociology degree but I fucking love analyzing this show and your meta is amazing.

Yes, this exactly! Like we love to pretend these stories are about the brutalist nature of uncivilized behavior, but that’s not it at all. It’s about finding what works to keep people safe and fed and going. You shed the parts that are just…extraneous, and you learn new skills you’d never need in suburban New Jersey, and it’s all just a shift to a new kind of perspective. It’s so interesting. Especially because we know “civilization�� isn’t that different, in certain ways. It’s just about what society deems palatable. It’s not okay to stab someone who upsets you, but we see in the Taylors, and in the political event Taissa attends, that people will say truly vile things and just paste a smile over it. That sort of behavior gets dropped in the woods because it serves no one. It’s replaced with violence, but both kinds do damage. So we have a bunch of kids who have spent 17-18 years learning the rules of society, and then have to unlearn them in a hurry just to survive. Those who can’t shift their perspective, acclimate to the new rules don’t make it. It’s violent, and it’s devastating, but it does have rules. It’s something I can’t wait to see more of down the road.

[benayoung]

* ❁┆i’m no bad witch

@behyejin:​

{  `❁  } “this looks great to me honestly. i’m pretty content with the lines i got.” it’s the lines she asked for but talking about it amongst each other is best since they are a team for this round. she wonders what eunkyung thinks about it all.

@eunkyungxbe

center material.

it had taken everything in eunkyung to keep her face calm and level, so as not to offend the judges’ evaluation of her performance with her own display of shock and disbelief. in just a handful of days, she’d gone from submitting to a television on a whim, odds narrowed against her, who had never even considered being a performer herself, to being placed in the top five on an idol survival show out of countless auditioning hopefuls.

she has her own tags now, on all the socials she’d perused to get to know her fellow contestants. thank goodness she got that root touch up before the first episode.

of course, scrolling through her own mentions on social media, a notably risky hobby for anyone known to the public, she can’t avoid the instances that her name appears alongside nayoung’s. how quickly eunkyung’s feeds had gone from old nayoung-centered clips to trivial debates about which female contestant was in the wrong, which was prettier, which was more talented. initially, eunkyung had brushed it all off as petty internet drama, faceless strangers hiding behind pixels just to pit women against each other. nayoung had a point, one that had been reiterated by one of the show’s top professionals. perhaps, the way she’d gone about it had been a bit tactless and proud, but it wasn’t anything eunkyung had taken personally. not at the time.

but then eunkyung had watched the episode, felt something inside of her spasm at the sight nayoung, rattling off the flaws of faceless contestants in a harsh, unforgiving tone, one after the other. and if there had been enough content for that small montage of degradation, how much more was there on the cutting room floor? she didn’t care about her own critiques–she’d faced far worse than nayoung in her lifetime–but the way nayoung spoke to others, as if they were all beneath her, as if she had any authority to hurt people for the sake of, what, throwing her weight around? it was far too reminiscent of the girls from school, the ones who made a regular pastime of making their classmates feel small.

eunkyung tries to remain civil and polite when they first meet up as a team, for hyejin’s sake, and for the sake of their performance. but there is a lingering disdain there, just behind her eyes, whenever she glances at nayoung, and a glint of daring, as if challenging her to step out of line again.

then there’s the line distribution, which is a blatant indication of just how little nayoung thinks of her. normally, it wouldn’t bother eunkyung, who has yet to become too emotionally invested in this process or its outcome; yes, the stakes are a little higher for her, now that she’s been told she might have a shot at this, but it’s not enough for her to let a bully off scot-free. sorry hyejin.

she can’t help the drawn out, disappointed scoff that passes through her soft palette as she scans the page again, tilting her head to the side and squinting her eyes.

“this is…” she begins, trying to formulate her impassioned thoughts into words suitable for network television. another scoff, this one through an ironic, sardonic smile.

“nayoung-ssi…” she finally addresses the elephant in the room head on, looking up to look their self-designated leader in the eye, “do you really think so low of me?”

she’s smiling even more now, as if she finds the whole thing bitterly amusing, holding up her copy of the distribution in one hand, “most of my part would be censored like this. do you want me to disappear that badly?”

nayoung flashes hyejin a smile. “okay, great!” she replies, perhaps a little more chipper than typical of her true nature. sure, she’s playing up the enthusiasm, but she is genuinely excited to get a chance to rap properly for the show. granted, it was a rap performance that sent her out on her first survival show, but back then she was incredibly inexperienced. in her time training after that point, she made sure she was able to rap competently too, just in case the company called on her to do so. next gen isn’t her company, but she’s being called on to do it regardless, and she’s thankful she put the work in that she did.

that excitement ebbs a bit when eunkyung speaks up. nayoung honestly doesn’t expect eunkyung to fight her on this. the eunkyung she last encountered was lighthearted and, as she pinned her herself, not taking the competition seriously enough for nayoung’s liking.

to eunkyung’s credit, that seems to be different now. either that or she’s just being difficult to give nayoung a hard time. at first, it’s incredibly irritating. nayoung can’t help the brief moment her face betrays that feeling, before she evens it out, because honestly, this is good for her. eunkyung is testing her. she doesn’t know if that’s the other girl’s entire intention, or she’s genuinely more ambitious than nayoung gave her credit for, but this is a test she intends to pass, and really, she can use this moment in her favor. she had a feeling any test of teamwork wouldn’t go swimmingly for her, but what a perfect opportunity to make eunkyung look like the most unreasonable of the group.

surely, if eunkyung did look up her history on past survival shows, she should know of nayoung’s ability to save face. she hasn’t been trying it this time, opting to show her true colors in favor of spending that energy focusing on her skills instead of being someone she’s not, but she has faith in her ability to turn on politeness and a good nature, however fake it may be. it’s for the sake of the team, after all, and the judges asked her to play nice. she’s just implementing their feedback.

“i do think you have less experience than hyejin and i,” she admits honestly, albeit as level-headedly as she can. that much is true. the rest of the truth is that she doesn’t think eunkyung is very talented outside of her dancing. she doesn’t know what the judges see in her at all, but fine, if eunkyung isn’t satisfied, nayoung will cooperate. maybe how much the judges love eunkyung will help them if she has more lines, or maybe she’ll do a piss poor job, they’ll end up in the bottom group, and then eunkyung will get eliminated for her lack of talent and lack of cooperation. of course, nayoung never wants to lose, but that’s not a terrible outcome.

“but i don’t want you to disappear.” she sort of does, but in the case of their performance, that would be incredibly unprofessional, and that wasn’t even her intention in creating the distribution. “i thought the line distribution was fair, but if you have any suggestions,” nayoung looks down at the sheet of their lines again. she takes her pen and circles two parts–– one of hyejin’s parts, near the middle, including the line i don’t wanna be caught on fire. the other is near the end, with the lines even if it’s hard i’m always the unnie. then, she slides her own lyric sheet toward eunkyung. “the only parts that need to stay the same are these two. hyejin specifically wanted the part that’s circled, and i’m the oldest in the group, so i think it makes sense for me to have this part.” she points to her own part with her pen. “i’m open to changing any other parts. you too, hyejin?” she turns to the other member of the group, because it’s important they have her approval as well, if only for the cameras.

[klauskalgreeves]

Rakata Prime was an unaffiliated planet on the outer rim. Claims had been reported to the GAR that there had been a hostile invasion of separatist forces terrorising the natives, and the Supreme Chancellor had sanctioned that the nearest General and Clone division investigate these claims. Given their close proximity to the planet (being in the Outer Rim at the time) the 212th had been selected to inspect the nature of such allegations. Cody and a squad were sent ahead of time (with great displeasure to all those involved) as Obi-Wan and the rest of the battalion were needed to wind up on a humanitarian mission they were currently engaged in.

They had landed on the planet two days ago, having spent the first few days taking notes of the landscape and designing a battle plan. Rakata prime was a primarily dry planet, with extensive plains of nothing but farmland and rolling trees.

Easy enough to stay discrete if they stuck to the tree line. But with enough space to plant their heavy guns as a second line of defence.

In all it was the kind of planet Cody had seen a hundred times over.

Once he’s briefed the men he gives the order to press forward, standing back and watching as the troopers move out. His initial intention had been to comm his general in the quiet revive and give him a quick update before the fight begins.

This pause allows him to catch two stragglers fall behind.

He frowns, observing from his vantage point as the two figure seems to linger close to the tree line. The cleanliness of their armour is a straight give away that they’re both shinies: as is their demeanour.

From what he can see, one man is tugging at the others shoulder, helmet whipping back and forth in a way Cody knows is more nervous than observational. His partner is crouched on the ground, hand smoothing over something in the dirt.

Once it appears that the two are going to fall behind Cody starts forward, approaching the pair.

They don’t notice him straight away (something he’s going to have to take note of), but now he is closer he can half understand why. The shiny on the ground is fixated and the shiny trying to pull him away is muttering a nervous spiel of regulations, fingers of his spare hand tapping a nervous ‘click click click’ against his thigh plate in a way Cody is surprised the Kaminoan’s didn’t condition out of him.

“Find anything interesting?” He asks, crossing his arms and taking a step back as the pair shoot upwards instantly, fumbling to remove their buckets.

“Commander!”

“Sir! Commander! Sir!”

Both men are now standing at attention in front of him, which gives Cody a better chance to scrutinise them.

As he had initially distinguished, their armour is squeaky clean- not a scratch or battle tell insight. In fact, it’s painfully apparent that the two men haven’t even had the chance to settle onto the negotiator: the colours of the 212th are absent from their helmets.

The lack of time clearly hadn’t deterred the curious trooper from trying, however, given his paint-stained fingertips. A sloppy line of gold has been added to his companion's chest plate, streaky in a way that comes with using fingers instead of a brush. On his own armour, there is a slapdash attempt at what looks like a wave on his shoulder plate: though it’s clearly bled and looks more like he’s leaned against a wet wall.

Cody appreciates their attempts at individuality, though he is less than impressed by their carelessness so thus displayed.

“What’s your name, troopers?”

Gold fingertips answers first. “I’m jitter! Sir! Commander, I mean. My names Jitter.”

Nervous tapper answers second. “Click, Sir.”

‘That makes sense’ Cody thinks, inclining his helmet and purposely looking in the direction the rest of the squad is headed- now out of sight.

“Well Jitters and Click, you must have a good reason to be falling behind on your first campaign. I’d love to hear it, since it was clearly so important.”

Click begins talking before he’s even finished his sentence, fingers tightening into fists and relaxing. It seems the longnecks had tried to curb the habit after all.

“We are so sorry, Commander. We didn’t mean to fall behind; we can only apologise. We’ll join the rest of the men and report to you afterwards for punishment. Again, we're sorry. Come on, Jit.”

But Jitter doesn’t seem so inclined to move. The shiny hesitates, feet shuffling from side to side in a way that isn’t necessarily nervous. In fact, Cody would stipulate that the movements are not born from anxiety, but are a way of whipping up as much dust from the ground as possible.

“It was my fault, sir. Click has nothing to do with it. We’ll be on our way now; I only got distracted by the flowers.”

That pauses his impeding lecture, if only for the sheer irregularity of the sentence.

“The flowers?”

Instead of speaking Jitter produces a small white flower and holds it up in presentation.

“You’ve fallen behind and risked attack for flowers?” Cody asks incredulously, quirking his eyebrow.

Click’s face is now flushed, and Jitter seems at least abashed, ducking his head down to look at the plant in his hand. “I’m aware it sounds bad. It’s just... we’ve never seen one before, sir. I was only curious, see. We’ve been on Kamino this whole time- we didn’t know there was ground that wasn’t hard and that places didn’t rain all day. And I saw the flowers and got distracted. I’ve only ever seen them in a book, once. I didn’t know they were real things. But it's my fault we've fallen behind; Click doesn't deserve to be punished for my mistakes.”

Cody is taken aback, and the lecture he had prepared dies in his throat.

Sometimes he forgets what it’s like to be a shiny leaving Kamino. Perhaps it was different from him- he was CC class, and his training left absolutely no room or time for curiosity. But for many of their men it’s natural to be fascinated by all the little things life offers.

He’s never met anyone spellbound by dirt and flowers, but the innocence and childlike wonder are vaguely endearing.

Cody sighs, switching his gaze between the two until he starts to see them physically squirm before he beckons his head in the direction of the trees. “Hm. Well, Jitter, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time after this campaign to explore the exciting properties of dirt. But right now, you’re needed on the front lines. Move out, troopers.”

This seems to spur both men, and Click begins pushing at his brothers back, casting a thankful look at him.

“Sir, yes, sir,” they reply in tandem, straightening their spines and marching on in the direction the others went in.

Cody takes a moment to watch them, shaking his head fondly under his helmet before he follows behind.

Looks like he’s got another twin pair on his hands. If their anything like Waxer and Boil, he’s looking forward to getting to know them.

———

If Cody thought the battle was bloody, the aftermath was bloodier.

He stands amongst a sea of white plastoid that had once been reverently marked with gold markings- now stained red and splattered with mud.

Around him, the bustling sounds of equipment being packed up is eerily loud compared to the oppressive silence that comes with loss. As always, he feels a weighty sense of responsibility as he looks out at the bodies of his brothers: those he knew personally and those who had only just left Kamino. Death does not discriminate; he understands, but Cody is their Commander, and every battle his men die is another blow to his unwavering resolve.

Sighing heavily he scrubs a hand down his face, allowing a lingering moment to breathe through the brief flare of anger he feels at the fact they cannot recover the bodies and give them the funeral they deserve. Such is the consequence of war, apparently. His only solace is that they will have a remembrance ceremony later to share memories about their brothers who are now marching on.

It’s as he’s walking back to the ship that his attention is snared. To his left are two bodies: one thrown over the other. It is not unusual for some of the vode to defend their ori’vod or batch mate. However, what catches his eye is the unusual armour decoration- a poorly painted chest plate, streaks still visibly even under a layer of grime. His stomach drops instantly and he drops his gaze without much thought to the clone curled underneath, catching sight of painted fingertips curled around a fistful of dirt.

A crushed flower lies just out of reach, yellow this time.

Cody closes his eyes.

Here lies a body of a shiny who had only just stepped foot off Kamino. He didn’t know some places didn’t rain. He hadn’t seen vast planets of grassland; he hadn’t seen the great desert plains and the bustle of city planets like Courscant. He had barely seen any of this universe, and now he never will.

He died in the mud that he had found so fascinating only hours before, along with his brother who radiated nerves and careful consideration.

They were just shinies. They were just kids.

But the Republic don’t see them that way. They’re just soldiers, to them.

They’re nothing but buckets. Feet on the ground. Numbers.

Cody signs again, allowing one last moment to glance at the sad scene. Such is the way of war, he understands. But that doesn’t make it much more manageable.

It never has, and it never will.

He bends down, picking up the crushed flower and places it on Jitters chest plate. Then he straightens his shoulders and moves on, heading back to the ship so they can meet the rest of the 212th at the rendezvous.

——

At remembrance that night, no one comments on the freshly painted flower on his shoulder pad.

No one needs to.

After all, no one understands loss quite like the clones.

They don’t have possessions. They don’t have homes with trinkets and items. Memories are all they have, and dedications are all they can give.

Jitter and Click never got to experience much in their life cycle, but Cody won’t let that be in vain. He’ll live for them.

And from now on, he'll take more time to appreciate the flowers.

[cloveroctobers]

ess! you’re the only black writer i know that writes for fez at this moment. okay i’m not too sure if requests are opened or close but i just saw that they really had made this girl faye stay up with fez yea.. nah. anyway you could write something about how the reader would feel about this? especially if fez being her man she’s over there a lot helping with business shit and just being overall cuddly w/ fez and faye has brought up her distaste for her continual presence to fez before....

i don’t mind — fez x black! reader

A/N: it’s finally here! Also was jamming to my ex husband so that’s the song choice for this one. It all makes sense now zayn and fez/angus? have similar mannerisms to me. This could have been out sooner but tumblr was acting up yesterday so I lost motivation to write since it wouldn’t save what I tried to write!!!! After episode three and seeing the promo for the next?! I just know we’re about to see that shift into the darkness and I’m not sure I’m ready! On a lighter note, Who can really stay mad at fez is the question for this one? Anywho hope you like this *tinashe’s voice* DRA-MAMA

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

In this household it was always great to give each other some space. You, Fez, and Ash were all mixed with different personalities so sometimes you all tended to clash but majority of the time you meshed well. You didn’t live with fez and ash but you might as well with how much time you spent over there. Wise words from your family who still had something to say about your whereabouts since you lived under their roof part time. You hardly had a issue getting comfortable anywhere and anything that was fez’s was basically yours.

Currently you leaned against the counter as you faced the mirror, messing around with a eyelash curler—since inward eyelashes tended to be a real bitch. You scoffed realizing fez was blessed with some nice ass eyelashes and didn’t have this issue. It was a long day and you preferred being at Fez’s than heading home for the weekend so here you were doing your own routine. Since Ash didn’t want to watch some bad reality tv series with you, he left you to do your thing while he tended to the store downstairs, and fez left to grab y’all some grub, which left you with one option:

Catering to yourself.

