#she who typically is calm as still water in suffering their wrongs but can lose her temper as well as roger if pressed.

[tortoisesshells]

#but ... man. i happened upon that line of david's and i simply. yelling. in context... does it mean much? not really.#other than .. partially gesturing to the shared evolution in their relationship with david — from david's hatred and wanting them dead#to open affection and protection. but anyway … their parallelism compels me. their matching outfits!#as though they were … not perfect mirrors to each other‚ but contorted ones. not quite foils‚ less than doubles.#a reflection in water — not silver.#Roger’s likeness to Vicki doesn’t feel as immediately obvious (at least to me) as the parallels drawn between he and Carolyn#(who is a collins formed in his own image — physically as well as emotionally; mentally)#Vicki though: outwardly quite different. where roger is callous‚ selfish‚ tempestuous‚ hedonistic;#Vicki is ingenuous‚ compassionate‚ stoic‚ temperate#but they find in each other more of themselves than they’d like to. roger who sees in her not only the imagined weakness of her alliance#with Burke‚ but the weakness (so perceived) of authentic affection‚ of curiosity‚ loneliness‚ even love for his own family. For his son.#the interest in collinwood's ghosts that he would like so well to ignore.#and Vicki who finds herself always with ''a potentiality for corruption.''#she’d like to believe she remains here selflessly — out of love for David and wanting to help him — but it is her own self interest that#keeps her here: wanting to know her past‚ wanting to know these people‚ to be involved with them (no matter how fervently she denies it)#she who typically is calm as still water in suffering their wrongs but can lose her temper as well as roger if pressed.#who begins as almost pure truth but begins to lie — first via omission‚ then conscious untruths.#who — not without good reason — falls into paranoid suspicion of him just as he had her.#Vicki who is an auditory and visual echo — repeating dialogue; repeating clothing; repeating his haunts of the cliffs and the beach.#anyways. I just think they’re neat :) I love a gothic almost-couple (tags via @widowshill)

“He is not to them what he is to me,” I thought: “he is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine;—I am sure he is—I feel akin to him—I understand the language of his countenance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him.” Jane Eyre, XVII.

18 / 139 / 91 / 78 / 2 / 12 / 75 / 80 / 75

[overwhore-s]

Hi 🥺 um. 👉🏼👈🏼 may I request Levi x reader? Where something went wrong (a mission, deaths whatever) and reader is just ... numb. Levi really cares for her (secretly loves her) and he has to bathe her, she kind of breaks down in the tub. He can’t leave her like that for the night so he watches over her too? Is that okay? Or too much? It’s okay if it is. I’m just a sucker for hurt/comfort.

With you by my side (I just want to survive)

Keep reading for 1970 words of angst, hurt/comfort and general sadness. I don’t tend to write stuff like this often, so I might be sorta out of practice, but I do love Levi, so writing this was a blast. Huge thank you goes out to sweet Anon for inspiring this!

song reference: dreamlife by sleeping at last

Warm hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady. Blood leaking from the cut on your forehead shrouds your vision and you feel light, almost like a feather. The world around you takes a shade of crimson, the earth, the trees, the sky, all red. Your eyes are opened but you stay unresponsive, and he stops every few seconds just to check on your pulse, his finger smearing the blood, yours, his, someone else’s, all over you neck.  

It’s reckless, he knows, to show his back while the battle rages on. Titans and soldiers clashing, a storm of steel and too many teeth. And yet, he has to get to his horse. The fight is lost; but he can’t lose you as well.

Finally, Erwin signals the retreat.  

A bittersweet feeling overtakes him. He hates running, hates the thought of the deaths of his comrades being for naught. Part of him hates Erwin for being so reckless with your lives, his own life, but most of all, yours. You, who never hesitates. Never complains.

Finally, he catches sight of his horse. It whinnies and kicks at the grass, distressed. Levi whistles and it comes galloping towards him, as loyal as ever.

Suddenly, your knees buckle underneath you, the strength all but sapped from your body. Levi catches you, supports your weight with his own. You are so strong, always, a soldier in your own right. It hurts him to see you like this, shell-shocked, beaten, damn near breaks his heart.

Your eyes close, slowly, almost like you’re falling asleep.

Concerned, he whispers your name. No answer. He repeats it, alarmed. Your grip on his shoulder tightens momentarily, weak but reassurance enough for him to march on, half-dragging you behind him. He’s thankful for his strength as he hoists you atop the horse. He sits with his chest to your back, making sure you don’t fall off by wrapping an arm around your waist.

He barely concentrates on riding the horse, more concerned about your slowing pulse. Will you reach Wall Rose soon enough? It’s almost nightfall. Titans can’t move in the dark; they should give up their pursuit soon.

His theory proves to be right. About an hour later, the rumbling steps of titans fade into the distance. Still, Erwin shows no sign of slowing. Good.  Levi will have a word with him later, but for now, his only concern is getting you to safety.  

“We’re almost there,” he says, to the wind, himself, you, passed out from exhaustion in the saddle in front of him. He chases your heartbeat across your skin, only content when it pounds steadily against his fingertips. Wall Rose is finally visible and he feels so relieved he could cry. “Hold on. Hold on.”

 ***

 You’re awake, but you dream. Everything and everyone seems to be bathed in a golden light. Hange, as they clean and bandage your many wounds while arguing about something with Erwin, who stands by the door, looking regal and authoritative as always. Knowing them, it’s about capturing more titans for experiments. If your face didn’t feel like it was made from stone, you’d crack a smile. Typical Hange.

There’s a fourth someone in the room. He’s seated in the chair next to your bed, face hidden by his hands. They are nice hands, you suppose, slender but strong-looking at the same time. You’ve seen them deal punches, wield weapons, pet horses and hold dainty teacups. Rough on the outside, gentle on the inside. You want to reach out and brush your knuckles against his, but your arm won’t move. Like it’s made of lead, your body feels oh so heavy, and the softness of the bed, suffocating.

Your eyes dart from Levi – Levi, your captain, your friend, your guardian angel – to the large wound on your thigh, currently being stitched by Hange. You frown. That wound. Like someone’s jaws left an imprint on your flesh. When did that happen? Your memory is muddied, unclear, confused.

There should be pain. Where is the pain? You briefly wonder, before losing consciousness again.

***

The second time you wake up, it’s into a nightmare. The physical pain you can deal with. But once the memories start resurfacing, you start to shake and shake. You try to scream, but nothing comes out. You sit up in the bed, hug your knees to your chest, protecting yourself from the outside world.

It’s no use. The world that’s out to get you right now hides within your mind, guilt and despair and grief.

Grief. Your comrades – what did they look like before…?! In your current state, you can only picture them on the ground, no, not them, just their bodies, broken and lifeless. The way they screamed, Walls, their last words repeat in your head until they sound almost like accusations, and finally a first tear rolls down your cheek, followed by many, many others. You tremble and sob, wanting to tear at your stitches until you bleed out. How do you get to survive, when everyone under your command has died? Your squad, always so reliable, so supportive in and out of battle, has been massacred and you did nothing to help them.

You’re a failure of a leader, failure of a soldier, failure even as a human being. Gradually, your sobs come to a halt, sadness replaced by numbness. Everything seems pointless now, with them dead.

During the day, you’re visited by many people, but none of them succeed in cheering you up. You can see your civilian friends pitying you, and the scouts look too haunted by their own demons to be able to help you. It just makes you sink further into hopelessness.

You drink only a little, and eat nothing at all, even as Hange forces a spoon full of porridge past your lips. They sigh in defeat after half an hour of fighting, muttering something about you being more stubborn than even Levi. They order someone to draw you a bath, and, with a last sympathetic look in your direction, walk out of the room.

***

“The water must be getting cold.”

You haven’t left your bed. Levi’s leaning against the door, brow furrowed in concern. He’s heard from Hange; you don’t eat, don’t communicate, never move out of this room. You’ve managed to escape relatively unscathed, thanks to his quick reflexes on the battlefield, but you’ve suffered some mental scars as well and those are the ones he’s really worried about.

“C’mon. You have to bathe. You stink of titan guts.”

Normally, you would have laughed. But this time, he notices no change in your expression, not even a small smile as reward for his best efforts.

He approaches you like he would a wounded animal, light on his feet. “Come on,” he repeats, in a gentler tone. “I’ll help you.”

At last, you nod, never one to disobey a direct order. You attempt to rise from the bed, only to tumble right into his arms. “Easy,” he says, voice thick with something he can’t quite name. “I got you.”

You nod again, face buried in his shoulder.

He helps you undress, his movements mechanical, his gaze respectfully averted. Your chemise pools around your ankles, followed by your underwear. He’s seen you naked before – there is no shame among soldiers – but with the two of you, it feels different, somehow more intimate. He turns around and waits for you to get into the bath.

“Levi.” A simple rasp of his name, signaling him you’re ready.

With your knees drawn up to your chest, you peer at him from under dark lashes. He swallows on an empty throat, grabbing the washcloth and soap someone left on the table and coming closer to you.

You are both silent as Levi washes your hair. He works efficiently but gently at the same time, massaging the soap into your scalp before rinsing it off by pouring a cup of water over it. He’s considerate with the washcloth too, rubbing your skin firmly enough to get rid of caked blood and dirt, but not too rough to irritate your many scratches and bruises.

Seeing your wounds makes something inside him break. Perhaps it’s the knowledge he did nothing to stop this from happening – you getting hurt, your squad getting wiped out, the mission failing. His hands start to shake, and he needs to take a moment bracing against the tub to calm himself.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you speak suddenly, voice weak but insistent. “And it’s not your fault.”

He scoffs in disbelief. You’re just unbelievable. Barely functioning, and still trying to take care of everyone around her. Empathetic to a fault. Sometimes he wonders if that’s part of the reason why he loves you. “Who else’s?”

Your shoulders begin to tremble as you sob out a single word. “Mine.”

You blaming yourself is a natural reaction, of course. He felt the same way when he lost his own squad during that botched operation in the forest. Even more so years ago with Furlan and Isabel.

Being the sole survivor is a different kind of pain.

“Bullshit,” he grits his teeth, jaw aching. “You want to hate someone? Hate the titans for eating them. Hate Erwin for giving the order. Hate me if you must. But you don’t get to do this to yourself. I won’t let you.”

You turn to face him, fast enough to make the water, now a depressing shade of reddish brown, spill from the bathtub. “I don’t know if I can survive this, Levi,” you admit, the sight of your tear-stained face enough to make him want to cry. “They visited me while I slept. They called out to me.”

He wishes he could wax poetic like Erwin, make out their deaths to be heroic instead of brutal, needless and terrifying. But he’s never been good with words, and he’s even worse with expressing feelings, so all that he can manage is a simple but fitting: “They were saying goodbye.”

Your eyes brim with tears again and he’s afraid he’s upset you, until you smile. It’s a brief, barely-there smile, but it still counts. “I like it, but no. I think they were saying see you later.”

He can’t and doesn’t want to argue with that. “We’ll all meet together again. On the other side.”

You nod and close your eyes, still smiling, and he thinks you look serene for a moment. Until you start shivering, and he remembers how much time has passed and that the water must be freezing already.

“Here you are.” He hands you a towel, giving you time to dry off before returning with a fresh set of clothing. Now dressed, you retreat into bed, pulling the covers over your form.

Levi doesn’t move.

“I’m not leaving,” he answers, before the question can even leave your mouth. You’ve known each other, fought beside each other for such a long time, sometimes he feels as if though he could read your mind.  

“Good. I don’t want you to,” you say, almost pleadingly.

Giving a sigh of relief, he makes his way to the chair where he spent the last night as well, only for you to pat the empty space next to you.

On the bed.

Oh.

“Absolutely not,” he starts to say, but you cut him off.

“You get so little sleep as it is. It’s the least I can do to thank you…for everything. Besides…” You trail off, expression turning solemn once again. You might be doing slightly better than before, but you’re still haunted. Only time can heal you, it would be foolish to think he has any power over what you might be feeling.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

But he can make sure no monsters will get you tonight.

[mc-critical]

your analysis of selim? i think he's hated way more than he deserves. hating him for valid reasons is fine but telling that he's gonna be such a bad sultan is really stupid [and especially because only now do they bring out history & say selim was bad which is historically inaccurate as well]. out of all of suleyman's sons, it was only mustafa who was loved by all & talented [show only cuz apparently mehmet was also extremely talented & selim wasn't a bad sultan] enough for the throne. bayezid was extremely hotheaded and you can't tell me that a prince who can't control his emotions, especially in front of state officials, will be a good sultan. everyone tells selim was extremely selfish & the instigator of all their fights, when they were younger & older. siblings are always like that?? mustafa obviously wasn't like that because he was way older than mehmet, mihrimah, selim, bayezid & cihangir to get into stupid fights w/ them. mehmet & mihrimah had frequent & annoying arguments because they were closer in age. selim & bayezid had frequent fights because they were closer in age. this is a thing with many siblings; the elder provoking the younger & the younger disrespecting the elder. why do people point out their sibling fights as evidence for selim's personality? i feel sorry for bayezid as a kid but i feel less remorse for him as he's older. i don't say he deserves execution, especially at the hands of his own father, but he did rebel against his father's order & then proceeded to flee to another empire; like, the punishment for that is execution, what did he expect after rebelling? i feel extremely sorry for all his sons though, they didn't deserve this fate when they were just victims of their father's rebellion. also, unpopular opinion but bayezid is lowkey overrated pls don't cancel me i love him but he's annoying at times like all characters & no one really acknowledges it back to selim, he was honestly very underrated. he was really slandered in the series and he didn't have any real support w/ him until nurbanu & sokollu. although hurrem did vouch for him to go to manisa, it was literally only because he was 'peaceful' [we can read that as untalented as well] and no harm would reach him because he wasn't a threat [i actually really liked this plan of hurrem's, tough & clever; only if she was actually supported in this]. even mihrimah, till the end, is quite unfair to him. he had a problem w/ alcohol & people telling him to just stop? like, it doesn't work that way? people have to suffer so much in order to stop their addictions & they're actually restricted from their addictions; selim was a prince, no one around him could restrict him [his parents could but they weren't w/ him in his provinces]. he did become politically active w/ nurbanu's growing ambitions & he took smarter, more cunning & dirtier measures than bayezid to win the throne. the battle for the throne was bloody; resorting to honour like mustafa did was obviously not the best decision & people insult selim for being cunning enough [or being influenced by cunning people] to win the throne. let's also keep in mind that selim didn't even have much of an interest for the throne until manisa & nurbanu. i also like his relationship w/ nurbanu. it paralleled suleyman & hurrem's w/ the concubine arcs but selim did end up being monogamous to her in the show. their chemistry was fantastic [props to engin & merve for their acting] and although i don't really enjoy the 'a woman makes a man strong & influences him in everything; good or evil' kind of take, i did enjoy their relationship [he also sometimes looked at her like she was this ethereal type miracle, appropriately so w/ her courage]. i like what the show did w/ bayezid's execution a lot, the whole scene was such a wonderful cinematic experience; the music, bayezid's agonizing screams, his sons falling one by one, selim crying because he didn't want it to end up this way, bayezid falling & his screams ceasing, selim's heartbroken face because he was always a soft person & he always loved bayezid;

ahh, what a scene, so much love for it. anyway, that's just my opinion; i think he's hated way more than he deserves, especially in comparison to other characters & he's actually one of my most favourite characters from s4 [but i honestly love all characters w/ their good & bad, mc has many complex characters & i live for it]. what do you think about selim? sorry if you got annoyed at the long ask, i can get really heated when talking about selim [especially in reference to his historical figure], hope you don't mind if❤ [if it is annoying i'll stop it]

(okay, I'll talk strictly about the show, since I don't feel like delving deep into historical waters. There is still stuff we don't know for sure and I do want to keep the line between show and history in my head, except for the similar themes.)

While he isn't particularly my favorite character, I appreciate MC Selim and he is a very interesting subject when it comes to analyzing him. I'm actually amazed with what the show did with him in the span of a season (and something, counting some S02B and S03B moments) - he was one of the most fleshed out characters in S04 and we could get a clear picture as to why he does what he does.

Some people consider his debut to be an insult, for it immediately showed some of his weaknesses, putting him in a bad light right out of the gate. But all I can see in this debut is a showcase of his predicament of the prince no one sees as a capable heir of the throne. It’s as if he sleeps with women and drinks as a coping mechanism he’s delved into, with Mihrimah having to do effort to snap him out of it. The Selim we see in the beginning of S04 is a hopeless person. He doesn’t have dreams and ambitions, it’s as if he’s a already a lost cause and he has no one to truly support him. Even Hürrem wanted to send him to Manisa not because she deemed him as worthy, but to use him as a shield in order to deceive her enemies and protect the actual favorite. That may seem like a clever plan, but in actuality, it failed spectacularly - not only did her enemies not get confused for a second and didn’t attack Selim at all, but she forgot to tell Bayezid why she did it and made Selim confused to the point of demotivation, because none of his brothers were truly happy with this decision and they were all opposing it, directly and indirectly. And while he may not show it that much, because of his more composed and pragmatic nature, Selim is sensitive to the opinions of his brothers and the people around him and their prevailing disapproval may be a part of why he became so different than the rest. It’s like no one wanted to get to know him.

Nurbanu’s entrance in Selim’s life is very cathartic in this aspect, for she actually worked with him and gave him the needed motivation and ambition to fight, awaking sides of him that were dormant for a long time. And yes, I do think that Selim’s pragmatism is something he always had, if the whole arrow incident in S03B where he sabotaged Bayezid’s arrow, which caused him to lose is any indication. 

{I don’t think that the quarrels Selim and Bayezid had when they were little are so much indicators of Selim’s personality as they are foreshadowing of their future conflict. Right, these quarrels are normal for siblings and Mehmet and Mihrimah also fought like that (heck, even little Mehmet and Mustafa had a fight once in S01 and that fight was used as the conflict of the remainder of that one episode), but they weren’t as frequent as the ones of Selim and Bayezid. I don’t know, it’s just the atmosphere of these scenes was different and hinted at something more. It could be because we know the historical events and we could see every tiniest bit of early sibling rivalry between them as build-up, but still, I always felt there just was something else. Like the whole arrow incident I mentioned, a presumably harmless little situation gains a whole other meaning later on. It sets up neatly Süleiman’s opinions of both of them (his reaction to apparent disobedience and the making of a scene by someone he doesn’t expect to, by which I mean Bayezid), Hürrem’s retroactive ignorance of a possible bigger enmity and the roots of the whole conflict. It’s not Selim deciding to sabotage Bayezid’s performance as a last resort, maybe knowing that he surely won’t do better than his brother (doing a pretty typical ,,prank’’ for a little, naughty kid) that is exemplary of his cunning later, it’s his validation and him getting away with it that eventually becomes it, just like how he ends up getting away with stuff in the next season. Selim definetly isn’t the instigator of all the fights, especially because Bayezid, thanks to his more impulsive nature, is much more likely to start a fight in the first place and contrasts to Selim’s overall better composure. Provokations among them were mutual and both were consistently throwing darts at each other, one after another. Their conflict is a very nuanced issue: while people try to play right and wrong, both sides were at fault one way or another. The conflict between them is mostly caused by insensitivity, favoritism and ignorance and the desperation of both to try to prove themselves to their parents and win their support, at the end of the day. Why did they always calm down in front of their mother? Not only because of their joint respect for her, but also because of these same attempts to earn her support. Even Bayezid, who obviously had to be sure of her support, wasn’t completely certain of it after Hurrem turned it on Selim for a while. Selim, on the other hand, obviously never felt her support, it’s like something was missing right from the start. Combine that with their completely opposing personalities and the whole system encouraging competition for the throne and there you have the inevitable ultimate conclusion. That’s why I also love the set-up, the pay-off and the aftermath of Bayezid’s execution. It may be historically inaccurate that Selim, not Süleiman, executed Bayezid, but when you think about it, it was the most logical thing that could’ve happened, ending their conflict with a heart-wrenching bow. I love the scene of the execution itself, too - the action, the dialogue, the direction, the character moments, the themes... I don’t know whether Selim loved Bayezid by that point, per say, after all they went through, but it was clear that he knew that he had to do it, that it couldn’t have ended any other way, but he was broken over it. He was aware that it was, ultimately, a sin, which would continue haunting him. He couldn’t catch a break afterwards, he couldn’t stop. All was solved, but at what cost?}

I love his dynamic with Nurbanu - they balanced each other off so well, their chemistry was amazing, such a power couple. Nurbanu’s biggest contribution is hiding some of his flaws and mobilizing him to fight. Her cold pragmatism ,,grounds’’ Selim’s softer side, she’s there to always remind him of the stakes of the game and to shut off the last ounces of his vulnerabilities after Hurrem died. He sure is influenced by her, but that doesn’t mean that he blindly takes her word for everything - he is always ready to call her out when necessary and assure her that there are lines she shouldn’t cross. Despite of her pleas, he kept having affairs with other women (that is honestly a trend with all the men of the show, but still..), he got mad at her after what happened to Huricihan and most notably, after he found out that she possibly stole his mother’s ring. A part of why their dynamic works so well is precisely this strenght of character and their awesome compatibility. 

