#she needs to gain a little bit more weight first but otherwise she's ready to be de-bitted

[vox-off]

cons of being wretched and miserable on the couch: self explanatory, i think

pros of being wretched and miserable on the couch: couch buddy

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Training Day

AMHL – Masterlist

WARNINGS: PTSD, domestic violence & abuse, panic attack, anxiety 

“I feel like you’re torturing me now,” Y/N groaned as she put the bar back down on the bench press.

Dick chuckled. “You gotta gain some strength before I teach you, otherwise you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“You callin’ me fat, Grayson?”

His eyes grew three sizes and his jaw dropped in shock. “No, no, no, no, no. I would never!”

Then he jumped into a tangent about how beautiful he was and he loved her for how she looked and never wanted her to change, unless that’s what she wanted. And it went on and on and on.

Y/N finally took pity on him and started laughing.

“Dick, I’m just fucking with you.”

He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “That was cruel.”

But she only laughed more.

“10 pushups for that,” he demanded.

Her jaw dropped. “Noooo!”

“Yeah. Come on.”

She did as he instructed, knowing she did kind of deserve it.

Afterward, he led her to the training mats. They had done weight training for about 30 minutes or so, and Dick insisted that was going to be a big part of all this. He was right: some of the self-defense moves would only hurt her if she didn’t prep her body.

But when Dick turned to find Y/N standing at the ready on the other side, his tough-love coaching style disappeared.

She looked so small and fragile, clearly nervous for the actual fight training.

Sometimes Dick forgot that Y/N wasn’t like his family or his teammates. She didn’t graduate from field work to sitting behind a computer. Hacking and computer science was her first and only exposure to this life.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing. You just…look nervous.”

“I am,” she admitted.

With that, Dick walked across the mat and planted a kiss on her lips.

He stepped back with a smile, “Ready?”

She beamed at him and nodded.

For the next half hour or so, Dick taught Y/N all the basics of self defense: how to get out of holds, where to hit an attacker for the most impact, and how to prevent herself from getting injured in the process.

“Things are going to be quicker in real life. You’re going to have to get over the feeling of panic and calm yourself down enough to properly react,” Dick explained.

Y/N nodded with her back to him as she returned to her spot on the other side of the training mats.

But she didn’t reach it before Dick surprised her with a chokehold from behind her.

Before now, Dick had been walking her through moves step by step. But he clearly was trying to prove the point that she would most likely not be expecting these attacks. And he wanted her to get used to reacting to the surprise of it all.

Except…Dick didn’t think this training tactic completely through.

Dick hadn’t taken into account that his student and girlfriend was also a victim of domestic violence.

Since she first escaped from underneath her parents’ roof, Y/N’s had improved a lot when it came to treating and handling her PTSD.

It used to be so much worse.

Loud noises would throw her into panic attacks. People just lightly touching her without her expecting it made her jump feet away. Anytime she got a whiff of alcohol that smelled even a little bit similar to her father’s preferred brand could set her off.

Over the years, it got better.

Therapy helped. Dick helped – his whole family had helped.

But Y/N knew it would always be there, waiting inside her.

And in this moment, it decided to reveal itself once again.

Y/N’s vision blurred. All she could hear was her heartbeat making its way to her ears.

It wasn’t until her entire body was trembling that Dick realized something was wrong.

He let go.

But before he even completely let go, Y/N dodged away so quickly that she almost tripped over her own feet.

She whipped around, eyes so wide. Like a deer facing a hunter, fully aware it was about to be slaughtered.  

And Dick realized how much he just fucked up.  

Without even realizing what she was doing, Y/N slowly lowered herself to the ground, not trusting that her knees to not give out at any moment.

“Y/N,” Dick whispered desperately.

It was hearing how sorry he was already that made Y/N’s eyes fill with tears.

As soon as she was shakily lowered to the ground, she hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face in them.

“Can we stop?” She begged, as if she had no choice and Dick had complete control.

Her voice and sob was muffled by her knees.

“Yes, we’re stopping,” Dick immediately answered with a clear voice. "You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

But Y/N only nodded, not helping to convince Dick that his words comforted her in the slightest. 

Her entire body was trembling as she continued to squeeze her knees as tightly as she could.

Dick kneeled but didn’t move any closer to her.

“Can I…Please…Can I touch you?” He whispered.

But she shook her head.

Not because she didn’t want him to, but because she felt like she had no control over her body right now. And she had no idea how it was going to react to being touched again. 

And she was already mortified and confused and terrified.

“OK,” Dick sighed as he lowered himself to the mat as well. “I’m just going to sit here. OK? I’m not going to get anywhere near you.”

Y/N didn’t respond. But her body was still clearly trembling.

“Can you just breath for me?” Dick asked softly. "Deep breaths in, slow breaths out.”

She still doesn’t respond. But he can hear her trying to do as he asked.

Dick didn’t think he should say any more, worried that his talking was just making the whole situation worse. But then he remembered a tactic Bruce had taught him to console victims who were going into shock or scared of them.

“Can you count backwards from 100 with me?” He then asked.

“What?” She sputtered out, confusedly.

But it was good that she was clearly able to even process that he was talking to her.

“Countdown from 100,” he repeated gently. “100, 99, 98,” he started.

She eventually joined in.

When they reached 1, Y/N went quiet again.

It seemed to have worked. 

After a few minutes, Y/N finally stood up.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she whispered quickly, but it was so quiet that Dick almost didn’t catch it.

The next second, she rushed out of the cave.

Now that her PTSD had calmed down, she was clearly embarrassed.

“Y/N! Wait!” Dick called after her in a panic and jogged after her.

When they got to the main part of the manor and Y/N reached the stairs to go to the second floor, she had flown past a very confused and concerned Bruce Wayne.

Dick paused when Y/N sprinted up the stairs with her eyes blood shot and cheeks tear stained.

“What did you do, Dick?” Bruce grunted, not even considering that it could also possibly be Y/N’s fault.

Dick sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I was showing her some self-defense…and I…I trigged her PTSD and she had a panic attack.”

“You need to be more careful,” Bruce reprimanded.

“I know, I know. It was stupid.” Dick already knew he messed up.

Bruce remained disappointed by Dick’s mistake.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Dick mumbled and passed Bruce with his head hung.

Dick returned to his childhood room, the one they always stayed in while visiting. 

The shower was already running.

He figured he should give her some time to herself and not rush into the bathroom.

Y/N was most likely crying and wanted to hide it from him. Even though she already realized Dick would know that’s exactly what she was doing.

10 minutes later, Y/N came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam and a white towel wrapped tightly around her.

Dick’s heart broke even more when he saw her red, bloodshot eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, desperate for her forgiveness.

He should’ve realized that certain things in typical self-defense training could trigger her.

Bruce had taught him to always expect the unexpected. And Y/N’s PTSD should’ve be expected while he put her under such a tense and rigorous circumstance.

Y/N hung her head in shame. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Dick.”

Her voice was so small, so vulnerable. Dick had to hold his breath to hear it.

“Y/N, you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he insisted and he slowly stood up from the edge of the bed.

Dick wanted to go to her, but he was so scared of making things worse.

“Will you please come here?” He finally asked in a whisper.

She practically tiptoed to her boyfriend, while she held her towel tightly to her body as if it were some kind of armor.

As soon as Y/N was a few inches away, Dick gently tugged her onto his lap.

He was a very tactile man, and not being able to give her physical comfort was slowly killing him. And he felt utterly useless to help her.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed or sorry. I knew better than to surprise you like that. I was an idiot. What happened was my fault, OK?”

She nodded slowly.

Eventually his words would get through to her.

“Can you still train me?”

Y/N finally shocked Dick with her question.

“Of course, Y/N. Let’s just take it slower next time. I promise to be more careful.”

She nodded quickly, fully believing him and trusting him.

Now he put his arms around her, holding her to him tightly.

Dick had always been protective over her. But when she showed signs of being triggered, he went full mama bear on her. But that was also Dick as a person. He was so caring of everyone in his life. He was a big brother, a leader, a stand-in father sometimes even. 

But it often led to Y/N’s guilt when Dick felt the need to treat her like a piece of glass. But sometimes…she was. And that was OK.

“Wanna get to sleep?” He muttered into her hair.

She nodded again.

Dick carefully moved her from his lap and placed her on the bed before he stood.

Y/N watched with love in her eyes as Dick moved around the room and grabbed some of his clothes to give to her to sleep in.

What had she done to deserve him?

“I’ll give you a minute,” Dick told her as he handed the clothes to her. 

Not that he hadn’t seen her naked hundreds of times before. He was just treading carefully now. 

“Want some tea?” He asked as he walked to the door. 

“Sure,” she agreed quietly.

When Dick returned with two cups of tea, Y/N was already underneath the covers of their bed.

Dick watched Y/N as she took her first sip.

“You want to talk about it?” He was ever so careful in his tone, making sure it was obvious that Y/N didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.

“There’s not much to tell,” she admitted with a shrug.

“That’s alright though.”

Y/N sighed. “As fucked up as it sounds, I sometimes forget about all the things he used to do to me.” 

She chuckled darkly, “Guess that’s repression for ya.”

Dick winced slightly.

“He used to grab me by the throat. Constantly. Because he hated whenever I tried to talk back or fight him with words. So he made sure I couldn’t talk at all. It was all about control.”

Despite being trigged and having a panic attack earlier, Y/N talked about her tragic past without any emotion, and it sounded so casually. She was numb to the memories, but the scars manifested themselves in different ways now – and that was proven today.

Y/N looked up when Dick hadn’t said anything.

She was taken aback by how he looked as if he was going to be sick.

“I’m fine, Dick. Really.” She insisted as she cupped his cheek.

It hurt Dick to hear these things more than it hurt Y/N now. 

“You were dealing with your past all by yourself long before you met me,” Dick answered. “But I just need you to know I’m never going to let anything like that ever happen to you again.”

He took in a shaky breath. “Even if – fuck – even if something happened between us, and we weren’t together…I’d still keep you safe. Do you understand?”

Y/N smiled.

Oh, Dick. His gentleness never stopped amazing her.

“I know that, Dick. I’ve always known that.”

Before he could answer, she added, “Now enough talking. Can you just cuddle me now?”

Dick laughed at her demanding and teasing tone.

“Get over here,” he pulled her into his chest.

Soon his grasp was so soothing to Y/N’s body that she reached the ultimate level of relaxation, especially after being drained from her earlier panic.

Y/N felt Dick kiss the top of her head before she fell asleep in his arms.

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ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

[tsarisfanfiction]

Choke

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Virgil, Scott, Tracy Brothers

Can’t be bothered to come up with a neat title and summary for this right now, so calling it one of my drabbles even though it’s 2k words and longer than a bunch of my published fics, oops.

Was not what I had envisaged writing - I was actually poking through my inbox to look at prompts - but the idea stuck in my head and wanted writing, so I let it happen.

Sound was an important part of Virgil’s life.  Strains of music, ivory piano keys, needle on vinyl.  Machinery roaring, murmuring, humming along as oil stained his sleeves.  His brothers, too many of them for silence to ever be an option, and even the quietest loud enough to fill his life.

He was familiar with so many sounds, could tell from the first vibrations what sort of attention it deserved, so when a throttled squeak sounded from next to him, he was moving before any of his other senses had registered the cause.

“Scott!”  His brothers, all gathered around the table, added to the cacophony as they too scrambled to their feet, ingrained instincts pulling them towards their eldest brother like moths to a flame.  Virgil was closest, and had moved first, so he was the one that won the dubious prize.

The throttled squeaking didn’t stop, somewhere on the wheezing scale, and hands were wrapped around his brother’s neck in an instinctual desperation Scott would never normally let show.  Not if he had any real control over his actions.

They were first aid trained, and something like this was right in the heart of the basics, taught at school, let alone Rescue Scouts or on their professional courses.  From the heaving of his brother’s shoulders, Scott still remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

It just wasn’t working.

“I’ve got you,” Virgil promised, muscles straining against flannel as he tugged the stool Scott was perched on backwards, away from the table.  Dimly, he was aware of the others hovering in his periphery, not crowding the two of them but there if needed.  “Let’s get you on your feet.”

Hands still around his own throat, body taut as he tried and failed to cough up whatever had jammed itself in his windpipe, Scott didn’t fight Virgil as he pulled him upright.  Already, his lips were changing hue, gaining a tint of blue that suggested it wasn’t going to be as simple as just coughing up the obstruction.

At least they were all trained first responders.

Virgil nudged Scott until he was leaning forwards, at least partially propped up by Virgil’s own strength as his hand supported his brother’s chest.  There was no point in standing on ceremony; Scott was still conscious enough to know what was going to happen.  He gave a warning out of habit; almost before he finished speaking, his free hand was moving, the heel of his palm driving into Scott’s back.

No change.  Scott was still scrabbling at his throat, his lips still changing colour.

Virgil did it again, and again when all he got was a strangled noise that was clearly Scott trying his best to dislodge the obstruction.

Two more hits continued to be useless, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his brothers moving away – dispersing to get more equipment, he vaguely registered with the little concentration he had to spare.

The next stage, then. He bundled Scott into a pseudo-embrace, biceps pinning him in place as his hands arranged themselves, palm over fist, just below his brother’s ribcage.  This was going to hurt.

In and up, a fluid yet sharp moment that jarred the entirety of the body in his arms.  He got a faint wheeze in response, still nowhere near good enough.  Scott’s weight was increasing against him, and Virgil knew he didn’t have long before he passed out.

Another thrust, powerful enough to raise his taller brother onto his tiptoes momentarily, failed to dislodge the offending blockage, and Virgil started mentally running through the steps he’d have to take if this failed.  Steps that Scott would hate with a passion.

He pulled back sharply again.

The noise it pulled from Scott’s lips was painful, but a relief all the same as something resembling a strangled cough was accompanied by a chunk of something black and charred dropping onto the table in front of them.

“Th-” his brother wheezed. He was trembling slightly, adrenaline coursing through his body, and Virgil immediately guided him down to the floor – less of a distance to fall if he lost his balance.  Scott’s hand was back at his throat, but fingers massaged rings into the skin, rather than clutching desperately.

Virgil didn’t let go.

“Water?” John offered, face still pinched with worry as he carefully knelt down in front of Scott, plastic cup in hand.  Scott’s hands were still trembling as they massaged his throat; if they needed a sign to tell them how shaken their big brother was, it was in the way John held the cup to his lips for him, tilting it just enough for a few drops at a time, and Scott accepted it.

Behind him, next to Virgil, who still had both his arms firmly wrapped around Scott for support, Gordon crouched down.  A tanned hand ran lightly over the site of the back slaps, making its own tracks up and down and round and around in another gesture that was supposed to be comforting. Scott didn’t make any moves to pull away, so Virgil assumed it was giving him what he needed.

“Alan’s gone to get a scanner,” John explained after a moment.  Scott gave a miniscule nod of acknowledgement as Virgil lightly rested a hand over his abdomen, hoping the thrusts to clear the obstruction hadn’t done any more damage, but knowing Scott would definitely be at least bruised.  He hadn’t had the luxury of holding back his considerable strength.  “How are you feeling?”

Slender fingers rested on Scott’s shoulder, not far from where Gordon was still rubbing his back lightly.

“’M okay,” Scott rasped, his own hands finally falling from his throat to rest in his lap.  “Thanks, Virg.”

As though Virgil would have done nothing while his brother choked.  “Don’t make it a habit,” he warned, and was rewarded with a slightly pained chuckle.

“Don’t plan to,” Scott promised.

“So, which part of Grandma’s cooking was it, anyway?” Gordon asked, leaning forwards a little as if he could make out the culprit if he squinted hard enough.

Scott gave a shrug, his whole body shifting.  Virgil saw the warning for what it was and tightened his hold on his brother before he could try and clamber back to his feet.  With John and Gordon both joining in as well, Scott’s bid for freedom was scuppered before it began.

“There’s no rush,” Virgil reminded him pointedly.  “Stay put until Alan gets back with the scanner.”

Scott groaned, but surrendered.  Against three brothers he had no chance, and they all knew it.

“He won’t be long,” John reminded him.  “More water, Scott?”  The plastic cup was offered again; this time Scott took hold of it with his own hands, no longer visibly trembling.  John obediently let go, but his hands hovered in catching range as Scott took another drink.

Alan appeared just as he lowered the cup again, medscanner clutched in one hand.  He looked openly relieved to see that Scott was breathing again, but still deployed it as soon as it was in range.

The light flickered over their brother, and a moment later a holographic representation of Scott was hovering in the air in front of them.  Superficial bruising, it declared, but to Virgil’s great relief there was nothing more serious than that.

All in all, Scott had escaped more or less unscathed, and with the scan proving it, they had no reason to keep Scott pinned to the floor.  Virgil still insisted on helping him to his feet again, to a fond eyeroll that said Scott was humouring him, and as a unit all of the brothers returned to the table.

None of them were particularly keen to continue eating dinner.  The black lump sat innocently on the table, a reminder of what their grandmother’s cooking was capable of, and after a moment of staring at their half-finished plates they unanimously decided not to risk any more of it.

“Takeout?” Gordon suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Virgil agreed, pushing the plate in front of him away.  The rest of his brothers followed suit.

“I’ll go get pizza,” Scott volunteered, making his way to his feet.  Virgil’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could take a step – on Scott’s other side, Gordon had apparently had the same idea.

Opposite, John had already brought up a menu and started placing an order.  “It’ll be ready for pickup in fifteen minutes,” he said.  “It’s the usual place, Alan.”

Scott made a noise of affronted protest, but their youngest brother beamed and darted out of the kitchen with an “F.A.B!”

“Give yourself a bit longer to recover before you break the sound barrier,” Virgil told Scott, amused. His eldest brother huffed at him, but reluctantly conceded the point and sat back down again.  “So, who’s clearing this up?”

John and Gordon looked at each other warily.  For his part, Virgil pressed his shoulder against Scott’s, making it perfectly clear that he was needed on observation.  Just in case.  Neither of his other brothers seemed particularly pleased with the silent declaration, but didn’t argue.  Instead, they sprung into a game of rock-paper-scissors.

John won, and settled back smugly where he sat, tablet seemingly taking up all of his attention as Gordon whined.

“It’s not so bad,” Scott told him.  “Look, I’ll help.”  He was halfway to standing by the time Gordon clutched at his shoulders and pushed him back down again.

“No, no,” he said.  “It’s fine.  You need to stay put, otherwise Virgil’ll get grumpy.”  Virgil rolled his eyes; he wasn’t the only one that would protest, and they all knew it.

As Gordon started gathering up the abandoned plates, the blast shutters slid across, shutting out the retracting pool before the silver rocket launched into the sky.

Virgil saw the longing glance Scott sent his ‘bird as she rapidly vanished from sight and squeezed his shoulder.

“Food’ll be here soon,” he promised, knowing full well that that wasn’t the reason behind the look. They all got angsty whenever someone else took their ‘birds out instead, after all.  “Try not to choke on it this time.”

Scott swatted at him as Gordon barked out a laugh.

“We’ll make sure to cut it up nice and small for you,” the aquanaut grinned.  “After-”

In one swift motion, Scott scooped up the now-empty cup and hurled it at him.  Gordon lunged to the side as it sailed past him.

“Hey!”

“Just helping you clear the table,” Scott said sunnily.  His hand crept towards one of the plates and Gordon jolted forwards with another yelp to snatch it up first, even though they all knew Scott wouldn’t actually throw something breakable.  Grandma would kill him if he did.