Skincare? Check.

Re-twisting your locs? Check.

A nicely scented epsom salt bath — after you managed to drag yourself from the couch to the bathroom, you constantly thanked your chiropractor for the suggestion every time you gained extra relief from the bath. Checky check.

You weren’t sure when you dozed off but your phone rattling against the bamboo tray you had situated in front of you was enough to snap you out of dreamland. It was simply a text from your older sis about how your grandfather (who basically got kicked out of his own crib by your Caribbean step-grandmother) was getting on her nerves as he constantly hogged the living room to blast Rick James and Teena Marie. Laughing you encouraged her to hook up with her girls tonight for some freedom, however her on and off again boyfriend was in Houston for the weekend with his side piece—figures (and your dad was down with a bad cold, so she couldn’t just leave the kids with your grandfather. I mean she could if she really wanted to but she didn’t want to traumatize her kids with that man—let’s just say that).

Moisturized body to match your refreshed Dewey skin? Better believe that’s a check!

Wiggling your thighs in the mirror on tiktok to the beat at how good you look refreshed for the night? Check check check.

Your phone buzzed again as you stopped dancing in front of the full-length mirror behind the door. Sighing you reached backwards and suddenly decided against that once you were hit with some soreness from most likely tending to your hair and walked over to the counter instead, “Samira, if you don’t take my niece and nephew somewhere else for the night—

Instead it wasn’t from your aggravated sister. It was a text from ash.

A$H🌚

🚩

Was all it said.

Tilting your head to the side you sent back multiple question marks before placing your phone in your waistband. Just as you did, you heard the front door shut and the sound of thudding coming up the steps which also made you check the time.

“It really took you that long to get Mickey D’s?” You questioned, now walking down the hallway to see a blonde sitting on the steps with a bleeding nose.

Immediately your eyes flicked to fez who stood in the space between the living room and kitchen as if he was a Robert Patterson meme.

“Uh yeah, ran into a situation on my way. Custer needed my help so I scooped up his girl, Faye. She’s gonna be staying here until things coo down.” Fez started as you quirked up a brow at the girl who was basically trying to stop the bleeding with one of her hands and sent a wave your way, “y/n, that’s Faye. Faye this is my girl, y/n.”

Sighing you walked by and snatched some paper towel off the counter, folding it so that it was layered before you popped a squat by her and held it out to her, “here girl. I don’t know what went on tonight but keep your head down, keeping your head back makes it worse.”

Faye took the towel as you walked away from her to take a seat next to fez, crossing one leg over the other, while placing a arm over the top of the chair as you looked at fez who silently began unraveling his sandwich.

“I didn’t do anything.” Faye weakly said but you just shrugged.

It wasn’t your business.

Fez gave out some house rules to Faye who was real quiet this time around but she answered so that fez knew she understood.

“…Want some of my sandwich?” Fez asked her, before he bit into it.

You didn’t even touch your food yet.

“Okay.” You could tell that cheered Faye up some, as fez scrapped the chair back to get a knife.

He cut the sandwich in half before plopping it on a paper plate. He then went over to Faye and handed it to her, who still had her back to you two. Once fez came back to your side, you were still eyeing him before he turned to meet your eyes.

“Why da hell is one your caterpillar brows orange?” He asked before his hungry behind could take a large bite out part of his meal.

Ignoring Fez you sipped at your mocha frappe real slow before you popped your tongue, “hey Faye, I just remembered aren’t you the one who said rue eats my Ginger’s ass for drugs?”

A frown sat in between fez’s brows as he side-eyed faye, “yo, you said that?”

Faye’s eyes went wide before she answered, “I—I don’t remember…Who’s rue again?”

Laughing to yourself you squeezed fez’s shoulder, “I didn’t know that was something you’re into, honey.”

“Don’t start, y/n.” Fez kissed his teeth, giving you a glance since he knew although there was a smile on your face you were a little irritated that he didn’t bother to communicate that y’all were going to have company for whoever knows how long.

Pursing your lips you raised your hands before sitting right to dig into your own food for the night. Faye could sense there was a little tension between you two but it’s not like she cared much with a towel shoved up her nose and bit into her half of a sandwich.

It was Sunday when faye decided to get too comfortable. Ash walked around here as if she didn’t exist in the first place, he had a thing about people invading his space and he definitely felt a way about it, fez didn’t talk much generally but he was one of the ones who made sure she was good with the essentials and as for you? After your debate about her presence in fez’s room the other night, you were cordial with her—she didn’t do much but lay around on the couch, cry about missing Custer, and watch powerpuff girls and riverdale while high.

You were upstairs while Fez, ash, and Faye were downstairs at the shop for majority of the day. It wasn’t until you heard Faye blabbing something to fez as they were making their way into the house.

“He’s not gonna be a problem. We don’t scare easily over here.” Fez answered as he pulled on your arm for you to move so he could sit down.

You leaned you arm across his lap as you turned your attention back to the series on the screen, “something happened down at the store?”

Fez huffed, “Nate’s bitch ass dad slid through not too long after Lexi Howard showed up. Walkin’ around like we were supposed to be scared or sum, Lexi was a little shook tho.”

“Lexi was here?” You asked, “right before mr. Jacobs? He had to be following her, he gives me major predator vibes.”

Fez nodded, “yeah even offered for ash to take her back home but she said she was fine. Waited around for a bit too.”

“Y/n,” Faye interrupted, “did you eat?”

“Yeah? A bacon grilled cheese. Why?”

“Where’s the leftovers for the rest of us?”

You lifted your head to give fez a look who he gently shook his head back and forth as you answered before turning your attention back to the television, “there isn’t any. That was my lunch, y’all were downstairs all day. If you want to cook dinner be my guest.”

“Why would I do that? You’re the one laying around like a housewife, I thought that was your job.” You heard Faye mumble.

It only took seconds for you to shoot up from your spot as you looked over the couch at Faye, who was shoving things aside in the fridge then you replied, “what did you say? Speak up.”

“Nothing.” She innocently said.

Sitting on your knees on the couch, you faced Faye who closed the fridge to place something on the counter.

“I’ve been working on my mental health journey and it seems like you’re trying to disrupt that.” You waved your fingers around in a circle, “Im sensing that you have something you need to get off your chest, so let’s talk about it instead of throwing sneak disses when you think nobody wont hear that shit.”

Faye lifted her shoulders and widened her eyes as she started preparing a sandwich, “that’s good for you. I didn’t mean anything I’m just saying it looks like you’re playing house here. Laying all up on fez while he’s literally working hard and you’re just…Don’t you have a home elsewhere? What are you nineteen? Twenty?”

“Listen,” you breathed just as fez went to rest a freckled arm across the front of your waist to hold you in place, “you’re trying to disrespect me and I don’t like it, so let me check you right quick. Just because your parents tossed you out of the trailer park to fend for yourself doesn’t mean my family did me the same way. I didn’t have a problem with you, I had a problem with your situation. Don’t worry about what the fuck I have going on when you should be worried about that hotel manager you probably murdered.” Your voice was sweet but the tone was definitely menacing.

“Ma, chill.” Fez drawled on while you side-eyed him.

You gave him the hand and rolled your four fingers to press into your thumb, basically to tell him to zip it, since you weren’t done.

Faye scrunched up her swollen lips, “I literally just said I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or whatever. You don’t have to be a bitch and bring up the hotel or my family, okay? I just really miss Custer that’s all.”

“I don’t care, that doesn’t give you a reason to talk shit to me when I didn’t do a damn thing to you. You’re temporary here and if ash and I had things our way you’d be sleeping out back next to the garbage bin.” You jabbed a thumb behind you, “but out of the kindest of my ol’ husband’s heart, you’re here.” You laughed.

Suddenly you heard sniffing as faye began chewing on her bottom lip. She tossed the butter knife on the counter and fled from the scene with a, “fuck you! I’m outta here!”

“Bye!” You waved as she ran down the steps, tripping on the last one on her way out, most likely to go down stairs to vent to the wrong person, Ash.

A smirk was on your lips as you felt eyes burning into you. Of course Fez was looking at you in disappointment.

“Whatchu do all that for?”

“She was talking reckless to me. So she can dish it but can’t take it? Not my fault. Thanks for backing me up by the way.” You plucked his arm from around your waist.

Fez watched as you untangled yourself to straighten out your shorts before you also left the room. Fez groaned as he threw his hands up before pushing off the couch to go after you.

There you were in his room, picking up your things around his room to toss into your open duffel bag you had on his bed.

“So…you’re out too?”

“Hell yeah if you’re gonna pick sides, what do I need to stay for?”

Fez was smug, “‘cause I’m your hardworking husband that’s why.”

You didn’t crack a smile at the joke but a nice middle finger went his way.

“C’mon y/n cut the shit. I’m not picking nobody’s side since it’s really not that deep to begin with. This petty shit is real stupid.” He leaned against the doorway.

You placed your hands on your chest, “so now I’m stupid?”

“Where and when did I say that?” Fez blinked, “stop trying to twist shit and shut up for a minute and let me talk.”

“Shut up?” You repeated, “who do you think you’re talking to? I’m not the faye, the one, or the two.”

Fez rolled his eyes, “didn’t we say we’re going to try to talk things out instead of blowin’ up on each other and disappearing? So put your shit down and talk then.”

“You’re lucky I don’t knock all this shit over and Faye on her ass.” You tossed your last balled up shirt into the bag before sitting on his galaxy comforter, “I already told you fez, I don’t mind any of the shit you’re doing because I like being by your side. Shit, I help take the load off for y’all even when you don’t ask from time to time. All I said was to let me know whatever is about to go down and then you bring her here two days ago and she feels like she can say whatever the fuck she wants to me? Like I’m some useless hoe? She’s confused me with herself.”

Fez sat beside you, “you don’t got to explain that shit to her. I know what you do and why you’re here. I’m deadass just doing this for Custer, you know that. And you know she don’t think too hard before she says shit either. Don’t let that girl get in your head.”

“She’s not! which is why I sent her crying. She thought just because I’m chilling during the weekend that I’m lazy and I don’t have no backbone? We’re out here catching a bag everyday! excuse me if I wanted to spend a couple of days being a bum with my other family. I’m no pussy and she’s lucky I didn’t brush her teeth with one of those bricks outside.” You hissed.

Fez snorted as he latched onto your head bringing it into his chest, “my little ruff rida.”

You rolled your eyes sending a jab into his chest for him to let go of you, “nope you don’t get to hold me, cuddle me, or anything.”

“Whatchu mean? Were we not just havin’ a moment?” He rubbed at his chest.

Getting up you snatched your bag, “I’m still going home.”

“So what? you’re still mad at me?”

“I don’t like her energy and if I stay here any longer with her here? I’m going to catch a case. And like I said I’m working on my mental health so it’s best for me to go. I trust you to act right while I’m gone, Fergus.” You humphed as you reached over for your bag.

Fez hopped off the bed just to jump on you, making you yelp. “You not goin’ nowhere.”

This man was literally sitting on you and tossed your duffle onto the ground with a flick of his wrist, “Fergus, if you don’t get your Clifford the big red dog ass—

You halted as Fez bounced and you wheezed out a laugh, turning your buried face to the side. Fez made himself comfortable sitting on you for who knows how long messing with his phone! and you were sure you were starting to lose feeling in your legs until…he farted on you.

“No you didn’t.”

“Excuse me, My fault.”

Now elbows were flying and fez was barely holding his laughter in as he rolled off you. It was your turn to assault him as you straddled him, whacking him with pillows and attempting to turn this into WWE match. It ended with the both of y’all panting on the floor with bruises to probably match in the morning, small smiles on the both of your faces as you were on your sides. You behind fez, arms weakly wrapped around his throat and head, and legs locked around his waist.

“Just stay, you know if you leave you’re gonna just be FaceTiming me anyways when ashtray don’t give you the update on what’s going on. Stop being difficult.” Fez breathed, resting his head back against your chest.

“I need more clothes.”

“I’ll wash em. Or go buy yourself some, I always got what you need.” Fez suggested, digging into his pocket for his stack of cash.

You snorted, “the sugardaddy and the housewife strikes again.”

“Oh you can joke about it but I can’t—whatever, yo.”

You raked your nails against fez’s scalp before lowering your legs and then your arms. Shuffling your body, you now lay on your back as fez sat up now watching you, “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll stay…after I pop in on my grandad since you know how he feels about a ‘white gangster dating his favorite grandchild—‘

“I already told your pop-pop that he look just like Denzel Washington and I don’t want no parts on being on his bad side.” Fez commented making you laugh.

“You’re more worried about a dude in his late sixties than my dad who’s in his early forties?” You peered at Fez underneath your frustrating lashes.

Fez blinked, “hell yeah. The worse your dad could do is play the piano until my ears bleed like he’s Jamie foxx or some shit. Plus he’s always down with his weak ass immune system. So I’ll bet on your pop-pop taking me out more than anything.”

“Anyways,” you sucked air in between your teeth, “I’ll stay but you’re not getting any affection from me until the blow up doll gets kicked to the curb.”

“What? You buggin’.”

Fez wasn’t the most affectionate during the daily. Touch wasn’t the highest on his love language but he did enjoy it late at night with you beside him in bed, he couldn’t lie about that. Quality time was top of the list for him but now you’re here handing out ultimatums over him doing a favor for someone he occasionally did business with? That was foul.

“I think I’ll go see my pop-pop now.” You pushed up from your laying position, “let’s see how much you miss me, I might not come back.”

“Which is why I got your duffle bag with one of your favorite fits in there and you ain’t getting it back.” Fez proposed a stare off, daring you to touch the bag.

“I’ll fight you again, if I have to.”

Fez raised his brows, “I’m forreal dating a grandma, you were just crying about your back spasm a few minutes ago. You sure you wanna do that again, rida?”

Huffing you put your back to Fez and bent over, confusion was written on fez’s face—although he didn’t mind the view—that was quickly erased the minute you let it rip.

“The fuck?”

You laughed, “does it smell like hydrangeas?” You twerked your ass as fez took his large palm back and gave you a nice smack to your backside.

You shot up at the stinging sensation like a looney tunes character and whipped around to face him as he smirked at you getting ready to lit up his blunt. You rubbed at your now sore ass frowning at him, “I was just giving you a taste of your own medicine from earlier but now you want to be violent?”

“Come sit, I’ll make it better.” Amusement washed over his pretty eyes.

Dirty flashbacks tempted to enter your brain but you clenched your eyes shut before wagging a finger down at the smirking redhead. “Nope. I know your tricks Fergus and I won’t be tainted! My rules still apply.”

“Fine.” He laid back on the carpet as you moved around the room to find your shoes, a jacket, and your keys, “…I’ll miss you and your surprisingly non-smelly farts.”

“Yeah yeah, love you too. See you later.” You nudged his ankle with your foot on your way out.

As you went by the door he added, “and I’ll talk to faye.”

You knew he would, which brought another grin to your lips as you made your exit. Fez listened to you go since he couldn’t exactly see you from his position and exhaled with a roll of his head back and forth as he played what happened back in his head.

Letting out a low chuckle to himself, he realized you were the real deal no matter how dramatic you tended to be at times…don’t get that twisted! he didn’t like to invalidate your feelings or whatever—you could be a lot to handle but he didn’t mind. You were his and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t yours too.

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scene 1-4

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2- Aerith Scenes 1 - 4

A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter)

Scene 1

Aerith Gainsborough was on Shinra Ferry No. 8, and like her friends, she was wearing a Shinra's military uniform. It was her first time on the sea, as well as on a ship. The ferry connecting Junon and Costa De Sol was unexpectedly lavish. Enticed by curiosity, she looked around the ferry. However, the wealthy passengers were not welcoming towards troopers. Driven away by the cold stares, she arrived at the bottom ferry's cargo hold. The goods and luggage were all over the place. Someone was already there.

"Hey, I heard this on the deck a while ago..."

It was Tifa Lockhart, clad in Shinra's equipment. One won't expect it based on her tender smile, but she's an excellent martial artist. She is a reliable companion, equipped with her unstoppable punches, diverse kicks and jumping power. It hasn't been long since they met. However, Aerith believed that the bonds that were fostered by overcoming critical situations were genuine.

"When you feel that you're becoming seasick, it seems that it's good to chat as a distraction."

"I see. Tifa, are you feeling sick?"

"Nahhh, I'm good."

"Me, too."

The conversation ended there. Soon after, Aerith noticed that Tifa wanted to speak. She's reserved at times.

"You wanna talk? Let's talk."

"I'd like to hear about you this time."

"Me?"

"I'm a good listener. You see, I am always doing so at the bar."

She straightened her posture and pretended to polish a glass.

"Hello, it's your first time here, isn't it. Where are you from?"

"Wow."

Aerith was in admiration.

"Do you live around here?"

"Nope. I live in the slums of Sector 5."