I have heard affirmations that Selim doesn’t care about Mustafa, which... simply isn’t true? While they have the least scenes together and Selim is the one that considers him most as a rival and his most dangerous competitor for the throne (which would explain his startled reaction after Musti saved him from the janissary), it’s precisely Mustafa’s death that is the turning point of his character arc. He was upping his game slowly but surely and before then, but he didn’t do much in terms of attacks. Neither Selim, nor Nurbanu once considered attacking Mustafa, the supposed biggest danger to them, which I find respectable and admirable. The bomb with the death drops and then every hope about a fair game is abandoned. Selim gets the realization that being honorable won’t work. The only way to win is bend the system and play dirty. There’s no time for sitting around or looking nice. And even though Nurbanu realized this, too, as well as Selim, Nurbanu was always more inclined to act this way than him and now the righteousness of her methods were only getting confirmed. It was Selim that had to reach this end. Discovering that he is no longer allowed to show any kind of weakness. Every chance that appears on the horizon, he’ll take it. That brings him to his first true dirty plan - the trap he set through the fake Mustafa rebellion.

Speaking of which, the worst deed of Selim’s for me is connected to that rebellion. I know I may be very biased in this regard, since it affects my personal favorite character and isn’t as recalled as others, but I hated when, in Selim and Sokollu’s attempts to wash their hands from the pulled off stunt, Sokollu, his man, told SS that Mahidevran was giving money to the rebellion. Okay, it’s not said outright whether is this directly tied to Selim or it was something Sokollu himself came up with out of desperation or something (though it was hinted that both thought something through in a scene where both were saying that they should come clean out of this all somehow) and it’s not outrightly confirmed whether Mahidevran gave the money or not (I highly doubt she did it; not only because it would destroy her whole S04 arc and she would become, well... MCK Gulbahar, but also because after the messenger told her of her alleged blame in E129, her eyes widened in surprise.), but all it does is be the only explicit case where Selim indeed looks bad, for his proposal to return Mahidevran in the castle doesn’t seem to stem from genuine guilt and remorse, but rather a late and empty attempt to placate his own conscience. Oh, not to mention (for the upteenth time, sorry in advance) how the scene back in E58 where Hurrem tells Mahidevran that her kids will be there taking care for her when she’s alone, which was treated as some big foreshadowing in the show, as well, by both the voice of the S02B narrative and the fandom alike, loses its value even more with that framing, because Selim and Sokollu themselves brought her to this state in the first place!!! Despite it making sense anyway, it’s still such a disservice to Selim as a person both inside and outside of the writing. 

One aspect of Selim’s pragmatism I find most interesting is his ability to turn his enemies into allies, knowing exactly how to amass them and get them on his side, be it through giving them more money and promising them the world. These alliances are all opportunistic in nature and may not be as loyal as those of Mustafa’s or of Mustafa’s people (like Atmaca) with Bayezid, but I think Selim knows this and wants to keep them steady enough for the common goal. As for what kind of a padisah he’ll be.... I believe that state matters would be the least of his concerns, since he was shown to not care so much about them, compared to his other brothers (but then again, the show itself doesn’t put the political capability of the princes at center stage - their personal virtues are always the determining factor of what makes a good padisah and what doesn’t, more of a psychological outlook, if you will.) and he perhaps won’t plan as many campaigns or conquer as many territories, maybe he won’t be that successful at all, but his cunning would bring him advantage in front of his people, he will be at least a bit careful of who he’s choosing and won’t simply lose it in front of everyone, compared to Bayezid’s impulsive temper.

[I love Bayezid as a character, but the shadier aspects of his personality sure tend to be overlooked. While his anger is directed mainly at Selim and Suleiman, it often reaches such extremes to the point it becomes destructive and affects everyone. He doesn’t deserve his execution at all and most of his actions stem from a very sympathetic place, given how SS never truly gave him a chance and he went on the inevitable path, because he, just like Selim, realized that honor won’t work in this war, but took the opposite approach from Mustafa, direct rebellion. And predictably, both approaches didn’t work since Bayezid, too, was taken advantage of. While he didn’t get justice, the lead-up to his execution is a character arc of his and there are many reasons and events linking it all together and showing us why it took place the way it did.]

Selim’s dynamic with Suleiman is proof of how you can be presumably favored, but you have to work to get there. The reasons Suleiman favored him are very telling and sad and we see that he also doesn’t favor him because of any and all capabilities he may have, but because of his self-imposed distorted view of loyalty Selim has to do a lot to preserve, actually. He constantly has to make it so it looks like he’s loyal and obedient and doesn’t work behind his back. He doesn’t get the fullest appreciation from his father, as well, and I certainly feel it impacts him, in a way.

I agree that Mihrimah could be unfair to Selim. They weren’t that close and she had this open preference to Bayezid. Most annoyingly is when, in their confrontation in E139, which highlights even more their parallel sins, Mihrimah doesn’t seem to face that sin of hers when Selim calls her out on it. She has a reason to deeply resent him after what he did to Bayezid, but was offended when he reminded her of the crime she also committed. More solidarity on that front would be a bit better, at least a hint of like recognizing like even for a moment. (but maybe then her scene with Mahidevran later wouldn’t be as impactful? Huh.)

And lastly, about his drinking - Nurbanu tried to restrict him, but it’s true that such habits aren’t easy to give up on, especially knowing how his drinking is a coping mechanism as much as it is something he enjoys. He knows he shouldn’t do it, he’s told he shouldn’t do it, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t drink when he’s planning or scheming, but he keeps on doing it more and more with every problematic action of his. It’s an attempt to supress his otherwise strong conscience to the max, seeing how after his brother’s execution he apparently always took a drink when he was alone at night, fighting an inner conflict with himself. I don’t think there was a way he could stop doing it permanently in the show. It was a part of who he was, unfortunately or not. 

[dramaqueeenamby]

Waves: Wild Hearts

A/N: This is sorta a follow up to Fighter that I’ve had on my computer for months. I have included the ending of that oneshot at the beginning of this one to help refresh memories, but if you want to read Fighter, you can do so here. Yes, there will be a part 2 to this one. 

Warnings: Angst

Words: 2K

-GIF from Google-

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Previously on Waves

“Now back to the news that broke headlines just last night. Academy Award-Winning Actress Summer Hemsworth was allegedly attacked in her Georgia hotel room last night. Hemsworth suffered two gunshot wounds and reportedly collapsed in the lobby as horrified onlookers called 911 and attempted to stop the bleeding.”

“She was rushed to the local hospital where doctors performed emergency surgery, and as of now, we are hearing reports that she is in stable condition.”

“While details are still unclear, what we do know is that the attacker is now deceased, reportedly at the hands of Summer, who fought him off. In addition, the perpetrator has been identified as Myles Hampton, the same man who stalked and attacked Mrs. Hemsworth almost six years prior.”

“Hampton was sentenced and serving a 15-year sentence which has the world wondering. How did he get out? How was he able to re-traumatize his victim? How--”

“Mommy.”

His son’s voice ripped Christopher from his phone where he was watching the news for reasons even he couldn’t explain. Well, rather, didn’t want to explain.

Elysha glared at her brother, bringing her index finger to her mouth. “Shh. Papa said we gotta be quiet.”

Summer moaned, finally waking up from another nap. They had her on heavy painkillers that made her sleep, much to the chagrin of all four individuals occupying the private hospital room. For the twins, sleep meant she couldn’t talk to them. They needed to hear her voice to know that she was going to be okay.

For Christopher, well, even awake, he still worried.

And for Summer, she just hated to be unconscious as she recognized the concern that it caused her family.

“Did he now?” She whispered, blinking a couple times as she managed to lift her hand, bringing it to Emmett’s cheek. “Well, mama says you don’t have to.”

Both kids responded with a smile, quickly grabbing the sheets on either side of the bed, where they’d remained the entire time.

They wouldn’t leave her side.

“Look, mama,” Elysha chimed as they lifted the papers. “We drew you pictures. Mines is bestest.”

“Nu uh!”

“Uh huh!”

She smiled, ignoring the pain she was still experiencing. It mattered not though. She’d take the pain of survival over the finality of death any day.

“They’re both the bestest,” Summer shared, making both of them grin for a few seconds when she noticed Elysha drop her head. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Elysha took a few seconds, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’re glad you’re okay, mommy.”

“Yeah,” Emmett agreed. “Why’d that mean man try to hurt you, mama?”

Summer closed her eyes. Her pain was no longer a concern. Her priority was the hurt she saw and heard in her children, her beautiful babies prematurely forced to encounter the evils of this world.

“I-”

“Well, it’s about time you woke up, lil’ missy.” Helen spoke with a warm smile as she walked into the room.

Seeing their grandmother raised their spirits just enough to eat away some of Summer’s guilt. Helen walked over and gently felt her daughter’s head. “How you doing, baby?”

Summer, conscious of the watchful set of blue eyes on her, smartly replied. “I’m good, mama.”

Helen nodded. “I see you’re getting some of your color back. Good. You was getting a lil’ pale on me, lil girl.”

Elysha gasped. “Can I have some of mommy’s color, grandma!”

“Me too, grandma!”

The twin’s excitement and naivety made Summer smile. Their uplifted spirits nursed her soul.

“I don’t know about color, but how about you two come with grandma to the cafeteria, and we’ll see what kind of ice cream they have.”

The promise of their favorite dessert quickly dimmed when they realize it meant leaving their mom.

“But-”

“Ya’ll go. Mama has to talk to papa,” Summer referenced Christopher who’d sat silent while allowing the children time to bond with their mother. “Please?”

Emmett groaned but relented. “I’ll bring you ice cream back, mama.” He looked back at Christopher. “You too, papa!”

“I’ll bring you some too, papa!”

Careful kisses on either side of her cheeks preceded the kids finally walking out hand in hand with Helen.

The sound of tiny footsteps repeatedly diminished until they could be heard no more, replaced by heavy-footed strides and the creaking of a chair. Summer closed her eyes at his warm touch, his hand clasped over hers, the other going to her forehead.

He laid his head against her shoulder, Summer angling her own so that she could kiss the top of his head.

She gently tightened her grip on his head. “I’m fine, Christopher.”

“Don’t.” She licked her lips, concern shifting from her kids to her husband. “Don’t give me that shit, Summer. You are not fine.”

“I’m alive, Chris,” she croaked, wanting desperately to stress how grateful she was. “He shot me. Twice. And I’m alive.”

“This never should have fucking happened. If they’d been watching him, he would have never-”

“Hey,” she forced some bass into her voice. “We can’t do that. It happened, and it-it sucks, but-”

“How can you be so calm about this?” He forced out bitterly, finally lifting his head to reveal glazed eyes that burned with fear and rage. “After everything he did, what he tried-”

She attempted the comedic route, something that typically worked for them. “Well, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve almost died.” The dark joke fell through, possibly increasing his irritation. She swallowed. “I-I think-I still don’t know what to think, Chris. I-It’s a lot to process, but I can’t do that right now. Emmett and Elysha are watching us, watching me, and every time I look at them, look at you, I’m reminded of everything I stood to lose, and I’m just-I’m thankful. And the last thing that I want is to further worry the twins…or you.”

He lifted their conjoined hands and gently kissed her fingertips. Summer recognized the gesture as acknowledgment.

“I love you,” she breathed as he moved his mouth to kiss her inner forearm. “So much.”

He brought his hand to her cheek, their eyes meeting with a burning and moving meeting that conferred the ardent love between them but was now tinged with a new emotion.

Fear

Wild Hearts

“Just a few more seconds. Come on, Summer.”

Face scrunched up in discomfort, the actress swallowed her pain and scraped for every bit of resilience that she had left, successfully completing the set before relaxing as soon as her therapist gave her the okay.

Dropping onto the floor, Summer crossed her wrists and placed them over her head. Deep, relaxing breaths abated her nerves and aching muscles as Rene attempted to offer words of encouragement and praise that Summer was only halfheartedly listening to.

It wasn’t that Rene was bad at her job. No, far from it. She was a wonderful physical therapist who pushed Summer in ways that were both challenging while also welcoming. It was that Summer still hadn’t come to accept that she was back at square one. She felt like she was preparing to become Storm all over again. Relearning suddenly replaced years of maintenance. Her schedule had been disrupted, and it created cognitive dissonance.

Hand unconsciously falling onto her core, her fingers slid over the dark scar that still bled with remnants of trauma and regrets. One of two, it was the most prominent and noticeable. Folks rarely paid attention to feet, but the stomach, it was the area that generally garnered a decent amount attention based solely on the level of flatness.

Rene noticed the way Summer’s fingers stroked her slick skin and cleared her throat. “Why don’t we call it a day?”

“The day has been called, ma’am.”

The ginger grinned crookedly and complimented her client. “You did great today.”

Summer snorted, groaning quietly as she sat up and braced her palms against the mat. “Now you’re just kissing my ass.”

“While you do have quite the ass,” Summer rolled her eyes. “I’m not quite sure how my wife and your husband would feel about that.”

Summer rolled her eyes as Rene reached a hand to help her stand up. “Noted.” Rolling her shoulders, Summer walked over to grab her pink Blender Bottle, downing down the water mixed with lemons and limes. The typically acrid mixture was welcoming because of the addition of ice cubes that quenched her parched throat, assisting in the cooling down of her warm body.

“I think we could even maybe move down to twice a week instead of three.”

Swallowing a couple more ounces, Summer lowered her cup and wiped at her mouth. “Seriously?”

Rene nodded as she crossed her arms. “I meant it. You’re doing great.” A beat. “Physically.”

And just like that, Summer rolled her eyes and turned her body to start packing up her items. “Here we go again.”

Rene already knew that she was going to be met with apprehension, but that didn’t dissuade her. “I can only help you rehabilitate your body, Summer. But your mind—”

“—is fine.”

Rene stilled, her green eyes softening. “You can say that until you’re blue in the face, but it makes no difference if you don’t really believe it, and I don’t think you do.”

Summer stilled, her back toward the tall woman. A part of her, a very small part of her, wanted to switch things up. She wanted to entertain the conversation, just to see how it would play out, but another part of her knew exactly how it would play out, so she did as she’d done a lot lately.

“So, same time next week?” She spun around, swinging her bag over her shoulder. Before the other woman could offer a response, Summer shot her a wink and walked past her. “Thank, Rene.”

As if on cue, Phillip’s large frame appeared in the doorway, and Summer’s grin fell.

Arms clasped in front of him, he nodded in acknowledgment. “Ready, Mrs. Hemsworth?”

An elongated sigh escaped as she approached him and managed to reignite her previous smile. “I told you, Summer is fine, but yeah, I’m ready.”

A grunted response that she couldn’t really make out proceeded him opening the door for her only to quickly move back in front of her so that he was blocking her view. For a man his size, he was impressively quick on his feet.

A few more doors, elevator ride down, and Summer was met with the blistering Australian heat as a firm hand moved to her backside and escorted her out the building. Out the corner of her eye, she spotted the photographers who snapped away, a few inching close to the star but not enough where they were in arms reach of Phillip.

They weren’t stupid.

Phillip had served as a bodyguard for some of the most important figures across the world, celebrities and royals included. His resume was impeccable, and he was damn good at his job, a job that, while she respected, Summer felt suffocated by at times.

The fact that she even had a full-time bodyguard was something that she still hadn’t swallowed. She’d always been vocal and open about the fact that she loathed the whole “barrier” between celebrities and “regular degular” people. Her occupation, in her option, shouldn’t place her on a pedestal.

Plus, she was far from hopeless, and so a bodyguard was something could never get with unless they were provided by the event she was attending.

But a certain husband of hers was absolutely adamant about hiring the 24/7 protection following the attack, and while Summer understood his reasoning, she still wasn’t in agreement.

Not that it mattered…

The drive was short as the outpatient treatment center was only about twenty minutes away from the Hemsworth residence. Once they reached the mansion, Summer relieved Phillip from his duties. She had no plans on going out again. Christopher was picking up the kids from school. She’d maybe take Doggy out for a walk on the beachfront, but that didn’t require the 6”3 giant’s presence.

Not even three seconds into the door, Christopher was in front of his wife, hands on her hips as he pecked her lips.

“Hey, honey.”

Summer faltered only for a second before chewing on her bottom lip. “Damn, waiting for someone?”

“Always.” He winked and smacked her ass, prompting her to try to push him away.

“I need to shower,” she protested with a small pout as he brushed her comment off and slyly lowered his mouth down to her ear.

“I’ll join you.”

Summer grinned, momentarily contemplating his offer. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

“We are married, aren’t we?”

“I mean….” She laughed at his scowl and managed to pull away, walking past him to make her way up the steps. “Can you make us—”

Summer stopped and turned around on the second step only to see that was directly in front of her, on the first step.

She lifted a brow. “Sir?”

“What?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m pretty sure that I said n—Christopher!” She squealed as he silenced her by picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. “Put me down!”

“I am going to put you down,” he responded while continuing their track up the stairs. “On my dick.”

“Christopher!”

————

Summer rolled over on her side and ran her hand over her face, eyes shut as she struggled to catch her breath. Holding onto the pillow, she pulled the blanket up to her neck, depriving her nude body of the chilly air that the AC caused to consume their room.

She smiled softly as her husband kissed her temple. Feeling the bed creak, he peaked and saw him moving out the way as he started to pull on his clothes. Leaning on her back, she grabbed her phone off the nightstand and saw that it was time for him to leave to pick up the twins.

How long were we?

“Phillip will be here in a few minutes—”

Summer frowned. “What?” She sat up, not caring that the sheet fell down, exposing her breast. “Baby, I told him he could go home for the day.”

Christopher stood up, pulling his pants on. “Why would you do that?”

She looked from side to side. “Because I don’t need him? I didn’t plan on going out today.”

“But you knew that I had to go pick up the kids, so you’d be alone.”

Summer closed her eyes. “Christopher….”

The chime of his phone interrupted her as he glanced at the screen to see that Phillip had arrived and entered the house using the key that Chris thought was a good idea to provide him with. “He’s here. I have to get going.”

Summer frowned and leaned back against the headboard. “Okay.”

Looking back over to see that she was still dissatisfied, he walked over and sat on the bed, reaching out to cup her cheek. “Why don’t you come with me?”

Her brows furrowed. “Seriously? Christopher, you’ve already called the man over here.”

“And?” Chris didn’t see a problem. “He’s staying the night—”

“Again?” Summer was no longer so disappointed. She was irritated. “That’s the third damn time this week.”

“Okay?”

Summer scoffed and moved away from him, crossing her arms. “You know, I would appreciate it if you would actually, maybe, communicate with me before you make these decisions.”

“What is there to talk about, Summer?” He watched her move to the other side of the bed as she kicked the blanket off and scurried around to gather her clothes. “You need pro—”

“No, Christopher, what I need is for you to stop treating me like a child!” A beat. “I can take care of myself!”

“Like you did with Myles?”

Summer clutched the shirt in her hand at the same moment Chris closed his eyes. “Fuck, Summer—“

“You can go to hell,” she whispered, yanking her shirt over her head and marching past him, snatching her arm away from him when he reached for her. “Don’t—“ she stopped, eyes closing as she fought the sob in the back of her throat. “—touch me.”

Christopher recognized that tone. It was rare, but when present, he recognized that nothing he could say or do could penetrate the impenetrable exterior that was Summer’s wall.

The slamming of the bathroom door indicated what he already knew. Walking over to the door and placing his ear against it, welcoming it to the quiet sobs of his wife confirmed it.

He’d fucked up.

-----

A/N: So....whose side ya’ll on?

[bubbleteaa]

the letters I never sent you; kageyama tobio x reader

m a s t e r l i s t 

I.                APRIL’S SKY IS AS BLUE AS YOUR EYES

On a bright and beautiful day, you feel blue. You feel your fingers numb because of the cold water on the vacuum flask you hold, your lips are curved on a straight line while you look for a lonely spot near the gym.