“I don’t need help from someone who couldn’t swallow his food properly,” Gordon retorted, ducking away from the swipe that comment earned him.  “Why don’t you go sit by the pool for a few minutes?  We’ve got half an hour until pizza.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil chipped in, taking hold of Scott’s elbow.  “Let’s leave him to it.”  Scott smirked in agreement and stood up, leading the way out through the once-again open shutters.  Behind them, John muttered something about burning, and Virgil surmised that he wasn’t planning on becoming as crispy as whatever Scott had choked on.

Scott sprawled onto one of the loungers, and Virgil would have thought it nothing particularly out of the ordinary for the times Scott did use them, except for the hand that briefly rubbed at his throat again in passing.

It seemed to be a subconscious gesture rather than a point for concern, but Virgil pointed the scanner at him again, just to be on the safe side.  Scott jumped as the light flickered over him again, and sighed when his eyes focused on the device.

“Didn’t you already do that?”

“No harm in checking twice,” Virgil pointed out.  The result came back the same as before, to his relief.

Scott hummed at him, but didn’t dispute it.  Then again, the result was in his favour, so he had no reason to.  Content that his brother would be fine soon enough, Virgil let the conversation lapse into silence.  In the kitchen, Gordon was grumbling about clearing up by himself, and every so often John sniped something in return.  Normal sounds, at least when John was dirtside.  Beside him, Scott was also silent, seemingly content to listen to their brothers without interrupting.

There really was no such thing as silence in their home.  As long as it didn’t herald something worrying, Virgil wouldn’t have it any other way.

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

- PART TWO

Summary: After waking up, you realise the realities of the world you've been pulled into. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: stabbing, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: make sure to read part one, otherwise this won't make any sense xD there's still a bit of build up going on, but starting with part three we'll be getting some action

You woke up from a restless sleep, crumbs of mascara stuck to your face. God, you needed a shower and a toilet immediately. The club was dead empty from the view upstairs, only a few people cleaning the tables and moping the floor. You stretched your arms and walked to the door, surprised it wasn't locked.

"Ah, miss Y/L/N, good morning! I hope you had a pleasant sleep." Someone startled you and you cleared your voice.

"Hi, who are you?"

"Oh, my apologies, I am Onyankopon." The man smiled and handed you a paper bag. You peekee inside and saw something which resembled clothes and toiletries. You recognised the stag pin in his chest, another of Zeke's employees. "I assume you'd like to clean yourself up. Please follow me."

"I'd love that, thank you." You smiled and followed Onyankopon downstairs. He told you bits and pieces of the Jaeger family overthrowing the police and gaining control of Paradis City, how the Marleyans wanted control over the city's resources and docks, all kinds of information you weren't entirely sure you were supposed to know. He walked you to the backstage, where all the strippersdancers got ready, encouraging you to use whatever you needed for you'd be the star of the club. That didn't help you in any way, instead it was anxiety-inducing, and your toes curled at his affirmation. You quickly took off last night's makeup, brushed your teeth, washed your face and body in a sink and got dressed. The clothes were simple, a long, light blue shirt — clearly a man's — and a pair of leggings. You wondered whom they belonged to, perhaps that grim-looking lady, Yelena. She terrified you with her look that could kill. Your hands hovered over the vanity in the dressing room but decided not to waste any more time and folded your old clothes, placing them in the paper bag.

"I'm ready." You walked out of the room and met with Onyankopon. He smiled and guided you out through the back door. "Hey, Onyankopon, who's Mikasa?"

"Oh, miss Mikasa is our best assassin. She's loyal only to Eren, though, which is an impediment for Zeke... I probably shouldn't have said that." He opened the door of a superb black car and you climbed inside with a sigh. You heard how the mafia was based on trust, and no one trusted you.

Most of the ride was silent, your eyes wandering out the window until Onyankopon parked in front of a huge and heavily guarded mansion. You knew the Jaegers were rich, but this was beyond obscene. You opened the door and Onyankopon scolded you for doing that, but you assured him you were perfectly capable of doing things by yourself. He walked you through the beautiful front garden of the mansion, through the large hallway and into what you assumed to be a living room. Or an office? Whatever that was, it was as big as the dining room of the orphanage.

"Ah, the little bird has arrived! You look splendid in my shirt." Zeke welcomed you and you felt your cheeks warm up at his words. The heat disappeared just as quickly when your eyes met with Yelena's. "Come, sit. I suppose you're hungry."

You nodded, feeling saliva building up in your mouth at the sight of croissants, bagels and all kinds of foods you've never had before. Historia was rich, but even her money wasn't enough to feed so many mouths. Doors swung open and you saw Eren barge in, followed by a few people close behind. He plopped on a couch opposite you, the same inexpensive look on his face.

"Let's get over with this. I've got shit to do."

"Impatient as always." Zeke rolled his eyes. "Y/N, do you swear to obey and serve the Jaeger family?" The question caught you off guard, but you nodded.

"I do."

"There, done." The older Jaeger brother shrugged and Eren clicked his tongue.

"You almost didn't let Mikasa walk out of this room alive because she swore loyalty to me and this is all you do to her? You're getting soft, brother."

The air in the room grew thick, almost impossible to breathe it in. All eyes were on you, and you didn't know if what you felt was shame or fear, or both.

"Very well." Zeke walked behind you and took your left hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Hold that there, will you, love?" He smiled and you slightly relaxed. Until — a sharp pain, followed by electricity and heat shot from your hand, through your arm. A blood-curling scream erupted from your throat, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you squirmed and thrashed at burning sensation, your hanned pinned to the table with a knife. Blood seeped from the wound and you panicked, no one in that room rushing to your aid. No one blinked, no one felt sorry. "Swear your loyalty to me. To the Jaeger family."

"I swear! Oh, God, I s-swear! Please!" You begged, feeling your temperature falling from your cheeks. Zeke twisted the knife and you fell from the couch, knees hitting the wooden floor.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, unphased by your whimpers, sobs and yelling, as he let go of the knife that still pierced your flesh.

"T-to you! Make it stop, p-please!"

"Good enough for me. Any objections?" Zeke eyed his little brother.

"Just stitch her hand. She's annoying." Eren clicked his tongue and poured himself a cup of coffee. When Onyankopon pulled the knife out, blood gushed out of the fresh wound and you felt the room spin and your head heavy, vision blurry — you fainted.

A hard slap across your cheek woke you up and you met with Yelena, eyes drifting to your bandaged hand. It was damn painful to move it, and you used your other hand to support your weight, shifting your position on the couch.

"Finally." Eren got up and and handed you a file. You flipped through it and found pictures and information of the men from the club.

"Y/N, this is Armin, our bookkeeper. He'll be paying you after every successful show. And this is Mikasa, she'll train you in self-defence. I suspect you won't need it, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Zeke pushed the glasses with his index finger.

"You stabbed me." You bluntly stated, eyes glued to the bandages.

"It'll heal."

"It'll heal? I'm already in debt, you didn't need to stab me!" You got up and instantly felt a gun to your head. Great.

"Sit." Yelena's voice was brash and commanding. Your brain told you to listen to her, but your instincts told you to provoke her, to taunt her. Teeth gritting, you took a deep breath and lowered yourself down, deciding to do both.

"You're not gonna shoot me without Mr. Jaeger's permission, so don't point your gun at me." A satisfied smirk creeped on your lips — you didn't technically provoke her, just stated the obvious.

"Can I shoot her?"

"No." Zeke enjoyed the show, and unbeknownst to you, he, too, felt somewhat proud of your little snarky remark. "You still have to prove your loyalty. Talk to the band, choose some songs for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You're free to settle your training hours with Mikasa, and to go wherever you want, but you are not allowed to step foot anywhere outside the centre of Paradis. Last thing I need is some Marleyan kidnapping you and torturing you for information. Or the cops. Dismissed."

"Mr. Jaeger, if I may?" You waited for his nod of approval. "Since I won't be living at the orphanage anymore, where exactly am I going to stay?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Blouse, Springer, come here." Zeke waved his hand. More people, more names.

It slowly dawned to you that the Jaegers had a thorough structure with extremely loyal people, and you'd have to quickly find your place there and earn their trust, lest you died a painful death. A bubbly brown-eyed woman and a cheerful-looking man approached Zeke's desk, and finally you saw someone less serious. Onyankopon was nice and all, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. These two seemed... fun.

"These are Sasha Blouse and Connie Springer, leaders of the drug cartel. You'll stay with them until you're capable of living by yourself."

The duo smiled at you and you felt genuine warmth from them, making you wonder just how bad the mafia was. They seemed to like working for the Jaeger brothers, but you couldn't judge that just yet.

"Oh, we've already moved your stuff to their place, so there is no need for you to visit Historia. Now go, we've got work to do." Zeke placed a cigarette between his lips before turning his back at you.

You were right, Sasha and Connie were fun people. They talked a lot, and you warmed up to them with a few jokes and puns. Connie handed you a phone containing a few contacts, neither of which were Zeke or Eren— apparently you weren't allowed to speak to them, they would speak to you. Sasha explained how you had to forget your past, and dedicate yourself solely to the family — no relationships, no friends, no acquaintances. You were not permitted to fall in love, which was understandable, considering the circumstances, but hard, considering the inability to control feelings.

"Don't worry about it too much. Zeke and Eren care about their subordinates, as long as you listen." Connie wrapped an arm around your neck. Besides, you're one of the lucky ones. Boss never spares witnesses, so he clearly saw potential in you." Somehow, that didn't make you feel any better, you only felt more weight on your shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard you can sing!" Sasha beamed, clapping her hands. "I can't wait for your first show, I bet it'll be awesome."

"It has to be, otherwise you'll have to come to my funeral." You shook your head, exiting Jaeger Manor. A honk caught your attention and you saw Mikasa impatiently waiting for you in a car. "Any advice before I go?"

"Don't get attached to any of us." Connie sighed.

"But trust that the family will protect you if you're loyal." The woman encouraged you before hugging you. A hug, something you never thought you'd get from a mobster.

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 6: Look Alive, Sunshine

summary: the three of you find more questions than answers and the start of a whole new fuckin' problem im so so so sorry

warnings: tw for gore, bloodshed, hurt/little comfort, angst, gunfight, etc

word count: 4,166 she’s a big bitch lol

read on ao3 here / masterlist

“Let’s look around,” Ellie said dejectedly.

Joel walked off on his own, giving the three of you some space. Ellie went through a door and walked down the hall to her right, following it.

The halls and rooms here were void of your previous allies, not a single soul seemed to be here but you could still make out traces of equipment and feel a semblance of sentimentality from your memories. Damned memories tickling at the edge of your mind.

You picked up some papers and read them quickly, hearing Ellie somewhere in another room asking if anybody is there and Joel off to your right in some other room shuffling around. There was still quite a bit of medical paperwork on the hopes of a cure, of somebody like Ellie coming by.

Unfortunately the research was only bits and pieces but you could catch an idea of a project involving infected monkeys. Suddenly you were startled as Ellie shouted, “Yoo-hoo! Fireflies! Cure for mankind over here! Anyone?”

Before you could tell her to stop, Joel reprimanded her. “Let’s keep it down until we figure out what’s going on.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw him savenging around, picking up remnants of med kits, gears, even forgotten bullets and tools. Idly you think hJoel has the right idea and go off searching around too, pocketing the rest of the papers to finish reading them later.

The three of you continue looking quietly until coming to the conclusion there’s not much here.

“You sure this is where they’d be,” Joel asks you.

“Positive. That room over there was my uncle’s office,” you pointed towards an open door. “They must have pushed back further into the building.”

Ellie was the first to walk down a hall, finding it leading across to a landing with elevators and stairs. The man stayed behind for a beat, eyeing you. Likely second-guessing your motioves. Eventually he turned and walked away, following the teen. At the center of it all were large black containers and she kneeled in front of an open one and began to read, Joel joining her in flipping through the papers.

“Nothing useful,” Ellie states, throwing the papers down a bit more harshly than necessary.

“Ain’t nothin’ here but a bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo.”

You reach for some of the books and a binder and flip through them quickly too, noting some words about failed specimens and subjects not surviving an experiment until ultimately being harvested. Whatever they were doing wasn’t going well and they seemed to be feeling the weight of morality on their shoulders. There was an entry logged by some Doctor Anderson about feeling conflicted about torturing humans and questioning if it was worth it.

Shutting the binder quickly and throwing it in your backpack to finish reading it later, your mental dialog cut short as Ellie sighed heavily, “I don’t get it.”

“Looks like they all just packed up and left in a hurry, unless you got a better idea?”

Before you could answer, a loud metallic bang hit from the floor above the three of you. Ellie and Joel looked at each other before she said a bit grimly, “Maybe not all of ‘em left.”

“Stay close,” Joel commanded.

The stairs up to the third floor was behind Ellie and she went up first as you finished zipping up your backpack and tossing it on.

The floor above was more or less the same, open to the central garden in the middle of the building, objects in disarray, out of use vending machines that you’re pretty positive you used to pry open to steal sodas from. All this, but no Fireflies.

Joel went through a door on the left, probably scavenging for more things to find whereas you and Ellie went the scenic route on the outside corridor.

“What do you think happened?”

“Considering they had enough time to pack up research,” you pointed at some boxes, “they must have left willingly.” You shuffled through some more papers, looking for a clue. “But the question is, why leave?”

Ellie walked inside a door and followed the path of some wires that lead to an old flood light, “There are no bodies. That’s good, right?”

“If we find out where they went,” came Joel’s voice from behind you two.

You followed Ellie down the hall, peering into rooms and broken windows to your left. Suddenly there was another noise coming from behind and when the three of you turned, the very same flood light you’d all passed knocked over, lying prone on the ground.

“Shit,” Joel whispered.

“Um… So it’s probably clickers, right?”

You flashed Ellie a look, “Not the time.”

“Right.”

You all held your breath for a few moments, trying to listen until Joel broke the silence, answering Ellie. “No. Clickers don’t hide.”

He looked at you, giving you a once-over, likely weighing the possibility of you betraying him. You responded in kind expression, silently telling him to give whatever plot he has in mind a try.

Wary old bastard, you thought. As if you’d pull a stunt this far into your mission together, even after he began to act lukewarm to your presence.

You took the lead down a tarp covered hall, not really remembering this area much. They probably did push up to these higher levels judging by all the lab equipment left behind.

Digging in your memory, you recalled everybody keeping to the first and second floors in this building to make bailouts quicker. The militia men were on the rooftops to keep an eye out for any stray hunters or other unfriendlies.

Whatever happened on these floors were not from when you kept around.

Your trio came to a corner room that looked as if it were being used as an x-ray exam area, there were large black television-like screens on the wall that had some mangled imagery on them. Whatever it was put a shudder through you. Along the back wall, Joel found an x-ray abandoned on the counter and picked it up, when you and Ellie looked over his shoulder it looked like a skull with fungal growth on it. Like somebody who was infected for quite some time.

“Gross.” Ellie pretended to gag when she saw the photo.

Joel tucked the x-ray away and went on to look around, you followed by looking in the cabinets for alcohol disinfectant. “They had to have left something behind,” you mumbled to yourself as you began to feel the inklings of irritation slip into your bones.

Joel went to another door, this time leading to some room to the right but as he opened it, a screech came and he jumped, “Jesus!”

You drew your pistol from your hip and pointed it outwards, pushing Ellie behind you until you could hear chittering.

Fuckin’ monkeys , you think as you put your weapon down, faintly seeing three monkeys jump out a window on the opposite side of the room.

Ellie walks next to Joel, peeking into the lab he was stepping into and he leans towards her, “Well, at least it aint clickers.”

“Yeah. No Fireflies either,” she steps into the room. She throws her arms open wide, “Well, maybe in all that research they turned into fucking monkeys.”

You try to stifle a laugh but fail, a light giggle leaves your lips. “At least they’re not flying monkeys.”

“Just keep searching, we'll find something,” Joel says, shooting you a pointed look about your banter with Ellie.

The room looked like it used to be a science lab, naturally. The left and back side of the room were lined with metal cages, likely the ones that originally held the monkeys. Otherwise, there were large black countertop tables around, probably where students listened to their lecture and did hands-on assignments. Joel approached one of the tables in the middle, picking up what looked to be a recorder and pressed play.

A male voice clicked on. There were sounds of shuffling and screeches from the monkeys in the background. “That’s four palettes of lab equipment all packed up and ready to go. Now - big question is what do we do with all you guys. They say the tainted batch needs to be put down. You know what I say? I say screw that. Who made a bigger sacrifice than you, right? If anyone deserves to run free out there it’s-. Hey, easy! Agh. Shit. Oh, no. It bit me. Oh my god,” his breath gets heavy and the recorder stops abruptly.

Holy fuck, they were purposefully infecting animals , you think in horror.

“I’m sure glad we didn’t mess with them monkeys,” Joel says. “Did you know?”

You look at him wide-eyed and slack jawed. “Not a fuckin’ clue. I know my uncle was running blood tests and cell regrowth experiments but nothing like that.”

“He didn’t say where they went,” Ellie said, eyeing the two of you. The tension was minorly palpable, whatever small victory you gained in the camradiery field was now likely gone between Joel and you.

“I know, let’s keep looking,” Joel responded.

You fixed your composure and tried to reassure her, “We’ll find them.”

Your small trio followed the room into another, searching that one but finding nothing of interest in the drawers or on the tables. Not even another research binder. There was another door to the right and Joel approached it, trying to push his way in but there was a green metal object keeping it closed. He looked to you, “Hey, come help me.”

Stepping beside him, the two of you pushed against the door, throwing yourselves against it repeatedly to open it until it gave way. Joel gave you a tense nod, a silent thanks as he walked in first, Ellie close on his heels.

It wasn’t until you entered the room did you see it- the body. It looked to have been dead for quite a while, the bones were very obvious but still held together by the clothes wrapped around them. The person was sitting at a desk, facing the window, where Joel loomed over it as if it didn’t bother him and he picked up what looked to be another recorder.

Click. “If you’re looking for the Fireflies, they’ve all left,” a voice said grimly. You recognized it as the same one from earlier.

Ellie looked up from a binder she was flipping through, “Yeah, no shit.”

“I’m dead,” the man continued, “Or I will be soon. Got me some time to reflect.” Joel fast forwards through the tape, “...been years that felt like we were…”

He fast forwards again, “...fucking thing was a giant waste of ti-...”

And again, “...not gonna do this anymore…”

Ellie sighs while you pace, wishing to listen to the tape in more detail later. “Come on,” Joel grumbles as he fast forwards it yet again.

“...looking for the others, they’ve all returned to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. You’ll find them there. Still trying to save the world. Good luck with that.”

Ellie sounding mildly hopeful looks to both of you, “Do either of you know where that is?”

“I know the city,” he nods before turning to catch you chewing on your fingernails in thought. “You?”

“I- I remember Marlene mentioning it to Regan on occasion but they talked about it like it was abandoned. I’ve never been there.”

“Is it far,” Ellie asked.

“It ain’t close. I mean on horseback-,” he stops abruptly, something catching his attention out the window.

“What?”

Out of the corner of your eye you see it too. Flashlights peeking through the windows. Just as Ellie asked if they were Fireflies, the light shines on them as they stood by the window and Joel pushed her down, ordering her and you to hit the deck just as whoever was on the other end of that light took a shot at you all, shattering the window.

“Shit,” you shout, ducking down to avoid the coming onslaught of gunfire.

Ellie looked at you, “Who the fuck are these guys?”

He looked at you angrily, “Did you lure them here? Is this some kind of trap?”