"I see. Sector 5 seems pretty lively too. Were you born there too?"

"Well...." Aerith hesitates to say. "It's probably hard to explain."

Tifa immediately sensed it. She had already spoken about her being an Ancient and about her being the last surviving one.

"Sorry, I've gone too far."

"Oh, not at all." Aerith denies it immediately.

"I was just a little taken back. There isn't anyone who says that they want to hear it, nor is there anyone I thought of telling. Well, you wanna hear it? You wanna hear it?"

"If it's alright with you."

"I'm good! I'm good!"

Scene 2

Ifalna, Aerith's mother, was the final pure-blooded descendant of the Ancients as both of her parents were Ancients. She was under the protection of Shinra. To collaborate with the various studies concerning the Ancients, she lived on the upper floors of the Shinra building for a long time. Except for having the freedom to go outside, she had a room that provided almost everything. Aerith lived with her mother, but she couldn't remember the day when she first entered that room. Her first memory was in that room too. As everyone around was adults, the only person she could call a friend was Ronnie, the son of Ifalna's caretaker, Mariel, who brought him along. He was two years older than her.

It was the year 1992. Aerith was seven years old. Her head was suddenly flooded with images. She saw not only landscapes and people that she had never seen before, but also the figures of animals and monsters too. Aerith's Ancient powers were awakened. The inexperienced Aerith could not only control these images, but she also could not ignore them. She painted on papers, painted on the walls and showed it to anyone who wanted to see them. She thought that by doing so, these mysterious "visions" would disappear.

Scene 3

"I understand now that up till then, I was a hostage, and to protect me, my mother had no choice but to obey Hojo. But because Hojo also knew that I inherited the powers of the Ancients, he was overjoyed. Because he discovered a successor, he started doing terrible things to my mother, which he hadn't done until then. And just like that, my mother's health began to break down..."

Scene 4

Because of Hojo and his fellow staff, Ifalna's “working” hours increased. She was made to work for Hojo's studies every day from morning till evening. She was weak every day, and she could not walk on her own. There were also times when Hojo's staff pushed her back into the room in a wheelchair. At that time, Fuzz Hicks appeared and was dressed in a lab coat. Out of all the staff that Aerith knew, Fuzz had the largest physique. His eyes, nose and mouth were huge too. He was a very trustworthy figure who easily carried Ifalna with his massive arms. 

When Fuzz came over, Ifalna begged him for medicine. She had a sad, sweet voice. Aerith did not say anything, but she did not like her mother whenever she made that kind of voice. She wanted her to be cured soon if she was ill.

“Fuzz, please…”

Aerith was almost sure that Fuzz knew it. He turned his back against the surveillance camera. He left a small bottle of medicine and a syringe, reminding her to keep it a secret from the other staff, and then he left. Ifalna used it on herself. Aerith could not see her mother sticking the needle in her arm, usually hiding in the sofa's shadow. 

Aerith has little memory of the calendar dates of events regarding her childhood. It was one night when she was seven years old. She snuggled under her mother's bed as usual. It was a habit she had since she knew she was being monitored. She covered herself entirely with a blanket.

"Aerith. Want to go on an adventure?" Ifalna whispered from the other side of the blanket.

“What will we be doing?” She had a longing and a fear towards the outside world.

"I miss it."

Aerith did not understand what her mother was feeling. However, she sensed that tears were mixed in with her voice. 

Aerith did not want to see her mother's face and got out from her blanket. Ifalna covered her face with her arm. The sleeves of her loose sleepwear were turned inside out. She had plenty of painful injection marks.

"If we head out, will you be okay, Mummy? You’re not going to take any more injections?"

“Yes. I think that will be so.”

"Well, let's go. But, I wonder if we can do it. The cameras are watching."

"Fuzz will help us out."

"Why will Fuzz help us out?"

There was a brief pause.

"Because he's a good person"

↞↠

Ifalna was taken out of the room as usual and returned in the evening. Fuzz was pushing the wheelchair.

"Yo Aerith," said Fuzz with his deep voice.

"The preparations are in order. I have prepared a secret house in the Sector 3 slums. You will also have a room. It's small, but we'll be leaving here."

He only told her that, and he left the room.

The emergency bell rang in the morning. Hurried by Ifalna, Aerith changed her clothes. It was clothes she had never seen before.

"Fuzz prepared these for us," Ifalna informed as she also wore her new clothes.

"Let's go."

"We will be seen."

"Don’t think like that."

Ifalna opened the door.

"It can't be. The lock is open. Why?"

The mother did not reply, took a deep breath and dashed out to the corridor. There was not a single person there. The bell signalling a crisis rang into their ears. 

"Experimental monsters are on the loose. Staff from the Science Department evacuate to a safe location," the public announcement monotonously announced.

"That's rough."

Aerith was frightened. However, Ifalna ascertained the direction and walked. She was hobbling. Her condition was good only when she opened the door. Aerith took her hand and kept up with her.

They turned at the first corner of the corridor. No staff were seen, and there were also no signs of wandering monsters. Ifalna rushed over to a wagon carrying cleaning tools; a large metal box attached with tiny wheels, with a long brush and mop, stuck into it. She slid her hand on the side of the wagon, and a part slid open. It was empty. There were supposed to be various cleaning agents and tools in there. The shelves and dividers were also removed. 

"We will be hiding in here. I'll head in first."

Ifalna bent her body and slipped into the box.

"Come, Aerith."

Invited by her voice, Aerith went inside. Ifalna pulled her knees towards herself to make space for her daughter. The petite Aerith quickly got in.

"We are going to be here for some time, so find yourself a comfortable position."

"Okay. This position is good."

"Got it."

After Ifalna closed the door, the wagon became pitch black. The public announcement remained unchanged and announced the experimental monsters’ escape. Before long, there was an indication that someone was nearby. The wagon vibrated lightly.

"It's me."

"I'm leaving it to you, Fuzz."

"We'll get going."

The wagon started to run.

"No matter what happens, do not make any noise."

"I'll be making a turn."

"It's an elevator. We will be transferring elevators several times."

From time to time, Fuzz could be heard. While in the elevator, Aerith became nauseous.

"Mummy, I don't feel good."

"It will be over soon."

When the free-falling feeling with the wagon was over, it started running again. As Fuzz mentioned, he will be transferring elevators several times.

"We're in a parking lot."

A different and unpleasant odour, unlike before, crept into the wagon.

"I'll be stopping soon. There'll be a truck, so hurry up and hop onto its cargo bed. I'll assist the both of you."

There was likely a change in the ground surface. A rattling sound came out from the wagon as it ran. The wagon soon stopped, and the door came open.

"Well then, hurry on."

Aerith was pulled out by the large hand that went into the wagon. He held Aerith up and placed her on the cargo bed as though she was an object.

"Move inside," Fuzz said as he also lightly placed Ifalna on the cargo bed.

"There are a few wooden crates. The innermost one is empty, so hide in it. Don't forget to close the lid. My cousin will be driving the truck. After arriving at the train station, the crate will be loaded onto the freight carrier. The cargo will eventually arrive at the Sector 4 slums station, so wait for me there."

"In the box?" Ifalna asked.

"Nope. I think you both will end up waiting for me somewhere at the station. I have a friend there, so follow her instructions. I've written the details in this letter," Fuzz said as he folded the paper and passed it to Ifalna.

"Where are you going, Fuzz?" Aerith asked.

"I'm heading back up to pretend to search for the both of you. If I get caught, it's going to cost me more than my neck."

The car horn sounded, and feelings of anxiety rushed in.

"Well, later then. There is food and water in the crate."

"How long do we have to wait for you to come?"

"At worst, till the last train," Fuzz said as he kissed the back of Ifalna's hand. Aerith was surprised and looked at Fuzz and her mother one after another.

"Fuzz, thank you."

The truck moved off before Ifalna could finish her words.

↞↠

The mother and daughter crawled on all fours on the swaying cargo bed and moved to the back. There were five wooden crates, one size larger than the cleaning tool wagon. After Ifalna found the empty box, she opened the lid and placed Aerith inside.

"Smelly..."

After leaving the room, they smelled various odours, but this was unbearable.

"Endure endure. We'll get used to it soon," Ifalna uttered as she also entered the crate. 

Aerith did not overlook the frown on Ifalna's face.

"You think it stinks too, Mummy!"

Ifalna stuck out her tongue, and after gazing at each other, they laughed.

Aerith noticed the paper bag at the bottom of the crate. There was also a portable torchlight, a pouch of dried fruits and nuts, a hard bread and a water bottle when she looked inside it. There was a thin envelope, so she peeked inside and found that there was money in it.

"I have to close the lid."

After struggling to close the lid, the crate went pitch black.

"Next, uh ... let's read the letter."

In the dark, there was a dry sound of Ifalna unfolding the paper.

"Aerith, may you shine at this for me?"

"Okay."

She had difficulty operating it, but Aerith found the switch and turned on the torchlight. In the cutout of the darkness, her mother's pale face was there, and sweat was oozing out from her forehead.

"Mummy, are you alright?"

"I'll be reading it, so remember this too, Aerith."

It seems that she does not intend to reply to her question.

"Okay."

“The plate on which the Shinra Building is built and the slums are connected by rail. This crate will be carried into the freight train as it is. After the train runs for a while, the inside of the crate will glow red, and it will be glowing several times. But you don't have to worry about it, and do not mind it."

“What does this mean?”

"Fuzz... He thinks I don't know anything, and he is right about that."

"I'm scared."

"He wrote not to worry, let's believe him."

"Okay..."

"After a while, you will realise that the railroad tracks will be running on ground level rather than at a descent. You will soon hear the train stoppage announcement. Once you hear it, get out of the box. Next, stand by the doorway at the width of the carriage. The last stop is the Sector 4 Slums Station. The door will open when you arrive. Give the money in the envelope to the person who opened the door. It's a reward. Rest assured that she is a friend of mine, and follow her instructions and wait until I pick you both up..."

Ifalna violently coughed before she could read it to the end. It was a long-lasting cough. She turned her head away and covered her mouth with her arm.

"The light... turn it off..." Ifalna said so and violently coughed again.

↞↠

The truck eventually came to a stop. The truck bed shook, along with the rattling sound of the cargo hitting each other. They sensed people in the vicinity. The unloading began. The handling work was rough, and the crate was even thrown down to its' side.The mother and child endured through the shaking and pain in the crate. Ifalna embraced Aerith in her arms and held her daughter's leaking voice with her palm. 

"We got to press on."

Silence came. They were relieved in that brief moment, then the loading operation on the freight train started.

"This is going to the Sector 4 Slums."

After hearing the muffled voice of a man, the box started to move. Again, the crate was handled recklessly. They used their hands, feet, and back to anchor their bodies down and clenched their teeth.

Shortly after that, the loading came to an end. There was a heavy, loud sound as the freight car door closed. After the train started running, it began to make a periodically repeating rattling noise. Eventually, the rhythmic sound becomes pleasant. Aerith dozed off and was half asleep. She woke up suddenly and looked at her mother's face. Ifalna's profile, dimly lit by the torch that was left on, was as beautiful as usual. In her line of sight, she noticed Ifalna smiling. Aerith was relieved, and she closed her eyes again. She finally slept.

In her dream, Aerith was painting.

When she woke up, Ifalna was coughing violently again.

"Are you alright, Mummy?"

"Yup... Give me a moment," 

Her voice got hoarse. Soon after adjusting her breathing —

"It looks like the descent stopped some time ago. The red lights are over too, so perhaps we'll be arriving soon?

"Ehhhh!? I wanted to see the red lights!"

"You said you were scared of it."

Ifalna laughed.

"I want to see it even if I'm scared."

At that moment, the inside of the crate was tainted red. The two were surprised and looked at each other.

"It turned red!"

"Yup! It turned red."

"I wasn't scared at all."

"Hey, Aerith. Let's eat something. We don't know when we'll be able to eat next."

Ifalna tore up the bread in the bag into pieces, handed it to Aerith, and ripped open the pouch of dried fruits.

"I wonder if this is like a picnic."

Aerith stuck the bread on her cheek.

"What's a picnic?" Ifalna asked. 

After Aerith swallowed the bread —

"I heard from Ronnie. People would take along food, head out, walk a lot and eat. It seems that they don't eat anything sometimes. But Ronnie has never been to one before."

"Hmm. I really don't know, but walking seems to be fun."

Under the dim light shone from the portable torchlight placed on the floor, Ifalna offered her the remaining bread.

"Aren't you eating, Mummy?"

"I've already eaten. I ate it while you were sleeping with your mouth open."

She thought it was a lie. However, Aerith inflated her cheeks and showed her anger.

The train slowed down, and Ifalna coughed violently again.  She shook her shoulders violently to hold down the cough.

"I'm really okay."

"Alright."

Aerith felt even more worried as she was reminded again that her mother was ok.

"Next station,... Four Slums. Sector Fo... lums," a muffled voice could be heard. It's the train stoppage announcement.

"Let's get out of the crate, shall we?"

They flipped the lid up. Ifalna comes out first and pulls Aerith up. Although the train was slowing down, the train carriage was rattling and shaking. 

"This is fun!"

Aerith planted both her feet down to keep her balance. Ifalna held on to the crate to support herself.

“Aerith”

“Yup.”

“Never forget that feeling, okay?”

“Which feeling?”

“The feeling that you’ll enjoy anything.”

“Hmmm, I understand.”

“Hey hey, Aerith, look at this.” Ifalna pointed to the label on the crate which they were in.

"What's written on it?"

"From Shinra Company to Shinra Company. To be stored at Sector 4 Station. Dangerous goods. It is strictly prohibited to open it en-route..."

"We are dangerous goods?"

"That's rude."

Ifalna laughed, and the train slowed down again to a stop. Aerith lost her balance and clung to her mother as she almost fell over. 

"Stay silent for a moment, Aerith. Leave this to me."

She looked up at her mother to see what she meant. She wasn't smiling anymore.

It was a young woman who opened the door. She had a pouty face and wore loose-fitting overalls. Her whole body was covered in dirt.

"Are you a friend of Fuzz?" Ifalna asked.

She nodded her head.

"Here you go. It's the reward."

Ifalna held out the envelope.

"I told him I didn't need it..."

“But…”

In the end, the lady snatched the envelope and pushed it into her back pocket.

"Get off. Quickly."

The carriage floor was well above the ground, a height that anyone would need help with. However, the lady was keeping watch of the surrounding people.

"Okay. I'll head down first."

Ifalna disappeared from Aerith's line of sight as she had jumped off. A painful moan could be heard.

"Mummy!"

"Hurry up," the lady's sharp voice pierced through their ears.

Ifalna apologised as she stood up, looking back at Aerith and reached out to her with both hands. Aerith was worried whether the woman in dirty clothing would get angry again, so she hurriedly jumped on her mother's body.That force caused Ifalna to stumble. She almost fell over while holding onto Aerith but managed to get her balance after taking a few steps.

"It's already chaotic at the top. Hide in the container yard until Fuzz picks you up," The woman pointed to a place stacked up with a lot of containers. 

"When the sun sets, consignees will enter and exit the yard, so don't be discovered. That would be a pain."

"How much longer until the sun goes down?" Ifalna asked.

"In about four hours."

The woman tried to leave, but Ifalna called out to stop her and asked, "Which direction is Sector 3 in?"

The woman pointed out the direction with her chin, and as though she was escaping from them, she headed back to work.

"Mummy, let's hide quickly?"

"Yup. Let's do so."

The woman looked back once she reached the end of the train carriage and pointed towards the container yard. She was probably telling them to head over quickly.

"Aerith."

Ifalna held out her hand.

"From here on out, it's a real adventure. Let's go."

Ifalna held Aerith's hand.

"Mummy, why is your hand hot?"

"It's because I'm excited."

Ifalna laughed, and they started walking towards the rear of the carriage they had just got off. The carriage they were riding on was at the end. When they went around the carriage and crossed over the rail, they could see the station building. The woman from earlier disappeared into the station building. They saw some others in uniforms that looked like railway workers.

"Mummy, where are we going!?"

Aerith was extremely worried. However, her mother did not say a word. Instead, she held her hand firmly and started walking. They headed towards the wire mesh fence that was directly in front of them. There were a lot of people coming and going on the road over there.

"Mum!?"

"Let's climb over this fence."

"Ehhhh?"

The fence was about two metres tall.

"I can't."

"But we have to. Otherwise the adventure will be over."

In the end, they clung to the fence.

"Well, let's have fun!" Ifalna uttered.

Passers-by across the wired fence saw them, but nobody stopped walking.

"First, grab a high spot on the wired fence with both hands, and then put the toes of your left foot into the wired fence."

"Ohhh."

Aerith was confused, but she managed to be in the same position as her mother.

“Next, apply some strength to your hands and put your right toe into the fence.”

“Okay.”

"Once you can do that, move your right hand to grab the fence higher up. Then, also move your left hand to grab at the same height."

"Ah, I got it! Next will be my legs."