It's selfish to feel like that when everyone wants to be happy. It's almost a way of asking for help. Was it obvious for someone? You were new, well, everyone was new. You let those feelings burn in your chest, falling inside your core, whispering so softly that was aggressive at nights. At those careful sleepless nights. 

The bags around your e/c eyes were part of your daily basis suffering. White nights that whispered at your ears how lonely you were, some tears help them out, some claws digging in your head trying so hard to stop thinking.

After a sleepless night, what's better that you stay alone at your secret spot?

Today is the same story, in life, or the noisy hallways of Karasuno High.

You feel blue because of that. The same thing that yesterday, the same spot that last week, the same lonely feeling encroaching your skin without a reason. 

The only difference is that someone else is in your spot. You know him. He's in your class. His cold and intimidating gaze travel around you, from head to toe. You don't mind and you sit at his side. You can feel his deep blue eyes over you. 

You feel it.

He is blue, he doesn't feel good.

He can feel that you are blue, too.

"It's weird if you keep staring at someone when they are about to eat" you start opening your bento box. You hear how he makes a little sound, something so silent that is noisy.

He is flustered.

"Your name is L/N, right?" then he speaks, you don't even see him. You can hear that he's drinking something "We are in the same class"

Ah, yes. Same class, really close to each other sits. The only problem was that both of them had weird social skills. Kageyama didn't talk to anyone and Y/N didn't know how to approach someone.

That's why she was blue.

"I can tell, Kageyama-san" that's the first time you see him at the eyes "Where's your lunch?"

"I already drank milk"

"Uhm, so you don't eat anything and only drink milk" you huffed "I can share mine with you, I don't eat a lot, anyway"

He looks confused at the moment, after staring at her for seconds, large and quiet seconds, he answered with a simple "What do you have?"

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                                                                   Miyagi, Japan, April 8th

Dear Tobio,

There is no art in art if you don't know fire. It is the same thing that hurts when we do not say anything, but what we keep quiet. We don't see each other, we see the artist, the athlete, the liar.

 Does that make sense? We live based on lies because it is almost impossible to live with honesty in a world built on fallacies. We are poor idiots, after all. We complain about what happens to us, but we created good and evil, didn’t we?

 It is too early to be too late.

After a week in silence, today I heard how your voice sounded. 

 And I still don't understand why behind what your vocal cords articulated, I could feel a pain that made me want to cry. Do you also soak the pillow late at night? Doesn't it seem illogical to feel bad about anything or something that happened a long time ago? I lose control and only think about disconnecting from others and my life to stopping crying. 

I am writing to you because the silence on your side is intoxicatingly comfortable. If I said it out loud, the words would be blown away by the wind; maybe re-reading this later I can understand how I feel.

 I will never send you my letters, why would I? 

I don't know why I'm writing this to you.

Goodnight,

Y/N

╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝

                                                                 ♡　

 ╔═════════════════════════════════════════╗

                                                                 Miyagi, Japan. April 18th

Dear Tobio,

I've noticed two things about you since we first met: one of them is that you don't do your homework, and if you do most of the things you have written are wrong. The second is that you are very observant and it is difficult not to perceive your eyes above my figure when we are in class.

Stop staring and pay attention, please.

I think we are friends, at least that's how I feel. Before, I thought you did not belong to any club, and neither did you have friends. Now I know that you play volleyball and that if you don't buy a carton of milk for lunch, you buy yogurt.

The silences we spend together during lunch are still comfortable, sometimes you accept the food I offer you, sometimes not.

Taking away the fact that you are not as applied in class, I can say that you are in volleyball. I noticed that you love that shine in your eyes every time you approach the gym it is impossible not to observe.

It's very beautiful, you know, to have something that you're passionate about in that way.

For my part, I am still looking for a club that has nothing to do with mental overwork, I already have enough when I’m trying to explain what you do not understand minutes before starting classes.

It would be easier if you studied.

I have noticed that when it gets dark, April's sky is as blue as your eyes.

I think I like you.

I mean, your eyes.

I think.

Goodnight,

Y / N.

╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝

                                                              ♡　

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

                                                         Miyagi, Japan, April 20th

Dear Tobio,

Have you ever thought about what our life would be like outside of what we know? Sometimes when I see the rays of the sun sneak out the window in the middle of modern literature class, I can only think of the journey that our pupils go from the first day to our grave.

 We see so many things, so many people, so many gestures; we see fire, we see clouds, we see tears of the sky landing on umbrellas. We know combustion and freezing, chaos becoming order.

I'm digressing.

But don't you think about it? That beyond our existence there are millions of orbits, that our life rocks under the sun and the moon, trying to worship something before it disappears, like millions of souls who are afraid and hide.

After all, we will not be remembered by anyone; or at least me, you have clear goals, dreams. I always wonder what to strive for, what things are for, what their purpose is. I suppose it is part of my egocentrism, before I know it I fall into the typical human vainglory, ignoring that I can plunge into the abyss.

Again, I am rambling.

I like this class, on the other hand, you don't seem to understand it. I have already told you several times that you must read to understand, not everything is memorizing. Either way, I already told you that if you needed help, you could write to me. Yes, I also can't believe I gave you my number. 

It's just to text me if you need help! 

Although it would be nice if ... we talked more, get to know each other better.

What am I saying? 

Goodnight, 

Y / N.

╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝

                                                                ♡　

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

                                                        Miyagi, Japan, April 23rd 

Dear Tobio, 

Now, this is funny. You don't have a bad temper at all, just bad conversational skills. And also to express yourself without looking like you're going to kill someone.

Okay, we'll work on that too, Tobio. After all, we are partners, right?

Teammates.

As a friend without really being one. Well, I consider you as a friend.

Yes.

We are just partners.

Either way, I haven't decided which club to join yet. It's also not like I have many options, I just have to join one and ... suffer.

Being in a club is exhausting, how do you do it? You practice and practice without rest and you still see yourself as calm as every day.

Amazing.

Oh, by the way, stop staring. If you need to ask me something you just have to tell me, it scares me that when I turn to see you you are looking at me without blinking.

Your blue eyes scare me. It is as if they are trying to break down barriers that I dare not open.

Stop doing it.

But, lowkey I enjoy seeing your face all nervous when I tell you to stop doing it.

Why am I saying this nonsense?

Goodnight,

Y / N

╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝

                                                               ♡　

"It's the third time this week, Kageyama" you frowned looking at him disapprovingly "You have to start doing your homework" you shake your head and looked at him. His blue eyes looked at you, almost begging.

"I was at practice and get carried away"

"I know, practice" then you laugh, and he gets flustered. He doesn't like to ask you for the homework, but he knows that he'll fail if he doesn't "This is the last time I borrow you my notes and homework. It would be easier if we study together" you gave him your notebook and you felt his touch. Rough, warmth, trembling. You smiled at him.

"Thank you"

You look at him. He doesn't curl his lips on a smile but you know that he tries.

He tries it for you.

I don't feel anything for you. You are just my friend. I don't fell in love, I don't need those feelings. I don't like you.

Guilt spits on her mouth for a moment. A knot starts forming on her throat, why? She was having second thoughts again. She was thinking about him in that certain way. 

She tried so hard to not looked at him for the rest of the classes.

"I'm going home, Kageyama," you said, he nodded his head "Good luck on practice"

"Actually" his voice was smooth. So sweet, so intoxicating "We don't have practice today"

"Oh, then... see you tomorrow..."

"Uhm..." you can see a little blush on his cheeks. His pale skin looked  tenderhearted "I... was thinking in..."

He can't talk after that.

The knot grew more and more. 

"We can walk home together" you smiled so softly at him. He was enamored by your presence. So sweet, so unique, so his. His. Why he was thinking of it? You barely knew him.

"Then, we can get going" 

He watches you taking your things. Your movements are in slow motion in his mind. How you took your bag, how you brushed some strands of your beautiful hair away of your face, how your hands seemed so tiny against his shoulder when you said to him that you were ready to go.

He never felt this for anyone before.

The way that you walk, so carefully without being slow. The way his eyes looked so beautiful as April's sky. The way he looked peacefully comfortable with you.

"Maybe we can study together" 

"Uh..., yeah" the way his words sound. He doesn't like the idea. 

"Only if you are okay with that. I know that sometimes I can be bothering-"

"You don't bother me!" your eyes are wide open when you heard him raised his voice "I-I m-mean, we can stu-study together..."

His voice sounds so angelic, his facial expressions are so sweet, so beautiful.

You look at him, you investigate his face. His cheeks are red, again, his pupils are floating everywhere, looking at everything but you. But you do look at him. The form of his eyes, the color of his irises,  the shape of his jaw. His straight lips, his hair covering his forehead, the tiny dark eyelashes that protect his beautiful deep blue eyes.

You are handsome, Kageyama.

The words don't come out, but you smile at him.

"Okay" 

Both blinked confused when they realize that the route to go home is the same. Your heart begins to beat rapidly as they turn the same corner, saying nothing to each other.

"Uhm ... do you live around here?" he is the one who decides to break the silence.

"Yes ... you do too"

"Well, my house is a few streets above"

"Ah, mine is right here"

Tobio stopped and looked at you, his eyes studying your face.

Why did you feel so hot on your cheeks?

"I guess here we say goodbye"

"Uhm, yes. Text me when you get home" you smiled lightly and Kageyama's heart gave a resounding jump, his cheeks turned completely red and he looked away with shame.

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

                                                              ♡　

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

                                                       Miyagi, Japan, April 28th,

Dear Tobio,

I want to walk with you to go to school every day now.

Goodnight,

Y/N

P.D.: I think I know which club I’m going to join.

╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝

><

PART II

✩•̩̩͙*ೃ˚ ˡˡ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˚.*ೃ [t a g l i s t]: @softforshigi​ @trashys-things​ @clowninfortodoroki​ @lauraaflores09

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[divineluce]

An Impasse || Solomon & Luce

Timing: November 13th

Location: The Outskirts

Tagging: @shroomsbysolomon & @divineluce

Description: Solomon and Luce officially meet for the first time. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

For the third night in a row, Luce laced up her shoes and exited the Vural home. Her homecoming had been… rocky at best. A shitshow at worse. And, what with all of the bullshit she’d found out regarding Nadia, Remmy giving her shit for leaving, and the goddamn menagerie of animals in her room, sleeping was pretty much out of the question. Which left her with two options-- hit up Soul and risk running into frankly Frank again, or go for a run. It was a no-brainer. Jogging into the woods, she made her way through the familiar trails that wound their way behind Bea’s home. She’d run them so often that, even after spending a month out of town, she still remembered every curve and turn in the path. It was easy, it was simple, it was going through the motions. She could do that, right? And then, once she could do that, maybe things would get better. As she ran, Luce noticed a figure off the path, illuminated in the waning moonlight and she slowed to a stop. “You lost there?” She asked, squinting through the darkness.

Solomon had a bad habit of losing himself in whatever he was doing, hyper-focusing to the point that he’d forget the world around him until something demanded his attention. In this case, it was an unexpected voice, jarring him out of whatever reverie he’d fallen into and urging him to whip around, clasping his hands behind his back to hide their wooden appearance as he stammered and stalled. “Oh! No, I, uhh…” His struggle to find the right words seemed to lose importance as he took in the visage of the woman on the trail, and something inside of him got all twisted up. It took a few beats for him to be able to place the sudden rush of emotion, not knowing who she was or why he should suddenly feel… fear? But then it came to him, and all at once, that fear was intermingling with anger. “You,” he grumbled, standing up from his crouch and taking a step toward her. He’d seen what she had done in the forest… and the only reason she still stood was because he had also witnessed her pitiful attempt at making amends. It was enough to stay his hand, but the bitter tang of resentment never left his tongue. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, burning the woods like you did.” His typically soft voice was harsher now, still low in volume, but it carried a distinct edge. “I’m still trying to repair the landscape. What’s your problem?”

As the man stammered for a moment, Luce rested her hands on her hips, waiting for him to finish his sentence. It was a bit too dark for her to get a good look at him, but she could tell he wasn’t some lost hiker. For one, no one came hiking around here, not at this time of night. For another, if he wasn’t dressed like one. No backpack, no water bottles, nothing like that. But, then he rose and took a step towards her. Instinctively, Luce’s hands curled at her side, the flames that danced in her blood ready to be called at a moment’s notice. “What the fuck is your problem?” She shot back, startled. Burning the woods? For one thing, how did he know about that? For another, which time was he talking about? One of the many rainy nights when she’d hiked out into the middle of nowhere, to practice her flames? Or when she and Anita had run from the shitty moose creature and she’d lit the brush aflame to escape? Or was it the time she’d razed the ground around her and Adam in the wake of Bea’s death? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Luce lied smoothly.

“Ooohhh, yes you do,” Solomon snapped, his dark eyes narrowing. “I saw you… fleeing the scene, leaving the poor forest in such a state…” It made his heart ache as he recalled the pain he’d felt that night, the sorrow that rose from the ground as it mixed with ash and embers. He was so in tune with the familiar landscape, so very much a part of it, that any damage it suffered bled over to him. It’s why most things never escaped his knowledge, and why he’d had to bloody his hands over the centuries, stopping men from cutting deeper and spreading further. What he couldn’t mention was how his fear had held him back for the first time — seeing that the woman was controlling the fire and not merely setting it free had stopped him in his tracks. If he died, who knew what would happen to the woods? It was too risky, and the damage had been done, so he’d decided to let her go and tend to the charred earth. Letting out a shaky sigh, Solomon appeared to be trying to calm himself, eyes closing while he regained his composure. “But… I saw you trying to make amends, too, so… I suppose it’s a start.” Peering at her once again, the disguised Leshy lifted a finger to point it at her. “Got my eye on you, though…”

As the man glared daggers at her, Luce kept her gaze level. She didn’t give a shit who this guy thought he was, she’d make his night real fucking bad if he decided to try and pull something. But, when he started yelling at her about fleeing the scene, she blinked in confusion. Was he talking about when she’d blown up the Ring with Erin months ago? Or when she’d tried to blow up the shitty mime restaurant? Christ. She really needed to narrow down her arson attempts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And, even if I did, you’re gonna have to narrow it down.” She said with a shake of her head. The man seemed to be… restraining himself? Like he wanted to move against her? Which would be a bad idea on his part for sure. “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you some kind of stalker? Because you picked the wrong girl for that.”

Stalker? Oh. Solomon drew another weary breath, shaking his head as he pushed his anger aside. “The specifics don’t matter, what does matter is your lack of care when it comes to this place.” He gestured vaguely at the trees that surrounded them, letting his gaze slide away from her for the quickest of moments. “Look, I’m just… all I’m asking is for you to please stop burning it down with your fire… hands.” Whatever you’d call that, he wasn’t sure. He’d never really encountered anything like it before, and he didn’t exactly want to make a habit of it, either. “Lot of things live around here, you know, myself included… and we’re not exactly keen on having our home scorched on the regular.” Truth be told, it was something that half the damn town seemed to need to hear, given their track record. It was exhausting work, trying to keep up with every new threat.

“Uh, it sure fucking does if you’ve been following me around like some kind of creep.” Luce said as she continued to stare at the stranger. As he waved around at the forest and then mentioned her firehands, her eyes narrowed. Had he seen her use her magic before? No, he couldn’t have. For one thing, she covered her bases pretty fucking well. And even if he had, why the fuck was he only just now stopping her. “My fire hands? I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, dude.” She said, shaking her head as though he was speaking nonsense. “I don’t know what you think I’ve done or what you think you saw, but you’re mistaken.” She replied. She wasn’t sure what this guy’s deal was, but it was easier to deny this than to deal with the repercussions that came with someone finding out she was magically inclined.

“I’m not following you, I live here,” Solomon grumbled in return. “I see most things that happen, whether folks want me to or not.” Her continued rebuttals only made him growl in frustration, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You make fire. I don’t know how, but you do it in a way that… normal people cannot. Your denial does not change this fact.” He considered for a moment that perhaps she was like him—inclined to keep that aspect of herself secret. “And personally, I’ve nothing to gain from knowing that, I would just like to formally ask you to please stop setting fire to my forest. Take your flames someplace else.” Exasperation radiated off of him, but his gaze was steady. A hundred and fifty years ago, he’d have just slain her on the spot. But… he was trying to be a little kinder about it in this case, especially since she’d come back later to plant seeds. The gesture warranted recognition. 

He lived here? In the fucking woods? Because that was any less creepy than the fact he’d watched her here. Luce bristled a little as he continued to speak. He’d seen her conjure the flames. How? She’d had run-ins with people before, but she’d always been careful to make sure there was nothing that could ever tie her to the blazes she started. People could look for the ignition point, search for the match or the lighter that didn’t exist because she was the spark. And yet, this fucker seemed to know exactly what she could do. “Let’s say I can do what you say I can do.” She said before gesturing around to them. “Where else would I do shit? If I could make fire, I’m not exactly going to just light up the Common.” She said, though the corner of her mouth turned at the idea. That would be funny, if only for the irritation it would no doubt cause her mother. 

Solomon was, by every account, a very calm and level headed creature. That being said, there was one thing he had almost no patience for, and that was the petulance of a young firestarter.  His entire existence revolved around a singular purpose, and he could only bargain for so long with people like her. His anger flared at her casual, careless remark, dark eyes widening slightly in disbelief. “Anywhere else, girl. Have some respect for the natural world — you’d be dead without it.” He’d taken another step toward her by this point, and something in his body language had changed. He moved less like a man, and more like… well, it was hard to say in the dark of night. “Stop killing things and find a way to be useful with your talents, won’t you? You came back to plant seeds, so I know you must feel some amount of remorse. Hold on to that, remember that, and do not light another blaze in these woods ever again. Do you understand me?” He was being rather generous, he thought, but if she pushed him further still, he couldn’t see himself keeping his composure.

At the sound of the word “girl,” Luce’s eyes narrowed. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Folding her arms across her chest, she felt the heat of her body begin to grow and rise with her increasing anger. “Respect for the natural world? You think I don’t have respect for it?” She said with a growl. “Fire is just as natural as anything else here. What happens to a forest that’s overgrown with brush and shrubs? What happens to the trees when they get overcrowded and parasites begin to take over? Overgrowth saps the life right out of the soil just as much as my fire does.” She said before shoving her hand into the soil beneath their feet. Pulling up a handful of loamy soil, she let it sprinkle from her fingers back on the ground. “Ash feeds the forest, makes space for new things to grow. I planted those seeds because it was what should have happened. Death. Rebirth. Life. And death again.” She spat.

“Fire may be natural, but you are not,” Solomon snapped in return. “Forest fires at the hands of humans are anything but natural.” His relationship with humans had been… a bit tumultuous, over the years. While he found them to be an interesting sort, it was true that they had, time and time again, shown him that they cared not for the earth that had so lovingly lifted them from their evolutionary cradle and taught them how to walk. “It is not for you to decide when that cycle will happen, purely because you have no place else to play with your magic. Insolent… insolent, the lot of you!” His voice had raised in volume and boomed unnaturally around them, anger rushing to the forefront as he relived the countless times he’d seen the land ravaged by humans. All across the continent, as he moved from home to home, he’d encountered ones like her. Or at least, the picture of her that was piecing together in his mind’s eye. He’d slaughtered a whole village for poisoning the nearby river, and while that level of unhinged rage was rare for him, it was far from impossible. His glamour flickered, his focus waning as he became more irate with the woman standing before him. “Humans have been nothing but a blight on this world—you’re parasites, feeding off the land while you expand your rotten towns and cities, razing whole forests to the ground without care! That is not the life of someone who has respect for it.”

Unnatural. Yes, because she was unnatural. Who was he to say these things anyways? Obviously not human, but what was he? “You think I play with magic?” Luce said, temper flaring once more. Magic wasn’t a game, it wasn’t some toy to be played with, something casual to be used and forgotten. “Oh, you couldn’t be more wrong about that.” Magic lived in her, it breathed in her, it was a grounding tether of power that challenged her and demanded her to rise to that challenge. His voice rang through the woods, but Luce held her ground. This man-- no, not exactly man, obviously not. Whatever he was, he yelled at her and she resisted the urge to let her flames ignite. It would be so easy, so, so easy to let the blue flames lick the ground and spread. But. It would only be proving him right. Watching him, Luce caught the shimmer to his appearance, saw it shudder and caught a glimpse of what looked like… mushrooms? She couldn’t be sure, because the image disappeared almost as soon as she saw it. “If I’m a parasite, then what does that make you? If I’m so beneath you, what are you?” She asked, goading him on. What did he think he was, some kind of god?