“Fuck you, Joel Miller! I didn’t.”

He stared you down. “Fine, It don’t matter,” Joel argued, “We know where to go. Let’s get the hell outta here.” He jerked his chin at you and spit, “Lead the way.”

You wiped the initial shock from your system and went into mission-mode, keeping yourself calm and alert. They followed you out of the room, the three of you crouching to avoid being spotted by the new threat through the windows.

Making your way through the anteroom to the office then through the lab as silently and rapidly as possible while crouching. It wasn’t until you reached the x-ray exam room when you were hit in the chin with something hard, knocking you down, dizzy.

Your mind and vision were in a haze but you managed to catch the vague shape of Joel rush somebody, likely the person who knocked you over, through the newly forming tears in your eyes. Fuck , you thought, your face hurting like a bitch.

Ellie yelled something as she went to help Joel, apparently getting the bright idea to take Joel’s machete from his backpack and swinging it wildly at the stranger.

As they fought the man, you shook your head and rose on your haunches, still dizzy. You could make out the faint shape of a second man running up to attack but through your shifting vision, saw three of him. It didn’t stop you from raising one of your dual guns from your thigh holster, taking aim. Breathing in, slowly breathing out, you took the shot when the three men formed a single one.

The loud bang reverberated through the halls, momentarily distracting you from the brawl happening somewhere to your right but soon that silenced.

“What the fuck was that,” you asked nobody in paricular.

“Don’t look like Fireflies to me,” Joel mumbled in reply, hinting you must have been telling the truth.

Together, you all walked down the tarp covered hall from earlier but saw four shapes run past some red smoke on the only way out of the building, likely trying to cut you all off. “Stay back,” Joel said as he flung one of his makeshift bombs at the intruders. After a moment, it went off and sickly screams were either cut short or continued onto a deadly moan.

Each of you hid behind random turned over tables, guns drawn.

Although six of these strangers were down, it seemed there were more as another came in through the right side, taking a shot at Ellie. Joel responded in kind and shot him square in the neck, the blood splattering a nearby wall.

You followed suit and took aim at somebody ducking below a desk much like you. Your aim was a little off because of that damned kick to the head but you got the guy nonetheless. It was messier than you’d like, the newly forming headache was making things much more difficult.

Together with Joel, you took two more men down until you reached the small lobby where the stairs were only to find another flare emitting red smoke. “What the hell,” you wondered aloud.

“Probably to tell the others how to get to where we were, building is like a maze.”

With that, you and Joel look off, making sure to keep Ellie behind you as your group traversed down the steps, finding another flare. Joel heard them before you and raised his gun. You followed as two more men rounded the corner, both being taken down by the bullets you both expelled into their bodies.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears at the adrenaline rushing through your veins, no matter how much you remained focused at the task at hand. You took a breath in an attempt to ground yourself, following Joel closely behind as he was about to round the same corner, stepping over the two dead bodies when you grabbed Joel, pulling him back as a bullet whizzed by. “Fuckin’ hell,” he gasped.

Taking to the wall you peered out and quickly aimed, letting another bullet rain free. It clashed into the wall behind your target, narrowly missing as the man ducked behind the poor choice of the glass railing. Joel put his hand on your waist, pulling you close as he leaned back around taking his chance on the guy. He must have made it count because soon you heard a soft thud of the body collapsing.

If you weren’t so preoccupied trying to stay alive, you might have noticed Joel kept his large hand on you for a few moments longer than necessary.

Joel left the relative safety of the second floor lobby, nearly running to the exit. You grabbed onto Ellie’s hand as you shoved your nearly empty gun into it’s holster on your thigh, following him. He came to the closed door that led to the next area of classrooms to get you all down to the ground floor but just as he went to open it, it banged open from the inside starling all of you. The force was so strong that it pushed Joel to the glass railing behind him, his body teetering over the edge.

“Joel!”

You dropped Ellie’s hand as you ran to him, trying to get the other man off of him as he choked your companion. By the force and chaos, the rail gave way underneath Joel. As he fell, he pulled the stranger with him.

A scream surely left you as you watched in horror as the two men fell to the ground but it grew louder when you noticed a sickening metal bar poking it’s way through Joel’s stomach, staining red in the sunlight. Beside him, the attacker lay dead in a mangled heap of limbs, his neck at an unnatural angle.

You began to shuffle onto your stomach to drop the distance from the balcony walkway to the ground floor, Ellie close behind you copying your maneuver. Together, you both landed on the ground awkwardly and unbalanced. It was so unbelievably impossible to stay focused as you watched Joel writhe in pain from the impalement as loud banging seemed to invade your senses.

Ellie jumped straight to Joel asking in a rushed panic, “What do you want me to do?”

You couldn’t hear what he said when the double doors burst open, two men with a baseball bat and machete appearing. You grabbed both of your guns, unleashing lead into them with a little more force than necessary.

When you turned back around, you saw Ellie trying to lift Joel. “Don’t!”

You ran to him and dropped to your knees, removing your backpack and began to scrounge around for clean gauze. “You’re only going to create more damage, you old bastard. Stay still.”

With the gauze in hand, you motioned for Ellie to put as much pressure as she could on the frontside of the wound. You tried your best not to jolt him around so much as you tried to assess the entry wound on his back, only to find it was buried in cement beneath him. He groaned, calling out a string of curse words.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t need to if you had good bedside manners. Goddamned brat.”

His small jab at you could have made you cry if you weren’t so invested in keeping the old man alive and with no other alternative to removing the rebar safely from him, you had no choice but to lift him away from it.

You reached into your backpack once more and grabbed a strap of leather you usually kept close by, mostly to fiddle with, and shoved it into his mouth. “To keep you from biting off your own tongue,” you explained while adjusting your position to be directly behind his upper body to prepare and stanche the blood flow from his back. “Although I think we could all use the peace and quiet.”

Whatever comeback he had was cut off as he yelled, muted by the bit. While he was distracted by your words, you had nodded to Ellie to lift Joel straight up. He quickly fell to his knees as he tried to stand, probably ready to pass out from the pain and you padded the entry wound with gauze, holding it tightly.

His words came out weak as he told Ellie, “Just get to the damn horses.”

She looked at you and you nodded, removing one hand to give her a gun. “Do whatever it takes, kiddo.”

She walked in front of you both, her arms held high with the gun in her hand, ready to take on anybody else. She led you both to a classroom and knocked over some wood panels that barely covered a broken window.

“Do you think you can handle it,” you asked him.

He didn’t answer, instead choosing to throw his body over the edge, finding himself on his back once more. “Come on, move,” Ellie demanded of him as you jumped through the window after them. Just as she got him sitting up against a table, another man burst through the door across the classroom, gun ready to fire.

Seeing as you were getting rather low on your own bullets, you reached for Joel’s revolver and threw yourself out from behind the lab table, firing two shots and hitting him in the torso.

“Come on, we gotta get you outta here,” you told him. One look at Ellie and you saw her hands and sweater covered in Joel’s blood, you likely looked the same. Brushing those thoughts away, you and her flanked him on either side, trying to walk him out.

“No, I’m okay,” he moaned. Trying to push you both off him.

“Like shit,” Ellie threw back, “You’re not okay, Joel. Now come on! Fucking walk!”

You kept your free hand up, gun drawn, and Ellie matched your pose to his left. “Down this hall,” you directed, “To the left is the main entrance, we can leave through there.”

Don’t die on me now, Joel Miller , you silently wished, hoped, prayed.

Joel began to sway between you two, his feet were failing beneath him. His body in your arms grew heavier and sluggish with each step making it harder to walk straight. You really tried to keep the gauze at his back secure against the wound but it was hard to do that while also trying to keep him balanced. As you were distracted by assessing the man, he moaned out, “Up.”

You and Ellie looked up the stairs that were against the wall in the lobby and saw two men coming towards you all, “There!”

Ellie raised her gun first, taking shots at random and you did too. It was difficult to do while doing everything possible to not drop Joel but somehow, they too, fell dead along the stairs. On his other side, the teen poked at him out of breath, “I swear to god, I get you out of this, you’re so singing for me.”

You decide to jump in on the joke, trying to lighten the mood, “I think you mean ‘for us’, Ellie.”

Joel coughed a laugh, “You wish.”

Slowly the front entrance inched closer. Ellie left to pry it open and let you two through and Joel let go of you, shoving his body and burst through the secondary doors. He lost his balance and fell down the steps only to see as some other hooded figure with his hands on Whiskey and Callus’ reigns.

Before the straggler could even draw a weapon, you and Ellie took shots at him. Joel’s revolver clicked, notifying it was out, just as the man let go of the horses.

You ran to Joel, lifting him up to his feet. He groaned in pain, “I know, I’m sorry. Just a little longer, alright, cowboy?”

He gave you an odd look as Ellie appeared and she asked him, “Can you get on?”

Whether or not he can is entirely different than if he will, you thought. You were proven right as he jumped up on Whiskey, not even noticing he was getting on the wrong horse.

“Ellie, get on Callus,” you told her as you also swung your leg over Whiskey, saddling in front of Joel. “As for you, don’t bleed all over my goddamn horse. Hold tight.”

A part of you was worried that he didn’t even bother to jab, you kicked Whiskey’s underbelly and Joel’s body slouched against your back, passing out. The fact the warmth that seeped through your body was likely his blood was gnawing against the corners of your mind but you shooed the thoughts away. Together with Ellie, you filed out of the university as fast as you could, not looking back.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Can I please request yandere Steve from a parallel universe or some magic world who can enter reader's dreams?

OH WOW! This is a perfect plot!! Thank you, dear!

Guardian of dreams

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking through dreams, kidnapping.

Words: 1519.

_______________

“See you in three moons, soldier.” You winked, leaving a gentle kiss on his bruised cheek, and Steve reached out to your face, rubbing circles on your chin with his dirty finger.

His hands were pretty busted up, his beaten body hurt - in this dream he was a deserter who turned against his government and joined you, a pirate, in your journeys. You tried finding the end of the Earth, and he loved every day he spent by your side on a ship in the middle of nowhere. He fought against other pirates and Royal Navy, sank ships, smoked like a chimney and drank like a fish, but, most of all, he got to touch you. In this dream he was your lover, and Steve felt like he was on the top of the world.

But all good things must come to an end, and for you it was time to wake up.

“But three moons is so long,” he muttered, looking at you through his long light eyelashes and biting on his lower lip. You smiled at him cheekily and gave him one more kiss - Steve tasted like blood, sweat and cheap rum.

“I’ll come back to you,” you promised, giving him a pat on the shoulder, “I always do.”

With that Steve watched you turning your back to him and slowly walking away somewhere to the pier surrounded by a thick white fog. When your distant figure disappeared from his view completely, Steve cried out on the top of his voice, clenching his bruised fists and squeezing his eyes shut. You didn’t hear him, already waking up in your warm comfy bed.

To you, these dreams were just a product of your magical imagination - your own little world created by your brain while you were asleep. You could never remember Steve’s face clearly as every time you woke up his features became somewhat distorted, blurry, and every time he was just some character inside your dream. Today he was a soldier. Two days ago he had been a warlock, and a week ago your colleague. He had always been there, inside your mind, but every time he was different - he even looked different, bearded or clean-shaved, blonde or dark-haired, skinny or beefy. But he had always been a part of your dream, a part of you, and without him the nights just weren’t the same.

Slowly waking up, you yawned and stretched in your bed, grasping your huge white pillow. Oh, this dream was a very good one. It’s a shame it ended so quickly, you thought and decided to get up to get ready for work before your alarm rang.

Aside from these dreams, you life was quite ordinary: an office worker with a stable, but rather boring job; you were still single despite your family attempts to fix you up with some decent man, and nothing particularly exciting awaited you in the nearest future, but you were alright with it. You had a good life, you thought.

Steve, on the other hand, had been in a state of utter despair for many months. It all started rather innocently as he decided to peep into a new colorful dream he stumbled upon and got curious, but then he suddenly got sucked in it as if you wanted him to be a part of it. He found himself in the middle of an enchanted forest, surrounded by elves and fairies, and realized he had ethereal wings on his back and a flower crown on his head. You were a curious little girl who got lost in the woods, and Steve became your charming guide, showing you the forest you yourself had created. 

“She's mad, but she's magic.“ He thought that time, leading you out of the woods straight to your bed when you started to wake up.

Being with you was fun. Steve enjoyed hearing your voice, listening to your stories, walking side by side with you, his little Alice - for you were little Alice that time, just a bit different one comparing to the original. He was lucky to stumble upon your dream again, and Steve entered it without hesitation. He ended up being a sick skinny boy laying in bed all the time, and you were taking care of him as his nurse. Though it was quite painful comparing to your first dream, Steve still liked it when you were kissing his forehead and wrapping him in warm blankets. 

Of course, he entered your third dream immediately as he saw it. He was keeping doing it all the time, forgetting about his own life in the magic realm and thinking of nothing but being close to you. It was an addiction, his friend Sam said, but Steve couldn’t be far away from you for too long. He just couldn’t.

Wandering the dark forest now as he ended up being thrown into his reality again after you woke up, he kept screaming and crying, feeling abandoned and forgotten. Oh, he wanted to be with you. He wanted to enter your world and see you asleep in your comfy bed, kiss your warm cheeks and smile at you when you would open your eyes and see he was here, with you.

He kept searching for a way to stay with you for longer than he could remember.

One more night, one more dream. Dressed in a fancy ballroom gown with frills and bows, your hair changing once in a few hours - all different colors and shapes and styles - you were trying to complete a quest you yourself had created but forgot about it. Steve wore an elaborate red, blue and white suit that looked like an imperial military uniform with a wide silk baldric and even carrying a sword - not a real one, though. He gained a bit of weight, he thought as he  touched his chubby cheeks and saw his rounding belly. It appeared Steve was a married middle-aged man in this dream, and he was married to you.

Married. It was the first time. Smiling and watching you through the glasses on his nose, Steve hurried after you, storming in search of answers. This time you were in a castle, and there was a carnival as people kept dancing or sneaking around, trying to solve the riddles. Steve wasn’t sure why the quest was important.

“Hurry, darling!” You asked him, motioning your husband to come closer to you while you stood near the shod gate to a little chapel, looking at the royal cyphers and odd symbols engraved on black steel. “I need you help.”

“I’m here, honey.” Steve smiled, rubbing your gentle hand in a white silk glove as he stared at the gate, trying to understand what you were looking for. “Remind me, why are we doing this again?”

“You silly!” You chuckled, your face growing hot from his little signs of affection. “We need to solve all the riddles to break free from the castle until midnight, otherwise we will stay here for the whole year before the next masquerade.”

Ooh. Yes, it sounded nice. It was exactly what Steve wanted - making your dream stay longer so he could use his magic to enter your realm while your spirit was trapped here. He could never even wish for this opportunity, and you were giving it to him yourself. 

Oh, you loved him. You most definitely loved him and were ready to give him a chance.

“Huh, let me have a look.” He whispered, propping his glasses on his nose and coming closer to the gate. “I think this cypher doesn’t match other ones.”

“I guess you’re right. Anyway, if we get the wrong one, the gate will remain close, so we will know.”

Smiling, Steve carefully withdrew a metal cypher that quickly popped up from the gate as if it wanted to be taken away, and the gate opened in front of you while you applauded your smart lovely husband. Watching your pretty face shining, the man bowed to you a little, making you go to the chapel first, and you hurried towards the stairs, not looking at him behind your back.

Taking one more cypher - the wrong one now - and locking the gate with a loud clanging, Steve smiled lovingly at you when you turned to face him behind the gate, your eyes growing wide.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” You asked him, not understanding why he left you here alone. “There are no more riddles here. Please, come, we need to enter the chapel.”

As you grabbed black iron bars, watching your husband with slight concern, Steve gave you a little peck on the lips quickly, hiding both cyphers in the pockets of his jacket. 

“My name is Steve, Y/N. I promise to come back shortly to you once I’ll bring your physical body here.”

When he pronounced the name you had never voiced in any of your dreams, probably unable to remember it in your sleep, your eyes shot open as you clamped a hand against your mouth, getting away from the gates. 

You realized you couldn’t wake up now.

________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @ninefuckingoneone

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 15

Warnings: none?

Word Count: 1.2k

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You ended up going to the last person you thought you would. You nervously paced outside her door wondering if you should actually knock or walk away. You were still getting used to the idea that she was your mother. Your real, in the flesh, long lost birth mother. It felt so natural though now to be going to her with your worries and problems.

It was as if she could sense you outside the door. Actually she probably could, after all she was one of the most powerful fairies you knew. At this moment she was probably reading your mind and being consumed with the never ending thoughts swirling around your head.

The door opened with a heavy sigh and there she was. You were thrown slightly. You’d never seen her this way before. Normally extremely polished, Farah Dowling was stood in front of you, hair in a messy bun, reading glasses, plaid pyjamas and a large glass of wine in one hand. The epitome of comfort, and you half smiled because in that moment you saw a glimpse of yourself in her.

She smiled and opened the door wider. “I was wondering if you were ever going to knock.”

You’d been with your mother a lot longer than expected. You told her about your fight with Saul and were slightly shocked when she sided with him and not you. Only slightly shocked though because what Saul said was all true.

You spoke more in depth about your childhood, what it was like growing up in the system. There were tears, laughter and a lot of wine and before you knew it you were hugging and she was stroking your hair lulling you to sleep, trying to ease your worry about the fight you’d had with Saul hours before reassuring you that he just needed to cool off.

You remembered falling asleep on your mums sofa but when you woke in the morning you were curled up in a ball against a very naked Saul Silva. Memories of the night came flooding back, the deep convo with your mum, being carried from her suite to yours. Apologising to Saul, who had, had two drinks and rushed home not being able to bare leaving things the way they were between you. Then there was the kissing, the touching, the sweet talk. Then there was the hot passionate make up sex. You didn’t like arguing with Saul but you remembered thinking if this is how the making up went you seemed to mind it a little less.

Waking up next to the man you love after having the fight and the conversation with Farah seemed to do something to your soul. It was like a weight had been lifted, like a wave of calm and serenity had passed over you. Like you were waking up new, with a fresh start and positive outlook on the events in your life rather than being so damn right pessimistic.

Today was going to be a great day. That’s what you had told yourself. Then Bloom fucked things up.

It was too early in the morning still to be dealing with this crap. You’d been hanging out with Aisha and Terra when you found out about Bloom getting help from Dane to finally break Beatrix out of the weird magical jail she was being kept in. Long story short, Bloom was acting like a complete nut case, in your opinion, a bit over the top as per. She almost went full psycho, her eyes lighting up like a bonfire. It took seconds for your body to take over, eye colour vanishing, being consumed by your magical black orbs. That knocked her down a peg or two and she handed this weird break out device thing to Aisha.

Next step was Stella’s actually not so bad plan. You couldn’t fight the fact that Bloom did deserve answers about who she was and where she came from. You knew how it had felt and you knew what it felt like now to finally know the truth. As much as the hot headed fairy got under your skin sometimes, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you were a lot alike and you needed to help in whatever way you could.

You were on board with the breaking Beatrix out plan, pushing her through your mothers spell and getting to whatever or whoever was on the other side of that hidden passage. But when the time came it turned out you had a more important role to play.

It irked you that you had to find out about what was going on from Riven, but at least you now knew.

You’d bumped into Riven and Sky in a somewhat hushed but serious conversation. Sky had beckoned you over, asking what was going on with Bloom. Apparently to activate the breaky outty

device she had knocked him out and he was well… pissed. Next thing you knew they were telling you about the patrol they were going on.