Aerith felt that she understood how to climb the wired fence.

"Mummy, look!"

While making a rattling noise, she climbed the fence in a blink of an eye.

"Nicely done, Aerith. Now from there, climb over."

"Hey! Get down from there!" came a piercing, angry voice.

Aerith saw a station employee running over.

"Mummy!"

Ifalna saw the station employee.

"Aerith, quickly get going!"

"You too, Mummy!"

Ifalna started climbing the wired fence. She was frustratingly slow.

"Hey!"

The station employee was getting close. The scene gathered the eyes of passers-by. At that moment...

"Hey! Hurry up!"

They looked over. A tall adult male was reaching out his hand. Aerith was confused. He was probably an acquaintance of her mother, but that should not be the case.

"Hey! Let's go!"

Before Aerith knew it, Ifalna got up to the same height and got over the fence. The station staff extended his hand out, but he barely could not reach her. Finally, Ifalna got over to the other side, reached out and grabbed the chest area of Aerith's clothes and pulled firmly. Aerith could not help but lose her balance and almost fell headfirst outwards of the fence. However, a pair of solid hands supported Aerith.

"You alright?" the man asked Ifalna while lowering Aerith to the ground. 

However, Ifalna was coughing harshly and could not answer.

"Riding without a ticket is a serious crime!"

The station employee also started to climb the fence.

"It’s a serious crime which too many people commit, and you can't catch those culprits."

"Thank... you," Ifalna finally answered.

"You're welcome."

The man then struck the fingers of the station employee, who was grabbing the wired fence, with his fist. The station staff screamed away from the wired fence.

"Shinra bastard, damn y'all!"

After hailing abuse at the station employee, the man walked away as if nothing had happened. The station employee was panting heavily and glared at the man.

"Which direction is Sector 3 in?" Ifalna abruptly asked the station employee.

Not only the station employee but Aerith was also surprised at this.

"Who would teach you!" the station employee's angry voice froze Aerith's legs.

"Very well. Pardon us for our rudeness." Ifalna calmly apologised to the station employee 

She then took Aerith's hand and left the station. When they looked back, the station employee was glaring at them. However, he was soon hidden in the flow of passers-by.

"Ahhh, that was heart-wrenching."

Ifalna coughed. When Aerith looked up, she saw the radiant face of her mother.

↞↠

There was no sign of anyone chasing them. The mother and daughter were moving away from the Sector Four Slums Station. Looking up, they could see the underside of the steel city. They were overwhelmed by the orderly combination of the steel-framed plate. Many people lived on it, there was the Shinra Building, and they were way high up on it. The scale was too large for Aerith to picture it well.

"Aerith, if you just look up, you'll fall."

"Okay."

Indeed,  none of the surrounding commuters were looking up. It's a natural sight for slum dwellers. From time to time, Aerith could hear mysterious noises. She could also hear angry voices. And as expected, nobody cares.

"Mummy, who was the person that helped us at the station?"

"I think he's someone who hates Shinra. It seems that there are many of these kinds of people in the slums."

"How do you know about the slum, Mummy?"

"I asked a lot of people. For a day like this."

"Even on how to climb a wired fence?"

"Yup. If Professor Hojo weren't around, everyone would talk to me a lot."

"Actually, everyone is a nice person."

"I wonder. Everyone sympathised and cared for me, but no one helped me out. The truly good people are those that not only say that they'll help but also act on it."

"I wonder what Fuzz is doing."

Aerith waited for a while, but her mother didn't answer.

"Hey, Aerith, I want to rest for a bit. Shall we go over there?"

Ifalna pointed towards a small plaza in front of them. They saw several benches.

↞↠ You’re on page 24/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel.  Next Scenes: Scenes 5-9 Back to Content Page (click/tap here)

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[vizowrites]

OOOH I GOT A GOOD BLITZSTRIKE IDEA FROM EPISODE 6!! So you know that blitz had a I'm assuming was a illusion with poorly drawn moxxie and striker, etc yea that but striker just came to save the day! Da da daaaaaa (I am morning drunk-)

I made a post about just how badly I needed this exact thing in my life so THANK YOU SO MUCH for sending it to meeeeeeeeeee!! <3 <3

Now normally I'm all for the AU idea of Striker joining I.M.P. and just kind of automatically jumping in as an official member of their unofficial family, but I have to say for this.....I actually kind of like it better if I stick more to the canon here. Striker's not a member of I.M.P., he's still got his angel weaponry and the bounty on Stolas's head to settle after the mishap at the Harvest Moon Festival, and--most importantly--hasn't crossed paths with Blitz [or any of the others for that matter] since.

He hadn't been expecting it to happen when it did that night, either.

There wasn't much on Striker's mind other than his target as he slithered his way through the servant's quarters entrance of Stolas's manor house, entirely uncaring of the numerous cameras and other security features that he passed along the way. He had it on good faith that they would just happen to be disabled that night--a pissed off royal birdie had told him so. He'd also been told exactly how to navigate his way through the house undetected, exactly which rooms to avoid, and exactly where he would find the "cheating prick" at this hour. What he hadn't been told--and what he'd deliberately chosen not to ask--was just what the Goetian Prince would be doing by the time he made his soundless entry into his study. There was a small part of him, somewhere deeper than he usually cared to try to reach, that couldn't help but think of a certain impressive imp Boss that might be involved. There was an even deeper part of him, though, that felt the sharp sting of conflict as he found he couldn't make up his mind on whether he was hoping to see said impressive imp Boss there or not, considering what he would probably be doing.

His tail unconsciously flicked once, causing Striker to coil it tightly around himself in order to prevent what would have become a full blown rattle otherwise. This was ridiculous. He was here for one thing and one thing only: he had a job to do.

A job he was fully intending to enjoy.

A slow grin spread across his face as he shrugged the strap of his angelic rifle down from his shoulder, catching the weapon effortlessly and feeling the warm sting of its power against his fingertips. He really was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself as he silently crept into the study, taking advantage of the many outrageously sized pieces of furniture casting shadows around the room to stay hidden.

Just one shot. He just needed one shot.

The flickering glow of what he presumed to be firelight seemed to beckon him, encouraging him, and before he knew it he had the butt of the rifle pressed firmly into his shoulder and his right hand hovering just beside the trigger--ready and waiting to take aim and fire. All he needed was one glance now, just enough to see where exactly Stolas was in the room, and then it would be over. The fact that he couldn't hear the owl demon moaning in ecstasy strangely pleased him at his core, confirming that he in fact wasn't enjoying the company of his favorite plaything tonight. Good. It meant he didn't need to spare a second thought for who else might get caught in the crossfire. Anyone else honestly wouldn't matter.

.....He tried to distract himself from thinking about that thought too deeply by finally taking his glance, trying to focus back on the one who didn't matter to him at all.

Instead, he found himself looking straight at the one being that did.

"Blitz--" The half-whisper caught in the back of his throat, thankfully stiffling the majority of the sound as Striker's eyes went wide. He didn't know how the hell Stolas was doing this--he didn't know this was something the Ars Goetia could do--but somehow, in the middle of what he'd previously thought was just a fireplace casting the twisting forms of light and darkness across the room, was a strange mirror-like orb that seemed to be reflecting an image to the Prince sitting across from it in one of his high-backed chairs.

An image of Blitz, tied to a much smaller chair, struggling as some strange green something started to pool beneath his feet.

What the flying fuck was happening?

"Oh darling, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Stolas cooed from across the room, completely oblivious to the hitman staring at him as he watched the scene unfold before him as if it was his favorite daytime drama. "Let's be extra careful about what we say from here on out, shall we? You're not going to be very happy with me if I have to come down there and take my book back from your charming daughter. Especially since that's going to delay her rescuing of you by quite a bit."

Striker didn't know what to do. There was a part of him that felt the unmistakable urge to just raise his weapon and fire, to carry on with the plan just as he'd intended and figure out the rest from there. But there was that other, deeper, part of him that had frozen, leaving him unable to look at or think about anything other than the imp that was now spilling his guts out in whatever room he was in as easily as if he'd just been sliced open.

And the vermin was there with him--apparently tripping balls as he slumped into his own chair and started mumbling incoherently.

Perfect.

"Now just what is happening here?" Stolas murmured, his voice catching Striker's attention--that urge flaring up in him again, and yet, before he could think about whether or not to actually take aim at him, he instead watched as Stolas lifted his hand from beneath his chin and gave a little wave over the orb. The image within shifted, rippling as if it were made of water, and when it finally settled again it was of something new:

Moxxie, now freed from his bonds, making his way up a marble staircase lined with candelabras towards a cape-wearing Blitz playing piano.....and they were both singing.

What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening??

"Ooohh my," Stolas chuckled delicately from behind his curved fingers, amusement sparking in his glowing crimson eyes as he watched the scene unfold. "Your little underling here has quite the imagination now, doesn't he? Well if his truth is this entertaining--" He lifted his hand once more, his fingertips hovering over the unnaturally glowing scene. "--I really must see yours now, Blitzy."

Don't--

Striker didn't know why he felt such a sudden surge of protectiveness for Blitz's privacy of all things in that moment, but seeing the image ripple again as it began to change had him biting his lip hard enough that he could feel it start to bleed. Just what the fuck was this asshole doing? Did he just get himself off to spying on Blitz like this?? At times when he's clearly in trouble and needing help that isn't prying into his drug-induced hallucinations??

If he'd been a better person, he would have killed Stolas then and there just to make this stop. But since he wasn't, his curiosity stilled his hands for another few moments as the window into Blitz's vison settled into view.

He didn't like any part of what he saw.

The memory of himself referring to Blitz as a "rodeo clown of a boss" came back to him with the viciousness of a bite, causing him to tense as he watched as Blitz--stumbling around in a clown costume--started getting tormented by voices and swirling figureless masses of color. The first to solidify was Moxxie, spewing bullshit that honestly Striker could barely care to keep up with, except for the fact that it was so obviously berrating Blitz for.....something. Just what the hell did Blitz care what that little baby dick had to say? He knew he was better than that.

.....Didn't he?

Striker felt his grip on the rifle loosening as he sank back fully onto the floor, his pale eyes glinting and his tail starting to vibrate hard against his shirt. He tried to muster up every ounce of his self control, willing it to stop before the rattling sound tipped off Stolas--only for his tail to go utterly still as something very similar lashed its way around Blitz's throat and threw him to the ground.

And there he was, staring at himself.

"But you don't want to do things alone Blitzo!"

Hearing himself--not himself, that wasn't even his fucking voice--say that made his blood run cold with rage. How fucking dare whoever was doing this impersonate him like this! Using him to torment Blitz like this! And Blitz was seemingly actually buying it--wait, Stolas had called this Blitz’s “truth”.  Did this mean.....was this what Blitz thought of him?? What the fuck!? Since when the hell did Blitz ever hear Striker call him "Blitzo" once before in his life?? Never! He wanted to grab Blitz by the shoulders and shake him, screaming right into his face that he would never say his name like that when he knows damn well that the O is silent! Okay, so he might’ve called him “Blitzy” when they parted ways because he was bitter over Blitz choosing to stop him from killing Stolas instead of running off with him to take down Overlords--and that was his bad.  And yeah, he might've been trying to get on his good side to have an easier shot at killing Stolas, sure, but...that didn't mean that the things he'd said to Blitz weren't true! He really did want to be partners!

The scene changed again, another set of stairs, and Blitz frantically climbing up them to try and escape the figures that were literally haunting him--Striker feeling that cold burn spread in his chest at the sight of being one of them.

Though nothing could have prepared him for the tidal wave of feeling that would crash over him in the moment he saw just who was waiting for Blitz at the top of those stairs.

Stolas.

You Daddy Fucker.

"Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?"

Striker's fingers clenched so hard around his rifle that he thought he was going to snap it in two, his pale gold-green eyes fixed on the sight of Blitz crawling on his hands and knees up that glowing staircase, as golden chains fastened around each of his wrists and around his neck. The rest of the voices were lost to the roar of whitenoise now ringing in Striker's ears as he watched Stolas pull Blitz willingly onto his lap, holding him by that chain attached to the collar at his throat.....

"Oh Blitzy--!"

And when he heard that erotic gasp and saw that look on Blitz's face, he finally couldn't take it.

The next thing he knew, he was back in the hallway, making a beeline for the room that he'd been instructed to go to only after he'd finished the job. Oh he was going to finish it all right. He was going to finish it slowly and painfully. But there was something even more important that he had to finish first.

He honestly didn't remember what he'd said when he stormed into Stella's room. He didn't know how long he had been there and he had no idea how he got away with being there for any amount of time without her calling for security to run in and tackle him to the ground. Most of all, he had absolutely no idea what the hell kind of reason he could have possibly given for her to locate the party of imps on Earth and open him a portal to get to them--but whatever reason he gave must've been a pretty damn good one. The next thing he knew there was a glowing blue door literally opening in front of his face, revealing a blood soaked room and the now united beings of Hell trapped between a steel door and two human fuckers who were pointing pistols at their faces.

At Blitz's face.

The shots rang out one after the other, followed by the distinct meaty thuds of two bodies hitting the floor. Striker didn't particlarly notice the fact that the portal had closed behind him the minute he stepped into the room, rendering him just as trapped as the others, but he also didn't particularly care. That bird bitch was still going to get exactly what she wanted when he got back--he would make sure of it. But for now, at least, it was enough just to be able to stride over to that face--full of disbelief and shock--and cup it tenderly in his palm.

"You ain't gotta do jack shit alone, Blitz," he said, and the sincerity of his own voice shook him from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. "You're not alone, Blitz."

He didn't know it until much much later, but hearing Striker say those words to him had made Blitz feel as though he'd just been handed the keys to his chains.

[lightsupinthenorth]

It’s the little things

Summary: Instead of giving up on trying to convince Mobius that the TVA agents are variants during their conversation in episode 4, Loki comes up with a new tactic to help him see the light.

Excerpt: "He interrupts Mobius’ rant by slamming both his hands on the table and shouting, seemingly out of the blue: 'you’re left-handed!'"

Read on AO3

Loki’s just blurted out to Mobius that the TVA agents are all variants, in a last-ditch attempt at convincing him they’re on the same side. And also in the hope it will make him shut up about Sylvie and what he thinks Loki feels for her.

Loki goes on, expanding on the bomb he just dropped, talking about Mobius’ hypothetical past and family, hoping it will be enough to make the walls Mobius built around himself crumble.

Once Loki’s said his piece, Mobius keeps silent for a beat. Long enough for Loki to believe it might work out.

Mobius looks rattled. So much so that Loki thinks he actually got through to him.

However, Loki’s hopes are annihilated with two little words:

“Nice try”.

These aren’t the kind of words Loki would ever react well to. Because “nice try”, despite posing as praise, is always thrown at you to point out you failed. Coming from Mobius, it hurts worse than being stabbed. Because, it doesn’t only mean “you failed”. It also means “you lied so many times before that I think everything that comes out of your mouth is just another lie”. It means “I don’t trust you”.

And, really, can Loki blame Mobius for that? He’s been trying his hardest to appear ten steps ahead of everyone ever since he arrived at the TVA, and now his pride and arrogance have turned against him. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but there’s no getting used to it.

As cracks are slowly forming in Loki’s cold black heart, getting it closer and closer to shattering, Mobius starts going off about Loki and Sylvie again.

Loki’s failed on both counts, then: Mobius doesn’t believe him, and he still won’t stop ranting. And he had the nerves to complain about Loki’s yacking!

Loki considers giving up and letting Mobius do whatever he wants with him. However, as he watches Mobius reach for the TemPad with his dominant hand, he’s suddenly hit by a ridiculous – and probably bound to fail – idea. Loki might have a lot of flaws (not that he’d admit to many, if any, of them), but he’s nothing if not resourceful. He thought telling Mobius he was a variant was a last ditch-attempt, but he apparently has another dagger up his sleeve. Its blade is not very sharp, to the point it might as well be made of rubber. Still, Loki will try to make something out of it. He has to try.

He interrupts Mobius’ rant by slamming both his hands on the table and shouting, seemingly out of the blue: “you’re left-handed!”

*

Mobius stops mid-sentence, thrown out of his depth. He sighs, trying to convey exasperation instead of the surprise he really feels. He shouldn’t be surprised by anything Loki comes up with, at this point. It’s not his fault this mad man (god, whatever) still manages to be unpredictable once in a while.

“What’s that got to do with any of it?”

“I… It’s just… Hear me out. I know you don’t trust me, but think about it… really think about it. What the TVA told you about the agents being created by the Time-Keepers doesn’t make sense.”

“You lost me.”

Mobius has no idea how Loki had gone from him being left-handed to “the Time-Keepers didn’t create the TVA agents”. He’s going to need a step-by-step explanation of the process.

Loki briefly looks down, takes a deep breath and then goes back to looking at Mobius, as if bracing himself for something.