Upset as he’d become, it didn’t matter to Solomon whether or not he’d accurately judged her entire character; he’d seen what he’d seen, and she seemed to think that setting his wood ablaze was a perfectly acceptable way to kill time, so he had no further words for her. His gaze was fixed steadily on her, eyes narrowed into slits as he stared her down furiously. It wasn’t until she called him out, questioning the authenticity of his appearance, that he faltered. Well, it wasn’t so much that she’d seen something—that was happening increasingly often, as of late—but it was her question that had him tripping over his own tongue. “I don’t—that doesn’t matter,” he growled. He didn’t rightly know, since he’d been forced to live alone as little more than a sapling and had never met another of his kind. “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you…. and how you really ought to find a better hobby.”

Quirking her eyebrow, Luce heard the misstep in his voice, the falter in his words. “It doesn’t matter?” She repeated, incredulity mixing with venom in her voice. “Oh, so you can dish it but you can’t take it? You can go around, accusing me of being unnatural, calling me out for ‘playing with magic’ but when it gets turned back around, suddenly it doesn’t matter?” She said, nodding. “Well, now, we’re talking about you. Who made you holier than thou? Who crowned you king of the forest? You don’t know anything about what I am, who I am, or what I’m capable of. Because, if you think that me coming out into the forest and setting fire in the middle of thunderstorms is a hobby, you don’t know me as well as you think. Fucking creepy forest stalker or not, you don’t know me.” She shot back. 

Frustration was coming off Solomon in waves, brought to life by both his anger with the individual yelling at him, and his own personal battle of not knowing who—or what—he truly was. He always told himself it didn’t matter, but in situations like these, it certainly seemed to. She was right, he didn’t know anything about her, and he’d never allowed himself the patience to try and change that before judging someone. Perhaps… perhaps he ought to give it a try. New millennium, new Solomon, and all that. Waiting until she was done, his gaze averted for the first time since their heated exchange had begun, Solomon interjected with a wavering voice. “If I had a word for it, I’d tell you,” he muttered, the defeat in his tone barely masked by indignation. “All I do know is that I’ve been alive for almost a thousand years, and I’ve always felt compelled to protect my home and my innocent neighbors from people like you.” On the last, accusatory word, Solomon flicked his dark eyes back toward the woman, brow furrowed. “So tell me… why shouldn’t I see you as a threat to the forest? Why should I give you a pass, when I’ve cut others down for smaller offenses?”

“Sounds to me like you should figure your shit out before you go around throwing words like “unnatural” around.” Luce fired back, not giving up any ground in this verbal sparring match. She really didn’t give a fuck who-- or what-- this guy was. She was tired of being used as someone else’s punching bag. She was tired of being the who had to make amends, who had to apologize, who was wrong. “A thousand years? Well, it seems you’re hardly a judge of character if you’ve been around this fucking long and can’t tell the difference between a pyromaniac and someone who gives a shit about this place. Because, this is probably really fucking surprising to you, but I do. I actually do give a shit about this town and this forest and the people who live here. I know these woods, I know the forest, I know the animals who call it home. Maybe not the way you do, but I know them.” She held up her hands, an innocent gesture. “I owned my shit. You saw me plant those seeds, you said it yourself. I destroyed that part of the forest the night that--” She caught herself. This person, creature, whatever. He didn’t need to know why she’d burnt the forest down. Why it had been grief and fear and sorrow that had turned her flames blue, that kept her flames blue.  “It happened. And that wasn’t right. So, I went back to make it better as well as I could.”

She was a persistent one, and Solomon could feel that it was wearing him down. This conversation was exhausting, and not doing much more than running in circles, so he caved. Deflating, the fae brought a hand to his forehead and let himself slump against the tree behind him. “Fine. Fine,” he muttered in annoyance, shaking his head. “While I can’t imagine that something would ever drive me to hurt this place like you did, I suppose I’ll have to just accept that fact and deal with it. Just… try to refrain from doing it again in the future, alright? It really does take a lot out of me, trying to fix messes like that.” Heaving a sigh, Solomon waved his free hand in the direction she’d been running when they first encountered one another without looking up at her. “Get out of here, go finish your run. You’ve given me a headache.”

“Yeah, you can’t. And, honestly? I hope you never do.” Luce said, remembering the grief that had overwhelmed her that night, when she’d thrown herself into the forest and done her best to run away from the reality of her situation. She’d started running that day and she’d never really stopped, not even now, when it was over. But, it wasn’t over, was it? Shaking her head, Luce focused her attention on the man who was waving her away. While she was glad that this guy was at least giving up with the whole “protector of the forest” act, she wasn’t a fan of the fact that he was telling her what she should do. Hands still up in the air, she flipped him off, the triangle tattoos on her knuckles a nice added touch of irony. “I’m not in the business of making promises to people. I do what I want. But,” She lowered her hands, and offered a single nod, “noted.” With that, Luce turned and continued on her run, not caring what he thought of their encounter. As far as she was concerned, all this meant was she’d discovered a new self-righteous neighbor.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Ice Queen sister; Peter Parker x twin sis reader

*Author’s note*

OKay so I’m gonna stop messing around and move some more stories that I have on my wattpad account onto here. I promised you all that I would move some more Peter Parker fanfics I had but I was either too busy or lazy to do so, but in light of the quarantine, I’m finally getting off my lazy ass to finally move them to here so that you all could see them. This was written god I wanna say 2 years ago so here are some serious warnings here:

Warnings: murder (Uncle Ben’s death), HINTS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT/RAPE (NO DETAILS BUT MENTIONS OF IT. If it makes you uncomfortable, just be warned but like I said there’s no scene of it being done, just mentioned), violence, and a stab at the police system.

I hope you all enjoy this fic and I promise the next Peter Parker fic I’ve got for you guys will be fluffier than this one.

Taglist:

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@ixchel-9275​

@platawnic​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

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Spiderman was holding a girl in his arms, unfortunately the girl was bleeding immensely from her side and he refused to let her go even once. But he had an even bigger problem since the criminal before them now held a gun in his hand and aimed it right at Peter's head. How did they get into a situation like this, well that in itself is a long story.

Many of you believe that Peter Parker was an only child right? Well you're wrong, I am his twin sister, his older twin by 12 minutes. My name is (Y/n) Parker and I've always been different from the moment my life turned to darkness or should I say coldness.

I don't know when it first happened, maybe after Peter and I had learned when our parents died in a plane crash but all I remember was feeling so cold that I had to be taken to the hospital and be put in the Intensive care unit for over a week till my body temperature got back to normal before Peter and I went to live with our Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

Then that car-jacker murdered our uncle, and it was then I finally snapped. I remember going to an alleyway, letting out a piercing scream and all of a sudden an icy mist came out of my mouth and froze the entire alleyway. I also took notice that my long (n/h/c) had turned almost pale white, like snow.

Ever since that day, I had changed completely. My heart had become cold that night and I vowed vengeance against my uncle's killer.

From that day on I had called myself the "Ice Queen" and vowed to give the proper punishments for those with hearts as cold as ice. Prison wouldn't change the fact that these criminals would still be breathing while their victims were six feet under, so any cold blooded killers out there, you better pray you don't feel my cold wind at your neck.

To hide any suspicion from my Aunt and brother, I would use my magic to make my hair appear to be the usual (h/c) it's always been but when it comes time for me to "go out", the magic fades and my snow white hair comes out.

Once I became the "Ice Queen", I vowed to never involve May or Pete into it because if any of the crime lords found out I had a weakness in my ice cold heart.....I don't even want to think about what they would do to them. I refuse to lose anyone else in my family.

It was your typical after school day. Pete and I were walking home from school when he had gotten a text on his phone and he said.

"Ahh its Mr. Stark hey (y/n) can you tell May that Mr. Stark wants to see me".

"Of course Pete, just try to be home in time for dinner. I'm making my special Chinese dinner tonight".

"And miss the chance to eat your cooking I don't think so. Thanks (n/n) love you!" He pecked my cheek and he took off running.

Stark. Oh how that name made shivers run down my spine, and I don't mean in the good way. I had known of my twin brother's little secret of him being Spiderman. Oh he can fool May but he can't fool me, I'm his twin and we got a super power of our own and we can tell when the other is hiding something. That and I snooped through his room and happened to find his Spiderman suit (I have a right to do that as big sister it says so in the book).

But still it's no excuse that someone as big as Tony Stark came into our apartment asking for Peter for a "grant" that I knew he never applied for to suddenly go off to Germany and when he comes home, he has a black eye. That is unacceptable in my book, no one hurts my little brother or leads him into danger and gets away with it.

After arriving home, I went into my room and released my magic and my hair turned back into the snow white it had become nine months ago. My room was kept cold due to my powers but I didn't care, I lay on my bed and let out an icy sigh as the ceiling began to frost over.

I then turned to a picture of Tony Stark that I had taken from a newspaper and quickly made an ice shard out of my hand and threw it dead center at Stark's smug face.

"You dare bring my brother into danger, if I see another injury on him I'll make you suffer" I sneered coldly to the picture.

"(Y/n)? Peter? I'm home!" I heard Aunt May's voice ring out. I looked up at the ceiling and made the frost disappear, I also got rid of the ice shard as well as the picture and made my hair turn back to my normal hair color and cried out.

"Hey May!" I left my room and helped her put the groceries away and as I put the milk up she asked me.

"Is Peter with that Tony Stark again?"

"Oh yeah, supposedly Mr. Stark had texted him for another assignment, happened after we got done with school".

"Ahh I see, well can't say I'm a fan of him though. Always taking Peter out of his school time you know I had gotten a call from his principal about him sleeping in class again today".

"You and me both May, you and me both. But he said he'd be home in time for dinner, did you pick up what I needed?"

"Right here, when can you start?" She took out some of the ingredients that I needed.

"Well school was pretty exhausting but I can start cooking within an hour or so, just to allow me some time to rest up and recuperate after a long day".

"Understandable, come on I also have some other things to bring in since I made several errands today, mind helping me?"

"Of course". I followed her to the elevator and I helped her bring in the dry cleaning, some art supplies, and a new sewing kit. After a little rest for about an hour and a half I began preparing my delicious and famous Chinese meal.

By the time 6 o'clock struck, Aunt May and I prepared the food but Peter had yet to show up. As May and I sat down at the table and of course as a run of thumb in her house "No one eats until the whole family is here". I began to get a little antsy about Peter's wellbeing. After that Vulture incident I knew he was getting himself into more dangerous waters that only I knew about and did not want him to be involved in.

By the time it was almost 8pm, May decided that we should just pack it up and not let it go to waste so we cleared up the table and she said that she was going to get us take out while I cleaned the rest of the kitchen. All my hard work gone to waste, Peter promised me he would be here but no Stark once again kept him from being here with his family just so he could go off and put himself in more danger than he's ever had in his whole life.

I then heard the sound of a window opening, I revealed a small ice mirror into my hand and from the small bit of frost I had hidden in Peter's room to judge my suspicion on whether he was Spiderman or not, I saw him coming into his room in his Spider suit. I allowed the mirror to disappear and I tried to keep myself calm as I soon heard called out to Peter.

"Where have you been little brother?" I heard him muttering then he called out.

"I am so, so sorry (n/n) but Mr. Stark kept me in later than I had expected. I really did try to come home in time but you know how he is". I soon heard him walking into the kitchen as I now held the pot that held my Sweet and Sour pork.

"You know you could've called or at least had the decency of sending me a text before bailing out on my dinner".

"I am so sorry (y/n) you have to believe me you of all people need to believe me how hard I tried to come back home. Here why don't I cleanup since you spent hours making the meal". Now I didn't mean for it to happen but my cold, icy heart made me lift up the pot, turn to Peter and slam it right on the table spilling out everything as I growled at him.

"IS THIS ALL A GAME TO YOU!? I was frantic!"

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked with such fear in his eyes. Seeing him afraid of me I tried to calm myself out as my voice whispered and choked out.

"You Pete, alone. In the city at this time of night, I thought—thought someone had hurt you". Soullessly I turned to the table and began to gather up the pork and noodles in my fists as tears filled my eyes and I continued on with a quiver in my voice, "Like our parents.....Like—Uncle Ben".

"(Y/n) I'm fine. I promise I may not be the biggest or the strongest guy in our school, but I know how to outwit someone should they try anything, I promise you won't get a call from the police to ID my body. I refuse to do that to you and May, especially after.....well you know that night". I felt Peter hold me in his arms and I leaned my head against his chest feeling my twin's heartbeat telling me that he was alive and well until I looked up at him.

"Peter what happened to your eye?"

"What oh that umm—it was an accident. As I was getting something from the top of Mr. Stark's shelf, I accidentally slipped and the binder fell onto my eye thus creating this". Liar. I knew he was lying, someone did this to him and I'm going to find out who. Composing myself I stood up and told him.

"I'll get you an ice pack". I got out of his arms and walked towards the cabinet and took out a large bag then hiding behind the open freezer, I used my powers to fill the bag with ice then I grabbed a towel and wrapped the bag in the towel and handed it to Peter and he thanked me but I turned away from him and continued to clean up.

Outside we both heard the sound of police sirens and I stated soullessly out loud.

"This dreadful city we live in. The darker it gets, the more dangerous it becomes, someone outta do something about that don't you think?"

Aunt May had come in and we ate our Chinese takeout then we all decided to turn in for the night. Just as I was turned on my TV, there was a news update about a car chase that about had been going on for the past two hours with a suspect that police had been chasing down for six months but each time they try to catch him, he slips free and avoids capture. Well not this time.

My hair slowly turned white and my usual clothes turned into my Ice Queen armor. A chainmail like ice color dress with small ice sharps coming down from my neck to my lower abdomen. I also made my Ice Queen mask that covered my entire upper face so that no one would be able to see who I was. I levitated in the air and then took off flying with the wind towards the street the guy was last seen.

*Basically this dress but imagine it as an icy blue/white color and the mask is below. I do NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THESE PICTURES!! THEY BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS!!*

Police cars and sirens were lighting up the streets and their sirens piercing the Queens streets. The car they were chasing exhilarated as fast as I could until it slammed into the yard of an old abandoned warehouse and soon the driver got out as fast as he could and disappeared into the warehouse.

Inside the man held out his gun ready to fire at anything or anyone that would come out as he held his big sack of money that he had 'obtained' from the bank down on 14th street. Suddenly he heard a clank from behind him.

"Who's there!?" Frost began to form from the windows and being the completely paranoid thief he was, he fired at the window only to see nothing there. Soon he felt a cold nip at the back of his neck and he turned around so quickly he probably gave himself whiplash. "I'm not playing anymore! Come out before I pump you full of lead!"

A small trail of ice slowly crept up behind him then suddenly it shot out freezing his feet to the ground. He let out a cry and tried to fire at the ice but before he could pull the trigger, his gun became so cold he dropped the gun as he cried out in pain from the cold. He looked at his hand to see it was completely broken out and frost bitten from where the gun handle was.

"Metal and steel always attract the cold, didn't you ever watch Titanic and see what the iceberg did?" I then stepped out from the shadows and the guy already terrified. Like all my victims before him he pleaded for his life to be spared.

"You don't understand. I was framed! Just give me a chance. Just give me a chance!"

"You don't deserve that chance. Robbing a bank, suspected for over 20 murders and rapes in the last six months". I then gripped his face tightly in my hand and removed his ski mask and from the police search lights shined right on the guys face and my felt my cold exterior literally crumble to pieces.

This man was the one who killed Uncle Ben. How do I know it was him? Because I was there when it happened.

I was scheduled to meet with a couple of friends at the library for a podcast project for one of my classes, I wanted to walk there but Uncle Ben insist that he drive me there. He felt that it wasn't safe for me walking 7 blocks alone at night. I tried to reason with him that I would be fine but like the father figure he's been to me since our parents died, he didn't budge and I let him drive me to the library.

Just as I was about to get out, this man comes out of nowhere and asks for the car. As stubborn as he was, Uncle Ben refused then the man forced my Uncle out of the car and the two of them began to rumble a bit. I tried to help him but he shoved me off and then he got on top of me pinning me to the car before trying to take off my shirt.

Uncle Ben got him off me but that's when he pulled out a gun and shot Uncle Ben right in the heart. Traumatized from what almost happened and from what I just saw, I could only crawl up to Ben and the car-jacker drove off with my Uncle's car and Ben died right there in my arms. After police and ambulance came and wanted to check on me, that's when I left and went into that alleyway and my powers soon revealed themselves.

As I stared at this man with wide eyes I felt something inside of me just snap. I gripped his throat and allowed my hand to become so unbearably cold, it literally burned his skin. The man cried out in agony as I sneered at him.

"Do you remember what you did 9 months ago at the Public Library? You better remember like your life depended on it you bastard!"

"I don't....please......"

"Don't bullshit me damnit! Why don't you take a closer look at my face"? I then revealed myself under the mask and showed im who I was. I even used my magic to turn my hair brown so that way he'd remember who I was. As soon as he saw me, his face was all I needed to know. "I've been waiting a long time for this!" I sneered as my hair turned back to white and my eyes phased to soulless grey mist color.

I released his feet but kicked him in the ball then I formed an ice bow staff and began to repeatedly beat on the guy as hard as I could. With each blow, I growled louder and more animalistic until I raised the staff high in the air before bringing it down across him sending him to the wall. He coughed out blood and I stated again as I strutted towards him.

"That was just for all that you've done to the people of this city. For all the women you've raped, the people you've killed and the places you've robbed. But what I have for you killing my Uncle, will be slow. Intimately and you will know every ounce of pain you've caused me and my family that night when you pulled the trigger".

"Hate to break this lovefest up but I think the proper judges will give him what he deserves". I looked up to see my twin brother in his Spiderman outfit just chilling above the catwalk of the warehouse.

"This doesn't concern you Spiderman!" I sneered trying to get my brother out of this.

"Sorry to tell you this babe but it is my problem. Cause from where I'm standing if I was a cop and I saw this, I would arrest both of you right here and now. So let me take care of him while you go run and hide. Didn't you know the Accords has been imprisoning any stray super humans lately?"

"Then why aren't you locked up with them?" I sassed at my twin.

"That—that doesn't matter I'm just trying to protect you here!"

"Well so am I now get out of here Pete before I make you leave!" I snapped.

"And I told you—wait, wait a minute. Did you just call me Pete? Only one person calls me.....Oh God (Y/n)?" I sighed deeply and briefly revealed my hair color to show him that it was me. "Wha—how... (N/n) how did....."

"I get these powers? Funny story actually. You remember when mom and dad died and I had to stay in the ICU for over a week? Well it was around that time my powers awakened. But it wasn't until this savage killed our Uncle that my powers truly came out. He's the one who killed Ben Pete and he deserves to be punished!"

"I agree (y/n) but not like this. Let's just take him to the police together and they'll—"

"The cops!?" I let out an icy laugh then I sneered at him. "The court won't do shit brother. They'll just give him a life sentence with no parole or if they do give him the death penalty, he'll be waiting sometime between 10-50 years before then, maybe even then he'll die in his prison cell. Well not this time, not him. This time I'm calling the shots, I've called all the shots on all those other low-lives who have killed people or tried to take advantage over people in the Night". I turned back towards the brute sprawled out beneath me.

"(Y/n) please. You can still change this, you won't have to do this anymore. Look at what this man has already turned you into. This is not who you are, I know you more than anyone else in this world, and do you think I will sit here and watch you destroy yourself. Remember what Uncle Ben always told us when we were kids?"

How could I ever forget the life lessons that Uncle Ben told us? He only told them to us every day ever since Pete and I became teenagers but this one word of wisdom I will never forget. And I bet most of you probably know what that is.

With great Power, comes great Responsibility.

I soon felt Peter's gloved hand take mine and he pleaded to me one last time.

"Please sis, let go of your hatred. Don't let vengeance consume you any longer that it already has. Please, I want my twin sis back". I looked at him and he looked at me. Taking his mask off, I could see the tears forming in his eyes wanting me to let go of my vengeance and take the rightful path and go with him to turn this murderer in and have him be punished the right way.

Suddenly I felt pain in my left side. I let out a gasp as I slowly began to crumble to my knees as Pete caught me in his arms and held me close to him trying to call out to me but everything was beginning to look blurry at least to me. I felt wet on my side and numbness took over me as Peter was calling out to me but I couldn't hear anything.

