#or ill just blunder my way through it but okay

[ravenwraithe]

i was writing a pavitr prabhakar centric fic from hobie pov bc a little chaipunk goes a long way but butbut

i was trying to write hobie's cockney accent (like yeah how yall write an accent ) and now i can decently imitate a cockney accent but i still haven't got a clue on how to write it

[sirthisisa-wendys]

One Wall Over: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: you’re new in the neighborhood, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get a warm welcome from your duplex buddy. 

wc: 3k

tw: nsfw, smut, annoying noises at five am, the works 

a/n: ahhhhhhhhh! I am so excited to be taking part in this collab with @suna-reversed reversed for a super sexy jjk collab! Please check out the masterlist for the collab here and the other authors! SO EXCITED TO READ THE OTHERS! (The other title I had for this work is “First of All, How Dare You” because that’s literally me every time I see my hubby Suguru, but anywho!).

Moving in was a bitch. 

For the first time ever, you have no roommates, no parents, and no pets - just you and your meager belongings moving into the little, two-story duplex a friend allowed you to sublet. As you stare out of the window facing the sparse front lawn, you wonder what your neighbor is like. They hadn’t come to welcome you to the home, but you knew they existed by the sound of the bass through your shared wall at five am every morning. 

You assume they’re male or a couple, but you’ve never gotten a chance to see them with your own two eyes.  So you kept a lookout day after day. At exactly four p.m., you would sit across from the window with a book and keep watch, the sun streaming in and illuminating your figure and crossed legs anchored on the window sill. But day after day, you wouldn’t see anything. The neighbor’s car wouldn’t even move an inch from the previous day. Everything would remain the same until the next day when you took your perch by the window. 

It isn’t until you’re out on your front lawn, slaving over the flowers you maintained for a whole month - a new record - that the sleek Range Rover drives up to the garage on your neighbor’s side of the house. At first, you don’t notice it, your eyes firmly planted on the soil at the root of your orchid tree. But then you hear a car door slam, and you look up, watching for the person who would be exiting the vehicle. 

A tall, black haired man slides out of the truck and slams the door shut, his locks tucked into a half bun and a white towel resting around his rippling shoulders. He slides his keys into his gym shorts and turns to walk into the house, barely noticing you on the front lawn in an ill-fitting t-shirt and dirty yoga pants. 

He’s halfway to his front door when you find your voice and yell out, “Hey, neighbor!” You wave your hand at him in hopes that he would return the gesture, but you’re sorely disappointed when he only looks your way with disinterest and walks into the house without speaking. You frown at the encounter, hoping that he would return a little while later and explain his lack of manners, but he doesn’t, and you retreat into the house once more. 

______________________________________________________________________

“Unzzz, unzz, unzzzz…” Both eyes fly open at the sound of the bass on the other side of your bedroom wall, the sudden noise jarring you from your sleep. 

“Ugh…” Your eyes slide to the white numbers on the clock face, which politely remind you that it’s five-fifteen AM. Don’t confront him, don’t confront him. You wrap the pillow around your ears, hoping the gentle cushion would block out the sound. But for some reason, it gets even louder, and a groan escapes your lips. There were only two more hours for you to rest, but at this rate, you’d be up until it was time for you to wake and get ready for work. That just wouldn’t do. 

The grey sweatpants deposited on the floor the night before are quickly jerked on, and you pad to the front door, not caring about your appearance as you walk the length of the porch over to his front door. Inhaling, you find the will to bring your fist up and pound on the door, hoping the sound would be angrier than you actually felt. Fear ate at your nerves while you waited. A few agonizing moments later, the door is yanked open, music floods outside, and your neighbor stands before you in just a pair of black sweatpants. Nothing else. 

“What?” he gripes, sweat rolling down his forehead. As your eyes take in the full sight of him, you wonder what kind of sculpted god you had for a neighbor. You could even faintly see the v that would culminate in the bulge near the crotch area of the pants, which apparently is quite--

“Uh…” You had entirely forgotten what you had come over to his side of the house for, but as he leans on the doorframe and gives you a withering stare, you suddenly remember your complaint. “Your wall is next to my bedroom. Can you turn your music down?” You place a hand on your hip, trying to seem more inconvenienced than you actually were in that moment. 

“Yeah, sure.” He shuts the door in your face, and you trudge back over to your side of the house, hoping the music would soften. 

But for some reason, you swear he turns it up even louder. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Why don’t you just call the landlord and make a noise complaint?” your friend wonders over the phone, the sound of a frying pan in the background slightly overshadowing her voice.

“But you said you didn’t have any problems with him, Mariela.” 

“Yeah, Geto was nice enough and didn’t bother me much. Not sure why he’s being such an ass now.” You hear an oh, shit on the other end, and Mariela hisses into the receiver, “Hey, y/n, I have to go; the risotto is burning. Call me back if you have any other issues, okay?” 

“Okay.” You hang up and toss your phone on your desk, trying to focus on the words in front of you but failing as the sound of the bass filters through the other side of the wall again. For the fourth day in a row, you’ve been subjected to the sound of pure noise coming through the other side. Tonight was absolutely not the night, mostly because you had a presentation that took you all night to finish, and the clamor was interrupting your prep work for the bright and early eight o’clock meeting. You feel like Squidward, subjecting yourself to the endless noises from the grunting to the bass to the sound of weights clanking back into place. 

It’s the sound of Geto’s groaning that sets you on edge the most. If it weren’t for the added noise of weights, you’d be convinced he was fucking someone. There was no way he could make so much noise and not know that he was disturbing your peace. Hadn’t he ever heard of headphones? 

You snatch up your set of earbuds on your desk, place them in your ears, and try to turn up lofi music as loud as it will go. But that doesn’t work. Even relocating to the living room didn’t seem to fare you well, and you wonder if he truly had cranked up the music higher than before just to annoy the hell out of you. Finally, you toss your earbuds down and slam your computer on your coffee table. 

You’d had enough. 

Stomping over to the front door, you fling it open and bang on Geto’s door, hoping he would answer it in a rage so you could let out your frustrations. But when the door flies open, he’s dressed in only a pair of gym shorts, this time the outline of his dick even more apparent. But you’re not focused on that. You point a finger at him and inhale to begin your tirade; sick and utterly over his shit.

“Hey! Can you fucking turn it down?” Geto stretches out a hand, and for a minute you think he’s going to grab you by the shirt, but he pulls you inside by the wrist, crushing you against his chest. “What the hell?” You push away from his sweaty chest, backing into the closed door harshly. 

“Lower your damn voice; the neighbors will hear,” he chastises, and turns away from you to grab the water bottle on the counter. The muscled man takes a long swig, then wipes his face with the towel right next to it. 

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but I’ve never been so disrespected in my li--” As you talk, he’s advancing on you, pushing back his long black hair back behind his ears and getting too close for comfort. Once he’s right up on you, you gulp hard, fully intimidated by his size and stature. The music suddenly stops, and you’re left in silence. 

“I’m listening,” he mutters, staring down at you. “Please, continue.” 

“I was saying…” your throat dries up. “What I meant was…” Your eyes travel from his chest to his navel, and then to the hand pressed against the doorframe.

“Uh huh…” He nods, squinting his black eyes at you. “You said you’ve ‘never been more disrespected in your’… life, right?” You don’t reply. Rather, you can’t reply. All of the words you could have ever said are now gone from your skull. “I highly doubt that, y/n.” 

“H-how…” 

“You’re Mariela’s friend. I’ve seen you quite a few times before you moved in here. Never thought I’d be living so close to you, though. Mariela’s subletting, isn’t she?” 

All of these questions. And you can’t reply to a single one because he’s practically squeezing you between the door and his rock-hard abs. Or are you pressing yourself against the door to get away from the heat emitting from his body - oh, fuck; you don’t know. 

“But I had to get your attention somehow.” The admission startles you so bad that you accidentally knock the back of your head against the door, touching the point of contact in pain and hissing slightly. Geto hums at your blunder, then pushes off of the wall to turn away from you. As he rotates, you catch a glimpse of his erection, now fully apparent in the atrocity that is his shorts. “The yard work wasn’t effective, the trips to the gym and back barely worked; shit, by now I would’ve thought you would throw yourself at me the first chance you got. I guess I had to make you mad enough to confront me.” 

“You literally looked at me and said nothing the first time I saw you!” you retort, throwing your hands up in the air. “Then you almost bit my head off the first time I came over to tell you the music was too loud.” 

“I didn’t expect you to come over the first time. Besides, I couldn’t figure out anything smooth enough in that short amount of time.” Geto shrugs, his shoulder muscles moving like water in the dim lighting of the living room. You look around at the furnishings, noting his impeccable taste in wood and red suede in conjunction with his minimal exercise equipment. “Coffee? You look like you’ve been up for a while.” He leans over a coffee-maker - one of those fancy ones that you’ve seen on TV - and slides a plain coffee cup into the holder. 

“Uh, no thanks.” You turn to the door and begin to open it, but Geto clicks his tongue thrice. 

“You’re just going to leave without getting what you came for?”

You pause for a moment, then turn back to look him over once. “Don’t you mean what you brought me over here for?” A lazy smile spreads across his face, and that’s when you realize that he’s charming, but not necessarily as suave as you first imagined. You shut the door and walk over to him, examining his physique as if you hadn’t just helped yourself to his tall, statuesque figure already. He allows you to look him over, eyes dedicatedly following you.

“Like what you see, doll?” You don’t get a chance to answer as he pulls you into his chest with a smooth movement, then presses his lips against yours. You instantly open your mouth so he can slide his tongue inside, and he does so without hesitation. Hands grasp at your flimsy night shirt, pulling it over your shoulders as he backs you up against the wall, hiking one leg up and wrapping the other around his waist. 

As both of your hands tangle in hair, fabric, sweat, you wonder how long - just how long - he’s wanted to do this. But your train of thought is rudely interrupted by his lips trailing kiss down your neck and to your collarbone, where he pauses for a second, catching his breath. Fingers dance through his locks and he peers up at you for a second, drinking in your flushed expression and breathy exhales. 

“Geto, please, I--” You’re silenced again by his lips, his thick fingers rolling past the waistband of your night shorts and right to your core, where he nestles them into your heat with ease. 

“Goddamn…” The rumbling of his voice vibrates against your chest, and you gasp, feeling every stroke of his fingers inside of you. “So fucking wet… just for me.” Your vision narrows in on the black eyes watching your every move, the angle of your face, the way you tilt your chin to the side and shakily exhale. Everything is perfect. Maybe even better than he imagined at first. But you don’t know that, and you really don’t care to know. All you want is release and for that release to be at Geto’s hands. When he removes his fingers and hoists you onto the suede couch, your first reaction is to cry out in shock. 

His hands roll your shorts down to your knees and then press your legs open, spreading you for him to examine. 

“You’re a mess down there… perhaps I should help you clean up.” 

“Huh?” The double entendre is completely lost on you in the heat of the moment. You watch as he leans down, then moves to lick your core with a flat tongue, stroking up before he goes down again and repeats his action twice. Your head finds the soft cushion of the pillow in ecstasy, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

Geto hums down below, fully appreciating your taste before sucking on your clit, hard. You yelp, shooting up, but his hand presses you back down, eyes still closed. Fingers make their way up to your breasts, tugging at your nipples leisurely before tightening and pulling with more tension. “Oh, god, please���” Your hands find his head, and at the sudden application of pressure, he grunts again. And you’re left there in agonizing pleasure, dangling between an orgasm and a build-up of pressure, one stroke away from tumbling into the cavern of blissful unawareness. 

Geto stops without warning, pulling back to watch you as he still tweaks your nipples with varying degrees of firmness. You tug at his shorts in a silent plea for him to discard them, and he waits a minute before sliding them off wordlessly. His length is impressive, you note, his cock springing free from his shorts and angled upwards a little. A condom is produced just as quickly, and he rolls it over himself before spreading you a little wider to accommodate his length. When he nudges his cock at your slit, you realise he’s a little breathless and shaking, but that all goes to the back of your mind when he slides inside of you with little resistance. 

“Fuck, doll, that’s--” He groans just as you moan, both of you relishing the expanding feeling. “God, that’s perfect.” You whimper at his praise and bring your hands to his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he begins to pump into you. Geto’s lips find your neck and he sucks a hickey on your left side, placing another one neatly below it while his hands cup your ass. 

“Does that feel good?” He whispers and you nod, completely at a loss for words. But soon, it’s not enough, and your fingers dig into his back. He’s fucking you slowly… too slowly. 

“M-more,” you whine, and he delivers his thrusts faster, pumping into you and moaning loudly. Your fingers find his face and angles it towards your raised head so you can kiss him on the lips. He offers you that mercy - a deep, languid kiss - while he plows into you with abandon. Pleasure is the only thing on your minds - you just so happen to have found it in each other’s arms - and your orgasm is just within reach.

“Geto, I’m close…” His response to your words is to lift your left leg a little higher so it practically hung off the couch and in the air, deeping his strokes until they settled against your cervix, like someone tapping a soft rhythm into your stomach. “Shit, like that.” 

“Yeah?” he exhales, looking at your face with a blissed-out expression, his cheeks reddening. You raise your hips to meet his with each thrust, hoping your orgasm would arrive before Geto came. There isn’t much you can do though, besides writhe beneath him and pull him closer to you, thereby making you and him almost inseparable. He’s merely rocking into your hips now, cock barely rolling out of you as before. And you can’t deny that it feels like heaven, not when you’ve been so frustrated for so long. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Geto hisses into your mouth, and you nod, constricting a little to urge him on. What you fail to realize is that the constriction was just what you need to tumble over into the abyss of thoughtlessness, and your mouth opens to let loose a guttural moan as Geto fucks you faster and faster, chasing his own orgasm on the heels of yours. “Oh, shit,” Your neighbor sinks into you one final time, shooting his cum into the condom, but pumping in stuttered strokes as if he were really letting loose inside of you. 

When you both fall from the heights of your sex-induced high, shoulders and heads are draped where there is comfort and space, little exhales from his mouth fanning across your breasts. Geto lifts off of your sweaty chest and looks you in the eyes before breathing: 

“Maybe I should start my days with this instead of a workout.”

[patchdotexe]

OKAY. UM. so it's been Literally Like A Year Or Two since i last talked about Rescue in any detail (?!) so you guys get some unhinged rambling about furries

...UNDER THE CUT, BECAUSE THIS GOT LONG.

Sol, he/him: woke up one day in a weird abandoned lab with no idea how he got there or literally anything at all. and then found out that thanks to Dubious Science he is now unable to be killed. which is very cool except for the "i dont know where i am, apparently i've been missing for HALF A YEAR, and also now my blood is BLUE????" thing. originally stressed, sarcastic, and distrustful, but once he's in a safer environment he turns out to be warm-hearted if awkward and has trouble expressing his feelings. technically undead. Rescue's set in 2017ish so he's, like. 20. likes spicy food, space, and Sonic; dislikes bright red, jello, and sticky things.

Zyd, she/her: fellow lab experiment with a lot of knowledge on the projects the lab was undertaking before being abruptly abandoned. fills Sol in on the whole "yeah you can't be killed anymore, have fun with that" thing, has a more extreme form of it where she literally can't feel pain but regenerates super quickly. comes off as very self-confident and driven, but is actually exhausted and wants to go back to a normal life as much as Sol does. this rabbit has trauma. likes horror movies, loud music she can yell along to, and citrus; dislikes being touched (with exceptions), harsh noise, and shirts.

Tank, she/they/he: literally just kinda Shows Up, does terribly at getting in Sol's good books, and is just kinda running around Causing Problems on accident. initial impression of being airheaded and naive, but that starts to crack eventually bc it turns out they're an anxious mess with a super low opinion of herself. oops! also they broke in but are very avoidant on Why. manages to blunder her way into becoming good friends with Sol afterwards. likes rhythm games (bonds with Sol over them), speedcore, and shrimp; dislikes getting talked over, romcoms, and needles.

Monty, he/him: third member of the Lab Experiment Gang, although Sol doesn't get to meet him for a while due to Tank knocking things off course. chronically ill and willingly volunteered hoping it'd help, became friends with Zyd, and then things went Terribly Wrong. nonverbal. prefers communicating through text (they confiscated his phone). was a theater kid. i BARELY talk about him and he didnt pass the sexy lamp test for an uncomfortable amount of time despite his friendship with Zyd being incredibly important. likes gardening, Portal, and trashy YA fantasy; dislikes bananas.

CY, they/them: WHERE. IS MY ART OF THEM. DID I SERIOUSLY NOT SAVE RECENT STUFF INTO THE RESCUE FOLDER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA okay uh. CY is a hostile AI and the reason why the lab got abandoned - everything's in lockdown until they can figure out how to neutralize them, which is difficult when they've basically evolved into a virus that's taken over the lab's network and is trying to break through to the outside world. there is a lot more to them but they're kind of a mess. could probably be a notITG SRT villain.

Griffin, he/him: android assistant that is completely unaware the lab is abandoned because, like. the experiments patients are still there! somebody's gotta look after them! was very much not programmed to handle any of this and so is constantly frazzled and would like everyone to stop trying to break out, please. would also like everyone to stop trying to break IN, PLEASE, YES THAT MEANS YOU TANK. Zyd is very friendly with him, Sol has no idea what to make of him, CY fucking hates him. he's a... cat... dragon.. robot... thing..?

Seb: they/them, was named Sandblast until literally 5 minutes ago (originally was a Soundscapes character so theyre named after a song but got ported into Rescue years ago and i. never changed their name). trying very, Very hard to balance Griffin out, not really succeeding. has a lot of guilt about basically everything and is just trying to keep everything running smoothly. quiet and nervous. Wow I Wonder Which Leo Designed This Guy (it was pat)

there's also at least 3 more guys but one of them doesn't have proper art yet (Aloe, "sibling" to Seb and just kinda vibing her way through the whole situation), one of them barely has info at all and might be a backstory character, and the third one needs a huge overhaul. i swear to god ill do proper work on anybody that isn't the main trio (sol/zyd/tank) and CY someday

[wizzycore]

the thing about karamelle is that it tries to have 2 separate plots going on at once and it fails. the Cabal plotline (the disappearance of the Old One) and the Corporate plotline (the strikes and unions and propaganda and whatnot). The plots are so utterly disconnected. You can explain one without even mentioning the other. as a young author, i can tell you: that is BAD WRITING. Things need to connect. Plotlines must be weaved together like rope, not simply placed side by side like hay.

like, at least Zafaria's individual plot (finding the missing students) connects to the overall plot of Arc 2 (stopping morganthe), because Morganthe actively split the students up and kidnapped the Prince to recover something that'd aid her in her own goals. As you quest through the world you slowly discover how deep her influence runs, and slowly piece together her plot. It builds her as a villain, albeit only subtly.

oh yeah for sure like this is mad well written, (your ask i mean) i just really fucking hate zafaria because im a hater. im sorry to morganthe im just a little hater. idk something about fighting the elephant guy a billion times and also the weird way zafaria gets treated by the narrative (whitely) just makes me not like it.

see heres the thing i actually had a BETTER time there in zafaria than im having so far here. also thank you everybody for being very courteous about not spoiling the dip-end of karamelle for me! i appreciate u all very much for being careful.

anywho, you're exactly right! hell i didn't even think about how much the two plots do not mesh at all i was too busy burning with rage about the way yw was absolutely just jerked around thruout it so far.