“You’re left-handed-“

Mobius opens his mouth to interrupt Loki, because, really, this is becoming ridiculous and they’re running in circles. Loki is probably just stalling for time in order to concoct a new ploy that will get him out of the hole he dug himself. He doesn’t have time to say any of this, though. Loki notices he’s not on board and cuts himself off to say:

“Please, let me get this out. Please.”

His hands are now joined in supplication and his bright blue eyes are desperate and suspiciously shiny. Mobius has seen a lot of Loki’s life, which has included its fair share of tears. That’s how he knows he couldn’t take it if Loki started crying.

So, instead of protesting as he first intended to, he just nods, allowing Loki to resume.

“Thank you. The ‘left-handed’ thing is only the first one on a list of things corroborating my main point. If the Time-Keepers had really created you, why would they have bothered to make you left-handed even though it’s not the norm? Why would you have a sweet-tooth? Why would you be weirdly fascinated by jetskis? When you look at the TVA and the way it’s organised, would you peg the Time-Keepers as beings who would care about giving their agents any type of particularities? The way I see it, if you had been created by them, you’d all be robots passing as human beings, not people with their own personalities… Besides, have your seen your nose? It’s obviously been broken before. Probably several times. Do you even remember that happening?”

Mobius instinctively raises a hand to his nose, tracing the jagged shape of it. He’s still trying to process everything Loki said, and it’s a lot.

His thoughts, as soon as he manages to gather them, jump to the possible reason why Loki’s noticed and remembered all these little things about him. It doesn’t mean Loki cares. Of course it doesn’t. he was probably only gathering intel. Besides, isn’t it absurd that Mobius would focus on this instead of focusing on the point Loki is making?

Because, he is making a point. Isn’t he?

No matter how little is known about the Time-Keepers, Mobius can admit it indeed seems out-of-character for them to have bothered with making their agents have quirks. And he indeed does not remember breaking his nose. Why would the Time-Keepers have made him look this way voluntarily? It serves no purpose.

“Say something, please.”

Mobius regains focus after having lost himself in his thoughts, and he stares into Loki’s eyes. He decides to indulge Loki and speaks, not because Loki asked nicely – after all, the god is more often than not very polite despite his numerous less than pleasant personality traits –, but because everything in his posture suggests he’s on the verge of falling apart:

“Okay… I can see where you’re coming from.”

The effect of his words are instantaneous: Loki’s entire body sags from the relief.

“I’m gonna need more proof than that before I really buy your theory, though.” Mobius says. He’s got to keep Loki on his toes. He can’t have him believe he’s got Mobius wrapped around his little finger (even though he does).

“Proof… well, Sylvie can give you proof. As I said she can access your memories and-“

“Nope, nope, nope. There ain’t no way I’m letting her anywhere near my head to access so-called memories that might not even exist.” Mobius might have admitted to himself that Loki had a point. However, he’s going to pretend there’s still a chance he’s entirely wrong about all this, because if he’s right it means Mobius’s whole life is a lie and Mobius doesn’t have the faintest idea of how he’d deal with that.

“Can’t you do it?” He adds. Apparently, he’s lost every ounce of self-preservation instinct he’s ever possessed. He’s expecting a barb from Loki, something along the lines of “So you do trust me, Mobius, I’m touched”.

He gets none of that. Loki has really decided to catch him off guard today.

Loki doesn’t say anything. He stares at Mobius as if he’d grown a second head. After barely two seconds, though, he snaps out of it, and answers calmly:

“I don’t know how. But… maybe I could learn.”

“Okay… I suppose you’ll need your demented alter-ego for that?”

Loki cringes, which is answer enough.

Mobius sighs. He does that far too often around Loki.

“Right, let’s go get her, then.”

Loki goes back to staring at him as if he’d grown a second head, then. Eyes wide, mouth agape. Mobius would find it funny if the situation wasn’t so dire.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t trust her. And I don’t trust you, either… But I can’t go on with my life as if you fuckers hadn’t just upended it with your crazy variant theory… So I guess I’ll take my chances.”

Mobius gets up and Loki imitates him. Mobius is already moving in the direction of the door when Loki stops him by grabbing his forearm. Mobius turns back toward him and arches an eyebrow in question.

“I know it won’t mean much to you but…  I have your back. I promise I won’t stab it… again. And I’ll make sure Sylvie doesn’t either.”

Mobius doesn’t trust Loki right now. He has no guarantee that he can. Most of Loki’s past suggests he cannot. But, stupidly, Mobius wants to. He really wants to trust him. It wouldn’t take a lot from Loki to make him. He won’t let it show, though. He’s stupid, but not this stupid.

“Right. Time will tell, I suppose.”

Loki is thoroughly unimpressed by Mobius’ time-related pun. It’s fine, though. Mobius is amused enough for the both of them. He smiles at Loki’s grumpy expression.

“Oh come on, it was funny!”

“A dagger through the heart would be funnier.”

Mobius rolls his eyes. Loki is such a drama-queen. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing.  

“Come on, you buzzkill. Let’s go before someone decides to prune your evil twin sister for real.”

Loki groans. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

*

Loki will keep telling himself that: he’s a skilled liar, especially when it comes to lying to himself, and he cannot cope with the truth right now (the truth being that he’s far too fond of Mobius for his own good). He’ll deal with it after they deal with the giant pile of their current problems.

First step: go to Sylvie. Second step: hightail it out of here

[damienthepious]

tuesday vibes are Cuddle Sleepily

To Be Inside Your Arms

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Post-Episode: s02e36-41 Second Citadel - The Battle at World's End, (literally directly post. so like. yeah), Early Relationship, Sleepy Cuddles, Awkwardness, (they're trying), Literal Sleeping Together

Summary: They went somewhere to talk, but that talk is honestly going to have to wait until they aren't so completely drained.

Notes: I've had this idea for a while, to the point where I tried to start it like... five different times. I literally have like Five different half-paragraph openings for this exact pseudo-conversation, and this one FINALLY stuck. They're all... very new at this. Also? Yes, I know we just finished s3 and here I am writing DIRECTLY post s2 content, but consider: I Want To.Title from the song Parallels by Big Thief.

~

Lord Arum brings them somewhere safe, after their duel, after their song. It is a small structure, nearly impossible to distinguish from the plants surrounding it until Arum points it out, pressing on one particular knot in the wall of thick, woven-together vines and prompting a hidden door to swing open for them and reveal a small, cozy sort of space.

Rilla helps Damien out of his armor after they close the door of the little bark-walled hut behind them, and they clean off the worst of the grime, the tears, the mud, the blood. Rilla sets Damien's arm properly, and the lizard pretends not to keep a concerned eye on them as he starts a fire in the clay hearth, putting water to boil for tea. Rilla splints her poor ankle as well, batting Damien's hands away when he tries to help, and when she finishes she sighs with such weariness that it cuts through to Damien's heart.

Arum frowns, then, watching Rilla's face, the purpling shadows beneath her eyes, the slump of her shoulders, and then the monster extinguishes the fire before the water comes to a proper boil.

There is a pause before Rilla notices, which is even more damning evidence of her exhaustion than anything else.

"What, change your mind?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I did, in fact," Arum rumbles, looking away. "We won't be needing the tea to accompany our conversation. There is no productive conversation to be had while the both of you are in such sorry states."

"S-sorry?" Damien manages, his voice going high, and the monster's frown deepens, the frill at his neck raising just slightly, in anger or whatever else Damien does not know.

"You are both injured, and you are both clearly well past exhausted. I would rather hold a conversation with creatures more lucid than the both of you will currently be."

Damien blinks, entirely uncertain what Arum's sharp, uncomfortable tone and his deeply deliberate avoidance of eye contact indicate, but Rilla folds her arms over her chest with something like a smile ghosting across her lips.

"If that's your way of saying that you're worried about us, that's very sweet of you."

Arum growls, still looking away as he pokes at the hearth to ensure that the logs aren't going to reignite. "Don't be absurd," he says quickly, and something in Damien's chest skips at the transparency of the denial.

"Okay," Rilla says soothingly, smiling a little wider. "Right. Entirely selfish reasons, then."

"Entirely," the monster says, still looking away.

"I imagine that you are rather exhausted yourself, Lord Arum," Damien offers.

"Yes, well," Arum straightens, huffing in a way that reminds Damien of a bird ruffling its feathers. "Any day during which one nearly dies or averts an extinction event is bound to be somewhat draining, and each of us have experienced at least one of those two since the sun rose today."

Rilla snorts a laugh, and then- another expression crosses her face, far more serious.

"Thank you, by the way," she says, and Arum immediately winces. "I don't… I don't know that we would've made it out of there, if you didn't tell me... just, thank you." He turns towards her with a rising snarl, but Rilla's smile is awkward and uncertain, and the sight of it makes the angry rattle in Arum's throat stutter off.

He swallows, and then looks away again, his tail flicking. "Don't... don't thank me for- for giving you a chance to clean up the mess that I made, Amaryllis," he mutters, and then he shakes his head as she opens her mouth to retort. "And this is- precisely what I meant. We can argue over culpability and injury and morality in the morning, if you have not changed your minds by then, takatakataka."

Rilla scowls more deeply as Damien considers Arum's phrasing, noting that the lizard only suggested that they might change their minds. Apparently, Arum does not imagine that his own feelings are in danger of any such shift.

"Fine," Rilla relents, "fine, fine. Okay. Sleep, then. Is there a bedroom tucked in here or are we just gonna pile up on the floor?"

Arum turns with a grumble, presses a hand against a wide leaf that Damien assumed was simply part of the wall, and the flora swings aside, showing another smaller room.

Rilla grabs Damien's uninjured arm as she passes him, pulling them both along together to follow the lizard.

"Okay?" she murmurs, her eyes cautious, and Damien's heart aches again with fondness, with appreciation, and he squeezes her hand in return.

Arum pretends not to hear them, reaching to light a small lantern with a flick of the wrist (Damien is unsure, precisely, if the monster is using some magic, or if he is simply deft with some small tool Damien cannot see) and then turning to frown in the vague direction of their clasped hands.

"I suppose this will have to do, for the moment," he says, and Damien struggles to bury a smile.

The bed is- not exactly a bed. It appears to be as much grown as the rest of the structure, low to the ground, woven from soft living leaves, with a silk sheet puddled unceremoniously across the bottom half. Damien sags at the sight regardless, his body preemptively relieved at the mere idea of rest, and beside him Rilla exhales an entire lungful of exhaustion herself.

Arum's lip twitches, almost a smile, and then he gestures towards the bed. "I suppose I should... leave you to it, then." He pauses, flicks his tongue in the air as two of his hands brush at his cape and the other two fold stiffly behind his back. "Sleep... sleep well."

Damien's heart twists, sinks, and when Arum glances back towards him again he realizes that he must have made some small, unhappy noise. Rilla squeezes his hand again, more gently.

"Unless you would prefer I stay," the monster says quickly, and then he glances away. "This part of the swamp is not particularly dangerous, but of course I would understand if you should require a- a show of good faith, or-"

"I'd just rather have you here," Rilla says, and the monster snaps his mouth shut.

"I... yes," Damien agrees, his voice feeling small. "I know it has been rather too full a day to finish with a... a negotiation of our positions, together, but- but at the very least, I think, we have agreed that we- we would like to try. To try to- to be, together. If it would not trouble you to-"

"I did not wish to press past your own comfort." Arum winces, makes a rumbling noise in his chest with his frill fluttering, and then he takes another step closer. "That's all. If this... if you do not mind my presence-"

"Oh for Saints' sake," Rilla mutters, and then she simply turns and tips herself over like a falling tree, bouncing to land on the bed with a heavy sigh. "C'mon, already," she says, her eyes already closed as she scrabbles with a hand to snatch the sheet and pull it closer. "Whole point is that we're fucking exhausted, and I'm too tired to pretend that I don't want the both of you where I can reach you, even if we haven't put words on it yet."

Damien's heart swells, Rilla's breathy, lazy, slipping-towards-sleep voice so familiar and safe, even in such a strange place. Arum takes another step closer with a small laugh, his frill settling and his own eyes full of something that Damien recognizes after a moment as fondness. Damien bites his lip, as if that will do anything at all to stifle the size of his emotions, and then he reaches a hand out to help Rilla untangle the sheet.

She grabs his wrist and pulls, though, and Damien doesn't have the presence of mind (or the inclination, truly) to resist, and he stumbles sideways to collapse beside Rilla, yelping as he goes. Rilla mutters wordlessly, tugging Damien closer with one hand and pressing her head into his shoulder, and Damien could not suppress his smile for the whole of the world as he curls his arms around her, settling helplessly against the softness of the bed.

He glances up, over Rilla's shoulder, and Arum-

The amount of desire in Arum's vivid, violet eyes knocks the breath from Damien's lungs. He stares down at them, his hands still fisted tight in the fabric of his cape, his frame held so carefully still, and then as Damien catches his gaze he exhales a breath, his tongue flicking in the air.

Rilla makes another grumbling noise, stretching her other arm - the one not clinging to Damien's back - out across the bed, in the vague direction of Lord Arum, though her eyes do not open again. Damien laughs lightly, and then he meets Arum's eyes again.

Arum hesitates, frill fluttering again, but then Rilla makes another, slightly angrier noise, and Damien draws his hands soothingly down her back with another breath of laughter.

"I very much doubt she will let either of us rest, Lord Arum, unless you come join us," he says, keeping his tone teasing and light, and Arum laughs as well.

"She is... rather stubborn," the monster mutters, fond again, and Rilla finally cracks an eye open to glare at him. "Alright," he shakes his head, "alright."

He follows the grasping direction of Rilla's other hand, slipping onto the bed on the side opposite Damien and letting her draw her palm down his bicep, down his forearm before she grips his scaled hand and squeezes with a contented sigh, finally settling against the softness beneath them.

"Better?" Damien murmurs, his lips close beside Rilla's temple, and she sighs again, nodding slightly.

"Stubborn," Arum murmurs again, draping himself out on the bed beside Rilla, but when he leaves a careful degree of space between them, Rilla rolls closer. She presses her cheek against his shoulder, then tugs his hand to settle over her heart with an impatient huff. "Amaryllis-"

"Shush. We're sleeping. Want you closer. Manage feelings in the morning."

Arum glances over her head with a raised eyebrow, and Damien smiles helplessly, and then he- he decides that Rilla is right. He shifts closer as well, folding himself along Rilla's back and wrapping an arm around her so he may do as he wishes, and curl his hand around Rilla and Arum's own, clasped by her collarbone.

Arum exhales, shaky with a hint of a rattle at the back of his throat. "Ridiculous," he mutters unconvincingly, and then with his free hand he reaches and tugs up the sheet, arranging it to rest properly over all three of them before he settles.

It feels... easy, Damien realizes with some surprise. The complication, the tangled web woven between all of them, the friction and lack of understanding and the fear (or worry, at the very least); it will all return with the morning, Damien suspects.

Right now, though. Right now, in this moment, in the haze of exhaustion but with the assurance that they are all three of them together, whole, and safe, finally safe- that they are willing to look each other in the eye and speak their hearts, that they may rest upon each other, may tangle their hands between them-

It feels easy, to brush his thumb across Rilla and Arum's knuckles, twined together. It feels easy to let the weariness carry him deeper, closer to slumber, tucked warm beside his forever-flower and Lord Arum.

With time, Damien thinks, and with patience, perhaps they might make all of the troubles between them feel easy, as well.

[luki-fanfic]

Miraculous Ladybug - Kill Them with Kindness

So…Miraculous Ladybug has been disappointing for quite some time now.  I can barely even watch the show any more.  What started as a fun, sweet cartoon with a great premise has been all but run into the ground by bad writing, erratic characterisation, and very lazy setups.  As such I’ve mostly been inhabiting the salt fic corner of the fandom, since their out of character scripts and personalities are at the very least, intentional.

However, after reading many, many ‘Marinette-snaps’ regarding Lila’s lies, I wondered how I would have written Marinette handling the situation. For me, I think it would involve slightly less salt, more spite, and a whole lot of petty vengeance on Marinette’s part as their ‘Everyday Ladybug,’ without turning the class into an obsessive anti-Marinette-mob.  

This sort of ended up part fic/part summary, so apologies for that…

After two weeks of Lila’s lies, Marinette is near the end of her rope.  She rants to Alya about her frustration, and Alya isn’t much help, since she suspects that Marinette’s anger has more to do with Lila’s closeness to Adrian.  She is known to get jealous, and often takes things too seriously – remember her first impression on model boy?

Marinette insists this is different, and Alya tells her it doesn’t matter, because the class likes Lila. While Marinette might insist that Lila is fake, they haven’t seen any reason to disbelieve her.  Like it or not, the class - Alya included – believe everything that Lila has said.

She expects Marinette to growl or groan in frustration.  Possibly throwing up her hands and starting another thousand-words-in-thirty-seconds vent her way regarding Lila.  What she doesn’t see coming, is Marinette freezing in place, her eyes wide in revelation.  When she asks if Marinette is okay, the girl starts laughing, saying something about why she hadn’t realised it before.  She can’t possibly handle Lila, but their class can.