*3rd POV*

As Peter held his twin who had just been shot by the crook in his arms begging her to hang on he looked up to see the crook holding his gun up aiming right at him.

"So you brats were related to that old geezer with the car huh? Well meet him in hell". Suddenly frosty mist surrounded the warehouse so thick you could barely see the end of your nose. Pete felt his sister rise up from his arms and as the mist began to clear, standing before the two boys was a haunting image of (Y/n) Parker.

Her outer appearance now looked like a haunting lake spirit. She almost glowed a dark black and grey and her eyes were now pure black instead of white. She raised her hand up and the crook was levitated in the air and as (Y/n) spoke in a deep, almost demonic voice, the crook screamed in pure agony.

"You have no power here. William B. Franco. You are meaningless! Pathetic! A morsel! Now burn in the Icy Hell FOR ALL ETERNITY!!!" As William let out one last painful scream, his whole body was now completely covered in frostbite as he had been frozen from the inside out, he then exploded into black ice before a powerful magical light exploded throughout the warehouse and (Y/n) was now back to normal with the gunshot still at her side. She stumbled backwards as she groaned in pain but her twin was there to catch her and hold her in his arms once again.

As he saw the ice bits of the man who had murdered their Uncle scattered everywhere, he was shocked at what he had seen his sister do after just being shot.

"Holy shit (y/n)" Peter mumbled.

"I'd agree with you on that kid, by the way you're welcome for hacking into the police department for taking them away from the warehouse just before your sister went all Dark Ice Queen on the guy. Is she alright?" Peter looked up to see Tony Stark in his Ironman suit.

"I don't know Mr. Stark uhhh Karen read me her vitals!"

'Your sister will live Peter. That sudden Power she just experienced somehow stopped the bleeding but her energy is draining fast, she's got about a ten minute window before the bleeding resumes'.

"Mr. Stark please can you help my sister!?"

"Alright but on one condition".

"Anything name it".

*Time skip to Avenger's Facility 1st POV*

I woke up to see bright lights everywhere and I heard machines beeping softly beside me. To my left I saw Peter out of his Spiderman uniform and back into normal clothes.

"Pete?" I rasped out.

"(Y/n) oh thank god you're alright!" He embraced me tightly which made my groan in pain making him release me and apologize profusely.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Avengers facility. I had your brother bring you here and our medical team managed to save you before your wound reopened. How you feeling Elsa?"

"Don't call me Elsa!" I sneered icily.

"(Y/n) please I know you never liked Mr. Stark but he saved your life".

"Yeah which means you owe me kid, and I know just how you can pay me back since your brother has agreed along to the terms I have for both of you".

"I swear if I'm stuck bringing you cold ice cream, I will freeze this entire facility" I growled.

"Nope. But I won't deny getting the ice cream was my first proposition but I've come up with something better for yah kid".

*FF a few weeks later*

"So you still coming to the Decathlon meeting next week right?" asked my friend Mikaela.

"Of course just as soon as I get done working at my new Internship".

"You know I had a feeling with Peter taking the Stark Internship that he would eventually come find you, took him long enough didn't it?"

"Yeah well I'll admit that Pete's more of the brains of the bunch. Well see yah Kee-kee".

"See yah (n/n)!" I then got in the limo that was here to pick me up and I was taken on the 2 and a half hr. drive Upstate to the Avengers Facility. Standing outside the facility was none other than Tony Stark and my brother Peter. I got out of the limo and hugged my brother and he said.

"Glad you agreed to this (y/n). Oh man this is gonna be awesome! Spiderman and the Ice Queen working together to become the next Avengers!"

"Don't go getting too far there kid, you're still grounded from that Vulture incident. You're lucky I gave you back the suit when I did, let's just hope your sister here will be better behaved than you". Mr. Stark said as he put his shades on and urged us to follow him inside. "Welcome Miss Parker, to the Avengers Facility".

This was the agreement Tony had for me. Once I was feeling better, instead of turning me over to the government for unleashing my powers to the public and revealing that I was the Ice Queen, he offered me a position in training alongside my brother to become an Avenger's trainee.

Reluctantly I agreed and now here I am. As I walked through the facility and saw everything they had to offer, I began to think maybe this wasn't such a bad idea I mean at least I'm not in a prison cell away from my family for doing what I believe was right for the people.

Plus I think Mr. Stark might have a soft spot for me since I may remind him of a certain soldier who's now a war criminal. But as long as I'm with my brother and I can finally keep an eye on him to make sure he stays out of immense trouble, I'm okay with this.

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 175

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 27 - “Rin-chan’s Date with a Handsome Ghost!?” Date watched: 24 March 2020 Original air date: 12 August 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/7vdwVuj Transformation Gallery: https://imgur.com/a/6k6SzS0 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

not pictured: a handsome ghost

Are you ready for more summer vacation antics? How about some ghost stories! No, not the gag dub kind, I mean actual ghost stories. Yes, tonight the girls decide to poke around an abandoned wing of their school and wind up in the middle of something bigger than themselves. Let’s dive in!

The Plot

All the girls are gathered around a table in the dark as Komachi tells them the story of Count Rosett, who used to live in a mansion behind the school with his girlfriend, until she died in a tragic accident. The count lived out the rest of his days in sadness and now his spirit returns to the school on the anniversary of her death. Nozomi, Urara, Milk, and Coco are all a little scared by the story, Karen and Nuts seem indifferent or even bored, but Rin is scared out of her mind. So naturally they go check it out.

Over in Nightmare, Kawarino himself summons Arachnea to the office and tells her that while her work is good, if she instills fear into her opponents, then they’ll expend all their energy. Sound advice honestly. With that in mind, she sets off, and begins to haunt the girls on their ghost hunt. How timely! Arachnea plays her card very quickly by bringing a skeleton to life, which makes itself known to Rin and only Rin, so she bolts off down the hallway away from the other girls. Suddenly she runs into another shadowy figure.... who reveals herself as Masuko Mika, who is inexplicably here at the same time with the same objective of finding the ghost and reporting on it.

or they’re doing the fusion dance

Nozomi, Urara, Komachi, Karen, and the fairies continue exploring the school building, trying to find Rin, and end up in a pitch-black classroom. Karen bumps into something, and when they shine the light on it revealing it to be a large statue of a man, she finally gets scared and screams. After Karen calms down, Komachi deduces that this must be Count Rosett, and then they see a large portrait on the wall of a woman who looks a lot like Rin.

or more accurately the animators drew Rin’s head on this random portrait

Rin and Mika continue wandering around until the skeleton reappears and starts chasing both of them. Rin trips and falls but Mika doesn’t stop, so Rin scrambles into a nearby classroom to hide and the skeleton passes her by. This time, though, she comes face to face with yet another specter, as a large shadowy figure reaches for her, and this one isn’t a student.

She freaks right the fuck out and loses consciousness. When she comes to, the other girls are surrounding her and asking what happened. When she explains, Komachi puts the pieces of the puzzle together and deduces that this was Count Rosett, the portrait was of his deceased girlfriend, and he was trying to give Rin a gift for his girlfriend. They convince her to try to meet him again and resolve his centuries-old suffering by accepting the gift. She really does not want to but they beg and plead her and she begrudgingly agrees to try it. Once again she enters the room and lo and behold the shadowy figure reaches for her. However the girls suddenly finds themselves in broad daylight in the courtyard of the school building and adjacent mansion, with a handsome man standing in front of her. He greets her and presents her with a rose-shaped hairpin, but before Rin can explain that she’s not his lover, the sky turns purple and Arachnea makes her appearance. She gloats about this excellent terrain and turns the wandering skeleton into a Kowaina, which is just a giant skeleton with a Kowaina mask on its forehead. Rin and the other girls quickly transform. 

The monster wreaks havoc on the mansion, which Rouge takes special exception to on behalf of the Count, and Arachnea retorts that it doesn’t matter anyway since this is a false world, before reminding Rouge that she had just been deathly afraid of the Count’s ghost mere moments ago. Rouge exclaims that her fear went away when he communicated his feelings and the girls all go on the attack. Mint and Aqua and then Dream and Lemonade perform a nice one-two combo on the monster as Rouge declares that she won’t forgive Nightmare for wrecking the Count’s house, even in an illusion world, and then her brooch glows and she summons her new weapon, the Rouge Tact. She uses it to perform a powered-up version of her finisher: Rouge Burning

The items should have been called Rouge Torch and Dream Tact but what do I know

This attack utterly destroys the Kowaina, and the mansion returns to its former beauty. The girls detransform and Count Rosett once again tries to give Rin the hairpin. She tells him she isn’t the girl he was waiting on, but he responds that she fought so hard for his sake and he just wants her to have it. She smiles the biggest smile and then the Count and the scenery fade away, leaving the girls back in the school building, with Rin still holding the hairpin. As they leave the building, Nozomi teases Rin about possible latent feelings for the Count, and then Mika reappears screaming about how she was chased by a skeleton. Komachi suggests they go back inside and get pictures, but Mika is too afraid to see any more ghosts. However, Rin states that ghosts are just like people, they experience normal feelings and once those feelings are communicated there’s no cause for fear, a marked change from her earlier behavior.

The Analysis

It’s shameless summer filler and it is EXCELLENT. This is how you do low-stakes. It’s fun! It’s a great character spotlight! It takes us new places! It ties into typical summer activities! This plays out like an episode of Scooby-Doo, with a shoujo bent. It’s comedy gold from the very beginning, when Komachi tells a ghost story and the others are varying degrees of afraid and all the way through the episode when Rin is the only one being haunted, either by Arachnea’s interference, classmates, or actual ghosts. The poor girl can’t get a break. But the comedy is done excellently, and the episode is positively filled with wonderful facial expressions (which is why my gallery ballooned to 132 images, a record for a non-movie or finale episode, so check that out).

I love how Karen and Nuts are just so over it all, while Komachi is too excited about the mystery to be scared. It makes sense given her affinity for literature, she’s heard it all before and she just wants to see if there’s any weight to the rumors. Nuts, being well-read and also generally apathetic, is probably just not spooked by ghost stories period. But back to Rin: Nozomi explains how she’s positively terrified by ghosts, and so of course she’s the one that ends up seeing them all, and ultimately meeting Count Rosett in the flesh (sorta) teaches her a valuable lesson that hey, they’re not so bad if you can reach an understanding. I don’t believe this has any lasting impact on her character but I might be wrong. I hope we see some hint of this going forward.

As I said, while Rin is scared out of her wits, the other girls are far from unshakeable. Even Karen, who spends about half of the episode acting bored, finally flips when she bumps into what she thinks is a person in the dark.

Nuts is still unimpressed though

Nozomi and Urara are scared when they start but everyone’s animosities fade away once they find the portrait of Count Rosett’s presumed girlfriend, and all they can think of is trying to get him to meet Rin and put him to final rest.

This and the next episode have really made me realize a problem to the show at this point, however. Since they got rid of Girinma, Nightmare’s only grunt is Arachnea, while Gamao is still wandering around as a free agent, and the two basically alternate episodes. Bunbee is going to dip his toes in the water again in episode 29 but it’s kind of a slog on the villain side until episode 31 when Hadenya and Bloody show up. Gamao is completely unlikeable and Arachnea has all the personality of a loaf of stale bread. Her attempt at being scary here consists of chasing Rin with a skeleton in an already haunted setting. That’s all she can muster. I’m very reticent to give Smile Precure credit for anything but they definitely had a better haunted school episode.

During the battle, Rouge accesses her portion of the Symphony Set for the first time, which is called the Rouge Tact. “Tact” is of course a name that will be reused for various Precure baton weapons in the coming seasons. The wiki says that it’s derived from the German word “taktstock”, which refers to a music conductor’s baton. As for its design, it is a large leaf shape with a handle on one end and an extension on the other which lights on fire. As I quipped above, I think it should have been called “Rouge Torch” while Dream’s baton should have another name, but oh well. The way she uses it is interesting, as you’d expect her to use it to launch a fireball directly at the enemy but she doesn’t. During her normal Rouge Fire attack, she creates a burning butterfly from the back of her hand and then palmstrikes it into the monster. Here, instead, she ignites the tact, then in a single motion she swoops the flame in front of her as the butterfly separates from her hand, she releases the tact and grabs it with her right hand as she pulls back with her left for a palmstrike and the burning butterfly shoots towards her enemy. A lot happens in a short time but the effect isn’t dramatically different from her normal attack, and rather than shooting a stream of fire directly from the tact she just uses it like a lighter. Once again, it suggests the staff weren’t sure how to incorporate the Symphony Set into the show.

I appreciate them remembering that Masuko Mika exists but it’s a really big coincidence that she’s here on this night. The script didn’t make it clear whether the ghost was spotted on one night every year, or every month, or just randomly. If they had clarified that, it may have made more sense for her to appear. I’m glad they’re trying to incorporate her but all she really does is scare Rin, sneak around, and then run off at the first sign of actual spookiness. Bring her into the group dang it! Make her a friend of the precures. Minor complaint.

From a cinematorgraphy standpoint this episode has some really cool camera shots. My absolute favorite is this zoom back from the abandoned wing of the school:

And later on the inverse: a zoom in and tilt upwards to look at the portrait of the lady that resembles Rin:

These scenes help to breathe some energy into the episode and provide atmosphere, enhancing the creepy and mysterious mood of the place.

Then there’s this sequence where the girls are trying to convince Rin to go find Count Rosett again, where the camera dollies back in stages and then shifts right to look at Karen.

I don’t remember seeing complex camerawork like this in previous episodes so to have so many of these unique shots in one episode is really cool and it makes me want to see more of it.

Finally, while this isn’t a very complicated shot, I like this bit from the fight where Dream and Lemonade perform a double kick in perfect sync.

I’m a sucker for cool fight choreorgraphy and this fits the bill. Sure, we’ve seen other more complex fights in this season alone but I like to call them all out when I find them.

(reminder: you can find higher resolution copies of these gifs in my gallery, I have to keep them under 2 MB for Tumblr)

All told, this episode is a fantastic summer ghost story. It balances comedy with an interesting mystery and provides Rin with just enough character growth to justify her unlocking her new finisher. It’s got some wonderful facial expressions that you can find in my gallery and it’s only brought down a little by its unerwhelming villain.

Next time, another summer staple: it’s time for a festival! Look forward to it!

Pink Precure catchphrase count: 0 kettei!

[pilyarquitect]

Getafix’s mistake - Chapter 3. A worrying discovery

Hello everyone! Here I bring you a new chapter of this Asterix fic, I truly hope you’ll all like it. Now when I first started this story, at this point I could go through three different directions with what happened to Asterix. First, he has a child’s body but keep his adult memories; second, he has both the size and the mind of a child; and the third, he has a child’s body but his mind has no memories or losing them. What of those choices do you thing I went with? You can leave your opinions on your reviews, I’d love to hear your thoughts. 😊

Well, I’d like to give a special thanks to @drummergirl231-2 for helping me editing this story. I’m really, really, really grateful to her, she’s awesome!

Okay after say all this, here you have the first chapter of this story, I hope you all will like it!

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Getafix entered his cabin. Right now, concern for Asterix had reached unsuspected highs in the old druid's soul. Where could he be? What if something had certainly happened to him? Getafix knew well Asterix didn’t make others suffer on purpose… not his family, his friends… or especially Obelix, at least not of his own free will.

During his conversation with Obelix, Getafix had tried to reassure the red-haired Gaul, assuring him Asterix would return. But being honest, at this point, the druid himself doubted that was true. If Asterix hadn’t returned, it was because something must have happened to him. Surely something had happened to him.

But for the moment Getafix didn’t know what to do either. Obelix had suggested to him to go to the forest himself to look for his friend, but the druid had rejected his offer. He didn’t want to risk leaving the town without the protection of the great Gaul. It wasn't that he didn't trust the rest of the inhabitants. It was just that if the Romans were involved in the recent disappearance of the blond Gaul, they’d most likely expect Obelix to come looking for him. Everyone knew they were inseparable, and if that happened, then the town would be left without one of its greatest pillars of protection.

To calm, at least temporarily, the menhir rock-cutter’s mind, Getafix had suggested that if Asterix had not yet returned by the afternoon, then they would speak to Vitalstatistix about what should they do next.

For his part, and to calm his own growing nervousness state, Getafix decided to continue with the potion he had been working on. That would at least help release some of the tension he was undergoing, he thought. Getafix took down the canteen and opened it to pour its contents into a basin, but when the liquid began to fall into the container, Getafix's eyes opened in shock. This color… this color was like the magic potion! How could this be? The druid was certain that his potion was very different in color from the concoction that granted superhuman strength, so what was going on? Stunned, he looked at the green canteen that was still in his hands…

At that precise moment, Getafix could almost feel his heart stop. In addition, the old druid felt as if a lightning bolt had cut him in two, because suddenly, a memory came to his mind. He had put the magic potion for Asterix in that canteen, the green one. And his new potion in the other one. That meant… when Asterix showed up just hours before in search of the brew, he mistakenly gave him the wrong canteen! What a fool! How could he have done such a thing? Getafix reached a new level of concern that he would never have believed possible when he realized that Asterix's disappearance could be due to his negligence.

Realizing his terrible confusion, Getafix emerged as fast as he could from his cabin, his red cloak and long beard swaying in the rushing wind. With the maximum speed his legs allowed him, he made his way to the chief's cabin. He had to report what he had just discovered immediately, for in many ways Asterix's life could depend on it.

******************************************************

"THIS CHILD IS ASTERIX!"

The moment these words came from Cleverus's mouth, a sepulchral silence took over the entire camp. The Centurion was petrified and his eyes traveled from the boy to each of the patrol members, trying to find in one of them a hint of lies, but he couldn’t. They all had the same expression that indicated they agreed with what their squad leader had just said. One of them even showed him the Gaul’s belongings they had collected from the forest, among which was the characteristic helmet of the warrior Gaul.

Caius Marsupialus was stunned. It was very difficult for him to believe what he was seeing; it was too much to comprehend. Then, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over them, the man of higher rank asked:

“Are you telling me that this child is Asterix, Asterix? The warrior of the irreducible village?”

"That same Asterix, Centurion. Do we know someone else with that name?" Cleverus replied annoyed.

"And why didn't you say so before?" Caius Marsupialus asked again.

"It's what I was trying to do!" the lowest ranked one complained.

"Okay, okay, by Juno! Could you explain to me how this happened?” he asked again this time pointing to the unconscious warrior.

“Before I do that Centurion, don't you think we'll have to hide him? You know, in case some Gaul shows up?”

"You’re right. Put him in my tent. Then I’ll take care of him personally." replied the Centurion.

"Understood Centurion."

The soldier who carried Asterix and the one who carried all his belongings prepared to enter and leave everything in the centurion's tent, but Caius Marsupialus stopped the one who carried the warrior's objects, and took the canteen from the belt. After that he studied it and a malicious smile appeared on his face. This canteen must contain the famous magic potion, he thought. He then proceeded to remove the cap and brought the container to his lips, but when he was going to drink, a voice stopped him.

"No Centurion, don't do it!"

"And why shouldn't I do it, legionary?" Caius Marsupialus asked, irritated that someone had dared to give him an order.

"If you do, the same thing that happened to that Gaul will happen to you too." replied the legionary.

Caius Marsupialus turned pale on hearing this. He looked again at the container from which he had been about to drink, and without wasting time, returned the stopper to its place and kept it as far away from him as possible.

When the two legionaries who had entered Caius Marsupialus's tent left again, the Centurion demanded from his men the explanation he so longed for to understand what had happened.

"Okay Centurion… what has happened is that we were in the forest, patrolling as always. Suddenly, we ran into that villager from the irreducible hamlet." began Cleverus.

"Yes, then he smiled and started to run towards us while taking the canteen from his belt." another continued.

"That’s true, by Jupiter! I felt terror when I saw him take a drink from the canteen,” said a third patroller.

"But after drinking from that canteen, he’s started to slow down until he stopped, and then he fell to his knees and his body shrank to the size it is now." concluded the latter.

“After the transformation he lost consciousness and since we didn’t know what to do, we brought him here. That's all that has happened, Centurion,” Cleverus said again.

"Okay… by Mars, do you know if the effects of this potion are temporary or permanent?" asked Caius Marsupialus.

"How do you expect us to know? This has never happened to us!” Cleverus protested.

“That’s right, but we have to find a solution. That Gaul cannot stay here. It would only bring us problems. Especially if the other Gauls discover what has happened,” said the Centurion, pointing to the tent where Asterix was.

"Right Centurion. Then what do we do?" asked one of the many legionaries.