OH, yeah, so! LOOOONG rant below. ill just cap it under a read below. here we go.

soooo MY personal gripe with the writing of karamelle so far is just....... it both assumes the player is extremely smart and extremely stupid -- things that have been explained by characters (example - GRETA) in one moment is immediately ignored for the next 20 quests because the story assumes you didn't read it, and makes the wizard look like a total idiot. but THEN, because we no longer have the anchor of a narrator (which, though it doesn't, in my heart makes this feel sooo much messier), we're left to try and divulge information from so many unreliable narrators, so often that we're left with genuinely Nothing to work with in EITHER plot. I *really* wanted to be a part of both plots! I gave them both such a chance! And the old one/cabal plot TRIES to be a faux-murder mystery, but it doesn't follow up on that because it drunkenly falls into the unionizing plot (i.e the frankly obnoxious half-truths that von trap seems obsessed with dropping before leaving) instead of delivering meanful information to the player!!!!!

there was one moment where i genuinely said, "okay, yw cannot be doing this, are we hypnotized right now?" and my friend said, "no, but i appreciate your leaps to try and make this make sense", and then seconds later we heard a piece of dialogue that genuinely made them think "no, maybe you're right". i just. god. this world seems like it had such good BONES, is the thing!

i think another place where this paradoxical player is smart/player is stupid blunder occurs is in actually just the delivery of the themes of the unionization plot. every post ive seen so far seems to talk about this the most LOL. like........ the themes could NOT be more hamfisted. its sort of as though they expected that the market they were writing for in arc 1 had to suddenly digest themes with a level of complexity that the audience for arc 3 was used to. except arc 1 writing was literally more complex than this.

ACTUALLY, i take that back. the writing in karamelle IS complex -- but i mean that INCREDIBLY derogatorily. the writing is complex because its convoluted, because we're handfed so many dead-ends and lies in the haste to try and MAKE the player understand that this is a propaganda driven society (DESPITE the fact that in the past "propaganda" such as the old one existing in the first place or, say, grandfather spider being real (stretch) were true) that the story just handwaves away from the INCREDIBLY obvious, child-media level of obvious, themes and tries to direct the player towards some bullshit they won't need 10 levels from then, just in an ATTEMPT at complexity.

not to stan empryea, but im going to compare really quickly to the nimbus section of empryea. nimbus has the same bones as karamelle does. two groups, both giving false information, interfering and fucking with the player at every moment. but from the MOMENT you enter nimbus you can feel somethings off (and, actually, we in my discord server were somewhat dissatisfied with how long it took to uncover what we had already figured out) (and secondly, it's less in your face than karamelle. good lord.) and the buildup is TANGIBLE. the discovery of clues as to what happened to sparck and his parents, what side people are truly on, and what their plans are, are CONSISTENT. they are SOMEWHAT SUBTLE. and they build up to something EMOTIONAL and IMPORTANT to the PLAYER (bat!! the chains!!). nimbus does, admittedly, do its share of thinking the player is stupid -- but it doesn't IMPEDE the story. the red herrings given are distracting but in a way that makes sense narratively.

AND!!!! the themes of the effects of militarism, the conflict between science and religion or magic, the themes of blood and what that means, they aren't as CRAMMED down the players throat. you are free to interpret the events, to understand them and what they mean underneath the setting, and most importantly to understand what they mean for the player!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AUGHHH!!!! and the only time they fail at this is sacrificing complexity for comedy (niles) (but its funny so it gets a pass).

karamelle, i gotta say, takes all the minor flaws of the nimbus storyline and cranks them up to ten, and then adds a couple more on for good measure.

and (my last rant point) karamelle just. Isn't Enjoyable. Even if you look past all of the story blunders, even if you look past the age old "ah, the first world of any arc isn't necessarily going to be perfect", even if you look past the INCREDIBLY crammed in theme conveying.... karamelle isnt fun!!!!! the (as my dnd dm friend says) railroading is a constant frustration, the locations are dreary (purposeful, yes, but to push a point the audience ALREADY UNDERSTANDS!!!!!), and it feels as though you can take no action that counts whatsoever. your hand is dragged by von trap more than your hand has ever been dragged before. all of the folktale and fairytale references are simple headnods at most and never incorporated very much into the story, and the locations that are fun to look at you never stay in very long.

i understand that the story is meant to be heavy, but the khrysalis storyline is said to be the heaviest one ever executed, and yet you feel engaged and BOPPING to the storybeats all the way through. (well, if you can get through all of the quests.) (luckily, in a pure force of hyperfixation, i stayed engaged and boppin the whole time). and, i realize that this may be a reaction to what fans felt were what they liked least about, say, mellori -- the excessive comical relief. well, in karamelle, i feel as though they struggled to find a middle point. not just in comedy but in immersion, in creativity, and in the level of enjoyment the average player might have.

soooo. yeah.

[skye-huntress]

Ice Queendom Dub Reaction

Episode 4: “Ice Queendom”

Just a quick note that I acknowledge the recent controversy. Maybe I will say my piece on it some other time, but for the time being I have decided I will still support RWBY and creators behind it. So until RWBY is finished or actually cancelled, I will remain subscribed, and for the record I was not interested in RT’s other shows.

Love to see Ruby geek out over the dream version of Crescent Rose. Again, I have to remind myself that Weiss’ subconscious deliberately altered Ruby’s weapon in an attempt to help and guide her.

I can’t tell if it is in my head or not, but sometimes I think I can sense a hint of frustration in Shion’s voice when talking to Ruby, which is completely fair. We’ve all already done the jokes about how quickly Ruby went through her coins.

So we’re calling them “breadcrumbs” now? Okay?

Also on the White Fang, I’ve come to realise that how they are portrayed in Weiss’ dream is actually probably fairly normal. They don’t wear Grimm masks to be portrayed as freedom fighters, most of them chose to embrace the identities of monsters. The only difference with Weiss compared to most people is that she makes the comparison out of hatred instead of fear. When Blake’s Nightmare took over, she became more monstrous while the White Fang stayed the same, just under her control, suggesting that Blake in part viewed them (and herself) in a similar way. Then you compare that to Weiss’ dream version of Blake and its not intimidating or threatening at all, on the contrary it’s a bit silly and even a little adorable.

Don’t worry, Blake, I forgive you. You had a lot to work through yourself, which would have made you as much of ideal target for a Nightmare as Weiss was. Yang on the other hand… She heard firsthand what Shion said to watch for, and she was the one who got a front row seat to Weiss having a meltdown. She was too busy being pissed off on Ruby and Blake’s behalf, even though the former showed no ill will to Weiss, and the latter was starting to come terms with the fact that they were both right and wrong on many things.

Someone sounds like they had fun voicing Batley.

You know those shadow people in the dust shop talking about the Faunus attack, I had wondered if these were the kinds of conversations that Weiss had seen and heard a lot of growing up.

Hearing the English VAs saying “Big Nicholas!” makes it sound even more silly, and that’s okay, great even. It shows a more childish side to Weiss, and Nicholas was her childhood hero and her greatest inspiration.

When Ruby was speaking up about her fear that Weiss didn’t want to see her, the way that she sounded like she was close to crying resonated with me.

It’s a little easier to follow Shion’s little speech though I don’t fully understand the metaphor they’re using.

I don’t know if the English dub is still going to call her Negative Weiss, but now that I’ve seen Negative Blake and can compare the two to the normal selves, I’ve gotten a good understanding of why Nega-Weiss is the way she is. She is an embodiment of most of Weiss’ worst traits without them being balanced out by her best qualities. And just like with Blake, this is a side of Weiss that she herself doesn’t necessarily like, parts of herself she at least knows she needs to reign in at times like what happened with Blake the previous episode. Nega-Weiss lacks Weiss’ ability to empathise and forgive, she also doesn’t seem to share the same level of defiance, allowing her family to pressure her to act a certain way, especially towards Ruby, which would be a likely fear of Weiss’. She’s afraid of being nothing more than a pawn of her father, like Blake is afraid of ending up just like Adam. I think that’s why Weiss’ nightmare version of herself lacks any colour, like how she usually wears red, I would say it is like she has been stripped of her individualism.

All that being said, I get why Nega-Weiss is so annoyed with Ruby. The way she blundered about, destroying the robots and worst of all, gaining the attention of that damn Jacques AI and Batley. It flies in the face of how Weiss was taught a person should behave.

And poor Ruby whom has been struggling to understand Weiss this whole time, is taking everything that happens within a dream, a nightmare, at face value.

[alistair-blackwood]

MoMM Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #1)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion!)

Chapter 3: The Empty Corridors

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure I deserve that. Your friendship. After everything I’ve done since…”

“Of course you do. Listen to yourself; it’s not like you wanted to frighten me.” An inch of space sat between their hands. “Is this …? Um. Is this okay …?”

The winds continued to howl, and Martin's hand lay limp on the bed sheets. His face grew hot, and he started pulling back. Stupid idea. But then Jon slid his hand closer until their fingers brushed. Emboldened, Martin wrapped his hand around Jon's, his burn scar grazing the soft skin of Martin's palm.

He squeezed gently.

“No one deserves to be lonely, Jon.”

Jon had no response, staring out to the storm that continued knocking on their windows. He stared, and he let Martin hold his hand.

Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1

Martin was an optimist. He had to be. Anything else would have been utterly unbearable.

That being said, he was… relatively confident things would get better. Jon had confided in him the terrible secret of Magnus Manor and the truth of this hellish storm. The Lonely. And understanding a problem meant you were one step closer to solving it, right? It meant one step closer to getting out of the cursed estate you’d found yourself trapped in.

Most importantly, though, the two of them were talking again. Above all else, that gave him hope.

 Jon was waiting for him in the foyer the next morning. His nose was buried in a book, but when Martin approached, he looked up, and Martin liked to think he looked pleased.

“Good morning,” Martin said, hoping he didn’t sound too flustered.

“You as well. Would ... would you be amenable to sharing some morning tea? If ... if you're still offering ...”

“Y-yes, of course.” So yesterday hadn’t been a fluke; Jon wasn’t going to leave him alone again. “That sounds great. Um. English Breakfast, then?”

Jon smiled, nodded, and fetched them both a pot and one cup apiece. The porcelain warmed Martin’s aching fingers, a refreshing respite from the chill that crept so subtly through the halls.

They drank, and they talked about very little. Martin’s tongue burned with questions (–what’s it like living with these entities? How do they manifest? Will we get out of here soon?–), but he restrained himself; the age lining Jon’s face had soothed as he sipped his tea,  and when he asked Martin how he’d slept, there was a shy twist to his mouth.

Right now, Martin wanted to enjoy himself. Enjoy Jon and a warm cup of morning tea. There would be plenty of time to agonise later.

In the meantime, he’d just need to keep busy. Now was as good a time as any to give cleaning the manor another chance. Masochistic, maybe. Impossible, certainly. But at least this time he didn’t have to worry about being reprimanded. Probably.

One of the many study rooms that littered the estate would be a good place to start. Small as it was, its sooty fireplace and dusty couch was enough of a time sink for his purposes.

He was in the middle of battling a particularly stubborn stain when the door opened and Jon peered inside. Despite everything, Martin couldn’t help his trill of anxiety, made all the worse when Jon kissed his teeth.

“Must I iterate that it’s not necessary for you to – ”

“I want to.” It was still such a shock to just see Jon, to have them talking, that the words came out in a breathless, jumbled mess. “I promise. I-I like cleaning, honest. It keeps my mind off … you know, things.”

Jon paused mid-stride. For a moment, Martin thought he was going to be chased off anyway, and then he’d have to actually beg to clean, because the thought of spending another minute with nothing to do but contemplate their situation– 

“I–” Sighing, Jon brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Yes, fine, if you insist. So long as you understand that it is absolutely not an expectation of you.”

Martin’s shoulders sagged with relief. Another hurdle crossed.

He’d just convinced himself to relax and finally let his mind wander, soothed by the familiar, tediousness of cleaning a fireplace, when Jon unclasped his cloak, lying it over the sofa. 

“What are you doing?”

“Assisting you, obviously. Having you clean it in my stead when I’m the one responsible for it falling into disrepair doesn’t bear thinking about.”

Doesn’t bear thinking about. What didn’t bear thinking about was a man of Jon’s stature doing menial work like this in the first place. But Martin was hardly about to refuse his help … or his company, so freely given. “Um. Thank you. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself, though. There’s literally no way you could have kept this place clean all by yourself.”

“I appreciate the reassurance, but the point is moot.”

Well, if Jon wanted to roll up his sleeves and work at a grimy fireplace, Martin wasn’t about to stop him. When Jon literally rolled up his sleeves, he bit back a smile. The skin of his forearms was paler than that of his hands and face, smooth and free of blemishes. When was the last time he’d enjoyed a bit of sunshine without his shirt buttoned up to the chin?

Not that Martin had any business considering a thing like that in the first place. God, his face was burning again.

“I hate cleaning,” Jon murmured as he dunked the spare cloth in the water bucket. “Nothing ever stays clean.”

“Yeah. Gotta do it, though. Oh, you should keep your elbow up. You won’t tire out your arm as quickly.”

“Oh. Yes, I see.” Jon sighed. “Perhaps the fault lies with me. I’ve never been particularly good at domesticity, after all. The rare times my grandmother was home, the only thing we talked about was how untidy my room was.”

Martin’s ears perked. The opportunity to learn more about Jon and his past? It was too enticing to resist. “Your gram wasn’t home much, then?”

“Not often. She was the matriarch of our family, so important business kept her in the capital most days.”

Oh. How … odd. Martin didn’t know anything about how noble families handled representing themselves, but … “I figured your mom or dad would take care of that sort of thing after a while. Did your gram just enjoy the work?”

“Both of my parents passed when I was a child.”

Martin’s stomach plunged to his feet. What a stupid blunder to make. “I’m … I’m so sorry.” 

“It was a long time ago,” Jon said, waving him away. “I was barely more than a baby at the time. I simply don’t remember enough of them to mourn their loss.”

Martin wasn’t sure if that made it worse. For all that Martin mourned the absence of his father, at least he had fleeting memories of warm hands and a deep voice to prove he’d existed at all. That he’d had a father once. “Still, that must have been … a bit lonely.” 

“Not at all. I always had my governess’ supervision. She provided the structure and discipline I required.” Jon laughed, a wistful, breathy thing, and lowered his head. “I was … a rather troublesome child.”

That did even less to make Martin feel better, because he suddenly had this image, unbidden, of a little boy with big eyes and gangly knees, head hanging as his grandmother told him off in clipped tones, before leaving once again to the bustling capital. No hugs, or gentle forehead kisses. Just a scolding about his messy bedroom.

I’m sure you were wonderful, he wanted to say. I’m sure you deserved better than that. 

But he was probably just projecting again.

“I’ve always liked cleaning,” Martin said, instead. “Makes me feel useful. My mum, she’s … she’s been sick most of my life. Nothing too serious,” Martin added quickly as Jon turned his head. “She just gets tired a lot. You know, hard to stay upright most of the time. There wasn’t a lot I could do to make her feel better, but keeping things clean helped.”

“I … I’m sorry to hear your mother is ill.”

“We were really lucky, actually. We lived in the same town as a really good doctor. He was really generous with us, but eventually … I-I couldn’t keep up with the bills running the farm all by myself, especially after our last goat died. We had to sell a few years ago, and I had to find work in the city.” Even after all this time, his throat tangled at the memory of leaving his childhood home. “Managed to land a really good job at the lord’s castle, so I always had money to send home. Every month. Haven’t been late once, yet. Until …”

“… Until now.”

Martin opened his mouth, because, well, he wasn’t late yet. There was still time for Martin to send his letter: about a week or so. That was plenty of time. But he refrained, because saying as much to Jon felt … dangerous. Like he was tempting fate. 

Things were going to work out. They had to. The storm was going to clear, they were going to get out of here, and then … 

“Your devotion to your mother is admirable,” said Jon.

Warmth ballooned in Martin’s stomach, spreading to the tips of his ears. It was an absurd thing to receive praise for (oh, you love your mother, really going above and beyond), but … well, it was still nice to hear, every once in a while. Or at all. “Thank you.”

It took most of the morning, but, with their combined efforts, they managed to restore the fireplace to an off-colour white. Martin stepped back, basking in the glow of a job well done. Jon, however, didn’t appear quite as chuffed as Martin felt. Rolling out his wrists, the man collapsed onto the couch, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process and triggering an intense coughing fit.

“Break time?” Martin asked, taking a much more gentle seat. His only answer was more coughing. Poor thing looked utterly done with the whole enterprise, if the curl of his nose was any indication. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”

“Fun?”

“Yeah. Unless you really intend to help me clean this room all day?”

Jon laughed, turning away sheepishly.  “I … yes, um … Well, this and that, I suppose. Reading, mostly. I’ve always had a penchant for it, and I’ve yet to make my way through the library. Um. Music, although it’s been quite some time since the gramophone worked. I took to baking for a time. I like to think I’d gotten rather good at it.”

“Wait, so you did bake that bread? When I first got here?” Martin thought back on it, how crispy the crust was, the soft and tasty inner dough, how fresh it had been. Martin couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten fresh bread. “That’s seriously amazing.”