Before Alya can question this, Marinette shakes off her episode, and asks Alya if Lila has any allergies she knows about.  At the negative, she runs out the school gates, insisting there’s something she needs to do.

After lunch, Marinette goes up to Lila, and apologies for not welcoming her to the class properly.  As class rep, it’s her responsibility to make sure everyone’s needs are met, and that’s what she’s going to do from now on.  And as an apology, she went to her parents bakery and got an assortment of treats for the whole class.

Everyone is delighted Marinette has finally decided to bury the hatchet (although Alya and Adrian are very confused).  Lila doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, but she’s certainly not going to back off just because Marinette has suddenly realised she can’t win.  She says she’d love to try something, but she’s deathly allergic to certain ingredients.  In reality, just being this close to them is very dangerous for her, and could Marinette please take them away?

Everyone is horrified, and Marinette puts the tray outside, but Lila is surprised to see something other than anger and frustration in Marinette’s eyes when she returns.  

She apologies for not knowing about her allergies, because when she’d asked Alya, she hadn’t mentioned any.  Lila – realising Marinette had been smart and covered her gesture – has to frantically cover and admit she doesn’t like to mention it as she just takes allergy medication to recover.  

Marinette merely asks for a list of anything else Lila is allergic to – because she has other options from the bakery and would like to know for future reference.  Lila rattles off a handful of ingredients she knows are in baked goods, and Marinette makes a point to write down everything Lila says she’s allergic too ‘for future reference,’ before taking the pastries to be thrown out.

Lila doesn’t know what to make of it, and while everyone is kind of irritated at being offered baked goods only to have them removed because Marinette ‘should have asked Lila about her allergies,’ she goes to lunch feeling smug.  Right up until she goes to the cafeteria, and the lunch lady refuses to give her what she orders, ‘because of her allergies.’

Turns out, when Marinette went to throw out the treats, she did it by the cafeteria, and when they’d asked why she was throwing them out, she told them all about ‘poor Lila’ and her allergies.  She was so sweet to take their food without complaint, no doubt she had to use an epi-pen every day.  But now that they know, they’re going to make sure Lila has a perfectly safe meal.  Of course, the number of things Lila can eat with her ‘allergies’ means she’s currently stuck with little more than plain white rice.  She can’t counter it without admitting she lied, so she’s stuck with it for now.

Marinette is also getting smarter with Lila’s own words.  No matter how she spins things, Marinette manages to turn it back on her.  If Lila tries to trick Marinette with wordplay, she never insists ‘Lila said,’ but that it’s a classmate who told her – and then recites what they said verbatim.  She can’t insist Marinette misunderstood unless she reveals she was misleading the classmate first.

A week later, Marinette is acting as class rep at the front of the class, trying to organise a class trip that’ll happen soon.  Lila decides to use this to her advantage, and when Marinette suggests visiting a local restaurant near possible trip locations, Rose remembers that Lila ‘knows the owner’ of a much fancier 5 star restaurant very close to it.  Lila grins and gets ready to play her role, ready to twist words and make it so Marinette refuses to let them go, only for Marinette to reply first.

“I can’t just ask Lila to use one of her connections like that,” she insists. “It would terribly rude of me to just assume someone could do that without them offering first.”

“Oh, I’m certain it wouldn’t be any bother at all,” Lila insists, trying to get the conversation on track.  Marinette shakes her head, and repeats that she can’t possibly ask that of Lila – she doesn’t ask Alya to get her mother to host parties at the hotel, or get Adrian to ask his father for help with fashion connections, or get ask Alix to get them into the museum for free.  it’s rude to demand someone use their connections, especially if they haven’t offered.  However, if Lila wants to arrange it, that’s fine with Marinette.

Lila is completely thrown.  Marinette has to know she doesn’t have the connection, so why is she letting it happen?  The only possible theory she has is that Marinette wants to watch her fail, which is foolish.  Lila will have plenty of time to manipulate things so that Marinette is the one that ruined the reservation.

…Except Marinette then asks Ms Bustier to make sure everything is okay and confirm the reservation a week beforehand, since Marinette is far too young and unconnected to get a reservation in such a fancy place.  Lila can make the reservation and give it and the restaurant number to Ms Bustier to confirm.  Everyone agrees that this totally makes sense, and Lila realises it means Marinette could never be blamed for it failing.  She manages to save herself by spinning a lie about the restaurant being booked solid and while the boss would love to fit her in, they were just too big a number.

Everyone is disappointed, except Marinette, and Lila seizes on this, trying to make it seem like Marinette is happy they couldn’t go.  Marinette insists nothing could be further from the truth, she’d love to visit the restaurant, but she’s not surprised they couldn’t fit them in.  It’s such a busy restaurant, and even if Lila knows the boss, look at how busy Lila is most of the time. Successful places and people are always busy, and it was such short notice.  She’s sure Lila did her best, but Marinette has done commissions before, she knows how important scheduling is.

She looks at the members of Kitty Section and reminds them of when they couldn’t take a booking because they were already busy, and Chloe, clearly getting the game and going ‘enemy of my enemy,’ mentions that her Daddy once ended up not speaking to some Minister in Spain for months because the man demanded to see him last minute and he couldn’t make it because he was already seeing a baron from England that day.

The whole class starts talking in realisation, and before Lila can try to wrest back control, people are coming up and apologising for always asking about her contacts, especially since they always seem to back out at the last minute.  They hadn’t realised just how busy those circles were, and they’ll stop doing it now.  Within days, while people are still listening to her stories, any offers to ‘introduce’ people are met with a sincere, ‘thanks, but I know you’re very busy. That’s not necessary.’  

A few days later, it gets worse.  A few minutes before class starts, their maths and literature teachers appears to speak to Ms Bustier.  They then take Lila outside, and tell her that they’ve arranged personal tutoring for her during lunch breaks and after class to help her catch up with what she’s missed.

Lila insists that’s not necessary, the class is helping her, but they tell her that Max came to them explaining how busy Lila is with her humanitarian goals and charity work, and that it’s clearly been hard for her given how much time she’s had to spend with other classmates tutoring.  He thought it might be easier if she got one on one tutoring with experts – that way she could catch up even faster and not have to cut back on her work.

When she asks Max why he went to the teachers, he admits that Marinette gave him the idea.  Since Lila was away for so long, and the other kids have done her work so many times, she was worried Lila might never be able to catch up.  Wouldn’t it be better if a friend the teachers would listen to managed to arrange personal tutoring during times that wouldn’t impede her work?  Other students agreed that it made sense, so Max talked to them.

Max clearly expects her to be grateful, and Lila can’t find a way to explain she isn’t without making it clear she wanted other people to do the work and spend time with Adrian, so she’s stuck.  She’s ticked at losing so much personal time, but it’s only a day or two, and Max even made sure to get it on days outside of Adrian’s ‘tutoring’ so Lila can’t even say Marinette did it to make that stop.  She can live with this.

Except, later that week, just before PE, the gym teacher takes Lila aside, and she meets with a woman she’s never met.  She’s a physiotherapist, and a relation of one of the sport’s teams coaches.

She explains that Kim and Alix both came to said coach, worried that Lila’s many physical injuries are still causing problems despite being out of casts.  While Lila isn’t in any sports classes, she wants to help Lila as a favour to some of the school’s most athletic students (who she’s helped before at the coach’s request), and so they’ve arranged physiotherapy during two other lunch periods, gym class and twice after school, to help strengthen her after so many injuries.

Lila doesn’t even need to ask, Kim and Alix both readily admit Marinette is the one that mentioned it.  If Lila doesn’t even have the strength to carry books, how could she possibly plant trees in Bolivia?  Or hike life saving medicine 20 miles into the African desert?  This is what they can do to help her with her goals – and the coach is one of the best, she’s really doing them a favour by doing it for free – and Lila can’t get out of it again.  

(What they don’t mention is that the physiotherapist is getting paid.  She’s getting married and when Alix told Marinette, she promised to make her bridesmaid dresses if she could help out their ‘poor, injured classmate as a ‘thank you.’  As someone whose seen Marinette’s work, the therapist thought it was a bargain, and Alix and Kim don’t tell Lila because Marinette doesn’t want her to ‘feel guilty’ about it.  They’re just delighted Marinette is finally helping Lila like she does for the rest of them).

At this point, Lila’s free time during and after school is limited, and going out isn’t much fun as it used to be, because everybody is super aware of her ‘allergies’ now and won’t let her eat anything that could be a risk, and most people just want to do study groups to ‘help Lila get her free time back.’  At least Marinette can’t do anything else to her at this point.

Except, clearly, she underestimated the Baker’s daughter.  Because on Friday, she’s called to the Headmaster’s office to meet with a medical student from a nearby university.  Apparently, she’s decided to do a report regarding Ladybug’s lucky charm and it’s apparent healing properties that have kept the Akuma’s injury and body count at zero.  She’s learned that Lila’s Tinnitus was healed by the lucky charm, and as the only person to ever have a pre-existing condition healed, she’s desperate to study Lila.  

Lila, smelling yet more obligation she can’t get out of, tries to back out, only for the student to admit she’d planned to call Lila’s mother in order to explain everything before they got the agreement set up, and Lila – desperate to keep that from happening – finds herself agreeing.  She tries to hold off by saying she just doesn’t have the time at the moment…only for the Med student to ask if she can steal her away a few mornings.  She’ll even drive her to school, and the principal promises to give her exception for being late.  

And so Lila returns to class, somewhat horrified that she now has to properly study tinnitus to make sure she can lie to a trained medical professional well enough that she wont realise she’s faking former symptoms.

She demands to know why Marinette contacted the nurse, only to learn that it was Alya. The nurse had contacted her via the blog after seeing Lila’s interviews, and Alya had thought Ladybug’s ‘best friend’ would love to help other people with something like this.

(She doesn’t admit that while that’s true, she’d been hesitant to call without asking Lila first, but Marinette had reminded her that Lila doesn’t mind the spotlight, and Alya has said she’s supposedly helped with this sort of thing before.  She can always so no if she doesn’t want to, right?)

Even Rose pipes up that Lila had insisted it was her duty to help people, and Lila is forced to sit down and eat her words.  Her schedule, once lazy and easily managed, is now crammed with tutoring and unnecessary physiotherapy and now experimentation.  It’s a miracle she’s managed to keep it away from her mother so far, and the only time she sees her ‘friends’ is during class.  While Marinette has done nothing regarding the validity of her celebrity or charity lies, she no longer has the time to use them for her advantage.  The only way she can break free is to admit she lied, or work through everything to the point where she no longer needs the tutoring and therapy…and thus can no longer use the lie to get away with things.

“Well played, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she says to herself at the back of the room, glaring at the girl’s back.  “Well played indeed.”

—

After school, Adrian catches up with Marinette and asks how she did it considering she hates lying so much.  

Marinette admits that while she knows Lila is lying, nobody is willing to believe her.  So her only option is to act as if the lies are true, and treat Lila as if she’s being honest.  And since everyone else believes what she’s saying is true, they’re the ones she talked into helping.  She argued with the class that if Lila isn’t lying, then she needs their full support given all the terrible things that happened to her.  If that means reducing her diet, forcing her into long physiotherapy classes or talking teachers into giving her extra tutoring, so be it.  

She smiles and explains that, simply put?  If Lila isn’t going to tell the truth, Marinette is going to act as if she is.  Whether Lila likes it or not.

Adrian finds himself approving.  And just a little bit terrified of ever crossing his other Ladybug.  He’s suddenly very glad he’s on her side.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Haunted Ones: 1 Hello, Welcome Home

Tom Hanniger x Reader

Words: 2603

Series Summary: Scarred by their past, Tom Hanniger and his girlfriend decide to face their nightmares together. When the reader’s past begins to resurface, the two must hold fast to each other, or submit to insanity. 

Episode Summary: After six years together in the institution, the reader takes Tom back to her hometown. Back to where it all happened. 

Notes: I know I said fourteen imagines for October, but I just couldn’t resist this idea after watching this movie. I wrote a fic series for the video game Until Dawn and I’ve wanted to write something similar for a long time. I don’t know how often this’ll be updated, so just continue to check in if you enjoy!

Thanks to my wonderful beta @suckmysupernatural​. She’s a beautiful human and I love her!

-

Shake. Shake. Shake. You could hear the pills rattling around in your pocket. Shake. Shake. Shake. The jeep slowly creeped down the road, a heavy fog making it nearly impossible for Tom to see. You were getting close. 

Trees stretched up to the sky, looming over the car like they were ready to swallow you. You used to love those trees. Even they seemed to have turned against you. You kept your gaze on the road and with every mile, the weight on your chest grew heavier and heavier. It wouldn’t be long before you passed the house. 

Tom noticed the way you shrank into your seat like you were trying to disappear. The look in your eyes was one he was all too familiar with. It was a crippling combination of crushing guilt and absolute terror. You’d had it since you’d left the institution and it only intensified when a narrow road split the trees apart. It gaped at you, mocking your fear. Even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that the house was watching you. Tom drove faster, hoping to put your memory in the rearview mirror as soon as possible. 

With a trembling hand, you dumped a couple of pills into your palm. Shake. Shake. Shake. You brought the little white ovals up to your lips, feeling Tom’s worried gaze follow your movement. 

“Maybe we should go camping like we talked about.” He suggested, pulling the jeep over. He knew you hated those pills. He hated his too. 

“No.” You swallowed, shaking your head. “I have to go back. I have to go home.” You hesitated and made sure Tom wasn’t looking before you poured one more pill into your hand. Shake. Shake. Shake.

-

“Fucking hate motels.” Tom muttered as he stuck the key in the lock. You felt all of the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Someone was watching you. Afraid to look, you slowly turned your head. The curtains of the room next store closed in a flash. 

“What is it?” Tom asked, eyes searching the direction that you were looking.

“I thought… nothing.” You pushed inside the room. You were just being paranoid. You just had to keep reminding yourself what the nurses said. Dr. Krychek was dead. She couldn’t hurt you anymore. 

Tom placed both of your bags at the foot of the bed before collapsing onto the comforter. You kicked off your shoes and crawled up beside him. Tom slowly unbuttoned your jacket and laid his hand over the large, jagged line that stretched across your stomach. His touch grounded you. It kept you from going back there. Back to that house. 

While he soothingly ran his fingers over the length of the scar, you tapped the rhythm of his heart beat on his chest. 

This was a routine that you’d fallen into anytime one of you was having a particularly rough day. HIs touch kept the pain at bay and your steady taps reminded him that he was still himself. You anchored each other to the present to keep from slipping into the past. 

“Thank you.” You whispered into the fabric of his sweatshirt. The olive green color reminded you of a pond - steady and calming. 

“I still think we should leave.” He huffed, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I don’t care what the nurses said.”

“It’ll help me get closure. I need to move on.” It was a line you’d heard over and over again. Your voice sounded automatic, rehearsed. The following words were your own. “I have to go see her, Tom. She’s probably wondering where I’ve been all these years.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, last time you saw her was the trial and she nearly broke your nose.” Tom pulled away to give you a concerned glance. You shrugged. 

“From what I’ve heard, Amanda has been doing okay. She’s married now and adopting two boys.” You had a tone of envy in your voice. “She certainly coped better than I did.” For one, she didn't spend the last six years being fed a bunch of self-help bullshit. 

Tom didn’t try to argue. He just wanted to keep you safe, whether it was from this town or from yourself. Your eyes locked together and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Can we talk about something else?” You pouted. It had been a long day and you wanted to forget where you were, if only for a few hours. Tom nodded. 

It felt odd, having no one to hide from. Your nurses discouraged romantic attachments, especially with other patients. They said that a relationship would only confuse you more. They also thought that you were just some fragile little girl afraid of her own shadow. They didn’t know what you were capable of. 

And you weren’t hiding anymore.

Tom’s breathing hitched as you lowered his hand from your scar to the waistband of your jeans. His free hand undid the rest of the buttons on your jacket and snaked around your back, unclipping your bra with one motion. 

With your hands free, you removed his sweatshirt, followed by his belt. He slipped off his jeans before shimmying yours down your legs. You threw your jacket on the floor, followed by your shirt. The cool air found your bare skin, making your shiver, but his body was quick to warm yours. He whispered your name, kissing a trail from your neck down your stomach until he settled between your legs. Your fingers laced through his hair, desperate to feel something other than fear or anger or despair. You just wanted to feel him. 

-

By the time Tom woke up, you were half dressed. You walked around the motel room in slacks and your white lacey bra. He couldn’t help but smirk at the sight. 

“Hey,” He greeted, lazily swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

“I’m just going out for some coffee. Sleep in.” You playfully shoved him back onto the pillows. Tom hooked his fingers through your belt loops and pulled you onto his lap. 

“Give me a second to get dressed and I’ll go with you.” His strong arms locked around your waist and those green eyes nearly had you. You shook your head and kissed his forehead. 

“I can go get coffee by myself, Tom. You spent all day driving yesterday. You need the extra rest. Especially after last night.” You silenced his argument with a kiss. “I won’t be gone long.” Tom gave you a disapproving frown. 