The Centurion assumed a thoughtful posture. One arm resting on the other and his chin resting on his hand. Then he looked at all his men and said:

"Act normally, as if nothing has happened. If you meet the Gauls in the forest, don’t even think to tell them anything about the prisoner." then the Centurion seemed to remember something and added:

"There’s another thing: I want you to clean the camp, because soon we’ll receive the visit from a senator from Rome. I don't want anything to be out of place, understood?"

"Yes Centurion!" everyone in the camp replied.

"Very well, that's all, AVE!" the Centurion stood firm and said goodbye to his men.

"AVE!" answered the others. Then, each returned to his tasks. Some immediately began cleaning the camp for the imminent arrival of the Roman senator.

Caius Marsupialus, meanwhile, entered his tent again, only to find the small Asterix still unconscious on the ground. Just thinking that one of the Gauls who had given them the most headaches now had such a fragile and helpless form made the Centurion think of the irony of the situation. They, as conquerors, should show conquered peoples they were superior, and not the reverse, which was what happened with that small village to which he had been assigned.

Caius Marsupialus sat in his chair, waiting patiently for his prisoner to wake up. Only after talking to him would he decide what to do next.

******************************************************

Vitalstatistix sat in his cabin with a bucket full of water soaking his feet. He had removed his typical green robe and at this moment he wore a tank top and his blue vertical striped pants. The Gaul was calmly reading the latest news that his brother had brought to him from Lutetia. Vitalstatistix’s brother had the habit of sending him his letters written on marble of the best quality, undoubtedly a way to brag about his many triumphs throughout his life as a warrior – and as an arms companion of the great Vergincetorix. Impedimenta, Vitalstatistix’s wife, was next to him sewing, both were talking quietly when suddenly the door of the cabin opened and a very agitated Getafix appeared behind it. Everyone could tell he had come running since he was panting heavily in an attempt to catch his lost breath.

Seeing him in such a state, the village chief and his wife immediately stood up with obvious concern on their faces.

"Getafix! What’s going on, oh druid?"

"Vitalstatistix… I-I’m sorry to interrupt… like this in your… cabin… but we must immediately go… looking for Asterix, before… it’s too late."

Seeing the level of agitation of the druid, Vitalstatistix grabbed a towel and wiped his feet. After this, he offered a Getafix a chair for him to sit down and tell him everything more calmly.

"Come on Getafix, explain to me what this is all about." said the village chief delicately, trying to calm the man in front of him.

"Vitalstatistix… it is my fault… that Asterix has… disappeared."

"What?! What are you talking about, Getafix?” Vitalstatistix asked now slightly altered. The fact the druid accused himself of something like that wasn’t normal.

"I've… I've been working on a new potion… it's not finished yet…" he continued to gasp. "This morning when Asterix… came to see me at my cabin… I mistakenly gave him this potion instead of the magic potion… we have to go looking for him! I’m afraid something serious has happened to him."

"That potion… do you know what it could do to whoever takes it?"

"No, unfortunately I don’t know. That's why I say that we have to leave as soon as possible. I fear, and I hope isn’t Tutatis’ will, it may even kill whoever takes it."

Vitalstatistix paled when hearing this. Just thinking that Asterix or any other of his subordinates, but above all, friends could die was something that frightened him. As a chief he would feel he had failed. As a friend, he would hate himself for not having been able to avoid it.

Then the chief thought of Obelix and Getafix. The druid as maker of that potion, would undoubtedly blame himself if something happened to the blond Gaul, and as for Obelix, knowing the close friendship that united them both, losing Asterix would mean losing Obelix as well, since it would be very difficult for the menhir dealer to recover from such a thing.

Impedimenta had gone to get some water so that Getafix could recover sooner, but she entered just when Getafix said his last sentence, and obviously, she heard it, which left her stunned. Unintentionally, the glass she was carrying slipped from her hands and fell to the ground breaking into thousands of pieces. The two men saw this and immediately Vitalstatistix went to his wife's side and hugged her tightly, that was all it took for Impedimenta to recover, she separated from her husband and asked:

"Getafix, in addition to those here, does anyone else know this?"

"No, no one else knows. But I think we need to tell the rest, the sooner we find Asterix the better… but let me speak to Obelix while you speak to the rest of the people, Vitalstatistix. I’m afraid Obelix is not going to deal very well with this news. Let me tell him." suggested the druid.

"Of course, Getafix. I don't think there is anyone more appropriate than you to tell him news of such magnitude," replied the village chief.

Then Vitalstatistix called one of his carriers who was waiting at the entrance and sent him to call the rest of the village's inhabitants. While this Gaul was doing what his leader had ordered, Getafix headed towards Obelix's cabin, passing again in front of Asterix's cabin. He looked towards the blond Gaul's residence and a great pang of guilt invaded his heart. Why had he been so careless? Now the village warrior was probably paying the consequences of his actions.

He continued on his way to the neighboring cabin. His steps were heavy but fast, since he learned that possibly the blond warrior was running out of time. But on the other hand, he didn’t know exactly how to broach the subject with Obelix, since the great Gaul was very sensitive… especially with regard to the people closest to him. When Getafix finally reached the cabin door, he took a deep breath and entered.

******************************************************

He felt tired… very tired. His whole body hurt, especially his chest and head. He couldn't remember what he had done to get so tired or why everything hurt so much, nor could he understand it. What had he done to make him feel as if a cart had run him over? It was something that was beyond his understanding.

He also realized that he was sleeping on the floor. It was strange. He usually slept in his bed. Had he fallen? But he wasn't one to move around much at night, so that was unlikely, but then… why was he on the ground? He decided to get up, and to do so he used his hands… or at least he tried, because he realized his hands were tied!

This was already too strange. Even though he still felt his eyelids were very heavy, he made feeble efforts to lift them, until he finally managed to open his eyes slightly. His vision was blurred, but he managed to see a silhouette that seemed to be watching him and heard him say the following words:

"Welcome to Totorum Camp, Gaul."

**************************************

Welp, chapter three finished. As you could see, Getafix realized about his mistake, and now Vitalstatistix knows about this too. In addition, the Romans will soon have a visit. What will this mean for Asterix? And about Asterix, as you could see, he has woken up how will he react, if you want to share your ideas about it, don’t doubt to leave a review, reviews help me to get motivation to continue writing 😊

Okay, after say that, I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I also would like to thank to all the people who’d read this story and: @elianemariane17 @theholypencil @alyxox02 @lilacivories for their likes

See you in the next chapter 😉

[julietandcinderellavocaloid]

Broken Juliet Chapter 9

With the decision to put what had happened the night before behind them, Rin and Nero ate a small breakfast and began walking hand in hand back to their village. They arrived in time for Rin to meet with Merli and sell all her handkerchiefs to the Alice before she moved away. Merli would not accept the handkerchiefs at a discount, and Rin made more in that one transaction than she typically made during the Saturdays she used to spend selling to multiple customers.

"All I ask is you pay the kindness forward one day," Merli had simply replied after Rin tearfully thanked her.

As Rin and Nero returned home, Nero teased, "Looks like you'll get your hovercraft wish for sure now. We might be able to move to another district altogether."

"As long as there's plenty of country in the district we choose, then let's do it," Rin replied, her excitement for the day she could leave the village forever reignited.

The high of the date at the fair lingered even as the events afterwards slowly faded away, and things began to return to normal. Routine resumed. Leon's other workhands still thought of Rin as nothing more than furniture that worked in the fields alongside them.

After service two weeks later, Nero gently laid a hand on Rin's shoulder as the other churchgoers exited the building and said, "You know, today is great fishing weather."

"It is," Rin agreed, having gone with Nero a few times. Nero grinned, and Rin returned the gesture as she nodded along.

The two returned to the barn, changed into the most worn clothes they owned, grabbed their fishing supplies, and walked to the lake. They ate sandwiches for lunch along the way, bragging over who was going to catch the biggest fish. When they arrived, Nero began setting up the boat tied to the dock, left there by nobody knew whom but was used by anyone and everyone who wanted to use it.

Nero made sure Rin was safely inside before he hopped in. Using the oars, he and Rin paddled half a mile away from the dock. From there, it was only a matter of baiting their hooks and waiting for the fish to bite.

"To live close to a lake so we can keep doing this for years to come," Rin said quietly as the afternoon leisurely rolled by.

"To own a boat for ourselves so we can keep doing this without fear the boat is going to start leaking at any moment," Nero replied. Rin looked at Nero to see him frowning at the bottom. "I'm surprised this thing is still floating. Maybe after today, we should start fishing on the dock."

Rin didn't disagree. The wood did look old, and it did begin to look as if it struggled to hold up their weight. Not knowing how to swim, she decided for the future it would be better to not take any chances.

Time lolled by, and the sun dragged across the sky.

"No bites today." Rin sighed, disappointed. "I was really hoping for grilled fish for dinner."

"Let's give it another hour," Nero decided.

"You keep fishing. I think I'm going to sit back for a moment and rela—AHHHH!"

It was as Rin turned around the side of the boat finally gave away. Her back had barely begun to lean against the boat when the boards broke, but it was enough for Rin to lose balance and fall backwards. Reaching out, Rin tried to find something, anything to clasp onto, but her fingers grasped only air as her entire body hurled into the lake below.

Thrashing wildly, Rin tried with no success to break the surface. The more she kicked, the harder it became to move her limbs. It was as if snakes were wrapping their bodies around her to keep her from escaping. Rin was sinking quickly. Her lungs, not used to Rin holding her breath, already ached for air.

Eyes tightly shut, Rin couldn't see anything. The sounds around her were muffled, but she did hear what she believed to be a splash as someone else jumped into the water. Against her body's instincts to keep kicking and clawing, Rin stopped. Nero always promised to jump in after her if she ever fell into the lake, but he couldn't help her if she didn't let him. Trusting Nero, Rin remained still even as she felt something grab her, the snakes on her body and limbs coming loose.

It felt as if they were reaching the surface, but the momentum came to a sudden halt. Lungs on fire, Rin opened her eyes to try to figure out why they stopped. All she needed was to see Nero's concerned face to realize something was wrong.

Their chests pressed together, Nero looked at Rin as if her face was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen before hugging her close. It was the tightest hug he had ever given her. Then with a strength Rin didn't know Nero had, he threw her upwards hard enough for Rin's head to break the surface.

Rin gasped for air and clung to the boat. Adrenaline granting her the strength, Rin pulled herself back onto the boat through the opening that sent her into the water in the first place. Safely aboard, Rin stayed on her knees and turned around to help Nero back up.

But Nero never resurfaced.

Although Rin wasn't aware of it, and looking back she still didn't remember doing such a thing, she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her bloodcurdling shouts alerted nearby hikers that something was wrong. They rushed to her aid, one swimming all the way over to the boat while the others sought help.

Try as the hiker might, he could not calm Rin down. When Rin was finally able to string together the words to tell him what was wrong, he dived in after Nero. He reemerged alone, his shaking head the only way he could tell Rin it was already too late.

Overwhelmed by grief, shock, and summer heat, Rin collapsed as she fully understood what this news meant.

Nero was dead.

And it was all Rin's fault.

When Rin fell overboard, officials now knew from both investigating and hearing her own account multiple times, her thrashing stirred up a net anchored to the bottom of the lake. It began to tangle her in, but Nero arrived and pulled it off Rin. However, Nero himself got caught as well when he tried to kick to the surface, Rin in his arms. The anchor holding the net down was too heavy for Nero to move, and his ankles were too tied for him to break free on his own. Although he probably tried anyway to free himself after launching Rin upwards.

Only it wasn't enough. Nero was down there alone, and he didn't have a knife or anything to cut himself free. While Rin cried for help that didn't come till minutes later, he drowned.

Nero selflessly spent his final moments saving Rin. By diving in after her, he saved her life with his as the price. In an act of pure, genuine love, Nero gave up his life for Rin.

And it had become the shame and guilt Rin bore for the days, weeks, months that followed. The funeral was unbearable. His burial even more so. Brother Fukase tried his best to console her. Leon told Rin that this was her fault, breaking her tattooed wrist and forcing her to work through the pain as a reminder for what she had done, what she had cost.

Every night, before Rin went to sleep, she lied on the mattress that was Nero's before he gave it to her over a year ago, when they had barely been friends. She stared at the ceiling, knowing now more than ever that there was no mistake in the tattoo given to her that dreadful day over twelve years ago. Rin was a curse, and by loving her, Nero suffered the consequences.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Return To Me

Ch. 2: Support and Rage Vampire, Quirkless, Victorian / Medieval Era AU

Based off of THIS AU by @vines-of-an-ivy / @aizawasbedtimestories

Genre: Angst / Romance

Rating: Explicit | Violence / Blood / Mentions of suicide and self harm / Depression / Mental Illness / Sex and intimacy

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC)

Side Pairings: Seijirou Eguchi (OC) x Dokuji Kobayashi (OC), Eijirou Kirishima x Nene Date (OC)

Bakugou and Koge were just about to start their life together when he vanishes without a trace. Now, all she wants is for him to come back to her, even if he has turned into something inhuman.

“Koge are you sure you want to wear that out? What if it rains on it?”

“Oh it will be fine, Nene. It gets washed in water, what would a little rain do to it?” Koge glowered up at her friend as they walked together down the stone paved streets of town. Although the weather was quite dreary, grey and wet, the streets were bustling with activity. People of all kinds and social status wandered around, set on their destinations that Koge could care less about knowing. Although it was busy, the crowds seemed to part for them, allowing them through without much effort. But, unlike her brighter days, the people in their way did not part out of respect.

Rather, it was a fear that had them stepping out of the way. Koge did have to admit that she understood why they were wary of her, though she thought that this nonsense would have faded with time. It isn’t uncommon for a lover to suffer from a mental illness of some kind when losing their partner, either to death or interest in another. But, whatever Koge had been suffering from wasn’t understood by anyone but herself. The pain had been unbearable when her lover had vanished, and somehow, there had been a rumor that spread. It was said that the cuts on her wrists were not an attempt to take her life, but instead a blood sacrifice, a ritual to beg the gods to return her lover to his world.

It was nonsense, of course. Koge had tried to do no such thing, but since then, she had been labeled as a possible witch. She had even been blamed for Bakugou’s disappearance, some saying she sold his soul to the devil in exchange for power. It was the most ridiculous thing Koge had ever heard, but her attempts to explain herself were in vain. And so, she was outcasted by all but those closest to her, including her family, Bakugou’s family and her few friends.

The biggest reason why Koge wouldn’t have done any type of ritual to bring him back was because she didn’t believe he was dead in the first place. No body found, no evidence, no suspects, no proof. There was nothing to make her believe that he had passed on, and so she kept hold of the smallest hope that perhaps he would return one day. Tomorrow, another year, five years or even twenty years from now, she would welcome him back with open arms.

At first, she had tried to argue with anyone who said that he was dead, often getting into verbal fights that a woman of her status should never be seen engaging in. Polite, quiet and obedient is how she was supposed to be, but that is never how she was. Bakugou had told her that’s what he liked about her, how she never held her tongue even in front of someone who could have her thrown into jail with a single word. Of course, being this way didn’t come without its punishments and difficulties. This included being dubbed as insane any time she tried to claim that Bakugou was still alive, even so far as to nearly be thrown into a madhouse for it. Her only salvation had been her soon to be Mother-In-Law, who had used her status and money to protect her, but only with the condition that Koge would calm down.

So she had. Nearing the one year anniversary of her lovers disappearance, Koge kept to herself, not even bothering to snap back at people who tried to belittle her or insult her. She had her family, her friends and her possessions to keep her company, bringing what little happiness she could muster to the surface. One of them being the subject of Nene’s current worry.

A deep red scarf that used to belong to her lover, worn around her shoulders and tucked into her bodice to act as a draped shaw. It was quite large on Koge and was not typically something that a woman should be seen wearing, but that was of little consequence. Often on the days that she was missing him more than normal, she would adorne a piece of his clothing, just to calm her. This scarf had always been her favorite, the fabric warm and soft against her skin.

“But you always fret about getting it dirty.” Nene continued with her worry. “I just don’t want something to happen to it, you’ll get so upset.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be inside most of the day, anyway.” Koge stopped at the entrance to an odd looking dome shaped building, one which was extremely uncommon for this areas architecture. Though, it matched the oddness of the owner, so it was nothing anyone gawked at for long. As she pushed open the door, a bell jingled excitedly, announcing her arrival.

“Ah, welcome in! Just a moment!”

The excited voice called from up the spiral staircase, which lead to a small library and storage of special herbs and liquids. Just as Koge and Nene stopped to wait patiently, and figure of a young man their age approached the intricate iron railing, grinning down at them with sharp pointed teeth. “Nene! And Koge! What a surprise!”

Koge gave a small nod in greeting, while Nene gave a shy wave. “Hello, Kiri. It’s good to see you.” Both women took a step back as Kirishima leapt over the railing, landing in front of them with polished ease. Koge gave a small shake of her head, raising an eyebrow at her energetic friend. “Eijirou, Sir Eguchi gets upset when you jump over the railing like that. Remember last time, you fell through the floor.” Koge pointed over towards a spot not too far away, where a brand new cellar door rested, locked and waiting use. Eijirou chuckled, ruffling his mess of straight red hair. “Aha, well, Sir had been talking about making a new entrance to the basement anyway! So it worked out!” A grin and a thumbs up followed his confident, if not ignorant, statement.

Nene giggled softly. “Still, you should be careful, Kiri. It would be bad if you did get hurt.” Kirishima’s grin softened to a smile, giving a playful bow. “As you wish! Though I’m tougher than you think.”

“If you start going off about being part dragon again, I’m going to fire you.”

A new voice filled the room, catching the full attention of the three young adults. A tall man came out from a back room that was behind the long counter, eyeing his employee with annoyance. His orange gaze was piercing, instantly making Kirishima laugh nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry, Sir! I swear I wasn’t! I was just gonna say that I, uh… I’ve been training?” His face flushed as Nene giggled, obviously embarrassed at being caught.

“Well, now that Koge is here, you can take a few hours off. Why don’t you take dear Nene out for a while, hm?” The older man smiled at them, leaning on the counter with gloved hands clasped. Nene’s cheeks flushed darker, though she looked down at Koge, worried about leaving her. Koge gave a small nod, nudging Nene in the arm gently. “Go on. You can buy some of the things we need at the house while you’re out. You have my money purse, just leave me enough for flowers.”

“O-okay… Thank you. I’ll be back soon.” Nene gave a small bow before leaving with Kirishima silently, though Koge could hear them laughing softly once outside. Looking back out of the window, she watched them vanish into the crowd, Nene taking Kirishima’s arm as he offered it to her. She must have been staring for a while, as the sound of her mentor’s voice startled her a bit.

“Come here, my dear.”

Tearing her eyes away from the window, Koge made her way over to the counter, placing her delicate hand into his large one as he offered it to her. “What’s wrong? Tell Seiji all about it.”

Koge sighed softly, looking up at Seijirou as she tried to think of what to say. Though, looking at this man didn’t exactly help her thoughts stay clear. There was something odd about him, something that she could never quite put her finger on, but it wasn’t exactly anything bad. The problem was that he was absolutely gorgeous, with pale flawless skin and a piercing gaze that typically left people speechless. Women that came into the apothecary would always swoon over him, his charming smile and alluring voice enough to make any woman leave their husband in an instant and vice versa. He could have anyone he wanted, and yet, he chose to be alone. It was odd to Koge, but that is just how he was, and he had been so good to her that she didn’t dare question his reasoning.

“It’s just… I had that same dream again this morning.” Koge touched the scarf around her shoulders tenderly. “I’m just struggling more lately.” Seijirou nodded, patting the top of her hand gently. “I see. Is that all?”

“No… when I woke up this morning, a fire had been started. Just like Katsuki used to do for me. And the window was open just a tad. Nene said it wasn’t her. I… don’t really know what to think.” Koge had kept her gaze down while speaking, feeling a bit timid about sharing these thoughts. Though, when she looked back up, she thought for a moment there was a different gleam in Seijirous eyes, one intense and even angry. Though, it was gone with a blink, his comforting smile only growing. “Oh darling, that is an odd occurrence! Perhaps it was simply a misunderstanding between the maids.”

“Probably.” Koges eyes moved down to his hands as his leather gloves squeaked a bit with his movement. Ever since she first met him, he had gloves on his hands, every single moment. She wasn’t sure why, and though she had asked a long time ago, he simply laughed it off and claimed that it was because of his fear of dirt and grime. Her hand was so pale against the worn black leather of his gloves, only adding to her thoughts that she looked sickly. Seijirou must have noticed as well, a finger tracing one of her visible veins.