Apparently Saul had been tracking the movements of a whole heard of Burned Ones. That kept on getting closer and closer to the school. You knew it had something to do with your father and it pissed you off. Why was he doing it? What was he instructing the Burned Ones for? Who had he made a deal with?

Sky and Riven had left and you’d followed them far back enough that when the time was right you’d teleport in next to everyone when they least expected it.

Maybe it wasn’t a great plan because you teleported next to a war ready Saul who swung his sword up to your neck and almost took your head off. If it wasn’t for his fast reflexes well, he would of had a biggggg mess to clean up.

“Y/N what the hell are you doing here?” It wasn’t Saul who shouted first, you hadn’t noticed your mum standing on the other side. Saul was still trying to regain his breath from his near heart attack.

“One, I thought I could be of use when it came to the Burned Ones, they can’t hurt me. Two..” You were interrupted before you could finish your sentence. Aisha came trudging along to the front line, you watched as Saul rolled his eyes.

“Go back to school, nows not the time to be trying to gain extra credit.” Aisha glared slightly at his words.

“As i’m sure Y/N was going to say, two, we have a big problem which I thought you should know about.” You looked at Aisha shocked. That wasn’t what you were going to say at all, you weren’t planning on ratting your friends out but apparently she had no issue with doing just that.

Aisha filled Saul and your mum in on what Bloom had been planning to do with Beatrix. You were otherwise distracted by the noises only you seemed to hear and quite frankly, pissed off.

“Y/N, it’s time, it’s happening. It was never Bloom she wanted, it was always you.” You stumbled closer to the barrier, Sky shouted your name alerting the others. Farah came to your side.

“It’s Rosalind isn’t it, she never wanted Bloom, she’s been after me this whole time.”

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CHAPTER 16 ----- CLICK HERE

Heyoooo, hope you liked this chapter, I personally can't wait to get passed the events of the end of the series, then I can start really creating my own original content and not follow a script! I do have an idea so hopefully all goes as planned for the future <3

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[doctorstephenvincentstrange]

Doctor Strange & Worth: MCU Meta

So this has sat unposted in my drafts for the longest time, but I’ve decided to dust her off and let her see the light of day, after all. These are just some of my thoughts regarding Stephen’s character development and journey in the Marvel Cinematic Universe film: his growth from someone who cannot see the true worth in himself or anybody else to someone whose eyes are opened to the beauty of everything. Not to mention how that eye-opening allows him to evolve from someone who cannot love to someone who loves fully and truly, and how Kaecilius plays a vital role in opening his eyes to the error of his ways.

Without further ado, let’s get into it! 

Let’s start with the beginning of the movie.

Stephen flounces around the hospital like he owns the place and flexes his overbearing, boastful personality without a second thought. Like, most people have at least a smidgen of consideration for others and some degree of self-consciousness or ‘filter’ regarding how they treat others, but Stephen has zero. He talks down on staff members, orders people around like inferiors regardless of their status, and acts as though he is God almighty and the hospital would go to the dogs without him, overestimating his self importance. He legit acted like an overgrown child that’s yet to be struck with the reality everything is not about him. Stephen seizes every possible opportunity to show off even when inappropriate, and does all he can to assert his correctness and prioritizes it. It’s clear from the get-go that Stephen has some kind of overinflated sense of self.

All this would certainly seem to indicate beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is a generic arrogant, selfish bastard 101, but let’s skip ahead a bit, just for a sec.

This line isn’t him joking around, rather, it’s the confirmation that Stephen truly thought his own behavior was endearing. As much as he liked himself, he was convinced everybody else did, too. He genuinely, sincerely was convinced that his antics were somehow winsome and charming. And of course, having been in a position of power as a Chief Surgeon and his state of world renown, there’s no way anybody would have told him otherwise. Nobody would really be frank and honest with him — I mean, yeah, sure, Christine was, but seeing as she was the only one he was on friendly terms with who he held in high regard and was frank with him (exclude Nick, and all probable others Stephen smugly thought very little of, and their opinions), there’s no way he’d take one person’s word over that of the masses. And it’s just obvious how overcrowded he was with sycophants that overfed his deluded ego and made it harder for him to wake up to his own self deception revolving the ‘charm’ he was convinced that he possessed.

Just look at the way he hits on her! Look at the denial! We did too have fun! 

You know how people say “the bigger they are, the harder they fall?” 

Yeah, this story really does live up to that.

The lie Stephen was living was cut short when he lost it all and his fall from grace leaves him at the mercy of people’s honesty. All those “people skills” he thought he had do him no favors, and suddenly anybody and everybody can speak freely to him, and he’s not getting sugarcoated responses. He’s no longer treating people as his inferiors however he pleases without lash back.

And Stephen, who only knows his worth through the reception and acknowledgement of his talent and the amazing feats he had achieved with his hands in the neurological field, now feels the weight of worthlessness crushing down upon him. There are no more CCN interviews, no more speaking engagements. In his own mind, he is useless. And without any worth, there is no reason anyone would want anything to do with him. He cannot accept, within his narrow mindset, that anybody could ever love him in this reduced state. For that reason, he insists that Christine Palmer — that unlike TV reporters or other sycophants, has stayed by his side all this time  — must only linger beside him for her own self gain and reputation. It must simply be an act of pity, because that’s how Stephen sees Christine’s acts of selflessness and her work— nothing but her looking down on other people to boost her own sense of self, as he has.

And when Stephen goes to Karmar-Taj, he’s completely out of his element and in a setting that is absolutely foreign to him, but navigates all the same, the only way that he knows how to. His thoughtless, proud tendency to view all else as beneath him really comes back to haunt him when it threatens to close the door to magic — and miraculous change and healing for him — forever. 

By the time Stephen realizes he has misjudged the Ancient One and Kamar-Taj, and that magic is indeed very real and potentially his one last shot at reobtaining his former life, it is too late. He beseeches the Ancient One to teach him the ways of magic, but she has already seen enough of his arrogance to determine him an ill fit for a pupil..

In the end, it is because of Mordo convincing the Ancient One that even a man such as Strange still has worth and he may be of use in the future, reasserting their beliefs that all life has value, no matter how misguided it may be, it need only be redirected and put on the correct path... does the Ancient One agree and allow Strange to return, for a chance at redemption and potentially salvation. 

And so, Stephen begins studying magic. And unsurprisingly, being wrong about magic isn’t enough to hamper his antics. He’s the same old Strange.

In this scene, Wong tells Stephen when he’s not ready to learn something yet, but Stephen completely challenges and opposes him, going so far as to break the rules of the library Wong protects just so he can continue with his self advancement and conquest towards superiority (and hopefully, healing). He challenges his lessons, preferring to teach himself and refusing to acknowledge that even his teachers could possibly have any superiority to his abilities. 

 And it’s so hard for Stephen to make sense of, the backlash he receives for these behaviors. He can’t understand how he’s apparently ‘made for the mystic arts’ but is also being told to mind his pace and take everything bit by bit, step by step and not just rush headlong in impatiently as he always has. In his own mind, he’s not doing anything wrong by breaking rules or pushing limits —  it’s all about the results, after all. And this, this is for the most important result of them all... his hands. It doesn’t matter how dirty they have to get, he wants to fix them.

In the medical world, when Stephen showed off, people clapped & praised him because what harm could there be in pushing the limits and crossing the boundaries to save someone’s life? It was okay if he wanted to do something unconventional and risky (like remove a bullet from someone’s brain without a visual) because the ends justified the means, and he always delivered. It didn’t matter what he had to do or how ruthless he was, treating all around him as mere tools at his disposal to achieve what he wanted, without considering what might be at stake. Boundaries were never of the essence to Stephen.

But when he pushes the boundaries of magic and tries out the Ancient One’s Private Collection just to pursue greatness and feed his own ambition, he gets retaliation from both Wong and Mordo and is reprimanded about all the consequences he didn’t think of and other lives he wasn’t considering as he never has been before. And Stephen can barely collect himself and for the first time in the film, is speechless and out of witty remarks to snap. He is just so put off because he’s never been put in that position before, being held accountable for the liabilities of his pursuits for greatness. Simply put, he had never been made to consider the eggs he was breaking to get his omelet, and now, he is.

And he still doesn’t get it. “They  really should put the warnings before the spell,” he says, because clearly it’s not his hastiness or ambition at fault, but the book.

And he doesn’t get it, and he most likely would have never gotten it or opened up to the Ancient One, Wong, Mordo, or even Christine. No, he had to see it for himself. And see it, he does; in fact, it ends up staring him straight in the face.

They didn't spend so much screen time drawing parallels between these two over and over for no reason, this was what it was all building up to. Here, Doctor Strange meets his ego’s match. Kaecilius wants to save the world by granting everyone eternal life, preventing all its inhabitants from feeling suffering ever again. A bit like "doing work that will save thousands for years to come," no? 

The influence and efforts of others finally pay off as Stephen begins to apply their thinking, and questions what the cost will be if Kaecilius does that for the whole world, and if that accomplishment would really be as amazing as doing what he can in the immediate moment to spare the/ benefit the lives of individual people... kind of like “saving one drunk idiot with a gun,” right?. And Kaecilius dismisses Strange's interjections, repeats the same words he said to the Ancient one in the beginning... they’re just insignificant specks in an indifferent universe, just sacrifices that must be had to achieve what must be done. He even tries to reason with Strange, and appeal to the very reason he’s in that mess in the first place... his hands, and his deep desire to have them healed and restored.

And for the first time Stephen is looking the devil in the eye, and sees himself.

 “Just look at your face!”  And in that moment, Stephen rejects the man he has been, and can see clearly his flaws for what they are. His ego trip may have blinded him, but in that moment, he got on his own level and saw himself for the first time the way that others saw him, and it wasn’t someone he wanted to be and he recognized the wrongs of his ways. How ambition and the conquest for betterment can consume someone completely, until they’re so blinded in their pursuit for self worth, that they disregard the worth of all the other lives and people around them — it’s all ends that justify the means. It's not actually about doing what's right. It's about accomplishing the greatest feat possible for oneself — this is Kaecellius' ego unleashed, not a sincere quest for world salvation.

And everything bad he didn’t want to become that he saw in Kaecellius, gives way for new direction in all the inspiring goodness he sees in the Ancient One, her final farewell, and her sacrifice of her life to save his and Mordo’s own.

And in the end, Stephen finally understands what the Ancient One, Wong, and Mordo, and Christine were all on about. It’s not about what change you can create for other people to benefit yourself, Stephen; it's about the change YOU can make to benefit other people, who are so many in number and so much larger than yourself. It’s not about the strength in your hands, and what they can do; but the resolve of your heart, and the strength of your will.

And he learns, because the Ancient One teaches him...

He uses his own lifeforce to fence off Dormamu from earth, because even if he suffers, everyone else will be safe. He tests the worth that the Ancient One claimed she always saw in him; that could achieve things greater than he ever dreamed, greater than his medical ambitions. The goal-oriented, ruthless man we saw in the beginning becomes someone who learns true purpose and ambition. His life that was hollow and empty, becomes truly fulfilling.

And the most intriguing piece of irony of them all?

After exhausting countless resources, plenty of doctors, libraries, and research archives seeking a way to heal his own hands, he found nothing but failure. But using only his own willpower, he who felt helpless and powerless against his disabled hands, managed to save the entire planet and all those living within it.

Because it wasn't his hands that gave him value, nor was it his work. There was something greater, but he was blind to it in himself, and everybody else, seeing all based on what they could accomplish — their educational background, their medical accomplishments  — a worth greater than him, in the world all around him that he always disregarded and failed to see. Something beautiful, precious.

And parallel to earlier events, when Stephen once again pushes the boundaries of magic, but this time, not in pursuit of greatness of for the betterment of his own hands... he is not received with a vocal reprimandation. On the other hand...

And here we are, at the end.

Stephen says it again. “You know, you really should read everything, because the warnings come at the beginning of the books.” He pokes fun at Kaecilius, at himself, at their likeness with a humility unlike yet before.

And Wong laughs. When Stephen went through so many different things trying to make Wong laugh — like he always had his other co-workers— he didn’t. 

But when he put himself and his heart into it, he did.

And no longer is Stephen on the same path as Kaecilius, surrounded by subservient followers, who only did as he told them because of what he was after and the results he promised to be able to deliver on. Now, he surrounds himself with those who genuinely care for him for who he is. No longer is Stephen so blinded by his need to be the greatest person in the room, that he can't see the worth of those around him — of love, of friendship, of companionship.

[fanfictionsrookie]

Watch As I Overanalyze Cinder’s Fight Wit Penny...

I knew Cinder was one for dramatics, but good grief, what happened to being subtle XD

But considering the situation and the time they had left to stop Amity, this was the best course of action.

Can I tell you I screamed! Also, just a screenshot I liked. There will be a lot of them lol.

So Cinder is still holding onto her grudge with Ruby, but it was honestly for the best that she wasn’t there. Cinder would not have been able to take on Ruby and her team as well.

Now I wonder if this is Cinder projecting in some way. Not just because in terms of Salem’s plans, Cinder has been doing the heavy lifting, or at least been tasked to do so. Cinder likely sees this situation as an example. But because of the implications that Cinder as a child, was forces to so a lot of strenuous work on her own.

It’s possible that this might be more projecting, but the way Cinder says it, makes me think she sees herself more as that. Salem did tell her that she was more valuable, but she’s still just a piece in this game. Cinder might be trying to convince herself otherwise.

Have another bootiful screenshot.

Every time Neo does this... I feel things...

More screams.

So things like this suggest to me that Cinder is slowly but surely finding her way back into her comfort zone, trying to re-establish whatever sense of identity she had before volume 3. That and becoming more proficient in using her Maiden Powers, which has become a lot more personalized since volume 3/4 where she relied on fire alone.

Now I love this little reaction, because it is the moment where Cinder realises that Penny is simply distracting her from her main objective. So Cinder is starting to get a handle on her anger and is able to exploit it in a moment of clarity when she turns back. However, she still has quite a bit of growth to go through.

Just something I was wondering about. How does Penny know a person poses a threat? Does she log them into her memory so that they are much easier identifiable later on when they might be more difficult to spot?

And another thing. In this moment Cinder either priorities her mission to stop Amity, or she realises that she would have more success in stopping Penny with Emerald and Neo around.

Maria is having a field day, and I would feel bad if it wasn’t lowkey funny lol. But it’s nice to know Maria still got it. Neo was due a hit to her winning streak as well.

Sexy smirk.

But more alarmingly, that arm. Like that thing has progressed past her shoulder completely and I’m willing to bet that it is making it’s way across her back and side. Now, gauging from the shadows around the Grimm strands, we can conclude that it is not as invasive as we thought, merely anchoring itself at the edges. However, I do hope something are done about them soon, even if Cinder does not seem particularly worries about it... yet.

I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this question. As for the answer...

I. Was. Floored.

Mostly because I didn’t expect that answer at all. You could do a whole post just about those three lines. But I’ll try to be concise.

So first, Cinder does not see herself as serving Salem. This can be interpreted in a few ways.

1.)  Cinder does not see herself as bellow Salem, not far at least. Linking back to Cinder ‘being more than a pawn’ it could be that Cinder sees her affiliation to Salem as more of a mutual agreement where both parties get something out of it. As for why Salem would let her think this? I think it plays into Cinder’s fear of being controlled and taken advantage of, as she has implied to have been in the past. Thus, in order to keep Cinder under her control, Salem makes her think that she isn’t under control but rather ‘guidance’.

Cinder might be using Salem as a means of gaining power for some other goal. A goal more specific than just wanting power, or an extension thereof. Which Salem could very much be aware of. But Salem’s control over Cinder goes far past what Cinder believes or would want to. And that is why she is trying to convince herself otherwise.

2.) Cinder does not see herself as serving Salem, because she sees herself as an extension, a ‘vessel’ of Salem’s will. Now this links back to Cinder seeing herself as more useful. But this version implies an even greater loss of her identify. Cinder wants power, not just because of her fear of being powerless, but a cultivated desire to be like Salem and carry out her will. Even if they disagree on how that should be carried out. In a sense, Cinder does not see herself as serving Salem, but rather ‘becoming’ her in some way.

Have an adorably happy murder child.

Linking back to Cinder’s tactical retreat to Amity. This is the clearest example of Cinder learning from her fight with Raven. Cinder used her environment to perfectly set up a situation where Penny is near defenseless and where Cinder can go after her Maiden Powers.

Now, I have talked about the possibility of Cinder having absorbed some of Raven’s Power. But that it might not be enough to open the vault, that the scenario was simply set up as a visual cue to show HOW syphoning those Powers would work.

But this time, not only is the visual cue clear and day-light, shown longer, but it’s also front and center. Do I think that this is enough for Cinder to open the Vault?

No.

But I do hope something comes from this. CRWBY can’t keep showing us Cinder visibly taking more and more of the Maiden’s power, even if just a little bit, and not have it pay off or come around in some way. 

With just one look, Cinder and Emerald had a plan ready to go. And I wish we got more of that in this episode. I wish we had more instances of Cinder working with others, because clearly they do know how to read each other and work together. At the very least, I hope it’s a build up to what can happen in the future, because I fully expect to see much more of Emerald’s semblance.

Yes, please and thank you.

Now this scene is very familiar. And I wished that Cinder and Co would have made more use of tactics like this, even if I explained in the beginning why that opportunity went up with Amity. I did feel bad for Penny though. The memories must’ve been awful.

I will be drawing the screencap.

BABY NOOOO!

Ugh, I felt so bad for Emerald during this scene.

And I really do hope that these two get to actually talk to one another. At the very least that Cinder realises that if it weren’t for Emerald, she’d be dead. In the same vein, it’s also high time that Emerald confronts Cinder about how wrongly she has been treated. Because even when Cinder took Emerald with her, you could see that Cinder was not paying attention to either Emerald or Neo, up until the time she needed them. Which is ironic because Cinder does not seem to take notice of the things Emerald or Neo has done for her, past what Cinder expected of them. And that needs to stop.

Because you people need an unhinged Penny.

And I wonder if Penny realised it too...

That this scene is eerily similar to the one she had when she had to protect Winter.

I’ve been holding off on saying it but... gods does Cinder look sad and adorable. poor baby.

As for Neo, not only is she probably pissed that Emerald is giving her orders but that they would have to return to Salem after Cinder’s bad idea got her, and them all by extension, in an even worse position. I wouldn’t be surprised if Neo starts looking for an out soon after this.

Looks like Salem is back to petting her favourite XD

Now, how is Salem going to react to this? Because from this shot it seems like she wanted the world to know about her. If that was the case, it makes sense to tell Cinder to stay put, but then WHY NOT TELL CINDER? Salem probably does not feel the need to explain herself to others, but this whole detour could be avoided if she had just given her some kind of reasoning.

So not only will Cinder be punished for disobeying orders and failing at her task, but for setting out and doing something that goes completely against Salem’s goals. The only thing I can give for these events, is that it is continuing to drive a wedge between Cinder and Salem, whilst also demonstrating that Cinder does have her own goals and ways of thinking.

But narratively? Does it hold a lot of weight? I don’t know.

We don’t know the full extent of the message, so we don’t know if Cinder’s actions stopped another point of key information going through. Penny would have been hacked by Watts regardless. And I really did hope that Cinder would succeed, that they would have made more use of Neo and Emerald’s semblance, even if subtlety wasn’t a viable tactic. Considering that Cinder mostly relied on her own abilities, and assuming her arc is realising power does not guarantee victory, this makes sense.