“Okay.” He said reluctantly. You pried yourself away and put on one of your nicer blouses. You wanted to look decent for your return to your home town. If you could look sane, maybe people would believe it. 

You went out the door and Tom laid down, but had no intention of sleeping. He didn’t like sleeping alone. Without you, he saw him again. Swinging that fucking pick ax into someone’s skull. Sometimes it was your body he saw in those mines. Sometimes he saw his own.

You didn’t really just go to get coffee. You to Alli’s, the diner in town that you went to as a kid. You had heard that Amanda was working here as a manager. Funny. She used to be a law student. But hey, who were you to judge?

The subtlety you’d been hoping for was quickly ruined. It felt like every pair of eyes were on you. Cars even slowed down to get a better look. You tried your best to ignore them. None of them understood. None of them except Amanda. 

The sign of Alli’s had new paint. It used to be blue. It was red now. 

Going in was like a scene from a movie. The music stopped, all chatter halted and everything just froze. Dozens of stares burned into you and you wished you could sink back into that motel bed with Tom’s warmth pressed against you. Holding your chin a little high, you approached the register. 

“What is going on out here? Y’all look like you’ve seen a-” Amanda froze, eyes meeting yours, “ghost.” 

“Hey Mandy.” 

Just like that, it all flooded back into you. And from the look of her eyes, you knew she felt it too. Neither of you were standing in that diner anymore. You were back at the house. 

 Seven Years Ago

Your legs ached, your muscles screaming from being strapped down for so long. But you couldn’t stop. If you stopped, she’d catch you. 

“We have to go back for her!” Amanda sobbed. You were practically dragging her down the hall, fingers clamped around her wrist. Your other arm was pressed against your bleeding stomach like you could keep your insides from spilling out. With the amount of blood gushing from the wound, your vision was turning black around the edges. And still, you pulled Amanda along behind you as you kept running. 

“Stop it! Stop!” Amanda fought your iron grip. “We have to go back for her! Ashley! Ashley!” Her screams for her sister went unanswered. 

“Ashley’s dead.” You blurted. Amanda pretended not to hear you. 

“Ashley! Ashley!” A figure appeared at the end of the hall. 

“Get back here!” Dr. Krychek shrieked. 

“Fuck.” You muttered, yanking Amanda through the door. She kicked and she screamed, but you didn’t care. You were getting out. 

Present Day

“Y/N?” Amanda gasped. “Jesus, I thought you might be-”

“Dead?” You laughed humorlessly. You stepped towards her. “Nuts? Yes. But very much alive.” 

You waited for her to yell. To slap you and to order you out of the restaurant. You weren’t prepared for her to fling her arms around you and cry happily into your shoulder. 

“I thought I would never see you again.” She cried. “And after everything I said at the courthouse… I’m so glad you came home.” 

Still shocked by the rush of affection, you hesitantly returned her hug. The last time you saw Amanda, she clawed your face and called you a murderer. She had to be pried off you by courthouse security. They said she wasn’t thinking straight because of the trial, but she was the only one who knew the truth. Dr. Krychek didn’t kill her sister. You did.

-

Back at the motel, Tom was getting anxious. Your ten minute coffee run had turned into an hour. His call to your cell went unanswered, sending an icy panic through his veins. If you were alone for too long, you could have one of your episodes, with or without those damn pills. 

“She’s abandoned you, Tommy boy. Left you all alone with me.”

Tom ignored him and called again. 

“Come on, you’re not really worried about her. You’re worried that, without her, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Tom quickly downed a handful of his pills and continued to ignore the voice. Leaving one more unanswered call, Tom decided enough was enough. He put on some jeans and his sweatshirt and grabbed the keys to his jeep. 

“I’ll be back, Tom. You know I will.”

Tom took a deep breath and started the car. He didn’t make it far before he saw the glare of red and blue lights. Again, the freezing hand of panic seized his heart. No, no, no. He slammed on the breaks, leaving the jeep in the middle of the street to investigate. 

The yard was teeming with police and paramedics. They had been called too late, judging by the body being loaded into the ambulance. 

“Poor woman.” One of the neighbors. “Emily was supposed to play cards this weekend… poor woman.”

He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t you. 

“What happened?” He wondered genuinely. The woman shrugged. 

“The gardener found her. All cut up on her kitchen floor.” She shook her head. “It’s like the Krychek killings all over again.” She mused before walking over to a group of other neighbors. Tom observed the scene for another minute or two before returning to his jeep. 

He found you walking down main street with another woman. You were smiling. 

Tom quickly pulled over and caught up to you. You noticed the worry on his face before he threw his arms around you. In catching up with Amanda, you had forgotten he was waiting for you. 

“You didn’t answer your phone and when I saw those cops I-” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Paranoid, I know.”

“Tom, I’m so sorry.” You pulled back and placed an apologetic kiss on his cheek. “We got to talking and I didn’t even think about how worried you would be.” His eyes darted between you and Amanda. 

“Oh, how rude of me. I’m Amanda. Y/N and I were friends when we were kids.” She held out her hand to shake his and he took it, eyes narrowed slightly. She just kept smiling. 

“It’s okay, Mandy. He knows.” You could tell that she had this part rehearsed well, but there was no need to pretend with Tom. She visibly relaxed. He gave her a small smile. 

“Tom Hanniger.” Her expression was quizzical, as if she was trying to place the name. Tom clarified. “That Hanniger.”

You forgot that you weren't too far from Tom’s hometown. The news of the mine collapse and the Harry Warden murderers spread all over the state. Even after nine years, she recognized the name. 

You recalled something strange Tom had mentioned. 

“What were you saying about the police?” You asked. His expression darkened. 

“They found a body.” His lips formed a grim line. There was something else. 

“What?” You urged. You never hid anything from each other. He let out a heavy sigh. 

“I heard someone say…” He trailed off, reluctant to share in fear of scaring the two of you. You and Amanda watched him expectantly. “They said it was like a Krychek killing.” 

Amanda gasped, but you didn’t make a sound. It was like a light in your eyes just switched off. This is what he was afraid of. 

“Baby, hey, look at me. Y/N, look at me.” He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb lightly tracing your trembling lip. 

“W-what’s wrong with her?” Amanda squeaked. 

“Y/N, I'm right here. You’re right here.” He slipped his hand in between the two of you, resting it over your blouse where he knew the scar was. After a moment, his touch brought you back. You blinked and the light flipped back on. 

“Tom?” You whispered. He enveloped you in his embrace. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He swayed slightly, rocking you in his protective arms. Amanda gave the couple a small smile. 

“I’d better get back to work.” She sighed. Her eyes brightened with an idea. “Come to dinner tonight. Matt and I would love to have you.”

You parted from Tom to give her a nod. She excitedly walked back to the diner, leaving the two of you behind. 

“She seems… well adjusted.” Tom noted, leading you to the jeep. 

“She certainly coped better than I did.” You scoffed, repeating your statement from the previous night. Still feeling the aftermath of your attack, you pulled out your pills and dumped them into your hand. Shake. Shake. Shake. With a heavy sigh, you looked at the town you once called home. “God, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

“One thing has.” Tom put his hand on top of yours. “You’re not alone anymore.” Your lips turned up in a loving smile. With a sweet kiss Tom started the car.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

[youngerdrgrey]

a choice for the choiceless // a Batwoman, post-2x15 fic

about: Post 2x15, the ladies of the Bat Team try to help their friend, who seems almost resentful to be alive. How do you help someone when they’re in a place like this? + read on ao3

Notes: there was a lot in 2x15 (“Armed and Dangerous”), and this is partially me processing my own feelings, as well as everyone else’s. Spoilers below for that episode, as it picks up close after. Features the whole of our Bat Team; some Hamilfox and hints of Wildmoore feels here as well

Content Warnings: brief talk of suicidal ideology, hopelessness, and systemic violence against Black people

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.

Luke stares out the window at The Hold Up. His shoulders cave inwards, and his neck strains to make up for the fact that he hasn’t totally turned towards the light. He watches it though. Tracks the people on the street while Sophie crosses back over to him with their coffees.

It’s been three days since Luke woke up from his coma. Sophie hasn’t spent a lot of time with him since then. Mostly, she talks with Jacob about what a new version of the Crows would require. She texts with Mary and Ryan, who swear that Luke will be back to his old self any day now. But Sophie wants to see for herself how he’s doing.

She sets his hot cup in front of him. The steam slips from the top of it. He glances over and nods his thanks in her direction.

Sophie starts light. “I’ve been meaning to congratulate you. You and Ryan really had me going when I ‘introduced’ you that day.” They’d pretended not to know each other, which gave Ryan a chance to poke fun at Luke. “I should’ve known you were joking. You don’t seem like a sweet drinks kind of guy.”

Luke picks up his cup. “I’m not.”

“Not the talkative kind of guy either?” she asks. Luke sighs into the top of his cup. Sophie offers a smile. “Hey, totally fine. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“Probably about as good as you,” he says. His nostrils flare before he swipes under his nose. “Kate’s gone. Your mom won’t talk to you. The Crows are completely dismantled. In a few short months, you’ve essentially lost everything that you’ve spent your whole life working towards. How are you, Soph?”

On edge, with that list.

Sophie shifts back in her seat to get away from the cold facade that’s taken over Luke. She sips her own drink to buy a moment to process. He doesn’t mean to be blunt. He’s deflecting rather than talking about himself, but if Sophie can say the right thing, then maybe her words can help him out too.

“I’m… managing. I would much rather see all of this as a chance to start over.” At least that’s how she’s trying to see things. “Jacob’s getting clean. Ryan and I aren’t constantly fighting. She actually sat next to me on the couch yesterday without comment, so…. There's good stuff happening too. It’s not just a loss.”

Luke meets her eyes for a moment, but the warmth and curiosity that’s normally there is gone. Snuffed out. He takes another swig of his coffee, then sets the empty cup back onto the table.

“Glad to hear it,” he deadpans. “I’ll see you at the office.”

He pushes his chair back, and Sophie can’t find the words to tell him to stop. He walks off without another look at her. Sophie grabs her phone from her bag and calls Ryan.

Ryan speaks immediately. “Hey, how is he?”

Sophie sighs. “He’s still off.”

A walk sign beeps on Ryan’s end of the call. She says, “He came back from the dead. It can take a lot out of someone.”

“You bounced back pretty quick.” If Sophie remembers correctly, Ryan was back on the streets immediately. Sophie mourned Kate, and Ryan as Batwoman tore through the streets to try and take down the False Face Society. She didn’t shut down like this.

“I don’t think we can compare these. I said my goodbyes on that island, but Luke experienced one of the worst fears that we could have. Not to mention the constant think pieces and hashtags and infographics with him at the center. Give him some time. He’ll be fine.”

Luke has been a trending topic since the day of his shooting. Maybe he does only need time. Maybe he’ll snap out of it. But when Alice kidnapped Sophie nearly a year ago, Sophie would wake up from nightmares of being on that beam again. Nightmares where Batwoman didn’t swoop in, or the bomb went off, or Alice simply killed her. Sophie doesn’t have those nightmares much anymore. But sometimes, when she’s really stressed, or feeling extra alone, she can feel the winds whipping around her still.

Sophie clears her throat and clutches her phone a little tighter to her face. “Just keep an eye on him, okay?”

“I’m walking into the Tower right now. We’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

“Says the girl who cried in my arms last week.”

Ryan inhales sharply. “We’re not talking about that.”

Sure thing. They can just gloss over the fact that Ryan sank into Sophie’s arms like it was natural, or that they’d spent nearly ten minutes like that, just holding on and hoping that he would be okay. They’re still holding, even if they won’t admit it.

“Talk to him, Ryan. See if he talks back.”

“I will.”

��.

.

 Ryan puts off having a heart to heart with Luke for a few days. He’s clearly not in the mood. Every time she even tries to talk to him, he shuts her down like it’s her first week in the Bat Team all over again. So, she waits until he’s busy and tries to meet him where he’s at — beating the shit out of the punching bag in the Batcave.

The lights are barely on, so the Cave’s half in shadow. From the moment the elevator descends, all Ryan hears is the thick thud of the punching bag. The quick, hard hits of his bare fists. Luke hops from foot to foot in his fighting stance.

Ryan keeps her voice playful. “Try picking on someone your own size.” She sets him up with that. He’s got quite a few inches on her. He’d called her pocket size a few months back when she tried to show how threatening she could be outside of the suit.

But this version of Luke doesn’t even look at her. His whole body’s glistening with sweat at this point, and he grunts out, “I’m good,” before launching into a quick combo on the bag.

Ryan breezes down the catwalk to get to the training area. Closer now, he looks smaller than he used to. Like he’s not eating and instead spends all his time putting on tank tops and joggers and hiding out from the people who care about him. 

She pops into her own fighting stance a few steps out of the danger zone. 

“Well, I’m really good. I don’t mean to brag, but I am teaching multiple martial arts classes.”

He does a spin kick that sends the bag moving a lot further than it used to. How much time has he been spending down here? What’s he preparing for?

Luke steadies the bag. “I don’t want to fight you, Ryan.”

She takes the pause in his practice to grab the other side of the bag. 

“Don’t worry, I can go easy on you. Since you’re still healing and all.” She offers him a teasing smile. His cue to joke back. It might’ve taken them a while to get there, but Ryan and Luke normally play like siblings. She’s never had a brother before him. She doesn’t want to fight either.

He sighs. “Desert rose healed me all up. It’s like it—” He readjusts the wraps on his hands. Finally, he meets her eyes, and the rage in them contradicts how forcibly still his voice sounds. “It’s like it never happened.”

Ryan says, “That’s a good thing, right? You don’t have to worry about scars come summertime.”

Luke jerks his head to the side to tell her to move. Ryan reluctantly lets the bag go, and he gets back to punching. His breath comes out short, but the way he’s hitting feels emotional. Sporadic and pained.

She takes a shaky breath. “Okay, not a good thing. You seem angry. I get anger. You said yourself that I charge into fights that I know I can’t win, and maybe that’s what I’m doing with you.” She has to talk louder over his increased punching speed. “If you want to fight, then we’ll fight. If you want to scream, then we can scream. But this silent brooding thing isn’t you, Luke.”

His head whips around to face her. The bag nearly hits him back as he scoffs at her. “You’ve known me less than a year. You have no idea who I am. Or what I want.”

She reaches her hands out to him. “Then tell me,” she pleads. “Because I want my friend back.”

The fire in his eyes gives way to something hollow. Something aching. He gulps. “Well, you got him.”

“Don’t sound so sad about it,” she says. His jaw twitches, and his nostrils flare. “Wait…. Are you sad about being back?”

Luke starts unwrapping his hands. “I’m fine, Ryan.”

She crosses over to get directly in his face. “But are you happy? Are you upset? Are you—”

“I’m fine!” he yells. His voice echoes through the Batcave, and Ryan flinches. He takes a second to drop his eyes before storming straight for the elevator. He calls over his shoulder. “You can tell Sophie that too.”

Ryan waits until he’s inside the elevator to reply. “What about Mary? You want me to lie to her too?”

Luke’s face crumbles. Then he steadies it back to stone. “Tell her whatever you want. I can’t stop you.” He flips the switch to leave.

Ryan screams because she knows he’ll hear it. Throws her weight behind a punch that sends the bag rattling on its chain.

 .

.

 “See,” Sophie holds her glass up for Ryan to refill, “I told you.” She frowns as she says it, which does make her normal righteousness less pronounced. The fact that she’s curled into herself on Ryan and Mary’s couch also helps lessen the blow.

Ryan dumps the last of their shared wine bottle into Sophie’s glass before plopping the bottle onto the coffee table. She settles back into her half of the couch.

Mary speaks up from her seat in the comfy chair. “What else can we do? If he’s not talking to any of us, or a therapist, then how are we supposed to get Luke back?”

Sophie shrugs. 

Ryan suggests, “We could reach out to Stephanie. Maybe a nerd date will help Luke feel better.”

Mary says, “Just because you started dating Imani immediately after—”

Ryan cuts in, “I didn’t date her immediately after—”

Mary gets louder. “Yeah, you kind of did. Angelique left on the 3:15 train out of Gotham, and Imani came in at 3:30.” She rubs the tense spot between her eyebrows. “No judgment, but maybe that’s not the answer.”

Ryan glances to Sophie for a little support, but the ex-Crow finds her wine real interesting around then. Ryan should defend herself. She dated Imani to get out of her head. Angelique was her first love, but she and Ang weren’t meant to be each other’s only relationship. Waiting around wouldn’t have changed the fact that Ang was starting a new life. Ryan had to start one too.

She shifts on the couch, so her knees can tuck under her body better. Her leg bumps into Sophie’s, and neither of them make a move to shift away. Sophie stares down at their point of contact.

“Maybe he just needs to know we’re here for him. We keep showing up, and eventually, he’ll have to talk to us.”

Ryan nods. “In that case, you’re up, Mary.”