“It’s hardly a complex task. But … yes, thank you.” Martin wasn’t sure if it was the haze of the dust, but Jon’s face looked a bit darker, a bit flushed. But then, the good humor in Jon’s eyes fell away. “And then there was the garden, of course. It was … well. A disaster, to put it mildly.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I killed everything, didn’t I?” Jon’s eyes dropped to his lap, shoulders sinking. “Not a single bulb flourished under my care. I … I eventually figured it was more merciful to give up than keep trying.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Would be better to start with anything but roses, he wanted to suggest. You’re just setting yourself up to fail. But that would certainly come across as annoyingly patronising. “Maybe I can lend a hand?”

“Pardon?”

Wait. No. What business did Martin have making an offer like that? It wasn’t as if he knew any better about keeping things alive. But something about the resigned nature of Jon’s tone tore at him; his mouth had fallen open of its own accord. 

“I-I mean … Well, it might be fun, yeah?” Martin tried. “Personally, I’ve always wanted to learn how to garden.” 

“Is that so?”

Martin nodded, intending on leaving it there, but Jon was watching him, waiting. Oh.

“W-Well, uh, when I was a kid,” Martin said, face warming, “I’d always dreamed of having a, um, like a little cottage? That I owned? With a great big plot of land in the middle of a forest somewhere. Would get married, settle down, grow flowers and all kinds of food together. It’s … it’s a bit silly.”

“Not at all,” Jon said, eyes softening, and Martin’s heart fluttered something fierce. “I think that’s lovely.”

He smiled, hoping it didn’t come out as a grimace, because it had been a long, long time since he’d indulged in that particular fantasy. It just wasn’t feasible, these days, having a little cottage of his own or … or finding someone who’d want to marry him when he’s never even had a serious relationship before.

“Thank you, though, for your offer,” Jon said, cutting through Martin’s thoughts. “I’ll … be sure to consider it.”

The tight knot in Martin’s stomach unwound just a bit. “‘Course.”

By that point, the dust had become utterly unbearable, and they were forced to evacuate.

.

The brass of the door handle glimmered under the lamplight, rusted with age and disuse. How long had Martin been standing here, knees locked and shivering beneath the thick chill? Ages, by now. Griffiths was going to have his skin peeled for shirking his responsibilities like this, and the head butler would be perfectly within his rights.

But every time Martin tried to remind himself, that he still had so much work to do –

“… Hello?”

That voice. Still out there, somewhere behind the old door. Distant, but not beyond Martin’s reach. If Martin had already been here for ages, then that voice …

Wasn’t anyone coming for them?

If he opened the door, he could just take a quick look. Call out, see who needed help –

“And what do you think you’re doing, young man?”

Martin yanked his hand back, hand burnt on the molten brass.

“M-Mum?”

“I always knew you’d leave for good someday. I could see it in your eyes, you know. You couldn’t bear to take care of your poor, sick mother, and now you’re off to traipse about the countryside with some invert.”

“I didn’t leave.” Tight pressure strangled Martin’s throat, the back of his eyes burning. “I’d never do that. Where are you? I’m coming, I-I’ll find you–”

“And what, pray tell, would be the point of that?”

“Mum, please, just tell me where you are, I’m coming–”

“You’ve always been a wretched liar.”

.

Martin lurched upright, sucking painful gasps through his aching teeth, his sleep shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. No light permeated the windows— he may as well have been in a tomb, for all that he could see.

Jon was out there somewhere. Alone. As was his mother.

I’m coming back to you. I’ll find a way out of here. I’m doing everything I can– 

Liar.

Martin curled up onto his side, wrapping trembling arms around himself. Even though there was no one else to hear him, no one to stifle himself for, he drove his teeth into his lip until his mouth filled with the dull taste of copper.

Check out the Monster of Magnus Manor here!

[witchiswriting]

‘Tis the Damn Season Chapter 1

Summary: Pre-Apocalypse.  Adrielle left her town and Negan behind three years ago but when she comes back along with her feelings she found the man she couldn’t get over is moved on. Dealing with depression at the same time, could Adrielle find what she’s looking for?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Depressed Main Character, Mental Illnes

Author’s Note: This is a story I came up with when I listened to Taylor’s Tis the Damn Season song. I don’t know how but the song painted a really clear picture for this story. So, I hope you enjoy this as much as I do. Also it’s my participation to @band--psycho​‘s Music Writing Challenge.

Pairings: Negan x Adrielle (OC)

Enjoying feeling of the melting snowflake on tip of your nose, you watched the town you could never leave behind. No matter how long it has been, this place has been with you all the time. Thinking about the Christmas dinners your mother served every year even though you were absent in all of them for the past 3 years. During those years you thought you were healed, or you made yourself believe it. The difference doesn’t matter, you’re here because of him. Because you can’t deny your feelings anymore. You miss the man you hurt the most.

After all the things that took place and all the disasters you left behind your departure, you couldn't control your feelings and fears anymore. So, you left LA for the holiday season and came back to spend Christmas with your family, and if you are lucky enough, with him.

In the past 3 years you thought if he moved on and found someone else who is worthy of his love. The possibility left a bitter taste in your mouth. You know you are being selfish but imagining him with some other woman makes your heart ache. So, you’d done what you do best, drowning yourself in meaningless relationship and casual sex yet it wasn’t enough to stop that nasty voice in your head, none of them were him.

Shutting down your cruel mind, you quickly pushed the thoughts away. You were standing in front of the door of your home, your parents’ home to be correct. You put on the best smile on your face and knocked the wooden surface.

In a rush the door opened, and you found your mom, Jane, in front of you, smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. The years added a few wrinkles around her eyes, but her emerald green orbs shined with the same tenderness. Her hair was longer, and it suited her sharp features just right.

'Oh, thank goodness, you're finally here' Jane took you between her welcoming arms, surrounding you with that welcoming feeling you’d never forgotten, holding you tightly. 'Adrielle Pamela Wintringham! If you dare not coming back and visit us every year, you'll find me on your door with my bags. This is a serious threat miss!' She laughed into your raven hair.

Before being able to answer your mom, you heard a pair of very familiar footsteps. Your father, the only man you trust with your own life, is now standing right before you.

'Jane, leave the poor girl alone. If you keep saying shit like that, she will probably change her identity and start a new life who knows goddamn where.'  He joked, showing his pearly whites.

Leaving your mom, you took a big step and hugged your dad.  The break which lasted for 3 years made you miss your family more than you could ever imagine. 'Well, dad don't worry. I'll be coming back every year from now on. I missed you so much, guys.' You didn't even try to hold your tears back.

William laughed smoothly. 'C'mon Elle, let's get inside before we all get our asses frozen as shit.'

 Stepping into the house, you immediately went back to 3 years back. Nothing has changed. The beige couch you used to spend your days on is still located at the same place, the warm colour of the walls never failed to make you feel at ease, the shelves are still stuffed with your and your sister’s pictures. Though a new one caught your eye, she was standing with her volleyball team, holding the medal she probably won and next to him was the person you wanted to see most and avoid at the same time.

He had that charming smile on his lips, of course he has changed over the years, the salt and pepper beard took its place around his mouth. You remembered the feel of his stubble on your skin. ‘Fucking great’ you thought, years did him good. He was more handsome than you remembered, and you used to think it wasn’t possible.

Clearing her throat, Jane interrupted your thoughts with a soft tone. You knew she saw you staring at that picture but didn’t say anything and honestly you were grateful for that. Yes, you came back mostly because of him but it didn’t mean you were ready to face him even though through a picture in the first moments of your arrival.

'Baby, go change. The dinner will be ready in 10 and hopefully your wayward sister will be back by then.'

Making a fake offended face 'Where the hell is Andrea? I mean the Santa is back in town but she's out.' you joked slightly.

You knew you hit a sore spot when you parents shared a worried glance, they were still thinking about your mental struggles probably, but you wanted to prove that you’d beaten down the illness that chasing you since your childhood.

'Honey, she's out helping to the others with the giant Christmas tree which they put in the centre of the city.' William explained like it was nothing, but you knew your father too well to catch the tension in his baritone voice.

Not wanting to address the elephant in the room so you shook your head replying with a cheerful tone, 'Apparently nothing has changed. God I really missed this town.' The words slipped out from your mouth, but you weren't sure your parents bought it.

It's an old tradition that kept going on in your town for years and you have no doubt about Negan being there, helping everybody with a joy. He always loved this kind of stuff, you silently hoped this hasn't changed, and unfortunately Andrea is one of his best students.

Jane called from the dining room, letting you know that dinner is ready. Feeling thankful for distraction, you pulled a chair, took your usual spot in front of her.

Just as you were about to take a big bite from the delicious chicken, your troublemaker sister stepped in and made her presence known. She was looking at you with a Cheshire cat grin on her face.

'YAY! The older one is back. I have so many things to tell you Adri, oh, by the way we're still having the dinner tomorrow night, right? There are 5 days to Christmas, and it would be a shame if we skip that famous tradition.' She let the words out from her lips with overjoy. Andrea has always been a social butterfly and on the contrary of kids her age she enjoyed hanging with adults.  

'Is there a special reason for mom to not throw the party this year?  Or is it my presence that bugs you little lady?' You said with a sassy tone before you could think about the sore subject you spotted on. As soon as you realised what you just said you kicked yourself internally.

'Don't worry babe, I already planned everything and told everyone. We're going to be so busy tomorrow night.' Thankfully, your mom ran to the rescue again and replied with nonchalance.

Beyond excited Andrea blundered without realization, ‘Oh great! That means Coach Negan is coming too.’’

For a moment everyone around the table didn't mutter a word and you heard your sister whispering 'oh shit' looking at her feet.

The awkward silence was starting to annoy you, so you sighed and decided to clear the air, at least with your family. 'Guys, I really appreciate your concern, but it's been years, we both are adults and what happened back then is water under the bridge. You can't prevent us from encountering each other. I'm pretty sure Negan wouldn’t have a problem with this too. I'm sure he's already moved on and living his life peacefully. I doubt he would turn his back and run as soon as he sees me. Also, I’m here to fix my past mistakes. I can’t do that if I avoid talking to him, right?’ You arched your left eyebrow, a faux smile on your lips, the tension you feel in your stomach could make you burst into tears and then make you laugh hysterically afterwards. You were trying your best to suppress this feeling.

Your mom examined your face with a suspicious look but didn’t pressure the matter further and raised her glass in a toast.

Quickly the heaviness in the air disappeared and left its place to cosy atmosphere.

You could feel your insides hurt from laughing too much at your sister’s adventures in the school.

The happy banter interrupted with the ringing doorbell. Andrea started getting up from her seat. ‘It’s probably Nancy, she forgot her folder in my room this morning.’

Before she could move forward you stood up. ‘If it’s okay with you I would like to answer the door. I missed her too since she practically grew up in our house.’

With a genuine smile you walked toward the door. Ready for greeting Nancy and chat with her after a couple of years. You loved her like your sister. Both of them always managed to cheer you up.

You met with a pair of hazel eyes instead of Nancy’s blue ones. Negan was standing before you just shocked as you were, staring at you with wide eyes.

You were speechless. You didn’t expect to face him this early, you’re caught off guard.

His lips curled upwards with a genuine smile. Trying to be polite and casual as possible he finally said something. ‘Oh, hi. I didn’t know you’re back.’

Shaking off the whirling emotions that made you dumbfounded. ‘Hi, uh yes I’m back for Christmas.’’ You said, managed to keep trembling off your voice.

You continue to stare at each other. There was so much you want to tell him, and you weren’t sure if you could stop yourself from your arms around his neck.

‘Elle, baby invite Nancy in. You’re going to freeze to death if you keep standing on the porch.’ Your father intervened before you made something stupid.

Your dad couldn’t hide the slight shock but shrugged it off quickly. ‘Hello Negan. Troublemaker daughter of mine forgot something again?’ He asked with a smirk on his lips.

Negan laughed, you wished you could keep the butterflies in your stomach cool. ‘Fuck, not this time William. Actually, I’m here to give you these cookies.’

Deciding to form a friendly banter with him and yourself you popped the question. ‘Wow, did Coach Negan learn how to cook finally?’ You teased slightly.

He bit his lower lip before answering your simple question. ‘I wish I could fucking say yes but no, Eleanor baked them.’

Yeah, he indeed moved on.

@negans-network​

[gamerzack-blog]

I think now's as good a time as any to share a few deets on my Magic player identity, before branching out into my other interests:

The Basics

Archetype: Johnny-Vorthos

Colour identity: Altruism 🔥🌳☀️{💧}

Top 3 Favourite formats: Limited (any style); Kitchen table; Commander (hypothetically)

"Power Nine" planes (in alphabetical order): Alara; Arcavios; Ikoria; Kaladesh; Kaldheim; Kamigawa; Ravnica; Tarkir; Zendikar

Custom sets (Magic Set Editor): Uncanny/Unfunny; Secret Vault: Heroes of Squidkid Saga; Secret Vault: Ascensions Series

Milestones

First year: 2003

First Core Set: Eighth Edition

First Large Set: Mirrodin

First Small Set: Guildpact

First Side-Set: Coldsnap

First novel: The Moons of Mirrodin

First Commander: Glissa Sunseeker

Key Factional Affiliations

Guild (Primary): Izzet League 💧🔥

Guild (Secondary): Selesnya Conclave 🌳☀️

Shard: Bant 🌳{☀️}💧

Clan (Khans timeline): Jeskai Way {💧}🔥☀️

Clan (Dragons timeline): The Ojutai ☀️{💧}

Triome: Ketria 🌳{💧}🔥

Realm (Primary): Bretagard {🌳}☀️

Realm (Secondary): Surtland 💧{🔥}

College: Prismari 💧}{🔥

Other Associations (by Plane)

Ravnica

Simic Combine 🌳💧

Azorius Senate ☀️💧

Boros Legion 🔥☀️

House Dimir 💧💀

Alara

Esper ☀️{💧}💀

Naya 🔥{🌳}☀️

New Phyrexia

Quiet Furnace 🔥

Progress Engine 💧

Innistrad

Kessig 🔥{🌳}

Tarkir

Temur Frontier {🌳}💧🔥

Mardu Horde {🔥}☀️💀

The Dromoka 🌳{☀️}

The Silumgar 💧{💀}

Amonkhet

Trial of Knowledge 💧

Trial of Solidarity ☀️

Ixalan

River Heralds 🌳💧

Brazen Coalition 💧💀🔥

Eldraine

Ardenvale ☀️

Garenbrig 🌳

Ikoria

Raugrin 💧{🔥}☀️

Zagoth 💀{🌳}💧

Kaldheim

Istfell {☀️}💧

Starnheim ☀️{💀}

Gnottvold {🔥}🌳

Arcavios

Silverquill ☀️}{💀

Lorehold 🔥}{☀️

New Capenna

The GWU Family 🌳☀️💧

Planeswalker Friends List

Karn {⚪}

Elspeth Tirel {☀️}

Will Kenrith {💧}

Liliana Vess {💀}

Rowan Kenrith {🔥}

Vivien Reid {🌳}

Teferi {☀️💧}

Tezzeret {💧💀}

Angrath {💀🔥}

Arlinn Kord {🔥🌳}

Ajani Goldmane {🌳☀️}

Sorin Markov {☀️💀}

Ral Zarek {💧🔥}

Vraska {💀🌳}

Nahiri {🔥☀️}

Kiora {🌳💧}

Tamiyo {🌳☀️💧}

_________ {☀️💧💀}

#####_##### {💧💀🔥}

_________ {💀🔥🌳}

Huatli {🔥🌳☀️}

_________ {🔥☀️💀}

Sarkhan Vol {🌳💧🔥}

_________ {☀️💀🌳}

Narset {💧🔥☀️}

Nissa Revane {💀🌳💧}

_________ {💧💀🔥🌳}

_________ {💀🔥🌳💧}

Me {🔥🌳☀️💧}

_________ {🌳☀️💧💀}

_________ {☀️💧💀🔥}

_________ {☀️💧💀🔥🌳}

Planeswalker Friend List Deets (How We Friended Each Other)

Met him on my first 'walk to Mirrodin. Apparently he created it himself!

Heard about her on Bant, and decided to see if I could find her so I could learn more about being an altruist. Told she was slain, so my trail went cold, but they were SO wrong about that!

Met him while studying on Arcavios... HOO boy, THAT was a mess! Anyway, he helped save the plane, so good on him.

Friended her a while back after she failed to seduce me (turns out there are limitations to charm magic when the intended target isn't that into you).

Twin sister of #3, with both sharing the same spark. Must be awkward if one decides to 'walk while the other's in the middle of something important like... I 'unno, peeing I guess?

For some reason, liking the natural world to any extent warrants a friend request from her. That and having a connection with animals.

Heard about my affinity for time, and so he tracked ME down! This is AFTER I spent a while tracking down info on the "Great Mender", though I thought it was a specialist on healing magic, heheh...

Friended him when he was still... sane, I guess? This thing's glitching out for some reason, so I can't delete it. Probably should visit that gadgeteer on Kamigawa to get it repaired...

Asked to friend me after overhearing that I don't eat beef or wear cowskin... then swore fiery, forgey vengeance on me if I EVER come onto his daughters. PRETTY sure there's no danger of that even if they're human, so... yay?

Saw me blundering through Ulvenwald and asked if I were worried about the wolves, to which I innocently replied with "What's wrong with wolves?" She led me to safety (aka a different plane) as a thank you for being so kind.

THIS is the life mage I was trying to find! I eventually tracked him to a book club or something on Kamigawa. The Nacatl of Naya called him "a hideously gruff, ill-mannered, insatiably berserk rebel", but I see him as kind, wise, and calm.

Kinda unsettling at first, but let's just say that putting the Greater Good first and foremost reveals an unseen side of this seemingly snobbish gentleman.

My first 'walk to Ravnica was... let's say "tumultuous". Actually, let's also say it was "accidentally crashed into an Izzet laboratory-ish". This guy said I was an automatic shoe-in to become a member of his guild, but he also advised me to consider whether I wanted to get tied to one plane. I was too busy staring at his... uh... eyes to remember what I said, or how he was added to my friends list.

Friended me later that day, in fact. Turns out a simple, sincerely friendly "Hi!" is enough to win her over... though she DID admit to almost turning me into a statue for being too close at first.

She was dealing with an emotional conundrum, so I offered some advice: "Just be true to yourself, and vent those pent-up emotions. Holding onto them isn't healthy, and your needs matter just as much as others' do." Hopefully she's in a better state of mind than before.

For some reason, liking the natural world to any extent warrants a friend request from her. That and having a connection with the seas and skies... wait... did I do this one already?