But if that was CRWBY’s intent, why not demonstrate this by forcing Cinder to rely more on Emerald and Neo, past just having them to take her to safety, even if that is a big deal. Look this scene revealed a lot of not only Cinder’s way of thinking, but Penny’s as well. I just wish everything didn’t play out as straight as it felt. As for narrative outcomes, I hope we get to see more of that, and it’s not just me wanting to see Cinder taking some of Penny’s Powers, have actual consequences.

Because in terms of consequences, there could be a LOT.

Emerald finally standing up to Cinder, defecting with Neo even, Cinder getting some appreciation for Neo and Emerald, Salem punishing Cinder in a way that makes her want to break away, Cinder reliving more of her past memories, (although I feel like this will be more crumbs, leading up until the third altercation which might be the final push, because I do not feel like this is quite it), Cinder confronting Salem about her goals and why they were kept hidden from her, only for Cinder to realise that Salem does not hold her in as high regard as she thinks.

Whatever happens, I want the fall out of this to drastically change the very views Cinder established in this episode. 

I want Cinder’s disobedience in pursuit of her own goals to have drastic effects and propel her character development forward, even if Cinder is thinks that she is just taking one step back after another.

Whatever the fallout is, I am here for it.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Weekly Reviews: New Wartwood and Friend or Frobo?

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to another week’s worth of Amphibia reviews! And we got two standout episodes today as Marcy tries to home improvement her way into people’s hearts, and Polly makes friends with a destructive but endearing robot. Find out what I thought about in full under the cut!

New Wartwood: Marcy episode! Wu-hoo! And true to the show’s current status quo, and I do love how it evolves, it’s her first day in Wartwood and she’s pumped. And true to the awkward, probably autistic like yours truly, nerd we’re dealing with.. she does not make a great impression or intergrate herself to the naturally suspcious of outsiders tow. So when questioned by Anne how her day went she gets into how the town’s carefully built on a swamp.. and how the townsfolk hate her, complete with Angry Mob. Anne disperses it but it’s still the funniest moment of the episode to me, both in how a small one sprouted up so quick.. and how polly’s there despite LIKING Marcy (”I go where the mob goes anne!”). ALso i’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Anne just.. casually blushing while talking to Marcy. There’s no catalyist or any reason she would for any other reason than being sweet on her. 

So Marcy, after fixing a statue she knocked over, decides she can earn their love faster as she dosen’t want to wait.  This does get to one of Marcy’s core issues.. while she has many, like any of us, it ties back to the fact she has trouble getting this isn’t a video game. I mean she does get the diffrence between real life and a game on an objective level, but she can’t get real life dosen’t WORK like fiction, something i’ve also struggled with and can massively relate to. So she assumes helping them, via fixing up the town a bit, will make them like her. It makes them warm up a little but they still don’t. 

So naturally, who should come in by blimp to give her a tempting offer that will end badly but Mayor Toadstool! He also has a blimp now but it keeps escaping... I think I know where it went. 

So THAT’S how he can afford those things. Naturally seeing how nice Marcy made things he has a plan to exploit the hell out of her gifts with masonry to pretty up the town as a tourist attraction to make him more money. Anne talks her out of it.. but she ends up caving in the middle of the night. I also love the touch of her staying in the Fwagon, not forgetting the plantars bought it and finding a practical use for it in and out of story now i’ts no longer needed. I also love the little signs she has on it. 

The next morning the town awakes to marble pillars in front of all of the shops to make them look fancy and Marcy and the Mayor promoting the town’s new effort,s including a golden founderss tatue and a horrifying golden clock of toadstool, with Anne warry of her girlfriend’s antics. Mostly becaue you can’t force people to like you or bribe them to. Otherwise you cause the entire town to sink into the water bellow... like now. But while Marcy is now convinced the town will never accept her she still dosen’t want them all to die, and summons Joe Sparrow.. who continues to be the best thing ever added to this cast I swear to god as he helps her save the day, removing the various new things to reduce weight, saving some villiagers from a pillar (as Croaker points out their frogs ending up in the water isn’t that deadly), and getting rid of the gold monstrosities. 

So the end result is that the town is rightfully liviid, though she does genuinely appologize.. and suprisingly.. TOADSTOOL actually tries to take all the blame. The town rightfully dosen’t let him, but it’s clear he’s somehow growing as a person. Even if anne’s assement of him as “What would happen if the Monopoly Man had a Baby with a PIece of Fried Chicken” is still 100% accurate. They do agree they’ll like her with time, just like Anne, and if supscious, will gladly give her another shot. So Marcy’s learned her lesson.. always listen to your girlfriend. And while she literally fixes her damage.. the mascot toadstool hired explodes as it’s full of bugs. 

Final Thoughts on New Wartwood: This was a fun episode. A fairly simple and predictable one, but sometimes that works perfectly and this one was just damn funny, charming and full of good character stuff. Top notch. 

Friend or Frobo?:

I have a confession to make: I fricking love robots. It’s something that really HASN’T come up before, but I love a good robot. There’s just tons of good stories to be had with artifical beings, their struggles to be recongized for who they are, their cool powers, their awkward but endearing attempts to fit in with us less than deserving humans. And ficton’s had TONS and TONS of awesome ones: The Vision (in both 616 and MCU flavors), who is one of my faviorite heroes period, Red Tornado, Jenny Wakeman, Shard the Metal Sonic, BOYD, Aya, Data, Crow, Tom Servo, Gypsy, Growler, Robo, Grimlock. the list really DOES go on into infinity for me. 

WEirdly though I didn’t pay much mind to Frobo before this episode.. but with no real personality other than endearlingly running into the same obstacle for hours, and no real background yet, I didn’t really have anything to attach to other than “Cool anne’s either going to nearly get killed by a robot or get one”. But this episode changed that using the oldest trick in the book: having a child befriend it. We’ve seen it before with Sentinels, Badniks, Autobots and Iron Giants. Now we get it again with largeish frog robot. And it is pretty damn good. 

This is a Polly episode. It’s Hop Pop’s faviorite day: Seed Store Day! Naturally Marcy has come along and naturlaly she’s just as geeked out about seeds as he is because she’s precious and I must protect her from the horrible trauma her trusted father figure is about to inflict on her. Polly naturally wants to get into some shenanigans but suprisingly.. Anne and Sprig don’t wanna anymore. THey’ve learned their lesson and decide to just play video games. So polly does the resonable thing.. and blames them for some shenanigans on her part and goes out to get into more shneanigans only to find it’s lonely without a friend. 

Enter Frobo, named that because he looks like a frog and she heard the term robo from anne’s game. And despite very limited programming... Frobo is VERY loveable. As Polly notes he’s essentially a baby: he starts by mimicing her, including his horrifying but endearing laugh, and even doing her spin dash she gained a few episodes back I didn’t mention because I forgot. That one’s on me. Sprig also did the Yooka Laylee thing on top of her spin dash then so there’s that. 

Point is it’s all fun, games and heartwarming bonding till Frobo accidently floods the city and gets mobbed and one of the mobbs makes the terrible mistake of accidently kicking polly. 

He goes into Red Eye Iron Giant HOmage mode and starts fighting everybody.. including Anne and Sprig who show up to contain things, but eventually Polly wins everyone over with a heartwarming speech as she stops him, pointing out it was her fault and while he is weird, he’s just an innocent> The town.. decides why not. As the mayor points out “We already have two freaks what’s a third”. And given Marcy nearly killed them all yesterday and they begrudginly acepted her and anne did it WAY more than once and they see her as one of them, yeah they give up. 

Naturally once they get back Marcy is an easy sell. Now she can do chrono trigger cosplay! Hop Pop is a bit till it’s shown that frobo can farm super fast, and he’s part of the family now. Sprig and Anne shrug off him having come from the factory, and this surely won’t backfire on them surely. 

Final Thoughts on Friend or Frobo:

This one was excellent. The idea of Polly having to learn repsonsiblity was a nice idea, and Frobo is as I said endearing: he’s simply an innocent being who knows nothing and is slowly learning and his friendship with polly is really fucking cute. And giving him an emotional attachment to the plantars means whatevers going on with him gets higher stakes.. and given how robots are treated in fiction i’m just counting the minutes till he tragically gets blowed up real good. But until then this episode was a standout for the season. While as I made clear the “Kid befriends death machine” trope is not NEW, the baby concept made it feel fresh. It also as usual had some good jokes. 

So all in all a top notch week, really great stuff and i’ts only going to get better next time!

Nexttime: Mayor Toadstool is tempted to leave. Kay. But more importantly MADDIE EPISODE AGAIN BITCHES. AND IT HAS MARCY IT. I’M READY. 

Next On This Blog: Final Space Yo! Quinn and Gary visit earth and Tribore leaves.. again. Be here or be... elsewhere I guess

If you liked this review, follow for more, join my patreon, and comission your own review if you want via my askbox, discord and dms. See you at the next rainbow. 

[har-rison-s]

i gave you my heart

A/N: Hi! Merry Christmas, happy Boxing day and happy holidays! (if you celebrate). I've really wanted to write something about Billy from Gremlins, and I've done it. So if I have any Gremlins fans among my followers or readers, congrats!!! Happy reading! Merry Christmas! Stay safe <3

christmas masterlist

main masterlist

warnings: bit of angst, talks of gremlins, nothing else.

word count: 2.9k

song recommendation: Gremlins soundtrack + Last Christmas by Wham! for the plot :)

She was just about ready to go home after finishing cleaning up the used rooms at the youth center, she only needed to lock the last one and get her coat from the empty wardrobe. Y/N was content, feeling festive and ready for Christmas Eve and morning, ready to go home and spend the holidays with her family. Working at the youth center was mostly a volunteered action from her, because she loved to give joy to those who don't feel it or can't have it in their lives. She loved to help, her heart was pure and giving.

But going home wasn't gonna be so easy, she realised. As she was walking down the hall towards the wardrobe, near the entrance, she heard screams and splashes coming from further into the building, and Y/N froze in her tracks. She was supposed to be alone here. Who else is inside? Is someone hurt? Has someone broken in? She slowly continued her way towards the wardrobe, hoping she'll grab her coat and exit YMCA unnoticed by whoever else is in the building with her. Y/N started to feel a little scared.

Suddenly, from the door to the pool and into the hallway she was standing in, shoes squeaking and hurried breath echoing through the otherwise empty hallway, emerged Billy Peltzer. Y/N would have screamed, but seeing Billy made her so puzzled and confused she couldn't make a sound. He didn't look much out of the regular, he had his usual winter jacket on and his backpack on his shoulders, but the look on his face was something out of the ordinary. Y/N had never seen Billy with fear in his face. Mostly, she'd seen him smiling, concerned or sad. Last time she saw him, he was happy and smiling, but the last time she really saw him and talked to him, he had sadness in his features. She remembered it well, how the emotion etched itself deep into his lineament and painted itself across his beautiful eyes. It was only a few Christmases ago.

Luckily, he had something to say to disrupt the tense silence created between them and their locked eyes. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” His voice was hushed and full of worry. He made his way over to Y/N, and only then did she notice that his backpack was open and there was something peaking out of it. Her eyes landed on a furry little animal with big eyes and huge ears. Her eyebrows raised. What is Billy up to in here? “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

Seeing Billy so close to her suddenly, and so unexpectedly, was weird. Especially after she decided to write and send him a Christmas card this year, telling him, well, everything. It was a foolish decision, she knew it from the start, but she couldn't stop herself, she just had to do it. Looking into his eyes, and still not answering his questions, she wondered if he's read it already, or if he hadn't, and if he had, what did he think of it? She's certainly been stranded in an awkward situation on this year's Christmas Eve. 

“Can you hear me, Y/N?” 

“Y-Yes, I can.” She finally managed to say. Y/N noticed Billy had taken a hold of her hand as she looked down, and she quickly looked back at him. “I'm… alright. B…” She almost wanted to say his name, but it felt that she would add a great weight to it if she spoke it out loud. “But what are you doing here? It's Christmas Eve! And what's--” She didn't even know if she should say “him” or “that” or “her”, to address the little something in Billy's backpack, now looking at her with widened eyes over Billy's shoulder. Billy caught her stare and looked back at the creature.

“That's Gizmo, he's with me.” Billy gave a short answer which didn't help Y/N out much with understanding what this Gizmo was. He certainly looked cute, and not dangerous. She suddenly remembered about the sounds she heard not a minute earlier, the yells and splashes.

“I--I heard noises here. Was that you?” She questioned, her eyebrows now furrowed, and she finally gained the courage to look into Billy's eyes. They're still as capturing and familiar as they were the last time she was with him. He's still the same Billy. 

“Sort of.” Billy answered, his voice sounding rushed and strained. “But look, we have to get out of here. It's not safe.”

“Why?” She immediately questioned, mistrust figuring in her voice. Then more splashing noises, as an answer to her question, started to come from the closed pool room. Besides water, she also heard boiling and growls and scrunches and all other sorts of strange sounds. Y/N was too afraid to walk into the pool room, and she figured what Billy said about this place's safety was true, and decided that she'd trust him. “Okay.” She agreed and they headed towards the exit. But before they went outside through the door Y/N noticed was broken, she took her coat and scarf from the wardrobe. She didn't want to freeze to death outside. 

As they ran away, Y/N heard little mewls and whimpers from the creature Gizmo in Billy's backpack, and it seemed to her he'd soon fall out of it, in the incredible speed Billy was running with. She took little Gizmo in her hands and then caught up to Billy, running side by side with him. The falling snow was cold and painful against her bare hands and face, and the general cold temperature of Kingston Falls wasn't helping, either. “Where exactly are we going?” She asked him in a yell and tried to secure her scarf around herself and Gizmo for warmth. 

“My house, my car, I figure.” Billy said between his rushed breaths. They're soon reaching the end of Billy's home street. Y/N smiled to herself, remembering that German beetle car his dad gave him for high school graduation, and how it seemed to never work when he needed it to.

“And then what? What was in the pool room?” Y/N paused. “What's going on?”

Billy sighed as they reached the car, and Y/N's question was still lingering in the air. Billy put his hand on the snowy roof of his car and looked at Y/N. “We need to warn people. The whole town is in danger.” He said and opened the car door to get inside. 

“What?!” Y/N asked more herself, because Billy had already closed his door and didn't hear her. She decided to get inside, too, and she opened the passenger door and sat inside immediately. Gizmo cooed and purred in her hands, she could feel that the little guy was shaking, he was obviously scared, Y/N guessed, by whatever was inside the YMCA pool. Billy attempted to start his car as Y/N closed her door and got comfortable in the passenger seat with Gizmo in her hands. “Billy, what the hell's going on?” She repeated her earlier question, now more freaked out than before. She was in such a state of confusion, and she was a little scared by the creature in her hands, scared by Billy's behavior, scared by what could be in the pool. Billy succeeded in starting his car, and smiled to himself in victory. He looked at Y/N.

“I don't know how to explain quickly.” He said and turned on the radio, just a habit of his, she knew that well. Whether he was alone in his car or with someone, he always turned on the radio. Billy pulled out of his driveway, shaking him and Y/N and Gizmo back and forth in their seats.

“Try your best, cause I'm starting to get scared and I just want to go home!” She let panic into her voice by accident. Billy looked at her, worry across his features. No more fear, just worry. For her. For his hometown. 

“You can't go home. Not while…” he sighed, “they could attack you, they could attack your mom, your dad, whoever they please.” He said and turned his eyes back to the road ahead. Y/N's eyebrows furrowed.

“Who, Billy, who could attack me, who are you talking about?” All her questions seemed to merge into one that sounded like a ramble, but she couldn't help it. And she knew Billy would understand what she wanted to know, anyway.

“Gremlins, Y/N.” Billy said and looked at her again. “Gizmo, who you're holding, he's a mogwai--”

“Mogwai?” She echoed. Gizmo echoed the same word in a high, squeaky, adorable voice and Y/N looked down at him in response with a nervous smile on her features.

“Yes. My dad gave him to me a few days ago. There are rules you have to follow to keep a mogwai, and it feels like I've broken almost all of them.” Billy kept explaining. “Bright light is dangerous for him, but sunlight will kill him, that's the first one. Don't get him wet, don't give him water to drink, don't give him a bath - cause it turns out, they multiply if they're wet.”

“Multiply - what?! Do they, like, mate or something?”

“Not really.” Billy shook his head. “It's hard to explain, but--they just multiply with water. And third one is to never feed him after midnight. Cause if you do, they'll hatch. Similar to a butterfly's stages of life.”

“Ah, from worm to butterfly.” Y/N said and Billy nodded along. They're halfway over to the sheriff's station. “Can Gizmo turn into a butterfly?”

Billy shook his head. “They don't turn into butterflies, they turn into these… strange creatures. I don't really know how to describe them, but gremlins seems to be the right word for how they look.” He said. “Basically, a few hatched--that's what they do if you feed them after midnight--at my house because Gizmo accidentally got wet, and they were different from him. And mom killed most of them, but one got away. He has a little white stripe in the middle of his head--”

“Stripe!” Gizmo squeaked out. 

“Yes, his name is Stripe. I think he's the gremlins' leader or something, at least he seemed like one.” Billy said and shook his head again. Y/N's been completely silent while the boy talked, trying to connect the dots and stay in reality at the same time. Gremlins? Mogwai? Strange creatures? “Anyway, I followed Stripe into YMCA and he got into the pool, which means there could be… well, hundreds and thousands of them now.” Y/N uttered a whimper in the midst of her sigh. Billy gave her a momentary glance, still ever so worried about her. 

“This is a lot of information to take in in five minutes time.” She said finally, after a while of silence. She kept holding Gizmo with one of her hands while she used to other to hold her head with. Billy wanted to say he's sorry, but for what exactly he doesn't know, because the gremlins have evil minds of their own, and it wasn't exactly his fault that Gizmo got wet. But he was sorry for how Y/N feels now, and he knew he's the cause of that. She accidentally got involved with him and this whole sticky situation. Billy didn't want to cause her anymore grief. What happened a few years ago was enough. He looked at her somberly. Her wish to be safe and to be home was well-visible in her eyes. “You said that… sunlight is deadly for them?”

“Light bright! Light bright!” Gizmo squeaked from Y/N's lap, and made her laugh. He's so cute, she thought. 

“Yes. I haven't seen what happens, but dad said it'd kill them.” Billy said. 

“So we should just… No, we can't wait. We have to get them someplace, all together, and keep them there until the sun rises, no?” 

Billy shook his head. “We can't wait that long. They'll have destroyed the whole town by sunrise.”

“Damn.” Y/N cursed to herself. “God, Billy, what will we do?”

“We need to warn everyone and then we can do something, once everyone's inside.” Billy said. They finally reached the sheriff's station and Billy pulled into its parking lot, next to the sheriff's car. Silence erupted in his car when he turned off his engine and the radio, only Gizmo purring could be heard. There seemed to be a pause, a holding of breath between Billy and Y/N. They looked at each other. Billy looked pretty as ever to Y/N, his eyes determined and beautiful, still visible in the dark, and his lips slightly parted. 

“Billy.” She softly whispered, afraid he'd actually hear her, and he did. Cause he turned to her in his seat, ready to hear whatever it is she had to say to him, or ask him. A million questions are running around in her mind, each one begging to be asked, spoken out-loud. She did want to know all their answers, but she didn't have that much time now. Their lives were in danger, their families, their whole town was in danger. This wasn't the time for sentimental questions about could-have-beens that could have been if some circumstances were different. 