Mary sighs into her wine. “No pressure, right?”

 .

.

Mary and Luke don’t hang out a ton in the real world. Usually, they’re in the Batcave when they spend time together. Or he helps her at the clinic. So, she figures that she shouldn’t exactly rock the boat too far.

Luke sits down on one of the exam chairs in the clinic. The whole space is empty, with the closed sign on the front door. He shrugs out of his jacket. She tries not to look as nervous as she feels.

“Thanks for coming down.” She wrings her hands before stopping herself and planting them firmly against her sides. “I wanted to see how the desert rose in your blood compares to mine, or Ryan’s. So, uh, it shouldn’t take too long to do the draw.”

Luke nods. “Sure thing.” He rolls the sleeve of his left arm up. “I’m all yours.”

“Right.” She chuckles, but it’s a breathless kind. The kind that she needs to clear her throat to cover.

The tray’s already prepped beside him with the needle and test tubes. She rolls her own chair to stop beside him. It’s honestly the closest they’ve been since he’s gotten out of the hospital. He probably doesn’t even remember her being there. Or what she said about needing him just before he came back. That’s probably too intense of a topic to start with.

She ties a band on his arm to make his veins pop. She wouldn’t need it normally. Luke’s got great veins. Great skin in general. Softer than she’d expect for a guy who spends all his time in the same suit. She actually hasn’t seem him in casual clothes that often, come to think of it. Does he own casual clothes?

Luke chuckles. “You’re thinking pretty hard there. First time?”

Mary springs for the needle. “Ha ha. I just… started thinking about… my dad. Because of veins! And Snakebite. He’s, um… doing better?”

He smiles at her, like actually gives a short glimpse of connection. “That’s really good to hear.”

Mary runs with it. “Yeah, and he’s talking about his feelings. And Alice even warned me that somebody might try to hurt me. It’s weird, and I don’t want Alice as my family, but it’s also nice to not feel super alone….” She pricks him then. His face scrunches for a second, and she watches the vial fill up rather than watching his face. “It’s why I’m so grateful to you and Ryan and Sophie. You’ve been my family through all of this. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Luke’s left arm twitches, but it doesn’t feel like a blood thing. More like he wants to reach out with it. She keeps her eyes low and unlatches the first vial. Grabs the second and lets that one fill too.

Luke says, “I guess it’s different for me. I have my mom, but…. Did you know she calls me every single day for check-ins?” He sounds tired but amused. “She sent me an Amazon link for a bulletproof vest yesterday. Never mind the fact that I run Wayne Tech and have literally made a better one in my sleep.” His jaw trembles. “But I get it. She almost lost me in the same exact way that we lost my dad. I-I almost did that to her.”

Mary scrambles to say, “You didn’t do anything.”

“I would have. If… if the choice were up to me, I would not have come back.” He turns to face Mary again. “A-and I love my mom. And I love our team. But I am so tired of being a part of a world like this.”

Her heart crumbles in her chest. The vial nearly overflows, and she has to grab the third one. Her hands shake as she goes for it. Her voice shakes too. “You sound kind of… schmuicidal when you say stuff like that.”

“I’m not going to kill myself,” he says. He sounds sure of that.

“But you want to die?” she asks.

“I don’t want….” He sighs and rephrases. “I just want to be somewhere else sometimes. And this whole thing has made anywhere else seem better. I mean, I was in a coma, Mary, and they were photoshopping a gun into my hand. Why would I want to be here?”

She stops the blood drawing to hold his hand. “I’m here. And Batwoman is here.”

He balls his fist beneath her grip. “And no one’s checking to see if me or Ryan are a part of the team. I’ve spent my whole life doing things the right way, and I am exhausted.”

Mary lifts her other hand to open his fist. She turns his hand so they can be palm to palm, so she can thread her fingers through his and let him feel where she’s at too. Because she might be exhausted for different reasons, but she’s tired too.

“I think it’s okay to be exhausted. And to want a break. But you can’t let all of this break you. And if it feels like it is, then I’d really like to help hold you together.” She smiles at him, and he glances away to blink some of the tears out of his eyes. She lifts her voice to add on, “Preferably with the help of a licensed psychological professional.”

“You’re not licensed, and you save lives.” He squeezes the hand in hers. “You saved me.”

Mary nods. “True, but an actual therapist could help you talk through this stuff without you feeling like you’re going to be judged, or a burden — which you’re not.” She practically scoots out of her seat to be closer to him. Her knees knock into the side of his chair, and she would totally feel ridiculous if not for the fact that he angles his body towards her too. “God, Luke, I am so glad that you’re talking to me. I want to know how you feel and what you’re going through. But I also know that a therapist can put this in a perspective that I can’t. So please consider talking to one?”

He holds her stare for a moment. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Next time you want to talk, you just take me to dinner instead of taking my blood.”

Mary laughs, and Luke laughs too. “Deal.”

 .

.

 Luke’s in the bathroom when Mary texts the girl group chat. 

Mary to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 He sounds better. We’re getting dinner and hopefully he’s getting a therapist.

 Sophie to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 Great job, Mary.

 Ryan to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 That’s my girl! Or Luke’s girl? 👀

 Sophie to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 Ryan, they’re just getting dinner

 Ryan to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 For now ;)

 Mary leaves them on read and stuffs her phone back into her purse. Luke comes back out of the bathroom, drying his hands on a paper towel. “Ready to go?”

Mary nods. “Yeah, we’ll find our way back.” It’s the only choice they have.

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a/n: The hopelessness that Luke feels in this episode and the near constant mix of emotions feel so true to my experiences over the last few years. one thing that they have gotten very right are different aspects of these Black experiences. There’s a lot to work through, and I’ve found that therapy and leaning on friends has been real helpful. Hope that Luke gets that too. Hope that you all have that as well.

Let me know how you’re feeling, re: this, or this season. Talk to me, Gotham. I’ll talk back.

[babysizedfics]

*slides you some monopoly money from inside a blanket burrito* one of your finest fluffy concepts please (tip available if it feels like a hug)

thank u for the snack!! *noms the money*

okAy so we know that logan and roman love playing make-believe together

roman for obvious reasons yknow, creative performative dressup

but logan because did you see how eager he was to dress up like sherlock holmes and impersonate a robot in the puppet episode? plus he's a doctor who nerd

my man loves silly pretend play

they somehow manage to make everything into a make believe game

when logan needs to do the laundry but roman is bored, they pretend they are experimental scientists adding different chemicals (detergent and softener) to big subterfuge machines (the washing machine)

i know nothing about science pls dont judge that detail too hard

when roman hasnt been outside all day and logan wants to convince him to go outside they are now archeologists in an excavation site (the backyard) looking for fossils (helping patton deweed the flower bed)

moving onto my other headcanon

roman and logan love playing with building toys together! and will even build with things youre not meant to build with

im talking elaborate grecian inspired architecture built with jenga blocks

(logan loves the history and engineering of it, roman loves the grandness and beauty of it)

and they get k'nex!!! its a toy building thingy

and patton actually bought it for them because he was a tiny little incy wincy ickle bit annoyed that they used all the sugar cubes to create a scale replica of buckingham palace one day when it was raining

and logan wants to adhere to the instructions of course (left) and roman wants to go BIG BOLD UNPRECEDENTED (right)

so of course they reach some sort of compromise that isn't boring but that won't take up half the living room floor and be a safety hazard

logan starts by laying out all of the pieces in categories and in groups of five which makes it easier for roman to picture what he can do with the materials since he is a visual thinker

when they are building it they work together better than they ever have before, theres no arguments, only throwing ideas around

and roman is of course little so he is very excitable and bouncy and usually he is better with the more intricate jobs but logan takes over since roman is just so excited that he's shaking a tiny bit

and roman gets pouty when he can't get a .. long thingy to fit into the..... the corner thingy (shh im not an engineer)

and logan rlly gently takes it and says 'here, little prince. if you pinch it a little' *slots them together* 'it slots in easily'

and roman is like :0

and logan realises roman is actually subconsciously copying him a bit!

so logan will be standing back from their work and scratching the stubble at his chin in thought

then when roman poses a solution, logan looks over and sees that roman is in the exact pose that logan is standing in but the little prince doesnt even notice hes doing it

and internally logan knows its just a subconscious sign that youre comfortable with someone

but it still makes him think about children who copy their parents to learn

and maybe just maybe he squeeze romans shoulder and pulls him into a little half hug before they go back to the build

then virgil wakes up from his afternoon nap!! no he isnt a baby, adult virge just likes sleeping

patton is out running errands so virgil chills in the living room and shyly sits crosslegged to watch them

and romans littleness is just too infectious it doesnt take long before virgil is now baby vee and he's sucking his thumb and reaching to his mama for cuddles

and roman is a bit sad when logan picks vee up and takes him upstairs to get changed because he thinks when they get back lo will be focussed on vee

but when they return with vee all diapered up in his little clothes, logan places him by their feet on the carpet and gives him a smooch on the cheek then stands back up to keep playing with roman!!

and that REALLY excited the little prince so he starts rambling to vee about how cool the roller coaster is gonna be and how him and mom did it together cos roman is a big boy

and logan adds 'and you're very smart'

and romans face splits with a grin 'a-and - and i - and-and im really smart!!!!'

virgil is pretty happy just watching because he has a rattle and honestly that could keep him entertained for hours

but at one point roman needs a piece and they realise vee, being the otter pup he is, has claimed the piece and is holding it protectively to his chest (its been there for half an hour)

and roman really needs it but virgil whines and starts tearing up when roman tries to take it from him

so logan suggests 'vee do you want to help? do you want to be like your big brother?'

and virgils eyes liight up and he bounces in his seat

'roman can you show your little brother how to do it?'

and logan has to lift vee up because he is in too young a headspace to stand on his own, and roman is guiding virgils hands gently to put the piece on (its more roman doing it really)

but roman whispers 'vee i know a really clever secret. you gotta squeeze it a little' *slots the piece in and smiles at virgil* 'then it goes in better!'

and logan has a little moment

because roman listened to him and is replicating logans behaviour and it means that roman is comforted by logan and is trying to do the same for vee

and logan doesnt fricking care anymore he plants a big kiss on romans head

when it's finished they are nervous to see if it works and they pretend they let virgil switch on the motor because hes the baby but its also a bit because logan and roman are nervous that it wont work

but it does!! the little cars go along the whole thing and do cool loopdy loops and all!!

they NYOOM!!!

and they all cheer and have massive smiles because seriously no one is immune to that feeling of satisfaction when the dominoes all tumble or the jenga tower falls or the k'nex cars zoom along the track

and logan looks at how excited roman is and 'you did it little prince!'

and roman chants 'we did it we did it we did it!' and launches at logan for a tight hug

[hilarieburtonmorgan]

The Walking Dead Q&A — Hilarie Burton Morgan On Why Lucille Would Love Lucille The Bat

Hilarie Burton Morgan, who plays Negan's wife Lucille on The Walking Dead, talks about working with her real-life husband Jeffrey Dean Morgan for the first time and her extended walker scene.

Q: You've called it a "joy" working with your husband. What made the experience so great?

A: I have been with Jeffrey for 12 years now and we have so many friends from all the different jobs that we've had and so I have a pretty good sense of who he is on set, but we've never been able to act together before and that could have gone bad. But, to my delight, it really didn't. I didn't realize how similar we are on set. I think, over the course of our careers, we've both had to handle some pretty heavy subject matter, and so, in between takes, we both like to laugh and we like to keep the crew in good spirits and joke around with them and keep the set really light. And so, even though we were tackling very serious subject matter in this episode, we really had a very good time together. We've been in quarantine with our children for a year and so being able to work together on set was kind of like a date. It was the most grown-up time we've had since February of last year. And it was just so nice to meet all the people that he's been working with for the last five years. I would hear about them, but they see more of him than I do, so it was really lovely to get to know everybody. Any expectations I had, the actual experience far exceeded them.

Q: I understand it can sometimes be hard to be a guest star on a TV show, but how was your experience as a guest star in this case, since you were already familiar with the show's cast and crew?

A: My career has always been a little bit of a departure from the norm. I haven't auditioned in years. I like to work with people I know and I'm a terrible auditioner and so my work is all dependent on pre-existing relationships, whether that's an actor I've worked with before who recommends me or a producer or a director that says, "Hey, I worked with Hilarie Burton once. She can handle this." And so what it means is every job I do is incredibly special because it means someone else put their reputation on the line to vouch for me. So when this phone call came through that they wanted me to play Lucille, the fact that my husband vouched for me and put a very big episode in my hands and that Angela [Kang] and Scott [Gimple] vouched for me and that The Walking Dead world as a whole celebrated it and were really, really kind and welcoming — it's definitely the most special job that I've ever done because of all of those connections. So in a career of really wonderful friendships and jobs that have come through personal relationships, this one definitely takes the cake.

Q: Negan once told Michonne that Lucille was weak and wouldn't have survived the apocalypse, but is that true? Lucille seems very tough and steely in this episode, like when she shoots the walker while hooked up to an I.V.

A: I think that by Negan admitting that, that perhaps shows a great deal of growth. He is in a lot of denial about the state of her illness during the episode and so, by acknowledging so many years after that she wouldn't have survived the apocalypse, [that] she did need more rounds of chemotherapy than he was admitting, I think that shows growth, and certainly that's part of this episode is understanding the humanity of someone who was such a big villain. And so now we can look at that admission from him in hindsight to say, "Oh man, he's been thinking about this every single day for a decade, however long it's been."

Q: That's true. She is strong in that moment and is probably a strong person overall, but she was very sick.

A: Her strength was a very important thing for me because so many times in film and in television when someone is diagnosed with an illness, whether it be cancer or something else, usually for women they then get kind of softened into these angelic, ethereal creatures. And in my life I have a number of women — some of them are still with us, some of them are no longer with us — who were tough broads. They were badasses and, when they were diagnosed, they didn't stop being outspoken or hilarious or rough-and-tumble. They just had this other obstacle that they needed to conquer, and so I loved the way Lucille was written because she wasn't written like a flower. This was a tough woman who could handle anything and really understood the gravity of her situation.

Q: How was it playing the moment when Lucille told Negan she had cancer?

A: Well, they laughed at me after the first take because I guess the way I said it — in my mind all of the things that she wanted to say of "you've been a real a--hole, you cheated on me with my best friend, you haven't been there for me throughout this entire diagnosis," all of that had to come through in three words: "I have cancer." And so when I said it, after they yelled "cut," people started laughing. They're like, "God, it's like you're saying f--k you," and I was like, "Yeah, that's what I'm saying." The intent of those words weren't to elicit sympathy; it's an accusation.

Q: What was it like getting to reanimate as a walker, which seems like the quintessential experience on The Walking Dead?

A: The guys in special effects are so cool. They're so cool! They teased me a little bit because they're like, "We've never had anyone sit in this chair who was so excited to become a walker." Usually when a member of the cast dies, there's a bittersweet element to it, but because we've always known the fate of Lucille and there was never any hope for her sticking around for extra episodes, turning into a walker was something that was very exciting for me. I was a kid in a candy store. I never get to do that kind of work and so the fact that they let me do it was exciting. And then Jeffrey didn't want to see me. He really wanted that first reaction where Negan takes the bag off Lucille's head to be genuine, so that was an experience and I had to hide from him and then he was genuinely rattled. And our poor kids, I popped into the house after I got all the makeup done to say hello before I had to go to set and our daughter was just like, "Mom, are you okay? Mom you look sick." I was like, "Yeah, just a little."

Q: And you got to be a walker on screen for quite a few minutes.

A: What was so nice is the way it was scheduled. I'm meeting most of my husband's co-workers for the first time, and so, the very first day that I filmed with him, they let me look like a normal person. It was all the stuff where Lucille comes downstairs and is screaming at him while he's playing video games, and so I think that endeared me to the crew right off the bat. They're like, "Who's this little blonde girl screaming at Jeffrey Dean?" And so we had fun that day but my last day was the walker day, so we really got to go all out and have lots of fun and then light the house on fire.

Q: Your walker scene was so poignant.

A: That's a testament to my husband's performance. Jeffrey had so much heavy lifting to do in this episode. He had to play three different characters. He had to play pre-apocalypse Negan. He had to play Leather Jacket Negan from when we first met him. And then he had to play current-day Negan. And those are three very different people. And so, in that last scene, where he takes the bag off my head and he has to process all of that, the work he puts into his job is always something that I love about him and it was really wonderful to see firsthand.

Q: How do you think Lucille would feel about Negan naming his bat after her? And also her part in putting him in that leather jacket?

A: Girlfriend would love it! That's the thing about Lucille is that, like I said, she's not a flower. I think she has a morbid sense of humor like her husband. It's probably what attracted them to one another. And she wanted him to survive. If Lucille had a dying wish, it's that Negan would survive and thrive, and he did for a very long time and I think he will again. And as his real-life wife, that's my hope. I like watching a thriving Negan. And, by the way, he's right most of the time... So, I'm Team Negan.