Met her through Ajani's book club... well, she's the host of said book club, so friending her was a no-brainer.

To be added...

Weird... why is this now playing up...? Was someone already on here? I should ask Denkimoto to look at this, too...

To be added...

Met her in book club. Turns out she's some form of skald from a plane called "EESH-a-lahn". I tried finding it, but no-one's ever heard of it, OR a city on that plane called "or-RATS-kuh", which is supposedly made of gold...

To be added...

Met him through a member of the book club, though he's not really into books. He does, however, like DRAGONS! I just had to visit their home plane, which is filled with so many kinds of dragon. Any fan of dragons is a friend of his, apparently. He also had a good chuckle at my "Hi, Khan!" joke, so it's now our informal greeting (his is "Oh, Zed!", cos it sounds like "O. Zed").

To be added...

This is the book club member via whom I indirectly met #23. She loves learning, and is currently delving into the ancient history of her people, "a time before the dragons"... which seems kinda familiar.

For some reason, liking the natural world to any extent warrants a friend request from her. That and having a connection with the elements... okay, this is DEFINITELY the third time I've posted this, I'm sure of it!

To be added...

To be added...

No idea why there even NEEDS to be a slot for my own contact details, but...

To be added...

To be added...

To be added...

[elenajohansenreads]

Books I Read in 2021

#51 - Deliver Me, by Farrah Rochon

Mount TBR: 48/100

Rating: 1/5 stars

Poorly constructed, poorly researched, poor representation of mental illness, and some tropes I simply don't like, though that is of course a matter of personal taste.

I got this free in a bundle and it's my first Rochon read, though I've been hearing good things about her for years. I dearly hope that this is not representative of her more current works.

So let's tackle these issues one by one. Poor construction: first, the whole book is building up to the climactic charity bachelor auction, and I have no problem with that, but then the story ends abruptly at the same time the auction does, with the heroine "buying" the hero from it, some time (several days?) after she literally walks out on him after sex and does her absolute best to ghost him over what we know is a complete misunderstanding. I'll talk more about the miscommunication aspect of this later, but after the hero's repeated attempts to get to the bottom of why she left seemingly without warning or reason, he doesn't really have the chance to apologize or defend himself properly, but then the heroine forgives him anyway for basically no reason. Now, we the reader know that he wasn't actually cheating on the heroine, but she pulls a one-eighty and forgives him on the spot, when he sees him onstage, because…he's just so sexy? I'm not really sure. That happened to fall at the bottom of the page on my e-reader, so imagine my surprise when I flick to the next page and see the end matter--the book ends quite literally with the big auction, there's no denouement, there's no explanation of why she changed her mind, there's not even an epilogue to show them several months or years down the road being happy together. It's just OVER.

Second issue with poor construction: the multi-chapter subplot about the second couple who are patients of the hero, complete with an extra POV character, is jarringly distracting and (in my opinion) wholly unnecessary. This book would have been long enough to qualify as a novel without it, so it's not helpful padding, and I'll get more into why later, but I believe this subplot actively undermines the main plot.

Poorly researched: I can cover this one pretty quickly. I'm no medical expert, but when the hero early on in the story performs an emergency c-section on a conscious patient, without any form of anaesthesia and without her consent, I was not impressed. No, I'm serious. At the top of the page, the woman very clearly says "I don't want a c-section" and the next few paragraphs are the hero shushing her and doing anyway. I honestly don't know the protocols for informed consent in emergency situations, and under what circumstances doctors are allowed to exercise their best judgment and operate without informed consent, but whatever they are, I don't think it's just merrily slicing into a woman who moments ago explicitly withheld it.

There weren't any more insanely obvious medical blunders for the rest of the book, but I also didn't have much of a sense of realness from the hospital, either. Much later, a side character in the subplot makes an observation about knowing how to scrub up properly from watching "ER," and that really crystallized the level of medical accuracy in this book to me.

Okay, next issue. Poor representation of mental illness. The entire subplot is about a couple where the wife has bipolar disorder, hides that fact, and her treatment for it, from her husband, and then goes off the rails when her pregnancy screws with her medication regimen, which fails to control her symptoms.

Where the hell do I even start with this? She's depicted as a shrewish, terrible woman, and yes, I do think that's mostly because of her mental illness. Bad look to start with. Then add to that, that she thinks her husband will leave her if he finds out she's ill. Not a good look either. Her paranoid delusions all center on her husband cheating on her--which he's not--and her erratic behavior includes not following her doctor's orders about bed rest, which eventually leads to the premature (but ultimately happy and successful) birth of their child.

Now, to be fair, the husband is an absolutely stand-up guy through all of this, and the couple does get a happy ending. So I'm not accusing the author of believing or endorsing the idea that mentally ill people are either incapable or undeserving of romantic fulfillment.

But the problem is that if the point of this subplot is to mirror the main plot, then it's a terrible idea to have the main couple be a player with a string of clingy ex-girlfriends matched up with a woman who ghosts him because she believes he's cheating on her. See where I'm going with this? By having the subplot LITERALLY be about a mentally ill woman's paranoid delusions, it's drawing a parallel between those and the miscommunication of the main plot. THE HEROINE IS NOT CRAZY, SHE'S JUST INCORRECT. And implying she's "crazy" for thinking the hero might be cheating on her (even if we know he isn't!) is doing a disservice to women who have been or really are being cheated on, because a common backlash from the men is "you're crazy!" Um, no. No to all of this.

The tropes I don't personally like, but aren't necessarily big issues the same way: yes, the entire conflict between the leads boils down to a miscommunication, which results in an unsuccessful ghosting, which leads to the hero being really pushy about tracking her down and finding out what's going on. I hate plots where the love interests refuse to talk to each other for no good reason. Also, I didn't love that when these two get horizontal, there's no mention of any kind of birth control in the room with them, nor was it established that they'd had an earlier conversation about it. As much as I dread the "man wants to go bareback, woman bites her lip and says okay, i'm on the pill" scene that half the bad romance novels I read inevitably rely on, at least those books are talking about it! At least we establish there's not going to be an accidental pregnancy in fifty pages! And the hero is an OB-GYN, so there's literally no excuse for these two not to have a rational conversation about how they're going to handle birth control.

I'm genuinely struggling to find anything good about this book.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers Para-Selene Vol. 12 Mukami Ruki [TRACK 5]

Original title: 再逢の夜明け

Source: Diabolik Lovers Para-Selene Vol. 12 Mukami Ruki [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Takahiro Sakurai

Translator’s note: Guys I may have gotten diabetes from this CD like GODDAMN. I’m a sucker for fluff and cute stuff, but what happened to the concept of sadistic Vampires? xD Ruki’s such a sweatheart in this, I feel like my image of men is forever ruined now and I’m never gonna find a guy who is this much of a gentleman in real life. Oh well, guess I’ll just marry my 2D husbands instead. 

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

Track 5: The Dawn of the Reunion

“Nn...Ah? Where are...? The castle’s kitchen again, huh? The dizzy spells and headache have magically disappeared though...”

You wake up.

“You’ve awakened as well. ...You remember? You mean...You’ve regained your memories!? No way...I can’t believe it...How!? This seems too sudden...! No, nevermind. That doesn’t matter. ...You know who I am, right?”

You nod. 

“In that case, please...say my name.”

You call his name.

“Ah...Haah...I’ve been dying to see that smile of yours...”

Ruki embraces you.

“...I had mentally prepared myself, to never hear my name fall from your lips ever again.”

You say sorry.

“Apologies again? Honestly, you’re so...That’s unnecessary right now. If I could, I wish I could open up my chest, to show you just how fulfilled my heart feels right now.”

You smile.

“I’d love to hold you close (1), but I want to take a good look at your face as well. It’s a shame I can’t accomplish both at the same time.”

You agree.

“I see. So you feel the same? Even though you were by my side this whole time, it feels as if we were apart for a long time. I’m sure this sounds strange but...I missed (2) you.”

You tell him everything will be okay now.

“Yeah. I’m so glad you were able to come back.”

Ruki gazes out of the window.

“...Oh? Take a look. The sun is rising. Every night comes to an end. (3) It’s a cliched metaphor,  but I believe there isn’t a more adequate saying to describe this current moment. Furthermore, this might be the first time I’ve seen such a beautiful dawn...”

The two of you stare at the daybreak.

*TIMESKIP*

*Cling*

“This sweet fragrance...The dessert you mentioned before? Come to think of it, we never got a chance to eat it back then. You went through the trouble to make it, so let me have a taste.”

*Nom nom*

“Mm...! It’s rather delicious. It definitely goes well with the tea. Several days have passed since then, but how are you feeling?”

You tell him you’re fine.

“I see. I’m glad you don’t seem to be experiencing any after-effects.”

You take a seat.

“We’re having a beautiful moon tonight. How about we step outside on the terrace?”

You seem reluctant.

“No need to be afraid. Tonight’s moon is not a paraselene. That being said, after everything that happened, I suppose I can’t blame you. Everything is my fault for failing to judge the situation adequately.”

You shake your head.

“No. That was my blunder. That day, I failed to recognize the paraselene from behind the window. And so, you ended up falling ill.”

You tell him everything turned out fine in the end. 

“Yes, it truly is a blessing you were able to recover. I looked at the written records once again and just as I expected, there is no guaranteed, effective treatment for the paraselene syndrome yet. 

I believe that your personal strength is what allowed you to overcome the disease in such a short period of time. Despite having lost your memories, you grasped the situation adequately, overcame your fear and even accepted me. I’m sure that this mental strength of yours, refusing to crumble even underneath the disease, is what eventually crushed the syndrome.”

You disagree. 

“Heh? Then how do you think you overcame the syndrome?”

You explain.

“In that case, it would mean the paraselene syndrome is nothing to be afraid of. Even if you were unable to retrieve your memories and continued to fear me, my feelings towards you would have not changed one bit.”

Ruki scoots closer.

“I was once again reminded of how much you mean to me. (4) No matter what happens, I will never be able to give you up. In that regard, I may have let my emotions sway my decisions. I deeply regret that. I was convinced you would fear me if I told you that I’m a Vampire. However, looking back at it now, I was the one who was the most afraid. I did not want you to look at me with fear-filled eyes. I was terrified of being rejected by you. I was...unable to control the fear within my own heart, and tried to make myself believe I was doing it for your sake instead, making a huge blunder. If it wasn’t for your strength, we might have still been wandering inside that illusion right now.”

You offer your own insights. 

“Our mutual feelings...defeated the disease, you say? ...Let’s leave it at that. Nobody knows the truth, but that way makes me feel better as well.”

*Smooch*

“Well then...”

He leans in.

“We’ve finished our dessert, so you don’t mind if I continue where we left things off, right?”

You frown.

“I won’t let you say you forgot. How this soft neck of yours...accepted my fangs that day. I only put it on hold because you wanted to have dessert so badly. We had to take quite the detour to get to this point, but I believe your wish has been granted now?”

You nod. 

“Honestly...Why do you always react in these unexpected ways? No matter how much time passed...Even if you were to forget everything, you never change. I love that strength and stability of yours from the bottom of my heart.”

You say his name.

“What a sweet voice...Do you really think I’d be able to hold back if you call my name so lovingly? ...Come on, give in already and accept my love.”

Ruki bites you.

*Gulp*

“Mm...”

*Smooch*

“The more I tease you...The sweeter it tastes...”

You get flustered.

“Hmph. Seems like you feel quite good as well. If I get to see this kind of expression from you, I suppose keeping you waiting every once in a while might be worth it. 

...Well then, I’ll suck from the other side next.”

He bites you again.

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mmh...Haah...Not a bad reaction. Give me more...I want more of you. ...The scent of your blood suddenly got stronger. What’s the matter? I have not done anything yet. What were you imagining?”

You refuse to say.

“If it’s too embarrassing, want to stop here?”

You shake your head. 

“Heh. You don’t want to embarrass yourself, but you don’t want to stop either? What a selfish little princess. However, I must be seriously ill as well, finding pleasure in being pushed around by your selfishness.”

You beg for more. 

“Yeah...Rest assured. Just as you wish, I’ll give you more. I won’t let you go tonight. I’ll teach you thoroughly that you belong to me and at the same time...I’ll be reminded that I am yours as well. My one and only...beloved Eve.”

*Smooch*

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Literally he says ‘I want to touch you without leaving any gaps/space in between (our bodies)’. 

(2) The phrase 会いたかった or ‘aitakatta’ which literally means ‘I wanted to see/meet you’ is often translates as ‘I missed you’ in English instead. 

(3) In Japanese, the phrase 明けない夜はない or ‘akenai yoru wa nai’ is often used as a way to install hope. It means that no matter how bad the situation may seem, there is always some hope left. 

(4) Literally he says ‘how deeply obsessed I am with you’ but that sounded a little creepy rather than romantic, so I went with a softer translation. 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.58

Lance left him hanging until the weekend to wake up properly. His boyfriend had woken sporadically over the last few days, only really long enough to express his relief that Keith was okay, then fall back to sleep. His external wounds had healed within the first 48 hours, all of them breathing easier for it. Coran had said Lance would wake when he felt, probably run down emotionally from Miriam being ill and neglecting himself because he worried too much for other. Matt’s wounds took about the same time, the bottom of his face swollen and bruised, teeth missing and a few hair line fractures in his lower jaw. Matt had tried talking to Pidge, but she wasn’t ready. Keith had more luck talking to Hunk, who’d called demanding to know why Pidge wasn’t making sense and what had had happened to Lance. Telling him there’s been an accident in the tunnels and that both Matt and Lance had been hurt, Hunk demanded answer, Shiro plucking the phone from his hold, and reassuring Hunk on the way to Platt to get them both looked at, before hanging up. Keith had tried messaging group chat to say both Matt and Lance were okay, but had gotten no reply. He couldn’t help but empathise with Pidge, probably understanding her feelings better than everyone right about now. He wanted to reach out, but was scared of the rejection he might face.

While Lance had slept, Keith had done everything he was suppose to. Eaten. Showered. Slept. Trained. Training helped him vent his anger. He wasn’t even sure who he was angry at any more. Kosmo was eager to follow him everywhere he went, Blue preferring to stay with her human, curled up on Lance’s chest except for the times the door opened and closed. Keith didn’t understand cats with doors. They knew what was on the other side, but every time a door opened they seemed curious as if seeing it all again for the first time. Keith didn’t have the time to be curious... despite being on a whole new floor at Voltron. It made sense there was more to the place than what he could see, but now they were further under ground, Coran having his access card over the elevator panel, bringing up a whole panel of underground levels. They were using rooms normally reserved for hunter. Keith and Lance sharing a room, Curtis had his old room back, Shiro between VOLTRON and their apartment, with Matt and Rieva returning to Garrison. They were all worried about Lance, but things needed to be done. Plus Matt was majorly depressed overly hurting Lance, Coran suggesting he visit once Lance woke so they could talk. The incident in the tunnels had to be reported, Coran had promised he’d take any all blame “for the blunder”.

It was some ungodly hour Saturday morning that Lance woke. Keith wasn’t sleeping, instead he was playing with his camera, brought by Shiro to distract him. Kosmo sleeping curled up against his side after a hard day of being adorable. When his boyfriend spoke, Keith nearly jumped out of his skin

“Hey there, come here often?”

Fumbling his camera, Keith rushed out of his bed and to Lance’s. There were two singles in the room, not quite able to fit two fully grown men when Keith was paranoid about hurting Lance in his sleep. Catching an armful of him, Lance held him tightly

“I see I was missed”

“You fucking idiot. You had me worried”

“I know... God, that hurt. Are you still okay? I know I was out of it, but you didn’t get hurt, did you?”

Keith deflated a little, this was how their brief conversations had been going

“I’m okay. Shit hit the fan, but I’m okay”

Lance nuzzled into his chest, poor Blue was now stuck between Lance and the wall thanks to Keith

“Good. I would have to punch you in the dick if you weren’t”

“You wouldn’t”

“No. I feel like I’ve slept for a month”

“Only since Tuesday”

“What’s today?”

“Saturday”

Lance groaned, his boyfriend trying to sit up while simultaneously not let him go. Keith moved to be less in Lance’s lap, Lance nearly squashing Blue as he pulled himself up to sit. Blue jumping on Lance’s shoulder before bolting off the bed

“Fuck... hold on... fuck...”

Keith wasn’t going anywhere. Lance’s words falling time with Blue’s leaps. Sitting back against the wall, Lance covered his mouth as he yawned. This was the most progress he’d made in days

“Babe? You okay? You had a huge shock to the system

Lance slid his hands up, rubbing at his eyes before sliding his hands back down to cover his cheek and nose

“Please tell me I didn’t bite you and tell me I don’t remember Pidge being there”

It’d be nice if Lance didn’t remember. He’d barely woken up and there he was making more sense than he should

“I’m sorry”

Keith didn’t know what to do other than apologise. He’d messed up... Lance swearing softly

“Babe. It’s okay...”

It wasn’t okay, because this was Pidge

“Is she okay? Have you heard from her?”

“Not really. Matt tried to talk to her, but she didn’t want to talk. She talked to Hunk, and Hunk was kind of freaking out...”

“Fuck... God... I didn’t want to her find out. What did you guys tell her?”

“I said there was an incident in the tunnels...”

“Couldn’t you have lied and said a prank gone wrong?”

That would have been the smart people’s approach to things. His brain unfortunately decided he need to try and tell the truth because he cared about Pidge and Hunk. Lowering his gaze, he mumbled

“Rieva turned too...”

Lance started to draw his knees up. Keith tearing up. He’d ruined everything for Lance

“Lance, I’m so sorry. This is my fault... if I hadn’t let you go... this wouldn’t have...”

“Stop it. Stop right there. Right now I can’t... You didn’t do anything”

“I should have...”

Hauled up from sitting beside Lance, Keith was manhandled into Lance’s lap like Lance was picking up Blue. Wrapping his arms around him, the vampire rested his forehead against Keith’s arm

“Keith. Just stop. Stop it. No. You didn’t know. You had no idea. Coran wanted to see the tunnels, and we would have been stuffed without him”

“I fucked up. Pidge saw. Hunk and Shay won’t talk to me. Pidge saw Rieva as a damn wolf. You got hurt. Matt got hurt. Curtis popped a fucking horn. Why didn’t I say something?”

“You did. You told me we could totally blow it off. It was fine until Coran poked at the magic”

“He said it was some kind of spell to stop supernatural things from living down there”

“If I had to feel that every day, I wouldn’t want to live down there either. But anyway, how are you?”