“Not getting much sun, are you?” Seijirou released her hand, standing up straight. Koge gave a small shake of her head, making her way around the counter to the back room. “No, Sir. I tend to stay indoors unless I’m coming here or buying flowers.”

“You’re thinner, too! My dear, you know the first steps to feeling better are to take care of yourself.” Seijirou followed her, reaching up to ruffle his wavy black hair, which was parted over to one side with the other shaved down. The long side reached down to his shoulder, and though it was an odd haircut, it wasn’t all that odd for him. Koge sighed as she entered the room, closing her eyes while removing her small purse. “I understand that, Sir, but—“

She was interrupted by her own squeal, dropping her purse and covering her mouth in fright. Much to her embarrassment, she had been startled by another person in the room, something she wasn’t exactly used to seeing. Another man was sitting in a chair across the room, lax with his feet propped up on a table. Though, the instant her eyes landed on him, he tended, piercing blue glare keeping her frozen in her spot. Seijirou was the one to break the tension, chuckling softly as he walked inside.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Koge! I should have told you I had a guest.” He stopped beside her, bending down to pick up her purse for her. Koge glanced up to her teacher before back towards the stranger, watching him closely as he removed his feet from the table. “O-oh that’s okay, I was just… not paying attention.” After handing her purse back to her, Seijirou motioned for the other man to come over, though he also took a step forward himself. Koge thought this a bit odd, as if he were putting space between her and the newcomer, but she decided to stay quiet about it.

“Come here, Doey, it’s alright.”

Standing, the man slowly approached, keeping his eyes down as he ruffled his already messy orange hair. The closer he got, Koge could see that he was just as flawless as Seijirou, freckles sprinkled across his face and exposed shoulders, his tattered grey vest doing little to cover his torso and arms. It was odd to her that he couldn’t seem to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time, but she assumed that he was shy or possibly even put off by her own emotionally drained stare.

“Koge, darling, his is Dokuji. He’s going to be my new apprentice, learning with you. Though, he’ll end up being here at different times than you more often than not.” Seijirou patted Dokuji’s shoulder, making the younger mans face scrunch up a bit in annoyance. Koge nodded, giving a small bow in greeting. “It’s a pleasure.”

Although she had her head down and couldn’t see him, Koge could hear how hard Dokuji swallowed before he spoke, his voice a bit nervous and shaken. “The pleasure’s mine, uh… miss--?”

“Please just call me Koge. I prefer not to go by my last name.”

“Right,” Dokuji took in a deep breath, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m going to… Go deal with the, uh… Boxes.” He wormed his way around the two, quickly scurrying out of the room. Seijirou huffed, glaring after him as he placed his hands on his hips. “Excuse you!”

“Yeah, excuse me!” Dokuji called back, though he was already up the stairs and out of sight.

With a sigh, Seijiro headed over towards his desk, pulling open a drawer. “He’s not really used to this type of environment, so please forgive him. He’ll get better once he’s more comfortable around you.” Koge nodded, taking a piece of parchment as he handed it to her. “Of course, I understand. Are these the concoctions for today?”

With a nod, Seijirou sat down in his chair, pulling a large leather book towards him. “Yes. Do you remember them all?”

“If not I will look them up in the books before I make them. Hm… though most of these are sedatives?”

“Ah yes, we had an order from the hospital that we need to rush, so these are priority. Just don’t ingest anything or you’ll be sleeping on the floor.” Seijirou chuckled as he gave her a playful nudge in the arm, sending her off to work. “And take care of customers as they come in, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” Koge left the room without another word, sticking to her duties.

By the time Nene and Kirishima returned, Koge had finished all her work and was allowed to leave, Nene talking her ear off excitedly as they left. Though, the instant the door shut behind them, Seijirou sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Man… That poor girl--”

He was cut off by a sudden thud right under his feet, the wood floor shaking with the impact. With an annoyed click of his tongue, he headed to the cellar door that Kirishima had forced him to make, squatting down beside it. “What?!”

“Get down here you fucking kook! Now!”

“And why should I do that?”

“Come down here or I’m going up there, you fucking prick!”

Pulling out his keys from his pocket, Seijirou unlocked the padlock on the door, pulling it open and beginning his descent down the stairs. The cellar grew dark as the door slammed shut behind him, though he had no problems seeing, stepping out into the open area. Arms crossed over his chest, his gaze met with the crimson glare that came from across the room, the figure sitting with his back against the wall.

“What do you want? I’m busy trying to run a business.”

“I want you to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing. Why would you let her near that fucking creep, he’s not ready!”

“And you think you are? I have to lock you in a damn cellar just to keep an eye on you. What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” Seijirou snapped back, walking closer as he pointed up towards the ceiling. “You damn idiot! You think it was smart to go to her this morning?! You think your little gesture was sweet?”

The confronting man before Seijirou stood, though he wasn’t given a chance to speak. “She needs to think you’re dead! Now all she has on her mind again is you, all because you decided a visit would be smart. It wasn’t, Katsuki. You’ll be lucky if Our Lady doesn’t rip you to shreds because you did that.”

“She can go choke on a dick, it’s not like I wanted this--” Bakugou was interrupted by his own choked scream as Seijirou snatched him by the neck, slamming him up against the wood wall with nearly enough force to send him through it. Ignoring the feeling of Bakugou’s claws digging into his arm, Seijirou leaned in closer, his glare and voice dark enough to send anyone running. “Next time you say something like that about Our Lady, I’ll be the one to rip you apart. I’ve known you and Koge for years, and what’s happened to you both breaks my heart. But I won’t stand for your tough guy rebellious bullshit.”

Releasing him, Seijirou backed away, leaving Bakugou to sit back down and clutch his throat. “If you love her, Katsuki. You’ll stay away. This will be the last time I allow you into the town during the day.”

With a scoff, Bakugou leaned back against the wall, too physically weak from hunger to fight back. “Go fuck yourself. Or get your little pet to do it for you, I don’t care. You don’t know what’s best for her.”

“I do know that she’s been mourning your loss for too long. You can watch her and protect her all you want, but you have to become nothing but a memory. Now get control of yourself. We’re leaving soon, and you’re eating tonight, whether you like it or not.” Seijirou turned and began his way out of the cellar, not bothering to take another look at the broken man behind him. “Accept what you are and get over it. The faster you do that, the less painful the rest of eternity will be.”

Once again left alone, Bakugou leaned his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in trembling hands. He was so hungry and so distraught, the scent of every human that had entered the store that day clinging to his senses, like he was in a pit of endless flesh. Koge’s, however, was the most prominent, so strong that he could have sworn he could taste her on his tongue. How badly he wanted to rip into her, to sink his teeth into her skin and drain her of life was overwhelming. Maybe Seijirou had been right, that his actions that day had been a huge mistake.

Because now, he found himself wanting Koge more than he ever had in his entire life, and he couldn’t have her. He wished desperately to change what had happened, to wake up and realize this entire ordeal was nothing but a crazy nightmare.

But he knew he never would.

[faemoria-arch]

@maenadian | | Boss Battle Music Am I - Emi Evans

larxene idk how best to put this . . . but if you seriously try and fight tooth again . . . she’s going to break you in half .

But no okay , I think this song will seem kind of weird if you listen to it without reading this , but I did actually have a strong idea of what I wanted to use once I really took a moment to think about it , and unfortunately it means this is going to be maybe the longest or second-longest explanation out of all of these ? But here we go : Larx already fought Tooth once with at least some hope or expectation that she was going to die . At least to the point of surprise when she realized she had not . And given what Tooth is like in this verse I feel like that was a fair assumption for her to make . Tooth has a much higher bar for when she feels like something is a threat that needs to be taken seriously , but she still treats those threats that are taken seriously with a very aggressive intent to get rid of them , just as my main verse . It’s just that in this verse she’s *larxene voice* über powerful , so it doesn’t happen as often .

The thing is , Tooth isn’t ignorant to the type of person Larxene is . She knows they’re sadistic , and violent , and that they don’t like losing control . She also understands however , that Larxene does not typically act that way towards Toothiana because she makes Larx feel different from what she’s used to , to an extent great enough to make her slow down for more than five seconds . I’m not saying Tooth thinks she can turn Larxene into a ‘good’ person . But she might be able to teach her to do literally anything for any reason besides destruction and self-destruction . I mean , okay she probably wants to turn Larx into a better person . She wouldn’t be hanging out with a woman who treated a young child like a punching bag if she didn’t think there was even a chance Larx could ever be a person who... doesn’t .... do that maybe , even if it’s not morals holding her back from it ? But she’s not expecting her to go around helping kids up after they fall on the ground and giving them ice cream either . She really just wants Larxene to reach a point where she finds any actual solace in life , and doesn’t merely settle for the temporary feeling of thinking she’s in control by destroying everything including herself . As per the common trend of Tooth’s interactions with former Organization XIII members in this verse , she wants to inspire emotional intelligence ; The ability to recognize and understand one’s emotions without it feeling so overwhelming they just try to detrimentally block them out instead .

Because Tooth’s been there . And she’s been partially there and partially not . Lil Tooth wanted to fight everything for the satisfaction of breaking anything she could break , and the relief of finally breaking on something that she couldn’t . Older Tooth is certainly more constructive , she’s ‘ good ’ , but she’s still an angry and violent person . Those negative traits from her youth never completely died ; She still has self-destructive habits , and a low-breaking point for lashing out at the feeling of losing control of something . She’s vengeful . She takes delight in the suffering of those she decides deserves it . Tooth is more than capable of being cruel , and it isn’t that difficult to bring it out of her as far as what you imagine from a ‘heroic’ character . She just also learned to accept having any feeling besides seething hatred and a desire to die .

So ‘ Mem , ’ you ask , ‘ what does any of this have to do with what you picked for their boss battle music ’ , and I’m happy you did because I want to stop rambling about nothing as much as you want me to .

This is the only song I picked for this meme today ( so far ) that has English lyrics ,  ( They’re pretty cheezy tbh but I don’t care . I like them , we’re playing pretend on the internet , everything is cheezy , i’m not changing my mind . ) as I’m not usually so into anything that might be considered ‘pop’ like for my game OSTs unless the game’s really leaning into that completely , but there are always exceptions . I didn’t pick it because the lyrics fit either Larxene or Tooth individually either , but because I feel like they make for an interesting ‘conversation’ being had between two characters who have felt the same way before . As though Tooth is finishing Larxene’s sentences because she knows what she’s thinking all too well . For example :

Tooth : Surrender this moment Larxene : I delight in this chaos Tooth : Gently wait , surrender this moment Both : For there's nowhere to hide from this passion inside engulfing me Larxene doubts that Tooth knows anything about the extent of hate she has both faced and felt herself , but she is Very Wrong™ . This goes beyond empathy and , despite Larxene’s assumption in our current thread , and Toothiana’s observation that she thinks Larxene looks pathetic , it’s also not pity . It’s sympathy . Which is coincidentally the only thing that’s going to keep Tooth from crushing Larxene into dust the next time she earnestly raises a hand towards her .

ANYWAYS besides the lyrics I also , ofc , wanted to pick a song that ‘felt’ right in the emotion it conveys through the melody alone . I think this... does that almost a little too straight-forwardly lol . It’s literally starts as a calming music with static and spark sounds scattered in . It builds into an extremely simple electronic beat like a racing pulse       there’s certainly no fight between these two that isn’t going to be almost always fast paced . The echo of dripping water that sounds almost dream-like goes perfectly well with the ‘pacifying’ effect Tooth has on Larxene . It would probably work perfectly fine without the lyrics entirely . . . except that it’s so simple playing it for nearly 7 minutes would be boring .

But anyways , here’s Larxene’s boss battle against Tooth where she gets to at least ‘ win ’ so as to not be dead in the end .

[bahamastrro]

𝕮𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖆 (𝕬 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖇𝖞 𝕷𝖏 𝕲𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖟 & 𝕹𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕹𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖔)

     Once in a tiny village there lived a couple. Their love for each other grow and soon gave birth to a cute little baby. They named her Celia.

     Time passed by and Celia grown and become a kid. While her mother is brushing the hair of her precious little daughter in front of a mirror. Her mother notice something, she looked closely to the mirror and then looked back to Celia’s face. Her mother were in shock to see that Celia amongst others have a tiny nose. Only Celia have a tiny nose in their village.

     Time passed and Celia grow older and reached the age of 13 years old. having a tiny nose amongst others is more clearly to see. Whenever she goes outside to play, kids in their village rejects her and then says, “We don’t want to play with you, you are different from us, you have a tiny nose, you’re ugly”.

      After hearing what they said, Celia rushed home and cried and ask herself, “Why am I ugly?”, “Why do I have such a tiny nose?”,  “Why am I different?”.

     Her mother heard what Celia said and rushed to comfort her asking, “What happened my dear?”. “Mother why am I different?, you and father have a normal nose, why am I different?” she replied.  “There is nothing to worry about it my dear you’re beautiful as you are.” She replied. “Here have this necklace, it will serve as sign of how beautiful you are Celia.” Said her mother.

     A minute after, Celia stopped crying and hugged her mother tight. Because other kids does not want to play with her, Celia think of something to do so that she can amuse herself. She tried to learn on how to build furniture’s like her father. Not like typical other girls her age do who is busy making themselves ready to become a beautiful young adult. As time passed by. Celia became good at making furniture’s such as tables and chairs. Along with her father, they roam around the village to sell their beautiful crafts. “This chair is well-made.” A man said. “Ohh! Thank you. That chair is made from a high-grade oak tree, that’s quite a high quality chair.” Replied her father. “I can tell it is.” The man replied.

     While the people are looking at their crafts. Something caught their attention at the back of their horsed wagon. It is a young lady covering her face. “Why are you covering your face?” a lady asked. “It is nothing, just don’t mind me and look at our glamorous crafts. Isn’t it beautiful?” Celia replied. “Indeed it is. But how can we trust buying someone’s crafts if we cannot see their faces?” The lady replied. “But the most important thing here is our crafts that were selling isn’t it?” Celia Replied. “Yes it is. But we cannot trust buying your crafts if you’re hiding your face from us.” The lady replied. “Show us your face so that we will not worry buying from you.” said a man.

     Celia looked at her father straight to its eyes. Trying to tell him “can we please go now” by just looking at him. Her father immediately know what were Celia’s eyes trying to say and said to the people. “Perhaps some other time, I’ll come back here again”.

     When her father and Celia arrived home. Celia immediately go to her room and locked herself. Celia’s father goes straight to his wife and tells her what happened.  “I think we should make a way to end her suffering.” Her father said. “Then what should we do?” her mother ask. “Go talk to her. Tell her not to feel different anymore. Tell her its normal there is nothing wrong about it.” Replied her father. “But I already did that before and it didn’t work.” Her mother replied.

     Little did they know Celia heard that they are arguing.  “NEIGHHH…!!!”  They heard the loud sound their horse made as it runs as fast as thunder.  “I think she heard us.” Said her father. “What should we do?” her mother asked. “Just let her darling. Let her wonder, think, and find herself.” Said her father. “But what if she’ll not come back?” asked her mother. “She will. I know she will. Have faith on you daughter.” Said her father.

     Celia go as far as she can while riding their horse. After a long continuous run. She noticed that their horse is tired. Luckily they get to a place where there are a lot of grasses. While letting the horse feed on grasses and giving it a good rest, Celia noticed a small water falls hiding in the middle of the forest. She got amaze by its dazzling crystal clear water. She took off all of her cloths and then dived in. the water is cold and refreshing. Celia then dip all her body in to feel the waters calmness and think. Without knowing a guy is hiding from the bush is watching her. When Celia is about to finish the guy hides carefully so that Celia won’t notice her.

     After Celia wore her cloths and leave. The guy noticed that Celia left her necklace. He grabbed it and tried to give it back to Celia but she did not catch Celia.

     While Celia is riding their horse. A thought of her mother comes up to her mind. She then grabbed the necklace her mother gave to her but in her surprise the necklace is gone. She then immediately turned back to find the necklace. While finding the necklace she didn’t notice that she got back to their village already. Couple of men tried to harass her thinking she’s from another village. But when the men’s about to approach her they receive a flying kick from a tall, well-built, handsome man. “It’s the duke’s son” a lady shouted. All the girls immediately go in their direction. Loud shouting from every direction is heard. After getting circled by the villages people the disrespectful group of man swiftly run away. All the girls were rooting for the duke’s son. But only Celia got his attention. Celia thank the duke’s son without looking at his face thinking it will also reject her because her veil got off her face. But the duke’s son held her face up. “It’s Celia and her tiny nose” a lady shouted. “Such lucky ugly women, he got save by the duke’s son” said another women. And all the village people laugh.

     Celia, because of shame run to their home. “Run like what you always do, ugly Celia”. The village people then again laugh. The duke look at Celia’s necklace that he is about to give to Celia back. “Such a unique beautiful lady” he murmured.

     The lady who put Celia into shame approached the duke’s son thinking it would love to marry her. “She is the most beautiful lady in the village your highness. Take her as your bride.” Said the village people. “Unlike that ugly Celia who’s not worth to be your bride.” Said the lady’s friend. The people all laugh then again. But the duke’s son got angry and shouted “You’re all monsters, how dare you label such beautiful lady ugly.”

     After Celia arrived to their house. She immediately ask for forgiveness to her mother and father. Especially to her mother for losing the necklace that is given to her.

     Celia while again doing the thing she loved, making furniture’s. Cannot focus on doing it because she is still affected by what the village people said. After so many years she just can’t accept why she is different.

     While still trying to amuse herself. A knock on the door distracted the silence. “Does the lady wearing a veil live here?”. Asked the duke’s son. “Yes.” Her mother replied.

     Her mother then called Celia. When Celia got there she was surprised that the duke’s son was there. “Why are you here?” she asked. “I was looking for you” replied he. When Celia was about to leave the duke’s son get the necklace from his pocket and showed it to her. “Is this yours?” he asked. “Yes! it’s my necklace” replied she. Then Celia immediately grabbed the necklace from his hand but he move his hand out of Celia’s reach. “You can’t just get it that easily milady.” He said. “You need to marry me.” Celia in shock, slapped the duke’s son thinking it is just making fun of her. “But I’m serious” he said. “How can you afford to marry someone different like me?” the duke’s son then moved closer to her. Wore off her veil and said. “That is why you amongst others is the one I’m going to marry. Because you are different, you’re unique, you’re someone I’m finding for a long time.” Celia burst into tears after hearing those words. Thinking no one would love her. “You’re being different is what makes you, you milady. That is why I love you.” he said. “You’re like a rose in a dessert that is full of succulents.” He added. Celia after a long time smiled for getting a compliment. She then accepted the duke’s son’s invitation of marriage. Never looked down again and never again wore a veil to cover her face. And live a happy life.

[willowgust]

Emotional Characteristics

Colpeia Beamgully

How does the character deal with anger: It’s far-fetched for Colpeia to reach true anger, though she is vulnerable to frustration. She usually doesn’t repress it for long. Rather, she lets it stream out or stows it for later. How she deals with it depends on the social situation. If she thinks it’s unwise to openly express it (at least for the moment), she’ll swallow and keep a polite poker face until she can let out an “UUUUGH!” in private. If there aren’t pricey consequences, she’ll raise her voice with something pointed, like blunt advice or a sharp implicating remark, at a slowed pace for aggravated emphasis. Once the worst of it is out, she’ll calm down with fragrant tea, a hot candlelit bath, or anything else indulgent. True anger is a different story, however. When she’s furious, she’ll actually swear. Her breathy voice will blare at the top of her lungs. Sometimes she’ll get a bit animated with her arms. (At this stage she looks like a bronzed Kermit the Frog.)

With sadness: A grim frown and silence, if it’s mild. On occasion she’ll talk it out with a good friend, though she usually writes or speaks through her feelings in private. Intense sadness causes her to stop moving. Colpeia looks forward to a good run, but anything like self pity, grief, or general despondence will immobilize her into a numb, pale lipped, thousand mile stare. She’ll huddle over tea or gaze emptily at something, sometimes for an hour or more, waiting for her mind to wrap around her trouble. The ceiling, the ocean, that chapped piece of paint on the wall - almost anything. For some reason it helps to appreciate the fine details of everyday objects, the way some photographers do. A sense of hope will eventually tug her out of the pit and bring her to a state of wistfulness. She’ll remain pensive until she can find something helpful from the experience to walk away with.