The event of a previous Christmas, which must have been two years back, sat in the back of both their minds. Though it was drawing closer to the front by each passing second since their meeting, rather reunion, in the YMCA building. Billy and Y/N each had their regrets about what happened, and suddenly those regrets, along with guilt, were coming back to the surface. Questions and reassurements were appearing in Billy's mind as well, and apologies and corrections, too. He had so much to say to Y/N, and she to him. They might die in the next few hours, for all they know, so why not say it all now?

“Did you… did you get my card?” Y/N asked in a soft, almost inaudible voice. Billy's lips turned into sort-of a smile. A polite one.

“I did.” He answered honestly with a nod. Y/N felt like her heart stopped in right that second. He read it? He read all of it? Tears gather in her eyes.

“Did--” she sniffled, and she felt Gizmo turning his head up to her and mewling softly, “did you read it?” Billy's lips turned into a smile. The answer seemed obvious, he nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I did.” He said and felt himself near tears, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Y/N's heart picked up speed, her eyes widened a bit. It felt like she couldn't breathe. What now? Ask more questions? Wait for Billy himself to say something? Billy shook his head and looked down. But when started to say something more, he looked at Y/N again. “You know, I… I was a bit of an idiot back in high school.” He said, guilt was written all over his face. “And reading your card… And seeing you almost every day in town--because, let's face it, our town is a small one--” Y/N laughed and brushed some tears away, “it just made me realise that more and more. And I thought, being such an idiot then, I thought I certainly don't deserve her now.” He looked right at Y/N. “I felt like I'd be too late, right guy, right feelings, just the wrong time, if I said something to you now.” He admitted. Y/N felt like she could fly right now, levitate six feet in the air. She couldn't believe she was hearing this from Billy. “It doesn't always work out right, situations like this, but… what you wrote… I know I'm not too late.” He said then. Y/N smiled a broken, tearful smile. She got so emotional because of her fear and confusion, all in under fifteen minutes. She would have never expected any of this to ever happen. 

“You're not too late.” She assured him, shaking her head softly. Their eyes locked and they finally smiled at each other, their smiles were happy and born out of pleasant emotions and feelings. Love. 

Billy leaned over his seat and the middle console, and pushed his lips softly onto Y/N's. She didn't mind, she kissed him back when she got over the fact that her long-term love, or the love of her life she would have called him, was kissing her, and he was kissing her for the first time and on his own accord. Her free hand entangled itself into his dark locks, it was something she'd always wanted to do, and now she had all the chances in the world to. Billy smiled when she did that, and kissed her again. 

Gizmo mewled and chuckled from Y/N's lap, and brought the two out of their daze and their attention back to what's going on around them. Billy and Y/N chuckled and he couldn't stop himself from giving her another kiss on the lips before they separated and began to get out of the car. “Let's save the town first.” Billy said, both of them smiling. Y/N chuckled. “Afterwards, I'm all yours.” 

Y/N laughed louder and made Gizmo smile with that. He cooed from his place in her warm hands and made the two teenagers laugh before they really got out of Billy's car. They walked to the sheriff's station hand in hand, looking at each other with pure, free love in their eyes. Maybe it won't be such a lonely Christmas after all, Y/N thought.

Permanent tag-list:  @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @beverlyparkerr @gasbomb69

A/N: Maybe I should write a sequel or prequel to this. Hmmm...

[demonslayerimagines]

So I wrote a pretty long fanfiction of @mevrouwrozestudios and I’s OCs in the Valentine Arc of the Kimetsu Academy spinoff! It’s very fluffy and romantic! This is was just for fun, but I hope you enjoy!

~ Mod Nezuko 🌸

Nonaka by @mevrouwrozestudios

Eiko by me!

Word count: 4639

Valentine’s Day Arc (Retold)

Part 1: July 1st, 2021. 8:25 am.

Nonaka Homugi was walking up to the gates of Kimetsu Academy, her hand running through her long, blonde hair. The heat made her regret walking to school that day. She lived close to the academy, but it was still a bit much to walk when the temperature was so high! Nonaka walked through the gates with a group of students, looking around for her best friend. As she walked into the school, people seemed to still be talking about Valentine’s Day and White Day. Nonaka sighed, not really enjoying the romantic holidays this year. She didn’t give out any chocolates to any boys on Valentine’s Day. She just wasn’t really interested in anyone in her grade. She had received some chocolates on White Day, but she didn’t want to accept them. None of the guys were really her type or really jumped out at her. Nonaka straightened out her cardigan as she approached her locker, ready to start another day.

Nonaka got the things she needed for her classes and went up the stairs towards her homeroom. Class 2-A, being a 2nd year. Rengoku was standing next to the door, loudly welcoming students that walked by! Some of the female students giggled and blushed as they stopped to talk with him. Nonaka walked past and into the room, heading for her desk. She sat in the back corner near the window, showing a view of the front gate. On the desk in front of hers, was a little gift box with a little note on top of it. Another love letter and gift for Eiko Morioka. Nonaka looked around and noticed a tall boy in the front row that kept looking back at Eiko’s desk. One of many admirers for sure.

As if on cue, Eiko entered the classroom. She was wearing her usual uniform with her red jacket tied around her waist. Her fluffy brown hair with pink tips was bouncing as she walked in. Eiko was also curvy, but took care of her weight. Her cute looks were VERY popular with the boys which made almost every moment with Eiko feel like White Day. She saw Nonaka, smiling wide as she walked over to her desk. “Nonaka! Good morning!” Eiko said melodically. Nonaka smiled back at her friend, “Good morning, Eiko. It looks like you have a little something on your desk” Nonaka’s tone was teasing as Eiko sat down and read the note that was covered in heart stickers. Nonaka knew how this would turn out when she saw Eiko read the note and not become completely flustered. Eiko loved all types of romance and had the idea of meeting her soulmate in her mind. Nonaka knew that she wanted a handsome and noble prince to sweep her off her feet! Whenever Eiko talked about it, she’d blush hard and would almost stop functioning. She wouldn’t accept anything less, it was her dream after all!

Before the guy could get up and walk over to Eiko, Rengoku entered the classroom to begin homeroom attendance and announcements. Nonaka almost felt bad for him, knowing what would happen when he would approach Eiko. She couldn’t bash her friend for knowing what she wanted though, if only Nonaka could figure it out herself.

~~~~~

12:00 pm.

It was finally lunch time! Nonaka stretched her arms, feeling groggy after listening to lecture after lecture. Eiko got her bento box from her beige tote bag and began to eat. Nonaka did the same, grabbing her lunch from her pink bag. As the two of them talked about tests coming up, the tall boy walked back to them. He was looking down, not looking Eiko in the eyes and was soft spoken. The guy was rubbing his hands together in a nervous way. “E-Eiko...Um you read my note right? What do you think?” he asked. Eiko’s face was neutral as she grabbed the gift and note and held them up to him. “I’m afraid I cannot accept. Thank you, but I need to focus on my schooling” The boy shakily grabbed his note and unopened gift and walked back to his desk, defeated. Eiko keeping her reputation of rejecting every boy who confessed to her.

Eiko sighed, but turned back to Nonaka, “Boys…” Nonaka gave her a soft smile, “Hey, maybe you should give some of these guys a chance. I mean they really like you and you could go on some free dates!” Eiko blushed lightly, but shook her head, “You know I need to find my prince charming! A guy who looks me in the eyes and speaks clearly and follows me into the unknown and will protect me!” Eiko blushed hard at the thought and covered her face! “You’re such a hopeless romantic! I wish I had your dreamy attitude” Nonaka answered with a giggle. The two girls giggled and finished up their lunches.

~~~~~

12:45 pm.

A tone played through the speaker system, letting everyone know it was break time. Eiko and Nonaka went separate ways, Nonaka walking down to go to the school garden. She was the president of the gardening club and spent almost all her time there. As she approached the main steps, she heard two guys talking at the bottom of the stairs. A first year and second year, she recognized the second year to be the moral compass officer who was at the front gate almost every morning. Was his name Zenitsu? Oh, and the first year was named Tanjiro! He always wore strange earrings! His sister, Nezuko, had her own spot in the school garden and he’d come by to get her occasionally.

“Are you listening, Zenitsu? Let’s go apologize to Mr. Rengoku” Tanjiro asked in a worried tone. Zenitsu looked very down with a dark aura around him. “SHUT UP! HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL DOING ALL THIS?!” Zenitsu screamed, wildly, almost making Nonaka drop her bag! She huffed, not having time for this and went for a separate set of stairs at the end of the hall. Still hearing Zenitsu’s screams as she walked away. What a weirdo…

~~~~~

12:50 pm.

Nonaka finally made it to the gardens in the back of the school. Nonaka loved it there, it was probably the calmest part of the school. No one else seemed to be there at the moment, so Nonaka rolled up her sleeves and got to work. Filling her watering can with water from a hose nearby and watering her hydrangeas, irises, and her rose bushes. Nonaka’s rose bushes were her pride and joy! She had pink roses, red roses, and white roses! She hummed softly, as she gave her thirsty plants plenty of water. Nonaka stopped for a moment then heard some loud thumping that seemed to be coming closer.

Nonaka looked up at the entrance gate to the garden and saw something slightly scary. There was a shirtless boy standing there, trying to catch his breath. That alone wouldn’t be too bad, but on top of his head was a boar mask! It looked realistic with tusks and intense blue eyes! Nonaka yelped, “W-Who are you?!” The guy perked up when he saw her and ran up to her, holding her hands in his! “Senpai! Hide me!” the guy screamed! Nonaka stood there, blushing slightly as he squeezed her hands. Nonaka couldn’t say that he didn’t look attractive, at least what she could see of him. This guy seemed to be in his first year. He also had this chaotic energy surrounding him. Nonaka’s heart was beating fast just from being close to him.

Nonaka opened her mouth to ask questions, but the two of them heard loud running getting closer. The guy let go, panicking and jumped into one of the large rose bushes! Nonaka’s eyes widened, mouth agape! H-He jumped into a ROSE BUSH! THAT HAD TO HURT! Quickly looking back at the entrance to the garden, Nonaka saw their math teacher Mr. Shinazugawa. He was out of breath and put his hand up, “H-Have you seen a shirtless kid?...His name is Inosuke! He’s wearing a boar helmet!” Nonaka quickly shook her head, “I-I don’t think so...Or um...I think I saw him going into the practice building?” Mr. Shinazugawa smirked, regaining energy as he ran like a mad man towards the practice building on the other side of the school.

Nonaka took a breath of relief then looked back at the red rose bush that the first year had jumped into. His name was Inosuke, huh? She pushed aside the branches and saw him lying there, some of the thorns had scratched into his arms, but otherwise he seemed fine. “That was quite reckless, Inosuke!” Nonaka scolded as she grabbed his arm and pulled him out of her beautiful red rose bushes! As she did, his boar mask fell off from her forcefulness. Now the two were eye to eye, close as she kept a grip on his arm. His sparkling emerald green eyes looking into her brown ones. He...HE WAS GORGEOUS! Black hair with blue tips that went down to his shoulders. His eyelashes were long and gave him a graceful look. Nonaka was blushing very hard, reminding herself of how Eiko was earlier. She felt as if her heart was thumping out of her chest! Was this her prince charming moment?!

Inosuke tilted his head while looking at her, blushing slightly. Inosuke couldn't stop looking at her with her long blonde hair which shone in the summer sun. He smiled wide at her though and grabbed his helmet, “Thanks! I’ll be sure to visit more often when I get in trouble!” Inosuke nodded at her and was about to leave. Nonaka got out of her own head and once again noticed his scratches from the thorns. “W-Wait! You got hurt!” Nonaka spoke up and ran to her tote bag. Inosuke turned back, curiously. As she dug through the bag, Inosuke got closer and saw a little pig charm on the zipper of the bag. Inosuke blushed hard, this girl was extremely cute…

Nonaka grabbed a box of bandages from her bag, they had little cutesy cartoon characters on them. She had them just in case someone got hurt while touching the roses, so this was the perfect time to use them. She patted the ground next to her and Inosuke sat down. Nonaka unwrapped a few bandages and began to put them on the few scratches that Inosuke gained from his hiding place. Inosuke glanced at her occasionally as she hummed. After a few minutes she was finished bandaging him, his arms covered with brightly colored bandages.

It looked a little silly, but Inosuke smiled wide and flexed his arms. “Thanks! Now I’m super colorful!” Inosuke exclaimed, making Nonaka giggle. “So...What’s your name?” Inosuke asked, glancing to the side. “I’m Nonaka. I’m the president of the garden club” Nonaka said with a shy smile. Inosuke nodded, giving her a large smile as he replaced the boar mask on his face, “Nonaka! I promise to return to repay you for helping me!”

Nonaka had a love struck smile as he ran back toward the school building. The words of his promise in her mind as she plucked one of the red roses. She held it to her chest as she took a deep breath and let out a dreamy sigh. It’s a date~

~~~~~

Part 2: July 3rd, 2021. 4:30 pm.

Eiko had just finished washing all the dishes in her clubroom. It had been a great club activity where everyone learned how to bake homemade cheesecake! Eiko licked her lips thinking about it, but that had ended around 4 pm. Eiko was the president of the home economics club. The activities included learning to cook, sew, and how to perform childcare. It was a small club with only four other girls apart from Eiko, but she didn’t mind. That did mean though that Eiko would end up being the last one in the club room, cleaning up.

Eiko took one last look at the clubroom then shut the door behind her. She looked out the back window at the garden club and noticed that Nonaka was there with a boy! He was shirtless and was that a boar mask? Nonaka looked happy though, which made Eiko smile. She had always been a fan of love, reading fairy tales when she was young and always hearing her parent’s love at first sight story. Eiko knew her idea of love was very girly and a bit childish, but she believed in it with her whole heart! Eiko always felt bad rejecting guys who were so straightforward about their feelings to her, but she never felt that shy sweetness within her when they confessed. This gave her a bad reputation with some boys lying and saying she lead them on or spreading rumors that she was heartless and played with other people’s feelings for fun. Soon guys were trying to get with her just because she was unattainable...Just so they could say that they dated her to brag to their friends...

Eiko sighed, remembering the note she had gotten earlier that week. It read, ‘Dear, Eiko. I know you say no to every guy, but you should say yes to me! I’m nice and I’ll give you tons of gifts! You should lower your expectations a little if you ever wanna be with someone. I love you and we’d be a great couple! Everyone would talk about us. Please let me know how you feel-’ Eiko couldn’t even read the rest of it. The note pissed her off, but she was as nice as she could be when rejecting him. Eiko didn’t want to be miserable because of others and kept her cheery demeanor the best she could.

Eiko shook her head, not wanting to think about it any longer. She reached her locker and put some of her books away. She turned around, closing and locking her locker behind her as she walked out of the school. Her older brother, Kasuhiko, was probably waiting at the train station for her. The kendo club usually ended before hers and her brother was always going ahead of her. Eiko walked towards the main gate, in her own mind. Unknowing, to her that she was being watched from the side by a strange figure.

Eiko passed the gate, but was stopped with a guy walking in front of her. He was the tall guy from her class, he stood in her way and looked down on her with a desperate look. Eiko gave her usual smile, panicking inside, “H-Hey, Daichi, right?” Daichi huffed, “Stop acting coy. You humiliated me in front of the class! What they say about you is true!” Eiko sighed and tried to go around him, but Daichi stepped in her way again. “Let me pass. I’m not interested in being a popular couple or whatever you wanted” Eiko spoke up, trying to find a way out of this situation. Daichi pushed her up against the stone gate though, hand gripping her shoulder hard. “I’ll let you pass for a kiss. You owe me that much” Daichi was more threatening now, Eiko not strong enough to push him back. She was paralyzed with fear, knowing he would gossip about them kissing if she allowed it. The fear welled up inside her, tears in the corner of her eyes.

Suddenly, a flash of yellow was in front of her! Pushing Daichi away and putting distance between Eiko and him. The figure held his hands up and waved them wildly, screaming, “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?! THAT’S NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” The yelling seemed to scare Daichi and he ran away. Eiko sniffled and stared at her hero. The figure turned around and Eiko suppressed the urge to laugh. Covering her mouth as she looked him up and down. This guy was wearing name brand sneakers, black sweats, a blue shirt with a popped collar and a white track jacket on top. He had blonde hair, but he had a weird cardboard headband on. His face was also obscured by large sunglasses and a medical mask. Eiko looked at his arms and they were covered with fake name brand watches. He was also gripping money in his right hand.

He breathed heavily, probably running over to help her as fast as he could. Before Eiko could speak up, the figure spoke loudly and clearly, “Hello! I hope you’re alright!” He stopped speaking abruptly and stared Eiko in the eyes. She blushed lightly, smiling, “Y-Yes! Thank you, sir” It was still quiet, looking at Eiko. If this was any other situation, she might’ve been creeped out, but he had saved her from a creep! Eiko felt warm inside, a wave of relief washing over her. A sense of calm with him near her. “W-Well I must be heading to the station. My brother is waiting for me” Eiko said as she started walking. To her surprise, the guy began to follow her. Aw, he must be shy! He must be making sure that she gets there safely! Eiko shly covered her cheeks as she blushed more. WHAT A GENTLEMAN!

Zenitsu didn’t know why he had started following her for this long. Maybe he was just relieved that she wasn’t running away screaming? Zenitsu was blushing hard, he didn’t know what was coming over him. That jerk was just doing whatever he wanted and it filled Zenitsu with a strange sense of justice! He had to rush in there and save this beautiful girl! And she was very beautiful...Zenitsu heard of Eiko before. They were in the same grade and he had noticed her before. She was just as pretty up close as she was across the hall, but he heard how she always rejected men and broke hearts for fun, but looking at her closely he thought, ‘How could this cute, gentle face be like that…” Perhaps she was putting an act on, but she was treating him with kindness without even knowing who he really was. Zenitsu wanted to hold her hand and reassure her that she was safe now. Zenitsu felt his heart pounding harder, his lips sealed, unable to even mutter a thing to her. He would overheat if he stayed near her like this any longer!

As Eiko made it to the station, she noticed that he had begun running back to the school! He was fast! Eiko thought about his strange behavior for a moment and her body felt light. The summer breeze brushing her fluffy hair into her face...She had to know who he was…

~~~~~

July 4th, 2021. 8:30 pm.

“AND he ran into the sunset! He wanted to make sure I made it to the station safely and was even too shy to say goodbye!” Eiko said as she was explaining to Nonaka what had happened yesterday evening. “He sounds a little strange, but I’m glad he was there to help you. If I see Daichi in here, I’m giving him a piece of my mind!” Nonaka answered, puffing her cheeks out cutely.

Daichi didn’t show up for class though as Mr. Renguko entered the class to begin announcements. “Class! I have some important news! Please pass this flyer around. A pervert has been showing up in the evening and only goes after girls. Please stick together and be careful” Mr. Rengoku exclaimed as he gave out the orange flyer. Eiko took one and gasped loudly, “Th-This is my prince?!” The flyer showed a picture of the exact man who had saved her last night. No! This had to be a misunderstanding! Eiko decided right there that she would find out who this guy was! Nonaka saw the resolve in her friend’s eyes and tried extremely hard to break out into laughter! The two had to agree that the blonde hair did look familiar though...But who?...

~~~~~

February 14th, 2022. 8:25 am.