“You already asked me that. I haven’t even asked how you feel”

“I’m okayish. My arm’s not broken anymore, so that nice. What happened to Matt?”

“Busted jaw. Coran did some kind of fae magic on him. I feel like you’re changing the topic”

Lance sighed at him. Neither of them were not thinking about Pidge. Nosing at his arm, Lance was no doubt beating himself up internally

“I’ve never... I didn’t want Pidge to find out like this. What I want to do is call her, but she probably won’t answer me. I know there’s magic in the tunnels now, and that’s why we snapped, but I feel like a douche for being mad at Coran for touching it”

“Coran’s been here a bit. Allura too. I didn’t want to leave, but Shiro said you’d be disappointed if I didn’t try to take care of myself”

“I think I would have been angry, but I would have understood. You needed time to process things. I get it. I’m sorry I scared you, but I’m not sorry that you didn’t get hurt”

It clicked in Keith. Part of that anger was because Lance had been hurt. That Lance willingly let himself be hurt

“You can’t just do that to me. I was covered in your blood. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even know if you’d make it through. You can’t do that to me. I swear I really will punch you in the dick as hard as I can if you ever let yourself get hurt like that again”

“I know... but... God. When Matt turned, I thought... I didn’t even think. It was all instinctual. I just wanted you to be safe”

“You’re still an idiot and I’m still mad at you”

“Join the club. I guess this is it for me. Pidge and Hunk know. I’m going to have to start all over again”

“Pidge might come round...”

“Or she might be at home researching every known way to kill a vampire. She’s going to think I was using her... but... I really loved her... I love her, Keith... she was family and now she hates me”

Keith knew this was coming. His heart broke all over again to hear Lance say it. He’d heard all his boyfriend’s fears before. Turning in Lance’s hold, Keith straddled his boyfriend’s lap. Cupping Lance’s face, Lance shook as he cried

“Hey. We don’t know that. She could just need time. I know I needed time when I found out. Shiro can tell you about it. I didn’t know anything... and Pidge... she’s not like me. She was open to the idea before she saw”

“I lied to her for years”

“So did my mum. She... she left me behind. She knew everything and she left me behind. Pidge... Pidge knows now, but you... You two... You two are tight. Pidge needs to calm down and work her own thoughts out”

“But... but now Hunk knows. They... I’ve had friends before, but never like them. I love them so much. I know pushing her now will only make her mad, but when I think about how much she’s hurting... This is why... why I shouldn’t...”

Whatever Lance was going to say was cut off as he dissolved back into tears

“Don’t give up on Pidge before you jump to to the worst. Okay. This is Pidge. She’s probably going to storm in here and start kicking everyone’s arse”

Lance sniffled wetly, Keith wiping away his tears as he attempted a wobbly smile

“She... she would”

“Damn straight. Our little gremlin is a force to be reckoned with”

“I’m sorry... for... she’s your friend too...”

“You don’t have to be sorry. Unless it’s sorry for getting snot everywhere”

Lance barked a laugh before sniffling again

“I’m sorry about that... Hey... thanks... I know I slept a lot... but thanks...”

“I would say anytime, but I don’t want to see that ever again. I was a mess. Hell, Shiro had to bath me because I was so out of it”

“Should I be worried?”

“About Shiro seeing me naked? Nah. About the other stuff, we’ll figure it out”

“I don’t deserve you”

“My boyfriend thinks I’m a catch”

“Your boyfriend would be right. Seeing I don’t see him here, would he be mad if we cuddled?”

“I think I can convince him it’s okay. He’s got this thing where he’s like ridiculously nice to people”

“I heard it’s only to people he cares about that”

“I heard that too... but I think he just cares about everyone”

Lance snorted, but it wasn’t a happy snort. It was a “I’m now beating myself up about something else”

“Babe?”

“I haven’t even asked about Mami...”

Oh...

“I think Coran’s been to visit her. And we can totally go see her too”

“I left her alone again...”

Keith bit back telling Lance that his siblings had probably been with her so she hadn’t been alone, but that would probably be taken wrongly

“She’ll understand. I know you spent the last few days sleeping, but you still need to rest”

“Yeah... probably... you’re probably right... Can I hold you?”

Keith should be the one holding Lance, not the other way around

“I think I can manage that”

“Good... I still... I’m still scared... that I’m going to wake up and find...”

“And find me snoring? That’s more than likely”

“You know what I mean”

“I do. I’m okay, you know. Matt didn’t hurt me, and no signs or symptoms of suddenly turning”

“My blood is dangerous... you should have left me”

His boyfriend was so stupid. He wasn’t leaving him

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not going to leave you when you’re torn to shreds”

“If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself”

“Then it’s a good thing nothing’s going to happen to me”

“You can’t make promises like that”

“I can for the rest of the night. Let’s get some rest and talk about this in the morning”

*

Lance still felt the lingering tenderness of being a werewolf chew toy. When Keith fell asleep in his arms, Lance laid awake for hours processing. Pidge knew his secret, and he really couldn’t blame her for not wanting to see him. He remembered biting Keith, he felt his face all wrinkle up as he showed her his vampire face. Matt and Pidge would be fighting. Matt as stubborn as Pidge was. He’d be trying to talk to her, while she shut them all out as she processed. If she hadn’t approached Matt, asking what was happening, then that was a bad sign. Pidge had waited months for Matt to come home. She would have been glued to his side if this was some rumour she was checking out.

Ever since they’d met, Pidge had been Hunk’s best friend. Lance adored the pair of them, and never wanted to be in the way of that friendship. Giving Hunk the “choice”, Lance wanted him to choose Pidge. But Hunk was the greatest and most forgiving man to ever walk the Earth. He’d talk to Lance, upsetting Pidge, and possibly causing a rift between them. If that was the outcome then it was better he left Garrison. Pidge might come around, but if he was in town there was always that chance of upsetting them. He couldn’t go home. He didn’t have a home to go back to... Not until... not until Pidge had had enough time and space to make her mind up without pressure.

And then there was Keith. He was dating Keith... yet... Pidge and Hunk were so good for his boyfriend. Keith was making friends, starting to see he was worthy of love. And god if Keith didn’t deserve love. He was awkward as fuck, had a low people threshold, and completely hopeless on recent events... He fitted in. He filled the gap and Shay smoothed the edges. Shiro was stuck in this too. He was best friends with Matt. Curtis had a horn! Curtis and Shiro were on the cusps of becoming more and now his curse had been ramped up.

Then there was Coran. He loved Coran. Coran had shown him such unconditional love. Coran couldn’t have know the magic would... but... he... Surely Coran had felt the magic. He should have said something earlier... If he suspected. If he cared... Coran did care. Lance just didn’t understand how one afternoon could turn things upside down. They were lucky that it hadn’t happened on the weekend. Not when Coran hadn’t been there to subdue Matt. He... But if it was in front of Pidge, Shay, and Hunk, then... He didn’t know. He couldn’t have protected all of them. Matt had the jump on him. He’d acted without thinking. Proper thought went out the window when Matt’s claws raked down his back. And Matt... he hoped he was okay. He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to see he was okay. Matt hadn’t been in control, so he couldn’t blame him.

And then he was back to Keith again. He adored Keith, but Keith could have turned. Keith was covered in his blood. That must have been so traumatic for him. Then he’d left him alone to mentally abuse himself as he buried himself in the waves of misplaced guilt. Lance was glad they got Keith out the room and doing things. He had the time to sit by his boyfriend’s side, but Keith didn’t. Keith was human.

So where did that leave him now? Coran hadn’t wanted him coming here thanks to the new vampire in town... but he couldn’t go back to Garrison. He could work from anywhere, provided he had his phone and laptop. Coran kind of owed him... so maybe he could live here until the dust settled. Blue and Kosmo were already here. There was no way he was asking to stay with Keith and Shiro. That wasn’t even a question, and if it was, he’d say no. He wouldn’t put them in danger, nor drive a wedge between them. Shiro probably had a few choice words over him biting Keith. If he could, he’d punch himself in the mouth for that. Keith was precious to him. Moving to the step of having sex was right for them. He felt closer when Keith was buried inside of him, and not just proximity wise. He felt accepted by his boyfriend, and while sex might have happened, he still wanted to take things slow with Keith. He wanted to build a real relationship with him. He wanted to support him. Not financially or anything like that. He wanted to support him the way his boyfriend always supported him. He’d been awake a little while before initiating conversation, trying to process all that happened. But he couldn’t do that when he had so many questions. Keith was stupid enough to think that they could just go see Miriam. He loved that in Keith. He was broody, hot headed, and he’d grown since Lance met him. Or maybe he’d finally been able to open up? To be himself? When morning came, he’d message Pidge. He’d apologise and let her know he’d be staying in Platt, and he’d be ready to talk when she was. That was the only solution to the situation. Until then, all he could do, was bask in the feel of his boyfriend against him.

[anti-jack-kline]

(1) I am not gong top provide links or names but someone sent me an essay on how and why Jack should be loved and forgiven and I'm just wondering what the response would be from you guys. Its long so will be multiple message. I have no intent to attack the user that sent this, just want help debunking it: Keep in mind that you're a fan, too - as are the other people who passionately hate Jack and wish him every possible ill in the world. :-)

I honestly wondered how to tackle this. Quite frankly, I won’t post the essay here - googling something like that would be too easy, and I don’t even trust myself not to be snarky when it comes to the arguments put forth, so I will summarize and answer those I think I should. 

Quite frankly, the author is one of those who simply accepted the “Jack is family to Sam and Cas” because they were told by the writing to do so. Now, this is anyone’s right, but it will never be enough for me. We were never truly shown them becoming family - it just happened through magic and Jack hugging Cas going “I missed you” when they had not yet shared a single scene. So far, so good - they might call him family, I might not. 

There are, however, several points that I consider problematic. The first is that the author claims that because Sam and Cas are used to Dean’s “harsh” treatment of them when they are angry, it’s logical they would sympathize more with Jack - a rather stunning argument ESPECIALLY because they point out that Sam also lost his mother yet they consider his reaction apparently more healthy, in a way. This not only negates Dean’s right to be angry (which he does. Anyone has the right to be angry when someone makes a “mistake” and hurts them. I am using the word “mistake” on purpose here because he would have the right to be angry even if Jack had done something far less bad) but makes Jack once more the victim of said “harsh” treatment. Also, they assume that because of Dean’s attitude, Sam and Cas HAD to “force” their point of view on Dean - again, Dean is the unreasonable one and must be brought down some more. 

Then there’s the fact that they claim Sam and Cas, after all their own mistakes and blunders over the years, understand that you cannot just cut someone you love out of your life because he did something bad but should reach out - and try to help then find (actual quote) “a way back to health, sanity, and goodness”). This is for me the most dangerous argument I have read concerning this kind of behaviour. I am sorry, but no. You cannot heal everything with love, and more importantly, you can’t heal PEOPLE with love. Let’s say, Jack wasn’t soulless but had anger issues which led him to kill Mary - would Sam and Cas be responsible for him getting help? No! No one is responsible for someone not getting the help he needs, if he could. And Jack - again I hold firmly by that - knew he was dangerous, and they knew about a way to curb his powers. He could have chosen that.  Moreover: there comes a point, and that point may be a different one for different people, when toxic people are too toxic, dangerous people are too dangerous, addicts are too lost to their addiction. There comes a point when you, who might have been trying to reach out and help them, have to pull away for your own safety. There comes a point when love isn’t enough, being family isn’t enough, trying isn’t enough. There comes a point when you have to walk away, and someone killing your mother should be that point. (by the way: I could see why maybe Cas wouldn’t think much of one killing (how many angels did he slaughter?) but still - he has seen and experienced what the loss of their mother did to Dean, to Sam. He should know better as well.) In short, if this was the intended message - that family, that a loved one will ALWAYS be worth looking after, being helped, reaching out to - I believe it is a terrible and downright harmful one. 

And there is one last point I must adress, because frankly, it’s made me slightly ill to read. They claim the gang should all meet up in Heaven to discuss this and that - 

Mary should have the last word.  Now, first things first: SPN’s Heaven has always been shown to be awful, and that drive around they had Dean do in the finale did nothing to negate that. So when the author announces death is basically just a transference of consciousness so really, it’s not that bad (that’s what I read it as, anyway) that doesn’t cut it for me, and anyway, it seems to me like they don’t think death should be a big deal at all, which... I don’t agree with.  But now for the Mary thing. Apart from such meeting (thankfully) not being possible in the real world, this is what the author wants:  A woman, who was killed by someone she (according to the text) loved like a son, should be forced to sit down with her killer and talk it through. No. Just no. Even if he had only severely harmed her, she should not be forced to do that. And moreover - it also implies that only the direct victim of someone has the right to make the decision how anyone else should react. This is not how life could or should work. 

Okay, that were my two cents. Sorry if this got long and rambly, but I happen to feel passionate about such subjects.   

[rimmers-swimming-certificate]

Red Dwarf fanfic - Comatose (16/19)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15

Lister rested his chin in his cupped hand, propped up by an elbow on the arm of the wheelchair as Kryten pushed him through the corridors of Red Dwarf. He came to a stop outside the entrance to the quarters that Lister shared with Rimmer, and the door opened.

“Okay, thanks Krytes, I can take it from here,” Lister told him.

Kryten shook his head. “Nonsense, sir,” he insisted. “It’s no bother at all, I’ve brought you this far, I’m going to make sure that you get safely from the door to the bed.”

Lister sighed. He knew from past experience that there was little point arguing with Kryten when he was in nursemaid mode. Instead, he sat passively as the mechanoid manoeuvred the wheelchair through the door.

“There we go, sir,” Kryten said. “Home safe and sound. Now, how about we get you tucked up into bed?”

“Really, Kryten. I can do this bit myself,” Lister said.

“Of course you can, sir,” Kryten told him. “But you’ve had a very busy day. Your first time outside of the medi-bay in three weeks, I imagine it’s all a bit overwhelming for you. Now, You just relax, and I’ll pop you in bed.”

Lister cringed and gave Rimmer, standing in the corner of the room with arms folded, an embarrassed glance as Kryten bent over and picked him up out of the wheelchair.

“Be careful with him!” Rimmer said. He approached, nervously, arms outstretched as though he could catch Lister if Kryten were to drop him.

Kryten carefully deposited Lister on Rimmer’s bunk, placing him with his back resting against the far too many pillows that had been arranged there. He pulled the cover over him, and proceeded to tuck him in.

“Now then, how about a nice cup of tea?” Kryten asked him. “And maybe some of those bickies you like? Or better yet, a nice mug of warm milk to help you get off to sleep.”

Lister shook his head. “I don’t like warm milk, Kryten. I told you, it’s disgusting. Tastes too much like milk. And that weird horrible skin it gets on the top sometimes?” He shuddered.

“Tea, then,” Kryten said.

“I’m fine, really.”

“A glass of water, then. Don’t forget, now you’re back in your own quarters, I’m not going to be here all the time. I’d hate for you to wake up thirsty in the middle of the night and not be able to get yourself a drink. I’ll get one for you now, just in case.” He turned to leave, then hesitated. “Unless, of course, you’d rather I stayed the night. It’s really no problem.”

Rimmer took a step forward. “Er, yes it would be, actually. It would be a problem for me.”

Kryten appeared unconcerned. “Yes sir, but surely you must agree that as a human, Mr Lister’s needs come above your own.”

Rimmer glared hard at Kryten. “I agree no such thing,” he said. “Now kindly smeg off before I order you to microwave your head.”

“I…” Kryten said. He straightened up, then turned back to Lister. “I’ll get that water.”

“I don’t want any water, Kryten,” Lister told him. “I’m fine, honestly. I just want to get my head down.”

Kryten hesitated. “I’ll come back in an hour or so,” he said. “Just in case you’ve changed your mind.”

Lister sighed, but didn’t bother to argue. He knew there was no point. As Kryten left the room and the door closed behind him, Lister relaxed. He untucked the sheets and threw three excess pillows onto the floor next to the bunk, then he turned to Rimmer. “Microwave his head?” he asked.

Rimmer shrugged. “It was the best I could come up with on the spot.”

“It worked.” Lister shuffled a little further down the bunk and rested his head on the remaining pillow. “Thanks for swapping beds with me,” he said.

“Well, I could hardly leave you at Kryten’s mercy in the medi-bay until you had enough strength to climb a ladder, could I? I think that would constitute cruel and unusual treatment.”

Lister laughed. “He’s not that bad really,” he said. “He’s just…” he hesitated. “Okay, he is that bad. It was alright when I was still ill, but now I’m getting better, yeah. Except for the exercises the medi-comp set for me, he literally won’t let me do anything for myself. Too much longer and I think I’d have gone insane.”

“I’d have thought you’d be used to not doing things for yourself, after five months as a hologram.”

Lister looked at him. “That’s different.”

Rimmer nodded. “Maybe. I wouldn’t know. How are you adjusting, anyway?”

He hesitated, not sure how to answer that. Part of him wanted to talk about how he sometimes had trouble getting to sleep because he kept noticing the way the sheets and blankets felt against his skin, or how the first time Kryten had left him alone and he had had the strength to get out of bed himself, he had touched everything. He had savoured the feeling of the cold floor on his bare feet, and ran his hands over everything, feeling the difference between hard and soft, rough and smooth, cool and ward. Part of him wanted to tell Rimmer how much he had missed him, even when he was in the room with him. Even now, when they were so close that they could almost touch.

If anything, that made it worse.

“Lister?” Rimmer asked.

Lister blinked. “Uh, yeah. Fine,” he said.

Rimmer nodded. He sat down at the table, then stood up, paced the room, then sat down again. “What’s it like?” he asked.

“Honestly?” Lister shrugged. “I dunno. Right now, it kinda sucks. Kryten’s still not let me have a curry, can you believe it? Or a lager. Ask me again when I’m back on my feet properly.” 

“But everything else though,” Rimmer said. “To have a physical presence again…” he tailed off, hands clenched as though he was imagining grabbing something that his hand did not pass through.

Lister sighed. “Come on, Rimmer, Don’t do that to yourself, man,” he said, warningly. “You don’t want to listen to me bang on about how great it is to be able to pick things up. It’s not that great anyway. It’s totally overrated.”

Rimmer folded his arms and looked away. “Really?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Lister lied, knowing full well that Rimmer didn’t believe him.