With conflict: Internal conflict is dealt similarly to sadness and maybe anger, but with an added layer. Colpeia is a mathematician. She’s a problem solver. That is how she approaches life. After her emotions finish raging, she tries to root out the cause of the conflict. Sometimes she’ll list what she knows on paper to draw a conclusion that satisfies her. External conflict is different, though. There is still a strong element of problem solving, but it’s used to find a compromising resolution. She’ll use charm, wiles, perhaps even flirtation. Although she’s not afraid of conflict for the sake of sincerity and healthy relationships, that is, being honest even if it causes discomfort, she prefers keeping the peace. Colpeia isn’t a fighter if she doesn’t have to be. Physical conflict is a no-go if she can help it. She’ll avoid this as much as possible.

With change: Colpeia struggles with some changes more than others, but she believes that life is about growing and evolving. Positive change still means she has to say goodbye to something. She’ll likely relish what she’s about to lose before it’s gone, while embracing what’s new. The same generally goes for a neutral change. A painful shift in her life will be far more difficult. She cares about wisdom and really living, but she’s also self-indulgent and a bit vain. To lose something good and gain something she doesn’t want, she’ll have to grieve. In the end she’ll try to see it from another perspective because she’ll realize she has no choice.

What frightens your character:  What doesn’t? Colpeia’s battle fuel is fear. She may seem serene and mentor-like on the outside, but inside she’s a terrified hot mess who’ll jump at a quill landing on the floor. A lot changed after she witnessed a graphic shark attack she could do nothing about. She concluded that it’s delusional to believe elves are outside the food chain and adopted the mentality of prey. Anything larger than a small dog will make her uneasy. Colpeia also assumed a great deal of guilt for “failing to save” the victim. She might say that she helps people because it’s the right thing to do, and she’s not wrong about being protectively altruistic. But it’s not the whole truth. There’s a self-serving factor in it. Her frenzied, desperate attempts to rescue people out of danger is her way of trying to reconcile that part of her past she hasn’t completely resolved and doesn’t know how to. She’s more or less aware of what’s really going on in her head when she’s calm, but may deny it in the moment. So her biggest fears are failing to protect or rescue people, water you can’t see through, and sharks. The mere mention of sharks chills her spine. (Despite understanding that people can be dangerous, she’s far more afraid of beasts. Most sentient creatures can be reasoned with if your tongue is silvery enough. Beasts cannot.)

Is your character judgmental of others: Yes and no. On one hand Colpeia is one of the most unassuming people you’ll likely ever meet. It helped that she was raised by traders and negotiators. Her empathy and (sometimes undeserved) bias towards person-kind makes her view strangers as possible friends she hasn’t met yet. Though she’s not quite naive enough to discount malice or deceit, her overall outlook on people is a lens hinted too strongly with rosy colors. In her mind, unless it’s something like an Old God or demon, true evil is rare. A toxic or even dangerous person is simply someone who’s suffering and has lost their way. (If she’s dealing with a real asshole this may just be something she’s trying to convince herself, to preserve her core belief that most people are ultimately good.) She will, however, try to analyze those she meets. If they’re potential allies or enemies, she’ll note the way they move, physical quirks, and any base psychology she can pick up on. If they’re friends or people she wants to help, she’ll try to understand who and where they are. Otherwise she has no right to offer guidance even if it’s welcome.

Is your character generous or stingy:  Generous, and unafraid to openly show it.

Is your character generally polite or rude:  Extremely polite. Not uptight necessarily, but polite. Nothing grates Colpeia more than a lack of courtesy and respect. Outright rudeness is a dishonor to her. Even when she insults or taunts someone, there’s a biting sense of courteous charm in it. She would have to be beyond livid to say something genuinely rude.

Optimistic or Pessimistic: Often a realist at heart, but Colpeia is slightly more of an optimist.

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert, hands down.

Daredevil or Cautious: Yes. Both. A lot. Typically Colpeia is cautious. She’s cunning, wary to a feral level, and calculating. But when she sees someone in danger, she turns stupid. Without thinking she’ll throw her logic out the window and wildly throw herself into the fray.

Logical or Emotional: Both. She’s soulful, but her approaches to life are logical. Colpeia has a step-by-step, problem-solution oriented approach to most things.

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat:  Methodical and neat. You need look no further than her house. It’s not only clean and logically put together, but posh. She’s tidy with a vibrant fashion flare.

Would they rather be working or relaxing:  If it feels like work she’d rather be relaxing! Thankfully there are times when work feels meditative. 

Tagged by: @unabashedrebel - thanks dude. C:

Tagging: @aranyaphoenix @halenvar @andijelly @kurel-andiel @darnath @ryderflynn @raenaith @firemagicked @felonous @velerodra --You know what? If you see this, you’re tagged. Go. :D

[jfleurcannon]

oh fuck. a hysterectomy story.

just so i don't have to go through explaining. please visit links and read up if you are interested, i simplified it AF and wiki'd the source, otherwise, this is legit not the place for you. i talk about things, life, whatnot, and my life is fucking bullshit sometimes.

endometriosis

adenomysosis

fibromyalgia - i'm not even gonna get into this one. because, as the doctor who diagnosed me said, 'not many people believe in this one, so maybe don't say that you have it out loud.' but chalk that guy up for chronic musculoskeletal & joint pain in my wrists, arms, shoulders, back, butt, and knees. but 🤫.

i'm sure y'all know wtf depression and anxiety are, i see those #bellletstalk tags. it's been with me for years, since i guess the chronic pain started. i got my period and wondered why the fuck i was the only one who got sick, like sick. fainting, knocking over a mannequin display at the eddie bauer at fairview mall (you're welcome, sisters), passing out at school and having to be carried out by julie (thank you, sister), missing so many activities and things i wanted to do but couldn't. having 'jenn's always sick anyways' thrown in my face by a childhood friend, being made to feel bad about pain and not wanting to be in the mood, having to cancel plans last minute because of pending pain, side effects from meds i'm taking that make me sick, but not quite as sick as the original problem - so i deal. like i deal with it all. [like a warrior. i have held my pain like the damn death star. my uterus is the death star. except that time i carried and birthed a baby, and then it was fucking AWESOME!] typically it's bottom shelf paper bag internalized. and for years my solution was to therapy it out, or shove the feels down hard so i developed massive GI issues, or maybe that is the endo, who the fuck knows. fast forward years of therapy and a shit ton of medication and three suicide attempts, the final one being in 2007. i was hospitalized for the final attempt at sunnybrook's mental health ward. the F ward, i shit you not. i felt like girl intrurrupted, but there was no winona or angelina. there was a pam and a joan. no padded room, but i couldn't leave to go outside for the first week. that was fucked up.

pain is pain, and although i am a fan of ja-rule, pain has never equaled love to me. it has only left me with an overwhelming hate for parts of my life, that were always plagued by illness, pain, and brewing depressive state. i would get sick for long, long periods of time and there would be no reason for it. had i known then what i had (endo, adeno, fibro, MFGT's) it would have made sense. two of the three are auto-immune diseases. i get a cold, and i really get it. i lose my voice, and it's gone for months.

the only fast thing i've done is labour and delivery. it might seem strange to put the birth of my child in the pain category, however the story will explain why in a mo. i arrived at the hospital at 10am at 2cm dilated, upon exam by a nurse i pushed and my water broke, i was put in a wheelchair and brought to wait for a L&D room, outside the exam room and in the tiny hallway, there my insides tore open, quite literally, nerve damage, and rapid labour. i screamed and screamed and was told to wait while they got things ready. i mean. i thought i was dying. why was this happening so fast? my husband came back up as i was being brought into the room (i think, some details are fuzzy). i was examined by a doctor and was at 10cm. it hadn't been more than 10 minutes since i had arrived. i remember things moving too quickly for me and i was very panicked that something was wrong. i remember being told the boy's heartbeat was becoming compromised and we needed to get him out. options included a C-section, forceps, or the vacuum. all terrified me as i literally was without ANY pain management. we opted for the vacuum and they offered me laughing gas as a super sad knife-in-the-back compromise. i took it, but the hell? AT THAT VERY MOMENT I WANTED THE SWEET, SWEET NECTAR OF THE ALL POWERFUL EPIDURAL! four pushes with the vacuum on and the boy was born, at 10:35am. in 35 minutes i arrived at the hospital had my baby, like whatevs, and held him while being stitched up. naturally there were stitches. i can't even with that pain. OMG. people say you won't remember the labour pain and that 'it'll just go away when you see your perfect baby', you know what? they lied to your face, or they had an epidural, or they didn't experience rapid labour. 2-10 in 5 minutes. they did not teach me that in L&D class. i wanted ice chips, and the tub, and the playlist of music, and maybe a pelvic roll or two on the ball, but no, miles wanted his entrance to be dramatic and fast and it was nothing less than that.

any and all of the things i've battled have stayed with me like wearing a cloak, all day everyday i feel pain, whether it's physical, mental, emotional, or otherwise, i feel it. i can't see it but i fucking feel it. with diagnosis always come the waiting game of endless specialists, tests, interventions by way of oral medication, physical therapy, walking epidurals, suppositories in my ass or vag, chiropractor visits, along with visits to acupuncture, massage, GP, GYNE, and psychologists.

after a thirty year battle, and almost one year of keeping this in my drafts folder, i finally have felt an end to my endometriosis and adenomyosis pain. a hysterectomy and final excision of endo from nerve clusters fused together because of it, i can breathe. i can breathe clearly and without a constant fear of nausea, hot flashes, bizarre mood swings because of the menopausal state the IUD was causing, and chronic pelvic/back/low abdomen/bowel pain. i still have a 44 year old body and permanent nerve damage from rapid labour and negligence from a past surgeon, but holy hot hell it's nice to not want to punch people in the face for asking you how you feel. i know that's not a normal reaction to that question. i get that. however, as someone who has suffered from chronic pain her whole adult life, it is the hardest question to answer honestly. how you feel sometimes is like shit, or crap, or a god damn mess, or you just don't want to talk, especially to that person but you can't say it. so you answer, 'fine', 'great', or 'living the dream'. is the honest answer the best answer? it may not be, but it's the one with the least amount of follow up questions or lengthy conversation to follow. i love things, and flowers, and coffee, and white wine, and my man friend, and my kid, and my family, and a handful of others - but for the most part i would honestly prefer not to talk to anyone about anything. it's all the same conversation anyway. and i'm tired. tired of listening. tired of talking/hearing my own voice. tired of noise. in need of quiet and calm. my one year surgery anniversary is coming up and i'm looking forward to it. i have never looked forward to a post surgery anything because those have always led to more surgeries. but the doctor from brazil with the 'small hands' did the job this time. removed the death star and its accompanying bullshit organs (tubes and cervix) and we are good to go now. she works again, without pain 😉

surgeries for endometriosis & adenomyosis

2006 - laser laparoscopic discovery of endo

2009 - stage IV endo excision via laparoscopy

2015 - laser laparoscopic removal of endo & appendectomy

2016 - endo excision via laparoscopy

2019 - full hysterectomy (minus ovaries) and extensive endo excision on nerve clusters fused together

[alwaysbemymaybe-phff]

Chapter 18

Good Morning Bones

“Security had already rid of the press.” Prince Seeiso assured while him and Prince Harry talked inside his office.

 Prince Harry started talking about further developments needed to be done to Sentebale when they were cut off by one of the nurses from the clinic knocking on the door. “Ah, dear Bona.” Prince Seeiso greeted with a smile but it is quickly wiped off his face when he took a read on Bona’s expression. “What is it?”

 Bona, the nurse, came in the room giving Prince Harry a brief curtsy. “Something happened in the clinic.”

 “What is it?” Prince Seeiso repeated wanting the nurse to be more precise.

 The nurse gave out a huge breath, “Doctor Isabella fainted- doctor Mike is currently trying to do CPR.”

It’s not because of his duty- or his need to protect everyone around him but Harry bolted out of the office before the nurse can continue. He ran. He ran as fast as he could bumping on a few people and almost tripping on a step- he couldn’t care less if there are still photographers lurking around. He needed to get to her. When he reached the clinic, one of the nurses quickly pointed to where Bella is without question. He came inside one of the make-shift rooms and saw Bella sitting on the gurney popping pills inside her mouth before accepting the water Mike is holding out for her. He can hear Doctor Mike whisper and asking repeatedly if Bella is feeling better or if anything still hurting.

 Silently, he studied her. Bella’s hand shook as she took a drink from the bottle while the other one rested on top of her chest clutching her white shirt tightly. Her face is unusually pale- sickly pale. And for a while, he wondered if he had missed something about her.

 Mike noticed Harry by the door, “Your Royal Highness.” He greeted and walked over to the prince.

 “What happened?” Prince Harry asked wanting so much to go near Bella and hug her.

 Noticing the look Harry is giving Bella, Mike gave the prince a smile and lied, “She was just stressed out. She was hounded by the press on the way here.”

 And still, Harry tried to catch Bella’s eye to no avail. He wanted to hear her talk but all he could see coming out of her mouth are shallow breaths. Something is wrong. He thought before passing by Mike and making his way towards Bella. “Are you alright?” he asked her directly and she couldn’t look at him when she nodded- she couldn’t even utter a ‘yes’.

 “I believe it would be best if we give her space.” Mike said from behind Harry.

 Prince Harry made his way back towards the main headquarters slowly- his mind in a havoc. It’s not typical Bella to act like that- he had never seen Bella look that sickly pale- or it’s not normal for a person who just fainted due to stress to act like her heart is hurting inside her chest. And inside his head, he raked upon memories he has with Bella trying to find a possible explanation until he started remembering her oddities.

 Suddenly, memories flooded his mind. He remembered how he noticed her sit on a rock catching her breath when they climbed up the mountains on her first time in Sentebale then into the time when she suddenly halted from running in Thailand- her breath catching up to her throat and then her telling him that she hadn’t done her cardio in a while. But the most recent memory he had is the pills on her table.

 She’s sick? He thought stopping in the middle of a hallway inside the headquarters. No. She can’t be. But still, no matter how hard he denies it, he couldn’t shake the thought off. He quickly went back to his own bedroom and grabbed his phone from the top of his dresser and dialing Troy’s number.

 “Your Royal Highness?” Troy answered from the other end of the line.

 “I need you to do something for me.” Harry told Troy straightaway and he didn’t let his secretary say anything else before saying, “I need you to look at Bella’s medical file for me.”

 “I don’t have that with me nor can I obtain that without breaking a lot of rules, Your Royal Highness.”

 “Just do it!”

 Mike walked Bella back to her room after she had settled. Both are quiet as they walked side by side, both too shocked of the events moments ago to even talk. “Are you ok?” Bella suddenly asked Mike and she tilted her head up to look at Mike. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

 “Don’t be silly.” Mike said shaking his head. “I’m just glad you didn’t die in my care.”

 Bella smiled, “I didn’t.” she said before breathing in deeply.

 “I think you should consider surgery.” Mike then said seriously stopping and grabbing Bella’s arm softly making her stop as well. “It’s just not right..” he trailed off.

 “Which is?”

 “This. You being sick. You dying. I cannot find anything right about it.” He shook his head. “You’re like a sister to me, Bella. Maybe the surgery will work- maybe you get the 40% and live longer. As a doctor, don’t you have faith on that 40%?”

 But it’s not just that. As a doctor, Bella trusts other doctors completely. She knows that Doctor West will do everything in his power for her to survive the surgery. But, there are things in life that cannot be controlled. She’s scared of her own body. She doesn’t know if her body can handle the surgery. There’s a 60% chance of her not waking up from the surgery or her even dying during surgery.

 It’s not as if you have something to lose. She thought that late afternoon as she sat in her room staring at the letter of apology that she’s about to give Prince Seeiso. Bella intended on going home the next morning; she figured that Sentebale had been too much for her the past days and that she needs to go home and have a talk with her parents. She realized that she needed people to support her- to help her through it.

 Finally, she signed the bottom of the paper with her name and signature. It’s not as if Harry would mind  if I leave. She thought standing up from her seat and making her way towards Prince Seeiso’s office.

 Early the next morning, Harry is woken up by the incessant ringing of his phone. He groaned as he looked at the screen wishing that it’s not Meghan calling him so early in the morning. “Troy.” He answered his phone groggily.

 “I have the information you asked for.”

 Harry sat up on his bed, swinging his feet to the floor. “What is it?” he asked and he heard his secretary sigh from the other end of the line. “Troy?”

 “Doctor Clarke is suffering from a heart condition called Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy.” Troy said slowly and Harry, unaware of such sickness, remained quiet. “Sir?”

 “It’s curable, right? She’ll be fine?” he asked finally and, this time, his secretary became quiet. “Troy.”

 Troy sighed, “It’s a severe case.” He said reluctantly and Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach and his world slowed as Troy continued. “She’s dying.”

 “How did she-” Harry stopped what he’s about to say.

 “As I had obtained from Doctor Gerard Clarke last night; her trip to San Diego was to meet her doctor.” Troy started. “Her hospitalization after your trip to Thailand was because she had an attack at her home. She faints when she has an attack- well, technically, her heart stops for seconds causing for her to lose consciousness. They had been able to control it but attacks can sometimes lead to death if not prevented.”

 Harry couldn’t speak nor could he react. It felt like his soul was sucked out of his body as everything suddenly fell into place- how her oddness at times are suddenly not odd, how her confusing words of living life to the fullest before she dies is not just another metaphor but a reality, and how she wanted to get things off her bucket list done. He let out a huge breath and hangs up his phone without saying another word to Troy.

 She’s dying. He thought and, still, his mind couldn’t process it.

 “FUCK!” he yelled angrily and both his hands shot up and grabbed his hair- gripping it- his breathing heavy as he felt like his world is crashing down around him.

 “You and I, we’re not going to work.” Her voice replayed inside his head as he walked his way towards Bella’s clinic. “Meghan will be there for you through thick and thin. She’ll stay beside you and live happily for a long time. I can’t promise you the same.” And suddenly, he knew why she didn’t want him to break up with Meghan. He realized why she believed that she couldn’t be with him and why it won’t work out or why she didn’t want to even try.

 When he got inside the clinic, the nurses looked at him confused but he didn’t care. Harry trudged towards what he knew as Bella’s space and when he arrived, he saw her table cleared out. It was obvious that she’s not in the clinic and Harry thought that maybe she’s still in her room back at the headquarters but he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulders- he turned and saw Doctor Mike with a smile on his face.

 “Your Royal Highness.” Doctor Mike greeted Harry. “What can I do for you?”

 “Where is she?” the prince asked and Doctor Mike sighed.

 Harry watched as the doctor closed the door of Bella’s supposed clinic.

 “She left for England this early morning.” Mike answered Harry’s question. Both men silently stood inside the room looking at each other thinking of various things. Harry thought of the reason why Bella would leave so abruptly while Mike studied Harry’s stance carefully.

 Harry then blinked and asked, “Did you know? About her being sick?”

 And it struck Mike like a lightning. How did he know? He asked himself keeping his mouth shut but he saw the determination written across Harry’s face. Sighing, he nodded making Harry give out a huge breath. “I’ve only known a day ago.”

 The prince sat down on the chair by Bella’s old table breathing in and out deeply- trying to calm himself. “How did you not know sooner? You two are together..” he trailed off and then he whimpered shaking his head. “You two pretended that you were together.” He said in realization and he watched Mike give him a painful smile and a nod. Harry felt helpless; he felt utterly stupid that he hadn’t realized it sooner. How he didn’t notice the signs- her signs. And I retaliated to their supposed relationship by asking to marry Meghan. He thought. You hurt her too much, Harry.

 Mike watched the prince try to remain collected. He watched the realization on his face turn into pain multiple times and he sighed, feeling sad. The two are like a modern Romeo and Juliet. He thought sullenly.

 “I need to talk to her.” Harry then stood mumbling under his breath. “I need to see her.”

 “Harry, please.” Mike pleaded touching Harry’s shoulder and the prince looked at him- teary eyes wide. “Let her go.” He whispered and as much as he knows that Bella and Harry loved each other too much- he knows that Harry’s current situation is going to be too much for Bella. “You just got engaged.. The press will kill Bella to a point. Please don’t drag her into your mess.”

 And then, Harry remembered the effects of what chasing Bella and suddenly breaking up with Meghan would bring. The press, the public, and his family are all going to disagree and paint Bella as a bad woman who stole him away from Meghan. He shrugged off Mike’s hand off his shoulder and stormed past him.

 I need to protect her.