Eiko walked up to the gate, in her hands was a heart shaped box! It was full of homemade chocolate for her prince! It had been almost a year and she still had no idea who that guy could’ve been! She tried to stay after school as long as she could! Hoping he would show up again and she could figure out who he was, but no dice. She then tried asking around the school, but everyone thought she was weird for trying to figure out who the ‘pervert’ was. It was a bunch of dead ends, but Eiko knew that today was the day!

Nonaka walked beside her, her own little blue box in hand. She had made her own chocolates for the boy she had been crushing on for almost a whole year! Inosuke! The troublemaker who would always come to her for help. Inosuke even visited the gardening club before going home to see what was growing. Nonaka thought maybe he felt the same way about her too!

The two girls, with determination in their eyes, passed by the school gate. Unknowingly being watched by Zenitsu. His heart fluttered as he watched Eiko, he developed a deep crush for her after that summer day. Zenitsu had heard that Eiko was looking for the ‘pervert’, but didn’t approach her. He knew that she was going to yell at him and think he was such a creep for that day! Just thinking about the rejection was filling him with dread. He knew he had to keep his distance even if he didn’t want to. Not to mention, Eiko could pick any guy she wanted...Zenitsu knew he didn’t have a chance…Another failed Valentine’s Day...

~~~~~

4:00 pm.

Nonaka was ready, she had sent home the club early to go on dates and to be with their boyfriends or girlfriends. This was also because she wanted to make sure that she was alone with Inosuke! She wouldn’t have the courage to tell him otherwise! She was going to be graceful and tell him in a way that he couldn’t say no!

Inosuke ran up to the entrance gate of the school garden. “OI! NONAKA!” Inosuke yelled, startling Nonaka from her thoughts. His shirt all the way unbuttoned as usual, but this time he took his boar mask off in front of her. Inosuke was so used to Nonaka by now that he didn’t feel the need to hide his face. Her cheeks turned as red as a strawberry. Oh lord, she wasn’t ready!

Inosuke walked up to her with a smile, ready to tell her all about the mischief he was in that day. Before he knew it though, Nonaka was holding out her small blue box with a silver ribbon tied in a bow around it. “U-Um, I made this for you!” Nonaka stumbled through her words, feeling a bit foolish. Inosuke tilted his head and opened the box. A heart shaped chocolate was in the box, a red rose made of white chocolate was lovingly made in the middle.

Nonaka held her breath as he picked it up. She watched as Inosuke ate the chocolate quickly with a grin. “S-So?...” Nonaka asked, shyly. Inosuke looked at her questionably, “So what? It was good chocolate!” Nonaka’s eyes widened, “Inosuke...Do you know what today is?” Inosuke looked up, thinking, “It’s a Monday!” Nonaka huffed, of course he wouldn’t know what Valentine’s Day was! “Inosuke, today is Valentine’s Day. It’s a day where you give gifts to people that you love” Inosuke’s eyes widened as if a lightbulb went off in his head! Nonaka found herself being lifted into a hug by Inosuke. He joyfully spinned with her, “YOU LOVE ME, NONAKA!” Nonaka found herself giggling from his happiness.

Inosuke stopped spinning and nuzzled his head close to hers, “I love you too, Nonaka. Oh! I need to give you a gift!” Inosuke quickly plucked a flower from nearby and held it out for her. Nonaka smiled and gave him a peck on the lips. She’d have to teach him about White Day too!

~~~~~

4:15 pm.

Eiko had been around all day, asking ANYONE who the man in the sunglasses was. No luck though. Eiko decided to give up, maybe she was never meant for true love. Walking out the back door of the school, she noticed a blonde guy sitting against the wall near some of the cherry blossom trees that were getting ready to sprout. She saw him looking sad with his knees to his chest. She began to walk closer to where he was and noticed it was Zenitsu! He was in her grade! She always thought he was pretty funny if not a bit loud in the halls. He was also head of the morals comitee! So dedicated that he was always at the front gate! Maybe he knew who she was looking for!

As Eiko moved closer, Zenitsu’s eyes widened, noticing her coming his way! Did Tanjiro tell her that he was the one she was looking for?! Zenitsu felt himself panicking internally at each step she took, getting closer to him! He could still run away! Yeah! Just run away! Zenitsu was paralyzed though as Eiko was right in front of him. “Hi...Why are you sitting alone by yourself?” Eiko asked, softly. Zenitsu still wanted to run, but his mouth opened and seemed to be on autodrive as he spoke. “I um...I just didn’t receive chocolates from anyone, again. Kinda sad that I decided to mope about it, huh?” Zenitsu said with a small, sad smile. Eiko sat down next to him, a bit too closely. Zenitsu glanced to the side, trying not to stare. She smelled sweet though, like sugar and vanilla, making Zenitsu even more flustered. Eiko sighs, “I couldn’t find my pr-...my crush. Maybe he wasn’t even real. Kinda poetic, huh?” Eiko giggled, weakly. Zenitsu chuckled with her, but was surprised when she held her heart shaped box to him.

“Oh, n-no! I can’t! I mean, that was for your crush!” Zenitsu waved his hands in a dismissive way! Eiko just smiled, cutely, melting Zenitsu’s heart. Zenitsu grabbed the box and opened it. It was a heart shaped chocolate with pink ‘Thank You’ written in cursive with white chocolate on top. “You know that guy that people were calling a pervert? Well I met him! He actually helped me and I wanted to thank him, He saved me from-” Without thinking, Zenitsu interrupted her, “From a really rude guy. He was trying to force you to give him a kiss and I rushed in and scared him away. I kinda also got him expelled too. I mean they believed me because I’m in the moral committee and he admitted to doing it so it was an open and shut case-” Zenitsu looked up from the chocolate at Eiko. Her eyes were wide, sparkling and full of life. Zenitsu tensed and his face turning red, “I-I-I’m sorry! I-I-I-I mean! I didn’t! I-I-I-I-” Eiko leaned forward quickly and hugged him tightly, “It’s you! It was always you!”

Eiko, with her new found courage, pulled back and kissed Zenitsu quickly. When she pulled back, Zenitsu was smiling wide and looked dizzy. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me! K-Keep the chocolate, please!” Eiko covered her cheeks, flustered and a bit embarrassed. Zenitsu leaned closer, “Eiko-chan~” He took her hands and moved them away from her face, admiring her closely. “I will always protect you, Eiko-chan! From now on, ok?” Zenitsu said, dreamily. Eiko sighed, lovingly as she leaned in to kiss him again.

[five-rivers]

Family

Sequel to ‘Mask.’

.

.

.

It was amusing, watching Daniel eat like this.

Vlad had decided to institute a tradition of family mealtimes, and had decanted Daniel from the containment unit about thirty minutes previously. Daniel had been sulky, at first, saying that Vlad should have given him more warning and attempting to fend off the wheelchair Vlad had procured for him. But his strength had been insufficient to the task, and, once Vlad had wheeled him into the other half of the basement, where he had created a luxurious but secret home for his children, he had fallen into a contented and obedient stupor once again.

An adjustment to the flow of his ectoplasm IV perked him up just enough to allow him to attempt to eat breakfast. Attempt. Poorly. He was obviously as ravenous as he was exhausted, but he was equally uncoordinated. He only got a forkful of pancakes to his mouth every third attempt at best.

"Father," said Danielle, tugging at his sleeve. She was, more often than not, the spokesperson for her siblings. "Is Danny alright?"

Vlad nodded, absently. "What he is doing is very difficult, my dear, but he will come to no lasting harm." Perhaps he should allow Daniel to eat separately, after this.

"He won't melt?"

"No, no, he's quite stable. You needn't worry about that. He is simply tired, and his mind is otherwise occupied. Imagine if you were trying to, say, set the table while reading four books at once. Your coordination might suffer, too, hm?"

His children nodded. "That makes sense," said Dmitri, adjusting his eye patch. "I guess we didn't think of it that way."

Vlad gave his son an indulgent smile. "You are young, Dmitri. You don't have to think of everything."

Dmitri nodded, and then said, wistfully, "I don't suppose we're still following the schedule?"

"I'm afraid not," said Vlad. "You, of course, can continue with the activities I planned, but Daniel won't be able to." Four of the five children at the table sighed. Daniel continued to struggle with his breakfast. "But you may be able to meet David soon. His stabilization has been progressing nicely."

This pronouncement was greeted with smiles and cheers. Damien reached over and hugged Dmitri. Daniel jumped and dropped his fork.

He made a very small, upset fweh sound and stared angrily at his plate.

Vlad regarded him with a sigh. While family mealtimes were good for his children, for their social skills, their stability, and for their bond with Daniel, they would not suffice for getting Daniel the nutrients he needed. True, they could be supplemented intravenously, or with a feeding tube, but Vlad didn't want to resort to that just yet.

Dustin reached over to Daniel's plate and began to cut up Daniel's pancakes. He speared some on the end of the fork and offered them to Daniel, who took them with a kind of blurred dignity. Vlad had to cover his mouth. It wouldn't do to laugh at Daniel being hand-fed like a small child. Yet.

.

Danny was wheeled out of the underground dining room and his brain sluggishly began to work again. "Are they okay?" he asked.

"Hmm?" said Vlad.

"Being apart."

"For now. A few hours with you a day should keep them from deteriorating further. Once David has reached their level of stability, you will be able to spend much more time with them." Vlad ruffled Danny's hair and Danny hummed. Then he realized how wrong that was and scowled.

Vlad walked over to the tube Danny had been in for the last several hours and started adjusting things.

Danny shifted uncomfortably in the chair; he was still too woozy to try to walk. "Vlad?"

"Yes? What?"

"Do we- Can we do something different? Not that."

"Oh?" Vlad turned to face him. "I would have thought that you would have wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. This is the fastest way."

Danny shrugged. He didn't really want to explain to Vlad how unnerving being in the tube had been.

Vlad drummed his fingers on the side of the tube and contemplated Danny. "There are a few other things we could try."

Danny nodded. "Good. Right. Before we start, though, um, I don't suppose you have a bathroom down here?"

.

"Do I have to be strapped down?" asked Danny.

"Daniel," said Vlad, "you agreed to cooperate."

"Yes, with stabilizing Ellie, Dustin, Dmitri, Damien, and David," said Danny. "Not with letting you tie me up so you can bully me into doing things." Never mind that he wouldn't be able to resist whatever Vlad wanted from him, anyway. He was too weak.

"I don't want you to damage yourself by falling off the table, hitting yourself during a seizure, or falling under the ectoplasm and doing your best impression of drowning," said Vlad. "You can't actually drown, of course, but the fact remains that these are all experimental procedures."

Danny shuddered at the word experiment. He'd been half-ghost for long enough for that word to sink into his subconscious and give him nightmares. "But are they necessary?"

"I suppose not," admitted Vlad. He approached Danny with two quick strides and knelt in front of him. He held up an object that looked like a thick bolt with a thick cable running from one end. "This needs to make contact with your core."

"You're joking."

"No. The idea is to strengthen and more directly transmit your ectosignature."

Danny bit his lip. He knew exactly how something touching your core felt, thanks to Dan. "Maybe you had better strap me down."

.

They fell into a sort of routine. For most of the day and night, Danny would soak in an ectoplasm bath, connected to David. At regular intervals Vlad would wake him up, convince him to exercise a small amount, and then bring him to the other side of the basement, where the other clones lived.

At one point, Vlad had handed Danny a phone and he'd had a very confused conversation with his sister. He'd tried to communicate what was happening to her, and that she should call Sam and Tucker, but he'd just finished a disorienting stabilization session, and he wasn't sure how clear he'd been.

Danny didn't know if Vlad had kept up his other promise, to keep Amity Park safe, but, honestly, most of the time he was too tired to even care. Which was sort of disturbing in the moments he did have energy to care.

Also, whenever he was awake he was hungry. Ravenous. It was weird. His food intake had increased after the accident, but he knew he had never eaten this much every day before. But he wasn't gaining weight. He was losing it.

Danny woke up to Vlad undoing his restraints. "Izzit time t'eat?" he asked.

"Soon," said Vlad. "David is ready."

"Oh," said Danny, with vague interest. He sat up and leaned on the side of the tub he was in. Ectoplasm lapped around his thighs.

Slowly, Vlad decanted David from the tube, first draining away the ectoplasm and then rinsing David off with a stream of water from the top of the tube. He opened the tube up, and began to detach him from the various wires and leads. As he did so, David began to wake, stirring and humming. Finally, after Vlad disconnected the last wire, David opened his eyes and smiled. Danny's lips mirrored the motion.

He was happy. David was family, clone or not.

.

The next meal was more confusing than usual. His eyes were having trouble focusing, and the conversation around him was nothing more than a smear of noise. Everyone was happy, though, so that was good.

To Danny's dull surprise, Vlad did not take him back out to the lab, but instead to a different room. This was different. And upsetting. He frowned. This room was bright colors and soft shapes. Vlad took him out of the wheelchair and set him on the floor.

Again, this was different. Why was it different? He couldn't think. He didn't like this.

Then all his siblings came close, and he found himself in the middle of a cuddle pile. Oh! This was nice. Danny closed his eyes and let himself relax the rest of the way.

.

"Now, children," said Vlad, after he was quite certain both that his children would be gentle with Daniel and that Daniel was firmly asleep, "I will be leaving Daniel with you during the day, but I need you to follow certain rules. First, Daniel must stay below ground. Second, at least three of you must stay with Daniel at all times." He rather suspected that none of them would let Daniel leave their sight, at least for the near future, but that was the number he had calculated would keep Daniel in a docile state. "Thirdly, if any of the alarms go off, you must fetch me at once. Finally, and this is very important, when he is awake, I want you to try to talk him into staying with us. You remember those videos I showed you, yes?"

David looked confused, but all the others nodded.

"They were so mean to him," said Dustin.

"They shot at him!" added Ellie.

"You're not like that at all, Father," said Damien. "I can't believe those people are his parents!"

Vlad smiled. "David, I will show you the videos at a later time. For now, get to know your siblings."

David nodded vigorously. He hadn't quite gotten the hang of talking, yet.

Vlad left for the lab, humming. Yes, his little family was shaping up nicely. If he could get Daniel to join it with some subliminal messaging and the well-meaning pressure of the clones, well, that would just be icing on the cake, wouldn't it?

[haunted-by-catholic-guilt]

Now I Remember It Doesn't Take Much To Make Me Feel Small

birthday fic for my platonic soul mate @hangon-toyourself where we project onto tim

i love you so much vesper!!!

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TW EATING DISORDERS AND WEIGHT MENTION

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Tim Stoker was a happy man.

He wore what he wanted and he was loud and proud about everything.

That’s what he displayed, at least.

That’s not what he felt.

Especially the bad days.

He didn’t really remember when it started, but he remembers when it got bad.

When he passed out and the first thing he was Danny’s crying face above him.

When Danny spent hours with Tim at the table, talking to him and encouraging him.

And after a long time, he got better.

Not perfect, but better.

And then Danny died.

Tim, through some miracle, managed not to relapse as hard as he thought he would.

Eating was harder but more because so was getting out of bed, so he didn’t really lose or gain weight.

But for some reason, now was the point his brain decided it was time to look in the mirror and nearly punch it, and to look in the mirror and cry, and to step on his scale he buried away to the back of his closet and felt his heart stop at the numbers.

He looked in the mirror, his shirt was off and he stood only in his boxers, and he traced the stretch marks on his side, and the scars lining his hip.

God, he was disgusting, how did people even look at him?

He shook off the feelings and stepped away from the bathroom, grabbing an oversized shirt cardigan, and jeans combo that buried him in the size.

He walked to work that day, and didn’t stop for a pastry or coffee.

Work was slow, it was a Friday and all there was finishing up that week’s files and, typically, annoying Sasha and Jon to go out for drinks.

Soon enough lunch rolled around, and it had become an archival tradition to order in food on Fridays, and it was Martin’s week to pick.

Tim put on his best smile and sat on the taller man’s desk.

“Hey, Marto- What’re you plannin for lunch today?”

Martin smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“Hmmmm maybe the cafe down the block? They have nice soup and sandwiches”

Tim quickly ran through his repertoire of calories he had memorized, chicken noodle soup was normally around three-hundred and fifty calories.

He could work with that.

“-Tim, Tim!”

He snapped back into attention to Martin waving his hand in front of him, concern on his face.

“Tim are you alright?”

Tim chuckled and slid off the desk.

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry about that, just tired.”

He recognized the shake in his own voice.

“I’m here if you need to talk alright? We can order soon.”

He flashed a smile and was on his way.

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

A month passed, eating as little as he could, fasting for up to a week at one point broken only when Martin bought him food.

He felt like shit but god was he happy.

His throat burned with acid, he was cold and dizzy and he still looked the same.

He stepped on the scale and felt almost happy, but more so determination and a slight mix of anger.

He’d been “skinny” before, according to others, and by his height, he wasn’t overweight but he knew.

52.3 kg

Not small enough.

He sighed and slipped on the same jeans, t-shirt, and cardigan combo he remembered wearing the day this started, now ten times too big on him, and left for work.

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

To say Martin was concerned is an understatement.

Something was wrong with Tim and damn if he didn’t find what.

Of course, he had some vague idea.

He just hoped it wasn’t.

Tim walked in, oversized sweater, looking sick, and eye bags that rivaled Jon in their intensity.

“GoodMorning Martin.”

Martin smiled at him, a sad smirk, Tim was holding a thermos, and he looked so… empty

“Morning, how’re you today?”

“Good, and yourself?”

Martin decided then he would take Tim out for drinks or invite him over for a movie.

“Just fine, thank you… Hey Tim? Would you like to come over tonight and watch a movie with me? I don’t like watching horror movies alone, Ill order in some food from the Italian place you like.”

Tim visibly froze and calculated his options, and Martin hated how he recognized it instantly.

“Sounds good, does seven work?” Martin nodded and they set to work for the day, inviting Sasha to come along, she accepted the offer and before they knew it, it was time to go home. With a farewell and a promise to see each other later, they were off. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim was fucked.

Astronomically fucked.

Martin invited him over for food and he was fucked.

He took a breath, first step was a game plan then decide what to order for dinner that was low-cal, then go to the gym and work out so he didn’t gain as much.

Hours passed, working out at the gym, and before he knew it was seven, time for hell.

He was at Martin’s door and he heard Martin and Sasha speaking in low and hushed tones, Martin sounded upset and Sasha seemed stress.

I shouldn't be here.

He knocked on the door anyway.

Martins’s voice was muffled but he heard a quiet call that he was on his way, and for a split second Tim seriously considered running, but before he knew it Martin was opening the front door.

“Hey! Food’s inside!”

Fuck.

He was ushered inside and sat on the couch, Martin handed him his food and a water, he felt the couch dip next to him on both sides, and was vaguely aware of Martin and Sasha eating their own food, he knew what was inside, it was what he always ordered, an alfredo dish, and he honestly couldn’t handle it.

“Tim? Are you gonna eat?”

Martins soft voice broke the dam behind his eyes, and before he knew it he was crying.

“I- I- I can’t”

Someone took the food out of his hands, and he was slowly enveloped in a hug.

“It’s alright, I know, it’s okay.”

He pushed off Martin, not being able to handle the thought of someone feeling him and he quickly stood up-

And then darkness.

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

Martin knew he was going to go down as soon as he stood up.

He quickly caught him and lifted him- god he was light- and laid him on the couch, while Sasha adjusted his legs to be on her lap.

“I’ll be right back.”

Martin left the living room, and grabbed a small juice box from the fridge, and he took a breath.

Fuck.

He composed himself before stepping back into the living room, where Tim was stirring, he stepped over and got the juice box ready.