“Well… good.” Rimmer said. “I suppose I’d better get to sleep, anyway, if that metal moron’s going to come blundering in checking if you need a drink of water all through the night.”

Awkwardly, without the ability to touch the ladder or the bunk with his hands, Rimmer managed to balance well enough to climb up to the bunk. Lister didn’t watch. He had managed it himself, but there had been more than one reason he had enjoyed sharing the bottom bunk with Rimmer when he had been a hologram.

“This won’t be for long,” he promised. “Soon as I’m strong enough to get up and down the ladder without falling, we’ll swap back.”

“It’s fine,” Rimmer said, sounding a little breathless from the exertion. I’m figuring it out. If you managed it, I certainly can.”

Lister rolled his eyes.

“incidentally, any idea when that will be?” Rimmer asked. “If it’s going to be too long, we’ll get all these posters moved. It looks a real mess up here, Lister.”

Lister shrugged. “Dunno. Right now I’m exhausted from a short walk on the treadmill and lifting a couple of weights. I mean, I finally convinced Kryten to let me cut up my own food, but that’s not too strenuous. Other than that, all I’ve done today is sit around in bed, sit around in a chair, and sit around in a wheelchair while Kryten pushed me around the ship, and I’m still wiped out. I feel like I’ve spent the day in the gym.”

“And how would you know?”

“Hey! I’ve been to the gym before!”

“Yes, but while at the gym, have you ever done anything other than sit in the jacuzzi enjoying the bubbles?”

Lister grinned. “Yes,” he said. “Once. Ended up feeling exactly like I do now, that’s why I never did it again.”

He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, feeling the cool of a fresh bit of pillow against his cheek and the soft sensation of the freshly laundered cotton sheets against his skin. He touched the bed with his hand, caressing it in slow circles, savouring the sensation.

Something told him that sleep wasn’t going to come as easily as he had hoped.

(next)

[bellemorte180]

Wanderlust Chapter Nine

If it was not for Enzo barking and wagging his tail at the sight of Klaus, the house would have been silent. Klaus bent down and petted the dog in greeting and avoided looking at Caroline. He was nervous. He knew she was angry at him and frankly, he did not blame her. She had every right to be fuming and Enzo was providing him with a nice distraction. He could feel Caroline’s eyes boring into him and only felt brave enough to meet her eye when Enzo ran off to grab a toy.

She did not appear angry but rather disappointed; a fact that surprised him. He was expecting to be met with fury, although, he supposed that if she was angry, she would not have let him into the house. He felt calmer than he had when she came upon him on the at the police station. He regretted how he had treated her earlier and wanted to make things right; seeing her angry eyes and hurt expression tore at him, even worse because he knew that he was the reason why she had felt that way. He detected no hint of redness around her eyes and the fact that he had not made her cry was at least something; that he knew of anyway. Their spat had been hours ago and the chances of her ending up in tears between then and now were high.

Caroline said nothing when he peaked up at her; Enzo nudging his hand with a toy pig. Klaus grabbed it and tossed it across the room gently. Enzo chased after it while his master looked at Klaus expectedly. She crossed her arms, being mindful of her cast and cocked an eyebrow at him. She was not going to make this easy on him and that caused him to fight down a smirk. If he started smiling now, Klaus had a feeling it would not go over well for him. Caroline was not a push over and he was not about to mess this up. Not now.

“I’m sorry.” Klaus started out, lamely. He honestly did not know how to begin and figured that was the best place to start. “I was in a foul mood when I saw you and I took my anger out on you. That was not fair, and I should not have said what I said. I regretted it the moment you walked away.” Caroline said nothing but just continued to look at him. “Last night was one of the worst nights I’ve had a in a while, and to be honest, one the worst I’ve ever experienced, but the moments we shared, here, it’s the only exception and bright spot that I cannot regret.”

“So, I’m not just a distraction that got your best friend killed?” Klaus winced. While it was not what he said exactly, it was clearly what Caroline heard between his words. Her tone was light which scared Klaus more than it should. The cold shoulder appeared to be Caroline choice of punishment and that terrified him more than listening to her scream and shout like Rebekah would have; or any of his ex’s. Enzo was nudging Klaus’s hand, but he ignored the dog, his focus completely on Caroline.

“No! Absolutely not.” Klaus looked as though he was walking down the plank to an open shark infested sea. “You bare no responsibility for Marcel’s…. for his death. It was not right of me to insinuate such things. You have so much to deal with that I cannot...” Caroline held up her hand, telling Klaus to stop talking; a bitter smirk playing on her lips.

“Okay, I get it. You’re sorry. You get a pass just this once because I get where your anger comes from. Your friend died and I cannot comprehend how you must be feeling right now.” Her voice was sympathetic, and she could not help but notice how his shoulder’s slumped. “I had a long time today to think about it and I came to grips with why you were lashing out.”

“So, I’m forgiven?” Klaus whispered, his shoulder’s sagging in relief. He genuinely felt horrible for how he treated her and was expecting a long session of groveling ahead of him. “I was expecting yelling, the cold shoulder or something first.”

“Well, like I said, I had a long afternoon to think about it.” Caroline stepped forward, taking the pig out of Enzo’s mouth and tossing it on the couch; telling the dog that it was not time to play. She looked at Klaus and gave him a rueful smile. “You were hurt and lashing out. I get it but you better hear me when I say this. I will not be treated like that again. I spent years in a relationship with Damon and then Tyler being treated horribly, and I refuse to be with someone who disrespects me. Okay?”

“I would never, ever, do what Damon did to you. Or Tyler.” Klaus whispered to her. The mere thought of him laying hands on Caroline in any manner that would cause her harm made him feel ill. Klaus had such a vehemence towards domestic violence, for it always reminded him of Mikael, that he just could not become that person. “I would never lay a hand on you. Ever.”

“I know.” She stepped close enough to him and placed her hand on his chest. She leaned upward and kissed his cheek gently. “I know that you would never, ever do that to me. I hardly know you but that has never been a question or concern in my mind. I just did not appreciate you taking your anger out on me.” Klaus couldn’t help himself; he pulled Caroline against his chest and buried his face in her hair, enjoying the feeling of holding her close. “Bonnie however, she is not your biggest fan right now. I spent a good portion of the afternoon defending you. Just so you know.”

“Well, I suppose that is to be expected.” Klaus muttered into her hair; still refusing to let her go. He remembered the glare Bonnie tossed him before stalking off after Caroline. “I guess I should thank you for being my defender.” Caroline chuckled lightly into his chest as a though occurred to him. Klaus looked around the small house and noticed for the first time that Caroline was alone. “Where is Bonnie?”

“Oh…” Caroline trailed off, pulling away from him slightly; biting her lip as she went. “Well. You see….I might have told a small fib.” Klaus said nothing but just looked at her; waiting for an explanation. “I told Bonnie that mom would be staying here tonight.”

“Right.” Klaus just looked at her in disbelief. “Except your mother was still at the station when I left and did not appear to be leaving any time soon.” Caroline nodded. Klaus wanted to tell her that she was insane for telling Bonnie to leave and that her mother would be there later, when Klaus was sure that Liz assumed Bonnie would be staying with Caroline. “I’m assuming if I point out that there is a serial killer on the loose, one that tried to break in last night is not going to be a welcome response?”

“Nope.” Caroline gave him a soft smile. “Not only that, but I have tweedled dee and tweedled dumb outside, or some counterpart of them.” Klaus snorted at the description of Rosza and Vanchure. “I get that you’re worried. I get that everyone is worried, because believe me, after last night, I’m terrified. I’m questioning everyone I’ve known since I was a child, wondering who could possibly behind this but if I force myself to constantly be babysat, I’ll lose my mind. I just wanted a few hours alone. That’s all.”

“I know.” Klaus told her, understanding the fact that she was feeling suffocated. He reached down and took her good hand. He could not help but bring it to his lips and kissed it. The memory of her kisses from the night before were the only thing keeping him sane as the muddled through the day. Even after their argument, Klaus wanted nothing more than to feel her in his arms again. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No. Stay.” Caroline replied in a soft tone. She linked their fingers together and pulled him towards the couch. Klaus settled onto it, his head dropping onto the back of it. Caroline curled up beside him, resting her head against his chest. Klaus, absent mindedly, began running his fingers through her blond curls. “If you want to talk, I’m here.”

“I know.” Klaus leaned down and kissed the top of her head, taking comfort in the fact that she was safe and in his arms. He had been so terrified of learning that she had been murdered, never considering the fact that someone else he cared for could be in danger. “I called my sister. She had to know about Marcel.”

“How did she take it?”

“Not well.” Klaus replied. “I could hear her tearing up on the phone. I hate hearing her cry, all of us do. She is the youngest and the only girl so we were always a bit over protective of her and because of that, she was always a bit much to handle; wanting to prove that she could take care of herself all the while finding herself in some blunder or another.” Caroline chuckled at that. “I thought that Marcel would be good for her.”

“Marcel had mentioned that they had dated?” Caroline asked and it made her happy to hear him chuckle. Klaus knew what she was doing, she was trying to get him to open up about his friend without pushing him for more than he would be able to give. “What happened there?”

“Distance mostly.” Klaus replied honestly. “They connected and hit it off really well. I could tell that Marcel really loved her, but Rebekah can be a bit much at times. She expects everyone to drop their own lives to match hers. Marcel is…. was… a devoted agent and refused to compromise that. She wanted him to move to England to be with her. He wanted her to come to D.C permanently. It would have made more sense. Rebekah writes for a fashion magazine and they have a branch in D.C., but she was refused. I think more on principal than anything else.”

“So, it didn’t work out?” Klaus shook his head in answer. He remembered how heartbroken Marcel had been when Rebekah and he ended their relationship. He was concerned that it would affect their partnership, but Klaus told him that he knew how his sister was. No matter what happened between Marcel and Rebekah, he wasn’t about to give up the one friend he had because his sister did not understand the concept of compromise. Rebekah was as equally heartbroken, but she hid it well; burying it deep down and refusing to discuss it with anyone. Yet, hearing her voice has he told her Marcel was dead, he knew that his baby sister never really mended that broken heart.

“No.” Klaus sighed. “I told Vincent, the agent and my boss who came down from D.C.” Caroline nodded, understanding who he was speaking of. “That once this case was over, I am done but the last thing I want to do is tell Marcel’s family. I know them. I’ve had Thanksgiving at his grandmother’s house the last two years. They should hear it from me.”

Caroline looked at him with a sympathetic gaze. Neither one had discussed what happens after. Neither knew what happened next. Klaus needed to go to New Orleans and pay respects to Marcel but after that, he just did not know where he was going. As for Caroline, he knew that she would have enough to baggage to deal with that he did not want to add to that. She needed heal; and in many ways so did he.

“Klaus.” Caroline moved away from his arms and moved to straddle his lap. She wrapped her broken arm around his shoulders and pressed her good hand to his face; pulling his gaze to her eyes. “You’re a good man Klaus. I know that you sometimes feel as though you’re not but the fact that you want to be the one to tell Marcel’s family what happened to him, just proves to me that you are. Not everyone would be able to do that.”

“He deserves it. He deserved so much better than a bullet to the head in his sleep.” Emotions welled up inside him. It was a mixture of so many different feelings colliding within him all at once. The stress from the case that had been weighing on him and the general burn out that his job had been providing in general was reaching its breaking point. Add in the events of the day and Klaus was truly ready to just give in.

The only thing that is keeping him sane was Caroline and the feelings he had stirring inside of him. He wanted to cling to that one positive emotion he had. He knew that it was not fair to her, to put that burden of his potential breakdown on her; but all he wanted to do was be selfish in that moment. He just wanted to hold her and feel something that wasn’t the blackness consuming his very soul. He was tired of grieving.

All he had done for years was grieve.

“We all deserve more than that. I think about Vicki and April and Andi and that woman Cami. I think about that cell and seeing their names written on the wall. I know what they suffered. The only difference is that I’m here to tell the tale, but I wish so much that they all were here.” Caroline leaned down and touched their foreheads together. “The only good thing that has come out of this entire mess is meeting you. You’ve been my anchor, keeping me grounded and strong. When the agents told me what happened, all I wanted was to comfort you.”

“I’m so sorry…for what I said.”

“Shh.” Caroline pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him. “I know. I know.” Caroline leaned down and kissed him on the lips gently. This kiss was different than the ones they shared previously. It was full of desire, but it was not heated like the night before; those had been passion filled and while those meant the world to Klaus, this kiss held the same amount of desire but held more meaning to it.

When Caroline broke the kiss, her eyes held a question that Klaus desperately wanted to answer. He should do the opposite. He should get up from that couch and walk out the door. He should go to the bed and breakfast Vincent rented out and not do what every ounce of his being wanted. He thought on Marcel and everything that was lost in this god-forsaken town and he knew his decision was made.

Caroline stood, leaving his embrace and held out her good hand; wiggling her fingers in the process. Not needing to think twice, Klaus mingled his fingers with hers, letting her pull him from the couch. She led him out of the living room, passing a sleeping Enzo who had curled up in his dog bed by the armchair. She pushed open the door to her bedroom, a room he had not been in since the day he came to check out her house. It was the same; clean and orderly. Yet, it was not the room or its decor that Klaus was focused on.

The look in Caroline’s eyes made Klaus’s heart flutter. There was desire, longing and most importantly understanding behind the orbs that had grown to fascinate him. He needed her in that moment, and he knew that this was not just about what he wanted but a connection she needed as well.

Caroline reached down and pulled the grey and rumpled Henley from the confines of his jeans. She pulled it over his head, his arms raised allowing her to do so and tossed it on the floor; not caring that it wasn’t folded neatly. His bare chest was exposed to her and she leaned in, kissing a light trail of kisses across it. Her lips made contact with black tattoo of birds on his shoulder. Her tongue peaked out and Klaus groaned at the feeling of it tracing parts of his tattoo.

Needing to touch her, Klaus trailed his fingers over her arms gently and placed his hands on her hips; this thumb tracing the part of her skin that peaked out from her tank top. Slowly, he pulled the shirt upward and over her head. Caroline stood before him in a simple white bra and it was the most beautiful sight Klaus had seen in a long time. It almost felt like coming home after a long time away.

Klaus leaned down and kissed her again. Their lips touched one another softly while Caroline’s hand ran down the length of his chest. Her nails left light marks that were not painful but made Klaus moan into her mouth. Caroline reached for his belt and began to undo it but in a moment of clarity, Klaus took her wrist into his hand; stalling her movements.

“Are you sure? I need to know if you want this.” He looked at her imploringly. He could not take advantage of her if she was not sure. He knew that she was in a fragile state and despite the fact that she clearly felt something for him, he could not have her regretting their time together.

“Yes. I want this. More than anything. Do you?” Klaus did not need to answer her but instead just kissed her a little deeper this time. He kicked off his shoes and moved them to the side. Caroline worked on his belt buckle again and pulled down the zipper of his pants; slipping her hand inside. She gripped his member, causing Klaus to hiss through his teeth.

“Caroline.” He rested his forehead against hers again, enjoying the feeling of her stroking him for a few moments before stopping her. He pushed his jeans down to his ankles, boxers following suit and Caroline chuckled lightly as he stumbled; not feeling even a little ashamed that she ogled his naked body. Klaus smiled widely and for the first time, Caroline got a glimpse of his dimples; ones that only shown when truly smiled. She leaned up and kissed each one on his cheeks.

Klaus reached behind her and unclasped her bra, knowing that it would be difficult for her to do it herself when one hand was in a cast. Much like their other clothing, Klaus tossed her bra to the ground and took in the sight of her breasts. He reached out to cup her, his thumb running over her erect nipple.

“Ahh…Klaus.” Caroline breathed out in a moan. He could see her legs press together as though trying to get some type of friction. The sight caused Klaus to smile gently at her. He kissed her again before dropping to his knees. He unfastened her shorts, kissing her skin at the top of the denim fabric. He slipped the shorts down her long legs. Caroline stepped out of them and Klaus took on of her legs and put it over his shoulder. He kissed the inside of her thigh, slowly heading towards her center. He placed a soft kiss on the fabric that kept her covered as Caroline weaved her fingers through his blond hair. “No.” She tugged on his head and following her command, Klaus stood. “Bed.”

Much like she had done in the living room, Caroline pulled him gently towards the bed. She laid down on it, her hair spreading out on the pillows and her arms rested outstretched beside her as though they were angel wings. Klaus crawled onto the bed and over her; Caroline spread her legs wide for him, allowing him to fit easily. Klaus leaned down and kissed her stomach as his fingers looped into the sides of her panties and pulled them down her legs. Gazing at her completely naked body, Klaus decided that he had never seen a more perfect sight.

“Beautiful.” He took his finger and ran it up her slit, feeling her juices and Caroline’s head falling back at the contact. Slowly, he inserted one finger and then another. He pumped them in and out of her, Caroline mewling and whimpering at the feel of him. When his thumb touched her clitoris, her good hand gripped the headboard behind her and her backed arched. “Let it out Caroline. Let go.”

“God yes.” She cried as her soft release climbed over her. Klaus took a moment to watch her and admire how the flush of the heat crawled over her skin. He leaned down and kissed her, allowing her body to relax again. “Condom. Bedside table.”

Understanding, Klaus reached over and pulled open the drawer. He bypassed the few sex toys and went for the condoms. He opened the unused box and took one package out. He ripped it open, knowing that Caroline would have some difficulty doing so with one hand. He sat up on his knees and tossed the foil aside. Caroline propped herself up on her elbow, watching as he pulled the latex condom over his penis. Once it was in place, Caroline laid back down on her back and Klaus settled over her. Taking himself in hand, Klaus aligned himself with Caroline’s entrance and slowly pushed in.

His jaw slacked and an undignified tone slipped past his lips; but he didn’t care. The feeling of Caroline surrounding him was more than he expected. She was warm, tight and perfect. When he was able to open his eyes and look down at her, he could not help but be taken aback by the intensity of her gaze. This wasn’t just about sex. It wasn’t about the relief or pleasure that they achieved by the act.

It was more than that.

It was the comfort the both needed in the hands of the other. It was the connection they both wanted. It was the sense that the entire world has not completely crumbled down around them. It was the knowledge that they both had found something in the darkness that surrounded them that was worth hanging onto. It was a need they both had and were willing to share with one another. Klaus leaned down and kissed her again; unable to help himself. He rolled his hips gently and slowly. The movements were long and angled. He withdrew completely before slipping back inside her; Caroline matching his every move.

Klaus never took his eyes off of her. He watched every expression that flashed over her face. She tossed him small smiles, ones that he could not help but return. Caroline’s good hand drew small invisible designs on his back before moving to rest on the small of his back. Klaus traced small caresses on her body, his touch fluttering and light. Klaus could feel his release building and knew that Caroline would need help getting to that point again. He reached between them where their bodies were connected and touched the place where her bundle of nerves were located. Much like his previous caresses, his touch was light and gentle.

“Klaus.” Caroline said to him as her body hit that release; her eyes looking at him through ever second. Watching how her lips parts and the relief flow through her blue eyes was enough for him to still over her. His own release overcame him, and his heart began beating wildly. He rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling together. Once they calmed down and their breathing returned to normal, Caroline let out a happy giggle; a sound that Klaus knew he did not want to be the last time he heard it.

When Klaus woke the next morning, Caroline was already up and coming out of the shower. It was early and he knew that he would have to head into the station soon. When he pulled himself from the bed, the two shared a heated look and a secret smile; their minds traveling to the night before and the many times they had one another in that bed. Caroline flushed a beautiful shade of red before heading over to the bed and sitting down beside him.

“I’ll make breakfast.” Caroline leaned down to kiss his lips before heading out of her bedroom; Klaus’s eyes watching her as she went. Klaus smiled as he pulled his naked body from her sheets and walked over to the black bag he had sat beside her dresser at some point during the night; after their first round of sex. He grabbed his bathroom supplies and a change of clothes before heading into the shower.

As the hot water sprayed down his body, enjoying the pressure and realizing that the motel showers were far worse than he realized. Klaus groaned slightly as he thought back on that motel room and Marcel. Even though being in Caroline’s arms the night before helped calm him, the devastation over his friend’s death still lingered. It added another layer of desperation to find this psychopath; and it no longer was just for Caroline, but for Marcel as well.

Klaus’s thoughts moved towards the day at hand. He knew that Vincent was not going to be pleased with him and probably already knew that Klaus stayed at Caroline’s overnight. Between Vincent being a damn good agent and the fact that agents were watching Caroline’s house, it was bound to be obvious that Klaus was there. Klaus knew that if they did not have more pressing matters to attend to Vincent would be grilling him. Klaus paused in the sound and groaned, forgetting a key detail he did not mention to Caroline.

Elena.

With everything that happened the day before, Marcel, fighting with Caroline and then coming to her home, remembering that they had arrested Elena slipped his mind. He was certain that the attorney would be there first thing and they would begin to grill the girl, he wanted to ensure that Caroline heard it from him and not a third party.

Because she would. Either Liz would tell her, or Bonnie would pounce the moment she found out. It is bound to spread around town quickly that Elena was held in connection to the murders and Klaus really wanted to avoid fighting with her again. Plucking up his remaining courage, Klaus turned off the shower, dressed and made his way out to the kitchen.

Caroline was busy trying to make breakfast, but Klaus could see that she was having difficulty cooking with one hand. The look of concentration on her face made Klaus pause. She was determined to crack an egg with on hand and she was doing well, but when a shell obviously fell into the yolk, she gave out a huff of irritation. Her nose crinkled in frustration and she bit her lip with determination; doing the best she could to scoop out the shell.

Klaus was struck by how beautiful she was. Her hair was still wet from her shower and tossed into a messy bun. Her face was scrubbed and fresh, no makeup on and completely unaware how lovely she looked. Just seeing her made Klaus’s stomach twist and lurch into his throat. It was a feeling that he was not familiar with. A feeling he was not ready to name yet.

“Hey!” Caroline’s voice stirred him from his musing. Her smile was wide and happy. Klaus, unable to contain his own smiles, met her gaze. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist; kissing the top of her head. “I’m attempting to make breakfast, but it’s been a challenge.”

“Clearly.” Klaus teased and Caroline shot him a look of mock fury. “Let me take over. Take your coffee and sit down.” Caroline looked as though she was going to protest but decided that not to. Instead she picked up her coffee and went to sit on one of the bar stools as she watched Klaus take over making some scrambled eggs and bacon. “What are your plans for today?”

“Not sure.” Caroline shrugged. “I haven’t been to the office since…well, this started. My boss gave me FMLA and is giving me extended leave but part of me wants to get back to normal.” Klaus nodded, understanding her need for normalcy. Klaus piled up Caroline’s plate with food and handed it to her; Enzo coming over, realizing that Caroline had food. “What about you?”

“Well, there is something I need to tell you. I should have last night, but we got distracted.” Caroline shot him a look and her cheeks flushed bright red; their minds traveling to the previous night. Klaus coughed slightly before turning back to his own food that he was making. “We have someone in custody.” Caroline’s eyes grew wide and Klaus held up his hand. “Not the killer. We don’t think she had anything to do with murders or kidnapping directly.”

“She?”

“Elena.”

“What?”

“A few months ago, she was suspended for taking a large quantity of medication from the hospital she works at.” Caroline’s mouth was still agape, and she couldn’t look away from him. Klaus placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her but she didn’t seem to notice. “The same type of medication that was used to drug you and the other woman.” Caroline slumped back against her seat, processing everything he just told her. “Damon all but paid off the hospital in order for Elena to keep her job. The drugs were never recovered.”

“Of course, he did.” Caroline replied with a bitter snort. Klaus watched her, moving around the island and sat down beside her with his own food in hand; his black coffee in the other. He could see the fury burning behind her eyes and with the shake of her head; he knew that Caroline’s good mood evaporated. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

“I don’t know Sweetheart.” He took a bite of food, ignoring Enzo’s begging and continued to look at Caroline. “But it’s good. It means we are closer to finding who did this. Elena refused to talk, lawyering up but once she tells us what she knows, hopefully we can make an arrest soon.”

“A lawyer Damon probably paid for.” Caroline had a sour look on her face and Klaus could not blame her. Damon had done horrible things to her and here was someone who claimed to be her friend, digging the knife into her back deeper and deeper. After a moment, she reached beside her and gripped Klaus’s hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course.” Klaus replied. The two of them continued to eat in silence, Caroline picking at her food more so than actually eating anything. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but Klaus felt that if he pushed Caroline to talk, she would snap. It wasn’t until they both were done eating and Caroline walked him to the door that she spoke again.

“Will you come by tonight? If you can?” Caroline asked in a vunerabale tone. Klaus wanted nothing more than to tell her that he would be there; but knew that he could not make a promise he could not keep.

“If I can. I will. If something happens and I can’t, I will let you know.” Caroline nodded and Klaus leaned down to kiss her. The kiss was gentle and full of promise; the memory of the night they shared passed through them. He wanted to stay with her and in the small bubble they created for themselves. He did not know if he could face walking into that station without Marcel being there.

“Okay. Be safe.” They shared one last kiss, before Klaus walked through the front door.

Neither realizing the chaos the day had instore from them.

As Klaus was walking down the lane to his SUV, he saw Vanchure leaning against his; a coffee in one hand and a phone in the other. Even from several feet away, Klaus could see the amused smirk playing on the other agent’s face. As Klaus climbed into his own vehicle, he knew that Vanchure was informing their boss that he was on his way to the station and it was only second before he heard Vincent’s yell as he stepped through the front doors.

“Mikaelson! In here. Now.”

Klaus sighed and headed towards Liz’s office that Vincent had taken over. Once he stepped inside, he saw the corkboard that used to set up in the conference room on the other side of the office and the files spread across Liz’s desk. Vincent was pacing the office, dressed in the exact same suit from the day before. Klaus wondered if he had left the station at all but from the looks of him, Klaus doubted it.

“Tell me right now, why spending the night at a key witness’s house last night was a good idea.” Vincent’s tone was hard, and Klaus could see that he was close to losing his temper. If this had been any other day, Klaus would have been worried that he just ruined his career but in the light of everything, he found he just did not care.

“What does it matter?”

“What does it matter?! Are you fucking serious right now?” Vincent looked at him as though he had lost his mind, but Klaus just glared right back at him. There really was nothing Vincent could do to him that would make him regret being with Caroline. “Did you have sex with her?”

“Not that it is any of your business but yes. I did.” Klaus was unsure how Caroline would feel if she knew that he just confessed to sleeping with her to his boss, but he knew he could not lie about that. It happened and he would not take it back, even if meant facing is boss’s fury. Vincent sunk down into his chair and massaged his head as though he was pressing a migraine away.

“Jesus Christ, Klaus. Do you not see the position you’ve put me in?” Vincent looked at him, but Klaus showed him no regret or sympathy, but he refrained from smirking at him or seeming to proud. “I should take you off this case immediately and send you back to Washington.”

“I already quite.”

“You turned in your resignation but are still my agent until then and if I deem it necessary to send your ass packing, I will do so.”

“I’m not leaving.” Klaus told him and by his tone Vincent knew that even if he removed Klaus from this case, there was no getting him to leave town until everything was solved. “Should I have not gone to Caroline’s last night. Probably. But I don’t regret it. I care for her. I was hurting, angry and I said some things to her that I needed to apologize for. I never intended to stay but I don’t regret that I did.” Vincent just looked at him, listening. “Marcel was just murdered. The man who I called a close friend is dead at the hands of this monster. Throw me off the case if you want but that does not mean I’ll stop working it.”

“You fucked up Klaus.” Vincent told him. “But taking you off this case would be stupid and detrimental. You were right yesterday when you said that you knew this case.” Vincent leaned back in his chair, eyes closed and appeared far older than Klaus had seen him. “I spent half the night on the phone with the director. He wants this solved. Marcel’s death makes the bureau look bad and he is concerned that reporters will get wind of it.”

“To be honest. I don’t give a flying fuck what the bureau looks like right now.” Klaus told him and Vincent snorted. “I take it that I’m not packing my bags?”

“Even if I told you to, it is not like you would listen.” Vincent replied and Klaus silently agreed. He wasn’t leaving town until the killer was apprehended. He already lost Marcel; he could not risk losing Caroline as well. “Ms. Gilbert’s attorney arrived a little over an hour ago. She wants to talk.”

“Then why are we in here?” Klaus asked him blankly and Vincent just shot him an annoyed look; telling him that he was on thin ice. The former of the two just shot his superior an antagonizing smirk and Vincent just shook his head before standing. Klaus followed Vincent out of the office and towards the interrogation rooms at the other end of the station.

“I’m taking the lead today. Got it?” Vincent told him and Klaus just nodded before pushing open the interrogation door. Elena was seated across the table, no longer in the scrubs from the previous day but instead a pair of jeans, a tank top and her hair was combed through. Someone had provided her attorney with a change of clothes; Klaus bet it was Damon.

Klaus’s eyes turned to the other woman who was seated beside Elena. She had short brown hair that reached her chin. Even though she was seated, Klaus could tell that she was tall. She wore a tight pencil shirt and a white blouse that he was willing to bet cost more than his weekly salary. When the two of them entered, the attorney stood and held out her hand.

“Rose-Marie Porter. Ms. Gilbert’s attorney.” Both Vincent and Klaus grasped it tightly. He was impressed with her grip and how she held Klaus’s gaze without flinching. She appeared young but also very good at her job.

“Supervisory Special Agent Vincent Griffiths and this is Special Agent Klaus Mikaelson.” Vincent preformed the introductions, seating himself across from Elena and Rose-Marie. Klaus followed suit, sitting himself across from Rose-Marie but he never took his eyes off of Elena; whose gaze was still down casted towards the steel table. “I understand you want to speak with us.”

“Yes, but first I want to offer my condolences on the loss of your agent. It is a tragedy and I am sorry for it.” Neither Vincent nor Klaus moved but they both could see what she was trying to do; build repour with the agents in hopes of lessening any charges Elena may face. “I’ve advised my client of her rights and any consequences she may face if she withholds information in a federal investigation. She has decided that there is something you need to know.”

“And that is?” Vincent asked her but Elena stayed silent. They both could see her thinking and wavering back and forth between confessing and staying silent. Rose-Marie placed her hand on Elena’s forearm and whispered something to her. “Ms. Gilbert?”

“You have to understand, I didn’t realize how deep this went. I never intended for those women to die. God, I didn’t even know that anything like that was happening. When Caroline was kidnapped, I never connected the dots or thought they were connected in anyway. What Caroline suffered and is going through, and knowing I played a part in it, I’m so sorry.” Elena pleaded, looking at Klaus and for the first time since meeting her, Klaus actually believed that she was telling the truth.

“You can help Ms. Forbes by telling us what you know.” Vincent implored her but Elena was still gazing at Klaus. There were tears pooling in her eyes and he could see the genuine regret eating at her. She made so many mistakes and now she was paying the price, but Klaus was beginning to realize that while Elena was selfish, she was not a horrible person at her core.

“Please Elena. For Caroline.” Klaus implored her, his eyes burning into her. Elena was reading him in a way that Klaus didn’t realize she was capable of doing. He could tell that even after everything she had done, she still cared for Caroline; Klaus just wondered if it was enough.

“You really care about her?” Klaus did not respond, nor did he look at Vincent who he was sure was resisting the urge to groan in frustration; the news of Klaus staying with Caroline still fresh in his mind. “Good. She needs that.” Elena took a deep breath as though she was gathering her strength. “Back in November, I was asked to steal a large amount of Dilaudid from the hospital pharmacy.”

“By who?”

“My brother. Jeremy Gilbert.”

“Why?”

“After our parents died, we were in high school at the time and Jeremy went on a downward spiral. He started doing drugs and getting into a lot of trouble. My Aunt Jenna and I did everything we could to get him clean, several stunts in rehab and it worked for a while; but not until he broke up with Vicki Donovan. He found out she had cheated on him and ended it.”

“He dated Ms. Donovan?” Klaus asked, the news sounded familiar and he wondered where he had heard it before. A flash of resignation came to him and the memory of Tyler Lockwood admitting that he had sex with Vicki in high school in the Lockwood cellars. Elena nodded her head in confirmation, Klaus’s thoughts running a thousand miles per hour. “Did he tell you why he needed the Dilaudid?”

“No.” Elena replied. “Even once he stopped using, he still hung around a bad crowd. He had trouble keeping a steady job and was picked up once in Richmond for dealing. Stefan and I had to go and bail him out. We kept it quiet because we didn’t the town turning against Jeremy and keeping him from having a normal life. He made a few mistakes and paid for them. When he came back to Mystic Falls, everything seemed to get better. He started dating Anna and she was good at keeping him on the straight and narrow. He got a job at one of the warehouses just outside of town, I thought he was doing okay. I thought he had stopped associating with his old friends.”

“Until…”

“Until in November when he said he was in trouble.” Elena crossed her arms and shook her head. “He said that he was back to dealing. He promised a certain number of drugs to a dealer in Richmond but wasn’t able to come through. If he didn’t deliver the drugs, the dealer was going to kill him.”

“Did he give you a name?”

“No. He wouldn’t tell me.” Elena paused, thinking before pressing onward. “Stefan was out of town on business, so I went to Damon. Told him what was going on and Damon tried to talk some sense into Jeremy, but Jeremy wouldn’t tell him anything. Damon offered to give whoever the dealer was money instead. When Jeremy proposed this to, whomever it was, he showed up at the boarding house pretty beaten up. He said that the money would not work, that it had to be drugs. Dilaudid specifically.”

“And he did not tell you why it had to be Dilaudid or who needed it?” Vincent asked her again and Elena shook her head. Tears were falling down her face and if Marcel had not been murdered, Klaus might have felt sympathy for her. While he could appreciate the hard situation she found herself in, but she made all the wrong choices. “So, you stole the drugs from the hospital.”

“Yes.” Elena admitted. “I had hoped that I wouldn’t be caught but these things are traced heavily. I gave the drugs to Jeremy in hopes that it would make whoever was threatening him go away and it did. I think. To be honest, it wasn’t long before the hospital realized that the drugs were missing and that I took them. Damon paid the hospital off and I faced a suspension but that is it.”

“You should have lost your job, at the very least. You still might and there is a good chance you will never be able to finish your residency.” Vincent told her and Elena nodded in agreement, knowing that her future suddenly became very unclear. Klaus wondered if Vincent was going to speak with the acting DA and have charges filed against Elena, but Klaus knew that a deal most likely would be made in exchange for Elena’s cooperation and testimony at trial. While she may lose her job, she could avoid jail time if she cooperates.

“I know.” Elena looked down at her hands but seemed completely unsurprised. Her attorney did a very good job at explaining the consequences and outcomes of such an investigation. Rose-Marie leaned over and whispered something to Elena, who nodded. “A few other details you should know. I don’t know if they hold any relevancy, but I want to be fully transparent.”

“Okay. Continue.”

“I never told Stefan about any of this. Stefan travels a lot for work. He is a sales representative for a company based in Norfolk. I just told him that I had taken some time off when he came home. He didn’t question it. I also started sleeping with Damon around then.” Vincent nodded while Klaus just continued to stare at her.

“Anything else?”

“Yes. Um, that day you and your partner came to my Uncles home.” Elena looked towards Klaus and nodded in remembrance. “Anna, Jeremy’s girlfriend, had stopped by to tell me that Jeremy was freaking out. Damon had told me that you were asking about the Dilaudid and of course I started asking Anna questions. She has been skipping work and a bunch of other things because she is scared that if she leaves, Jeremy will wind up dead. I tried asking her if she knew who Jeremy gave the Dilaudid to and she says she doesn’t. That’s everything I know.”

“Now my client has been very forthcoming. She knows that her confession does not remove all forms of guilt but in hopes that her corporation will be taken into consideration if charges are pressed.” Rose-Marie interjected, and Vincent simply nodded.

“I will speak to the DA but I make no promises.” Vincent replied and Rose-Marie nodded in understanding. Vincent stood and Klaus followed suit, his mind going a mile a minute. He knew that Elena had a brother and he had heard that name somewhere before but could not place it.

“Can I go home?”

“Not yet.” Vincent told her. “But soon.” With that both Vincent and Klaus left the interrogation room, staying silent; thoughts rolling around in both their minds. Without needing to be told, Klaus rounded up a few agents while Vincent called the judge, requesting a warrant to bring in Jeremy Gilbert and to search his home. When Vincent was off the phone, he looked at Klaus. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if someone really was threatening Mr. Gilbert or if he is the killer.” Klaus mused as they climbed into the SUV; several agents heading towards their own. Vincent drove in the direction of the courthouse, to pick up the warrant that was in the process of being signed. “Seeing that the Dilaudid was still in Mystic Falls, the part about him owing a specific type of drug to a dealer in Richmond is clearly a lie but to what extent is he lying to his sister?”

“Well, we will find out.”

[reader-fics]

Ward (Part Two)

Find Part One here!

Warnings: suicide/assassination mention

A/N: So, it has been a while--three years or so. This story has been sitting in my drafts since April 11, 2017. Tumblr has changed so much. The Purge came and went. I have no idea how this editor works anymore. I have no idea what’s going on, to be quite frank. Anyway. This is for you all, who have stayed on through these years. Enjoy -B

"It's a good thing she's getting rest." A voice somewhere above the clouds stated optimistically.

"Yes, a good thing indeed." Another echoed, floating near another cloud.

Your head ached as if you harbored a nest of mice chewing and nibbling at your brain. You cringed just thinking of it. The voices above you were so irritating; you wanted nothing more than for them to stop. You groaned and were pleased to find that they did. Silence, comforting silence, surrounded you.

Slowly the aching in your head ebbed away like the tide going out and you were able to think clearly. You knew you were in Camelot, and what your name (and title) was, so you figured you couldn't have hit your head too hard. Before even opening your eyes you came to the conclusion that you were in the physician's chambers, or perhaps your own, and the voices you heard had to belong to the physician and perhaps his assistant. You opened your eyes. Yes, these chambers were your own.

There was no point in trying to feign sleep, you decided, so you shifted slightly to let the physician know you were awake.

"How is my aunt?" You demanded to know. Deep in your gut, you simply knew that she had to be dead, but a little voice inside desperately clung to the hope that she was not, that she was being treated the same as you and would be okay. The look on the physician's wrinkled face told you far more than words.

"I'm very sorry, your highness." He told you sincerely. "How are you feeling?"

You managed a shrug. In your present state of mind you did not notice how you were addressed as "your highness," rather than "lady," as befitting a ward. A commotion seemed to burst in through the door. You only managed to twist your body slightly to see the King coming towards you. Ah, a commotion indeed.

"Your highness, I'm glad to see you awake and well. We are very lucky you were not harmed." Arthur breezed, taking your hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Yes, I-I suppose so." You stuttered. How lucky could you be really? Your aunt, your only family in the world, was dead, and now she had left you in charge of a kingdom you didn't know was yours until only very recently!

"Tell me," your voice was stronger now, "what became of the perpetrator?"

You wanted to know the fate of the person who ripped your aunt away from you. Yes, it was magic that killed her, but you blamed the person, not the weapon. Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"He was immediately arrested and placed in a cell."

"Good," you nodded, "I should like to speak with him."

What you wanted to know was why. Why would he do this? Your aunt's kingdom was friendly to those with magic, so why target a friend rather than a foe. The handsome blond king in front of you was nothing but kind, but, if you were given a choice between his life and your aunt's, there would be no choice. Why her?

"The guards found him hanging there this morning." Arthur told you in a low voice. "His arms were bound and he was gagged. We don't think it was a suicide attempt; someone chose to kill him."

You didn't know how to respond. On one hand, you were glad in a twisted way that your aunt's murderer was dead. However, on the other you now had proof that the citizens of Camelot were not kind to magic. The whole ordeal made you feel sick. Arthur did not push the matter further, and you suspected it had a lot to do with the queasy look on your face.

He didn't protest when you asked both him and Gaius to leave the room.

The guard Arthur insisted stay near you nodded politely as he closed the door behind your leaving guests. You never really knew the proper decorum for dealing with a guard, so you just bowed your head in thanks and watched him take up his post on the other side as it swung shut. Once the door closed behind him, you allowed yourself to drop the semblance of tranquility and calm you were holding.

The full force of your aunt's death hit you like falling off a horse and hitting the ground. The air seemed to be pulled from your lungs and you were floating between right and wrong, day and night. Nothing seemed real, not except for the deep ache in your chest.

If she were still alive, she'd be here now at your bedside. You remembered a time, when you were younger, when you were dreadfully ill and she, even while ruling as queen, kept a constant vigil at your bedside. She soothed your fears and was a comforting presence during those dark times.

Though she never let you call her mother--"I'm not your mother, my love. She was a much better woman than I am"--some times you simply couldn't help but think it. And now she was gone. Oh gods. Your throat tightened up and you struggled to breath again.

Your eyes slammed shut and hot tears forced their way down your face. You buried your face in your hands, wishing that everything could just go back to normal. Wrenching sobs wracked your chest, but a noise outside the door alerted you to attention.

"Your highness? Are you alright?" You heard someone ask, knocking softly on the door. You assumed that it was one of Arthur's servants he'd sent to look after you; if you sent him back Arthur would only send more. You didn't want him to worry about you. As you were just now discovering, crown rulers had numerous things to think about at all times. You wiped your eyes quickly and turned your back to the door, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders. Maybe you could pretend to be sleeping and send him away quickly.

"Yes, I'm fine, but you may as well come in." You sighed. As royalty, Aunt Lysa had warned you that you'd never have privacy when you wanted it. Apparently that also extended to mourning.

The serving boy opened the door and stuck his head in halfway, almost apologetically. When you didn't protest, he stepped all the way through the door and closed it behind him. Now that you could see him entirely, you recognized him from the feast. He had been bickering with the king over whether or not it was proper for him to wear his hat--a monstrosity of feathers and velvet, really. In the end, Merlin won and the hat lay discarded for the evening. The memory made you smile slightly, a small ray of sunshine in the otherwise desolate world. As the firelight glinted in his eyes you remembered one more thing--he was also the one to pull you away from the danger.

You may have owed him your life.

"Arthur sent me to check up on you." He explained. "He knows what it's like to lose someone you love. He had a sister..."

Morgana. You knew. She had been missing for nearly a year now. Word had spread quickly throughout the kingdoms to look for her, but everyone feared the worst. Either she didn't want to be found or she was dead. You nodded understandingly. Poor Arthur.

"You may tell Arthur that I'm fine." You sighed. "If that's all..."

"Forgive me for being bold, my lady--your highness," Merlin cringed at his blunder, "but you're very clearly not fine."

You laughed hoarsely, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

"Your powers of observation are in-credible. How much does Arthur pay you?"

"Not nearly enough." He confessed, shrugging his lanky shoulders awkwardly.

You laughed at this, but immediately felt guilty. Still, it felt good to laugh. Talking with Merlin distracted you. Maybe that was Arthur's intention of sending him in the first place.

Over the next few days, Merlin was a frequent visitor at your bedside. Your head had sustained a bit of a massive injury, and Gaius didn't want to risk you hurting yourself any more, so you were restricted to bed rest. Merlin always seemed to bring the outside in with him, with stories of the Knights and whatever stupid trouble Arthur had gotten himself into recently, and those visits soon became the best part of your day.

One evening, Merlin stayed later than usual, not leaving to serve Arthur his dinner as he usually did.

"The prat actually gave me a night off, can you believe it?" He grinned, pulling up his favorite chair. You gently smiled in response.

"Merlin, if this is your only night off, by all means don't feel like you have to spend it here with me."

"Why? I like spending time with you. Besides, Gaius would like me to improve my patient management skills. How do you feel, patient?"

"Managed." You joked.

As the two of you sat and talked, the sun set and soon your room was rather dark, save for the fire in the fireplace and the few candles on the desk. You had a candle on your night table, and that seemed like the obvious solution.

It was an accident, really. You weren't thinking. That was your problem--Lysa would always tell you; you never thought before you acted. Before you could even think of the consequences, you'd used a little bit of magic to created a flame on the candle on the table for light. You heard Merlin gasp.

"Y-you have magic?"

You stared at him quizzically for a moment, thinking. If he betrayed you to the guards, what were the odds of you surviving? You really weren't sure, but, considering that Lysa was already dead there wasn't a terrible amount left for you to live for. Even if it would get you killed, why not tell the servant about magic? A fine idea, really.

"I know a little magic. Well, it's not much at all. Every bit I've got I had to fight for. Lysa believed that a good ruler had to know about all of her subjects. The magic users were simply the more marginalized ones."

"Oh." Was all that Merlin could say.

"I supposed you'll want to run off to Arthur and have me arrested." You sighed, wishing you'd heeded Lysa's advice and been more careful. You blew out the candle, watching the smoke rise and dissipate as if it were erasing all evidence.

"No! Well, actually, it'd be very silly for me to run off to Arthur. I'd be the biggest hypocrite."

"Oh?" You pursed your lips, parroting his word back at him.

Merlin merely raised his hand and the flame grew back where it had been. He used magic, just as you had done.

"That's vexing." You commented. "How could one of Arthur's closest friends keep such a big secret?"

Merlin reddened.

"I do it so he won't have to make that choice, to let me live or break the law. I wouldn't want to put him in that situation."

"I see." Such a thing would never happen in Lysa's kingdom. Perhaps Arthur had as much to learn from you as you did from him.

"Do you really protect magic users in your kingdom?" Merlin burst out asking, as if the question had been bothering him all day.

"Of course. They're people too, and have every right to be." You told him firmly. Aunt Lysa told you the same thing when you were young, frightened of the unknown.

"I've been told magic has no place in Camelot. D'you think that's true?"

"Well, you're here and I'm here and we both have magic, so I'd say that there is a place here."

The next few days quickly turned into weeks and then months while you were amidst a whirl of funerary preparations and beyond. There was no way you could successfully take Lysa's body back to be burned in her home kingdom, so Arthur graciously built her a pyre worthy of a queen. You were the one to light the torch, making a big show of doing it with flint and stone when you really just used your magic. It felt better that way, more elemental and natural.

As you watched the flames lick at the sky, you couldn't help but feel more alone than you ever had, even with Arthur on one side and Merlin at the other. Lysa, your last living family member, was gone and she left you enough responsibility for a lifetime. Too much, even.

How on earth could you rule without her?

Arthur had graciously advocated for your coronation ceremony to be held in Camelot, rather than returning all the way home to be legally allowed to rule and then coming back to finally get on with the peace treaties. You didn't want any more delays.

You requested that the ceremony be brief and austere. Out of respect for Lysa, it was done. No banquet was arranged, no orchestra merrily playing. Arthur, being the highest power in the kingdom, was the one to formally crown you. There was no one from Lysa's kingdom of a reputable stature to do it, so it had to be him. As you knelt before him, listening to the bland words of politics and formal sanctions, he lowered the crown onto your head.

The weight of it startled you.

It was cold, and heavy, and so unlike anything you'd expected. You remained kneeling, staring at the floor and simply allowing yourself to feel. Gods, you felt this gnawing emptiness inside. The floor hurt your knees, the crown hurt your head, the circumstances hurt... everything.

"Y/N?" Arthur gently prompted. There were no spectators, no one but Merlin, there to gasp at the breach of decorum. It was just the three of you.

"Are you alright?" Camelot's king asked the new queen.

"I don't know." You replied in a halting voice, straightening up. Arthur's hand was immediately there offering assistance and you gladly took it.

"Is your crown this uncomfortable too?" You asked. Arthur laughed heartily, nodding.

"It's unbearable." He agreed.

Following dinner that evening, you cornered Merlin in your chambers when he visited, more by habit now than anything else. You were seated staring out the window and Merlin was puttering around with the fireplace, adjusting the decorative objects on the mantle out of boredom.

"Merlin, I need your help." You lowered your voice, looking out into the courtyard below.

"Yeah?" He replied casually. Even to a Queen his manners were still the same. You wouldn't have it any other way. Turning to face him, you twisted your fingers together in your lap.

"I need a distraction." You said.

"Oh?" He replied, brushing his hands on his trousers and crossing the room to the window in a few long strides. "How can I help?"

"Make me stop thinking." You looked up at him helplessly.

As if the words were a gods-given command, Merlin snapped into action and his lips were on yours in an instant, a hand wound possessively in your hair. For a moment, it was everything. It was the press of his body against yours, it was the smell of his skin, it was the taste of his lips. After that moment it all cleared away and it was a blissful nothingness that took its place.

The steadfast, proper queen you had become was able to rest, to walk away, leaving behind the person with desires and needs. You grabbed and you took what you needed, decorum be damned.

Skin sweaty and bare, you tangled in each other's arms and let the candles burn themselves out. In the quietest hours of the night was your mind the most active. Fears and anxieties about the future crept in.

"Merlin," you whispered into the darkness, "I don't know how to rule a kingdom."

"If it's any consolation," came his response, "I don't either."

You grinned sheepishly, staring up in the general direction of the cieling. Merlin rolled over so that he could kiss the bare skin on your shoulder, lips warm on cool flesh. You absentmindedly combed your fingers through his hair, and he rested his head next to yours on the pillow.

"But you're not a queen. You don't have to rule." You continued, pursuing your lips. Surely by now news had already traveled home that Lysa was dead. How on earth will they react when you return? Alone?

"True," he considered, feeling the weight of the word on his tongue. What did it mean to rule? Arthur certainly wouldn't be sitting on the throne if it weren't for Merlin, so did that make him a ruler, too? Merlin wrinkled his nose. God, he hoped not.

"The success of a king--or queen--is as much dependent on their subjects as their prowess in ruling." He said thoughtfully.

"How philosophical of you." You rolled your eyes.

"I suppose you'll just have to take it one day at a time. Start with these peace treaties. No. Start with just one. One treaty. One doctrine. Then the next." Merlin kissed your forehead.

"I suppose so." You replied, feeling at peace for the first time since before you left Lysa's kingdom.

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Manga Review - Secret of the Princess

As much as I adore all the recent amazing yuri works I have the pleasure of reviewing, it is nice on occasion to take a look at some old favorites. Of course, Secret of the Princess is not exactly old, given that the story originally began serialization in 2012 and was released as a volume in 2015. However, I am in my twenties and living in modern America, so just last Tuesday feels like it happened a few years back. Secret of the Princess is an excellent single-volume high school yuri romance by Milk Morinaga. 

Secret of the Princess begins when first-year student Miu Nishie witnesses the school idol and captain of the volleyball team Nagisa Fujiwara accidentally break a priceless vase. Fujiwara, desperate to keep the incident under wraps, promises that she will do anything to buy Miu’s silence. Miu’s response, that they start dating. However, Miu only wishes to “fake date.” She is obsessed with ensuring that she can always look cute, be good at cooking, and be the perfect wife to her future prince. Miu sees dating Fujiwara as a way to practice dating.

Naturally, as this is a yuri manga and by Milk Morinaga, the two characters eventually realize they like each other, some drama ensues, and it gets nice and gay. This plot is the classic fake dating trope story. However, the brilliance of the manga lies in its characters and their growth throughout the story.

As previously stated, Miu is determined to be the perfect wife to her potential future husband. This desire stems from her mother, who constantly tells her how to become a better woman for her man, learning to cook, avoiding sunlight, and looking pretty. However, through her relationship with Fujiwara and her classmates' reaction to it, she grows as a person. For example, when some of her classmates decided to stop being fans of Fujiwara because of her (fake) relationship with Miu, the latter defends her and, after realizing some of her feelings for Fujiwara, she becomes more assertive in their relationship.

Fujiwara is the unreachable school idol, adored by younger classmen for her athletic prowess and boyish appearance, which lead Miu to see her as a prince. In reality, as Mui finds out by growing closer to the aloof girl, she is somewhat childish, displaying a huge admiration for action and zombie movies. Just as Miu does, Fujiwara begins to come out of her shell. She is encouraged by her partner to sit with some classmates at lunch who she shares her love of zombie movies with.

Secret of the Princess plays with a few of the traditional yuri tropes. While the story is set in an all-girls high school and the main couple even consists of a kohai and senpai, the final act and epilogue break it away from the sterile platonic relationships of S yuri. The characters of Miu and Fujiwara are physically intimate and affectionate with each other once their romance moves on from fake to real dating. The manga also breaks the trend of most prince characters by having Miu start to see Fujiwara not as her prince but as the princess she did not know she would love, ending the book on the fantastic line, “A princess can be awakened by another princess’s kiss.”

There are two aspects of the story I strongly disliked. The first is Miu’s mother, who gives her appalling advice and raises her daughter to be a perfect wife, ugh. To her credit, she does embrace that Miu loves another woman, although she seems more happy to hear about Fujiwara’s wealth than to learn her child is happy. So, congratulations to her, she has officially been granted a “not as totally awful as you could be” award. However, while I despise the character, her presence does not reflect badly on the manga. Her dreadful influence gives Miu something to grow away from as she and her relationship mature.

My second issue with the plot is much more severe. In the final act, during all the drama and confusion, Miu runs to the school roof and stands on the railing, as if poised to jump. Yes, this reckless action does heighten the tension and make it even nicer when she and Fujiwara confess and the latter bridal carries the smaller girl, but that does not save the scene. This is not okay nor is it how suicidal action work. There are warning signs, mental illness, multiple other factors. Healthy people do not want to jump off a roof because they are having a tough time confessing to their fake girlfriend. I do not claim to be a mental health professional or anything, I am just a teacher, but I do enough in this field that I feel pretty competent saying that this is just wrong. I am disgusted by this chapter and even I have a hard time looking past this problematic scene.

On that note, if you are ever in crisis, call 1-800-273-8255, text “HOME” to 741741, or look up a local resource for your country.

Now, in the most awkward transition I have ever written, let’s talk about the art. Morinaga is as fantastic as ever, her style shines through in her excellent use of blank and colored space, her backgrounds, cute characters, and bob cuts (oh yes the bob cuts). The art is simply sublime and makes the book a joy to read.

Secret of the Princess is not full of service, but it does have a few kisses and one notable scene where the women are lying together naked, although nothing is shown. It feels appropriate and never gross or unnecessary, a complaint I frequently have the opportunity to make with other works. If you want something a little more steamy, though thankfully still not explicit, there is a short epilogue containing more service than the entire rest of the volume.

Milk Morinaga is a mangaka who I either love or dislike, depending on the work. She has incredible highs and some unfortunate lows but Secret of the Princess is blessedly on the side of the former, making it one of my favorite works by her. It features excellent art, appropriate and limited service, and an excellent and dramatic story. I have only one major qualm with the manga for a single ridiculous narrative choice, but the good far outweighs that blunder. I strongly recommend you read Secret of the Princess if you missed it when it first came out a few years back.

You can purchase it digitally or in paperback today: Secret of the Princess - https://amzn.to/2Ytsolq

Ratings: Story – 6 Characters – 8 Art – 9 LGBTQ – 6 Lewd – 3 Final – 8