“Hey, Tim, drink this, you’ll feel better.”

He kept his voice level and soft, non-judgemental, and calm.

Tim obliged when he was back to being conscious, he looked disoriented and cold, Martin wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and ran fingers through his hair.

When Tim came to and realized what happened, he shot up, but was pushed back down by Martin which he didn’t mind because, wow, were rooms supposed to spin that fast?

He sat up slowly after a second before the realization set in of horrific embarrassment of oh shit I just passed out and am laying on Martin’s couch.

“I-I’m sorry”

Martin shushed him and Sasha rubbed his back while he sobbed into Martin’s shirt, after the shorter man stopped crying, Martin decided it was time for a talk.

“Tim.. do you want to tell us why? We won’t judge you, I’ve struggled with it my whole life too.”

“I-I don’t know. Maybe because I’m… ugly? Because I’m not worth it?”

Martin felt his heart break, and Sasha looked close to tears, she pulled Tim close to her and was horrified to feel just how frail he was like that.

“Tim, sweetheart, you deserve food, I don’t know who made you think otherwise, but I’ll hurt them and make them regret ever talking to you.”

Tim struggled a bit, almost as if trying to get away from her but sunk back into her after a second.

“I’m sorry”

Martin embraced Tim from the other side, making a Tim Sandwich.

“You don’t need to be sorry Tim, just let us help you?”

He nodded and hoped they knew he would try.

[onegirlatelier]

Annie Cardigan | February - March, 2021

Happy International Women’s Day!

The pattern and colours of this cardigan are chosen specifically with Women’s Day in mind, and is named after the first woman to gain honours at Oxford, Annie Mary Anne Henley Rogers. She gained her first class honours in Latin and Greek in 1877, followed by first class honours in Ancient History in 1879, and finally matriculated and graduated in 1920.

A lot has happened in the recent few months which made me re-consider my degree at Oxford, but I have never regretted going there or doubted the value of the experience. I have been taught by so many lovely women teachers and professors and met so many fellow female students—which made me sometimes forget the gender inequality in academia and in schools of all ages—and it almost feels like nothing can make me give up the opportunity to be welcomed in this place where I am expected to actually achieve something.

Aren’t I lucky?

This cardigan is probably my last big project until July, because after a long struggle, I’ve decided to finish what I started—I will need to pass the exams in order to continue my study. Today is one of those good days where I feel connected to the world, and I must cherish my opportunity at Oxford because it hasn’t been an easy fight.

There might be a life waiting for me somewhere. Maybe it’s not going to be too bad. Maybe I just need to push myself a little harder. To eat a bit more, to exercise a bit more (not to. lose weight but to be ready for the long hikes in the summer vacation), and to talk a bit more when I feel like it.

Pattern

Once and Floral by Maxim Cyr.

It was a very simple top-down yoke sweater and the instruction was clear. I set myself a difficult task by deciding to make a cardigan instead and doing the body in flat rather than in the round, which meant doing stranded colourwork from the purl side.

The only problem with the pattern was that the required gauge seemed very odd to me. It was 26sts*30 rows in a 10cm square and the author used a standard fingering weight yarn (400m/100g) and 3.5mm needles. I used a light fingering weight yarn and 3.25 needles, which theoretically should make a tighter gauge, but got around 25sts*34 rows per 10cm. Maybe if I pulled my swatch vertically when blocking, I could have achieved what the pattern asked for, which was very tight in stitch gauge but very loose in row gauge. Thankfully it didn’t create too much trouble for me and I had only a few small mods. (Please refer to the Modification section.)

I am becoming more aware of the accessibility issues of Ravelry, and will try to discover more patterns that are available outside of Ravelry. I have access to books by Japanese designers, but if you know any good source for large, complicated, heirloom lace shawls, please let me know!

Yarn

Isager Alpaca 2, 50% alpaca, 50% wool. 250m per 50g skein.

White: (from the Eco range of Alpaca 2) #E0. I used about 30g (11g left from a used ball), or 150m.

Green: #thyme. I used about 168g (52g left from the four skeins I used), or 840m.

Purple: #52. I used about 10g (44g left), or 50m.

(I find that most skeins are a little more than 50g, so the figures are not exact. The usage of the #thyme also includes two small swatches. The whole cardigan weighs 205g without buttons.)

I’ve worked with this yarn before in my Scandinavian Spring cardigan, and this time I’m very pleased with it as well. It is made of natural fibres and has a nice wooly smell. It creates a thin, soft, and warm fabric that grows and puffs up after blocking. In fact, the Isager website specifically recommends it for cardigans.

The down side of such a soft yarn is obviously that it’s not as hard-wearing as some of the more rustic woolen yarns (such as Tukuwool Fingering). The website does state that it’s not able to handle too much wear and tear, but that is okay for me since both this cardigan and my Scandinavian Cardigan are very special and I do not expect to wear them as everyday garments.

These skeins did have travelled a long way to reach me, so I need to keep the carbon emission in mind. I purchased them from a local yarn store which bulk-ordered from the Isager website, though, so at least that’s better than buying small amounts directly from the Isager store. For this specific project, I only had to buy two more skeins of #thyme and one skein of #52, and the rest came from my stash.

(Can you see the heathered effect on this swatch? I'm swooning 😍)

Other materials

I used freshwater mother of pearl buttons. I’m not sure about the source of these buttons, but I understand that freshwater mussels are very important to the ecological systems in which they live (as are all other species), and I do hope that they come from responsible farming.

As for the thread to sew on the buttons, I opted for Fujix Patchwork Coton #50, which is 100% cotton with a coating that makes it a bit glossier, stiffer, and presumably stronger than the average cotton thread.

Needle sizes

3.25mm for the main body

2.5mm for the ribbing, because I like the ribbing to hug my body snugly and was worried about it being stretched out.

Finished size

I no longer think it’s relevant to take excessive measurements of my finished project, so I will only note the essential figures that might help me (or you) if trying to figure out how many stitches to cast on, how to adjust the yoke, etc.

Underarm circumference: 82cm

Total length of the yoke chart: 16cm

(Three ways to wear the cardigan, and the white bordering with which I'm so pleased - see Mod.)

Modifications

The most obvious mod is of course that I changed it from a pullover to a cardigan. Normally you would still knit in the round and steek the front later, but in order to preserve the yarn, I knitted the body back and forth.

I casted on 110sts instead of 120 because I was hoping for a tight collar. Then in the first row I increased to 120sts.

For the colourwork yoke, there were a few rows where I had only three or four sts of one colour in a repeat and the remaining sts are all in other colours (such as the rows showing the stamen), and for me it wasn’t worth it to carry the yarn of that colour all the way along the row. Hence I used a separate length of yarn to knit those few stitches in each repeat. For the stamen, I cut a length of green yarn for each repeat and knitted it in intarsia.

I did the body first. And then I was hesitant about the design of the hemming, button bands, and the collar, so I did them (in the order I mentioned them) before knitting the sleeves to save some brain power. I had seven button holes, one on the collar band and the rest on the button band, similar to the front of a shirt. The third button was specifically placed to echo the design of the yoke.

The pattern called for 1*1 ribbing, but I did 2*2 as it was stretchier. I did invisible 2*2 bind off with a decorative lining, and the technique is similar to what I did with my Toscana Shrug: after several rows of 2*2 ribbing in green, I switched to white and did one more row of ribbing. Then in white I bound off using the invisible method. You need to knit one row in the contrasting colour before binding off; otherwise it would look somewhat messy.)

You may know that when you change colours, there will be a dotted line on the purl side, and the same thing happens for the ‘purl’ part of the ribbing. I was really worried, but the invisible bound off seemed to have covered up that dotted line, so the result was quite neat—a nice surprise!

For each of the sleeve, I have 74sts on the set up row. I knitted 10 rows, then from next row: (dec 2 for the row, knit nine more rows) repeat five times. So at about elbow length I had five dec rows and 64sts on the needles. I knitted 51 rows to create a straight (instead of tapered) forearm. Then I dec 4 each row for five rows, and ended up with 44sts. I then switched to 2.5mm needles and did 2*2 ribbing. I knitted the ribbing extra long so that I could fold it back, which was the way I preferred.

(Here is a tutorial by Anushka about sewing buttons onto knitted garments, which is very helpful.)

Further Considerations

This was my first time doing colourwork from the purl side and it definitely was not a pleasant job. With more practice I will hopefully become better at it, though! I did reserve knitting (knitting from left to right) instead of purling for a few rows, but gave up as I couldn’t find a way to hold yarn comfortably with my left hand. I might need more practice there, too.

The ribbing is a little bit on the tight side, but at the moment I don’t have a problem with it. If I find it still too tight after some wear, next time I will remember to use 2.75mm needles. The 44sts cuffs are quite snug on my wrists, so next time I’ll do 48sts or more instead.

I still have a fair bit of Isager Alpaca 2 left, and I really need some long gloves to warm my wrists as well as forearms, so I might be knitting a pair of fingerless gloves later.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 14

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wēn Qíng, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wēn Qíng, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Granny Wēn, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wēn Remnants, Wen Meilin (OC), Fourth Uncle, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secrets, Crying, Masks, Soulmates, Truth, Self-Esteem Issues, Regret, It was supposed to be a one-shot, Fix-It, Eventual Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, wwx needs a hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Filial Piety, Handfasting, Phobias, Sleeping Together, Fear, Panic Attacks, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Family, and they were married, Bathing/Washing, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Feels, Sex Education, Implied Sexual Content, First Time, Aftercare, Morning After, Afterglow, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Chronic Pain, Biting, Conversations

Summary: With Wei Wuxian on the mend, Wen Qing sends him into town with A-Yuan, Lan Wangji, and Wen Ning to keep him out of trouble. They run into someone unexpectedly.

Notes: See end.

AO3 link | FFN link (no smut)

Chapters:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

-----------

Wei Ying seems happy to be in town for the first time since his near-possession, cleared after nearly a week by Wen Qing. Lan Wangji is of the opinion that the surplus of radishes and need to sell them was more the reason for her clearance, along with the fact a bored Wei Ying was dangerous. 

The musical acupuncture helped him heal rapidly for someone without a golden core, according to Wen Qing. And Wei Ying had started to theorize about ways this could potentially be adapted to help Wen Ning—apparently one of the concerns was whether spiritual energy used in such a way would hurt him, or if using resentful energy could damage Wen Ning’s control. He didn’t feel ready to experiment just yet. 

There was only so much Lan Wangji could do to keep Wei Ying distracted once he was recovering, though the tidy rewritten notes thrilled his husband. After the third small explosion while he worked on the Compass of Evil, Wen Qing decided he’d do less damage selling radishes with Wen Ning in town, and insisted they take A-Yuan with them so Granny could rest.

Damage is a perhaps relative idea, when a fake Yiling Laozu disciple sets up shop next to them to hawk his counterfeit wares. 

Lan Wangji is surprised when Wei Ying finds the whole thing amusing, and says nothing when he steals the charlatan’s Compass of Evil, replacing it with a radish. Truthfully, the theft satisfies him; it grates on him to hear the lies gossips spew, to see people slander his zhiji for their own gain. 

The day is otherwise long, with Wen Ning too shy to effectively call attention to their radishes. Adorably, A-Yuan is a bit of a help there, enthusiastically calling the attention of young women who find him adorable (but at least purchased radishes), but he grows bored easily and needs redirection. 

It doesn’t help that Wei Ying keeps rubbing his hand over his collar with a dreamy expression, which more than once leads  Lan Wangji to recite the Lan precepts mentally lest he act inappropriately in public—Wei Ying is wearing his ribbon at his crown, so that restraint is absent. 

Under his collar is the evidence of his lack of restraint—a bruise in the shape of Lan Wangji’s teeth. 

He is careful, on the whole, given Wei Ying bruises easily in his unhealthy state, bruises that take too long to fade for Wangji’s comfort. But with Wei Ying straddling his lap and moaning obscenities in his ear, moving his hips just so, as he was tasting the sweat on his collar, his control had broken. 

At the bite, Wei Ying had come with an exultant “yes!” Their stomachs slick with it between them, his nails scraping at Lan Wangji’s back, clenching so hard around him his vision whited out with the force of his own orgasm. He can’t think about the bruise without remembering. 

Wei Ying likes the bruise, to Lan Wangji’s mortification. Likes being marked by him, little reminders of their every day.

“I know you’d never really hurt me, Lan Zhan,” he’d said, his voice filled with a trust Lan Wangji didn’t feel he deserved. “And I liked it, in case you couldn’t tell.”

Watching Wei Ying rub it here in town is a special kind of hell, him at arm’s length and too far from their bed. 

It becomes worse when Wei Ying glances his way and catches him looking, immediately reddening as though he knows exactly what he is thinking, which makes restraint all the more difficult. He looks beautiful, blushing. But he has always looked beautiful, and Lan Wangji had previously managed restraint—that was, however, before he had acknowledged their relationship, before they had consummated. Somehow the longing, the dreams and fantasies, had been much more manageable before he knew how Wei Ying’s sweat-slick skin tasted, how he felt coming apart. 

The sale of the last of the radishes is a relief, but they still need to purchase items on Wen Qing’s list before returning to Burial Mounds. He lets Wei Ying focus on A-Yuan, who insists on being carried, and walks alongside him without touching him. A-Yuan is practically hanging backward from Wei Ying’s arms, giggling at silly faces he’s making. Wen Ning takes up the rear with the cart, where he’ll have Wei Ying sit if his strength fails him. 

He is so focused on Wei Ying beside him that he doesn’t notice Jiang Wanyin in front of them until he halts, the smile on his face freezing, his stream of nonsense conversation with A-Yuan trailing into silence. 

Jiang Wanyin does not look happy.

But, then, he rarely does. 

Lan Wangji has to steel himself, doing his best not to look at the lower dantian where Wei Ying’s core now rests. Instead he bows politely.

“Sect Leader Jiang.”

Beside him, Wei Ying bows as best he can with A-Yuan in his arms, and he can sense movement behind him that tells him Wen Ning has followed suit. 

Jiang Wanyin’s lip curls, but he just silently tosses his head in a beckoning gesture. 

He can hear the way Wei Ying’s breath quickens, the bit of perspiration on his upper lip. Can sense his nervousness over what is to come, what he has decided to reveal. Lan Wangji takes a breath to calm himself. His husband needs him steady now.

The moment Jiang Wanyin turns to lead the way to wherever he intends them to speak, Lan Wangji puts a steadying hand on Wei Ying’s elbow as they follow and receives a wan smile in response. 

Lan Wangji is relieved he is wearing the clothing the aunties sewed for him today, wearing a simpler guan Wei Ying had carved for him personally after he had expressed reluctance to continue wearing the one he had worn to befit and show his station. Wei Ying had carved two rabbits on the guan, one wearing a forehead ribbon and the other stained a darker color with leftover dye from the dock root. The craftwork had distracted him nicely for a while. 

The clothing is of a heavier weave than he is used to, but he doesn’t mind it. If the plainer clothing has distracted Jiang Wanyin from noticing Lan Wangji is not wearing his forehead ribbon, that it is woven around Wei Ying’s crown and plaited with his red ribbon down his back, it is a relief. Jiang Wanyin is not known for an even temper, and his inattention has staved off what might be an argument until they are out of public. 

Wei Ying will find the coming conversations stressful enough in private. He doesn’t need it to start publicly and draw attention from the locals. 

Despite all the rumors about Wei Ying floating around Yiling, none of the regular citizens seem to know what he looks like. Any rumors imported speak of him as a demon or monster, and so any talismans purporting to show his features show him as such—talismans Wei Ying had decorated his cave with, and which Lan Wangji has successfully convinced him to allow him to remove. As infamous and reviled as Wei Ying is, he has managed to stay anonymous outside the gentry, anonymity that affords him some safety, and Lan Wangji would rather it not be shattered by one of Jiang Wanyin’s temper tantrums. 

They are led to a courtyard, and though Jiang Wanyin first tries to close the door to keep Lan Wangji and Wen Ning out, he is able to stop this by blocking the shutting door with his sheathed sword. The Jiang sect heir must see something in the narrowing of Lan Wangji’s eyes, because he doesn’t attempt it again, instead closing and locking the door behind them. 

Aside from a single figure in a long black cloak, they are alone, and Lan Wangji is unsurprised but pleased when it turns out to be Jiang Yanli in her wedding robes and headdress, come to show Wei Ying so he is not completely left out—he has seen his husband’s pain over this, how much he misses the sister who raised him, knows she is as close to his blood as can be, and he hopes this eases it somewhat. 

Lan Wangji can feel Wei Ying’s arms drooping under the weight of A-Yuan, so he carefully takes the boy from him so he can greet his sister.

“A-Xian,” she calls him, untying the cloak and letting it fall. “What do you think?”

He’s close enough to hear Wei Ying’s breath catch, and is taken back to his disappointment over being excluded from the wedding. He himself is reminded of seeing Wei Ying in red following the Sunshot Campaign, in his underrobes after waking for a coma, the only time he has seen him in only in red. He realizes with a pang he will never see his husband in wedding robes. 

“What, she’s not marrying you.”

Jiang Wanyin’s snide tone grates on Lan Wangji, but Wei Ying responds in kind, and he recalls watching them snipe verbally at each other during the lecture in Cloud Recesses, back before the world fell apart. 

Jiang Yanli calms them, and he marvels at her ability to bring them together as they try to convince her she looks lovely in her wedding garb. 

“You’ll only believe it if he says it,” Wei Ying says, faking petulance. “Lan Zhan, what do you think?”

He had been trying to avert his eyes politely, but even Jiang Wanyin seems to be watching for his reaction, so he studies them, the delicate stitching, the fall of the layers. 

Lan Wangji wishes he could see Wei Ying in wedding robes. 

“Elegant,” he says with a nod.

“Zhan-gege, who’s Pretty-jiejie?” A-Yuan asks, twisting in his hold.

Wei Ying smiles at the boy, taking him back.

“Even A-Yuan knows you’re pretty, shijie, so you don’t need to worry.”

Jiang Yanli folds the cloak and gestures to the nearby table. 

“Come now, I’ve made soup.”

When Wei Ying sits, Jiang Yanli’s expression shifts to surprise, and he notices her looking at his forehead ribbon in his hair. She looks to him, a question in her expression, and he simply nods. Her responding smile is filled with relief, but also regret. 

He is surprised when she doesn’t address it immediately, instead gesturing to him to sit and opening the basket. He takes a seat beside Wei Ying. The smell of the soup fills the air, a scent unfamiliar to Lan Wangji, but one that reminds him of his husband. This, he realizes, must be the lotus root and pork rib soup he has heard him talk about. 

“I apologize. I only have three bowls,” she says, sounding truly disappointed. “I did not expect…”

Lan Wangji is about to demur and insist he does not intend to eat when Jiang Wanyin, surprisingly, pulls out a pouch of money.

“We can purchase a couple from the market, A-jie.”

Wen Ning bows.

“Jiang-zongzhu, Jiang-guniang, I can g-go for you.”

Jiang Wanyin frowns at Wen Ning with thinly veiled hostility that baffles Lan Wangji, but hands him some silver.

As Wen Ning flees, he wonders if it is to avoid Jiang Wanyin, or to avoid being present for at least part of the conversation to come. 

He knows Wei Ying would prefer to flee, and he strokes his arm briefly with his thumb. The smile he receives from his husband is tremulous, but he can see his determination. 

Jiang Yanli smiles at A-Yuan, her attention drawn by the movement.

“Who is this little one?” she asks, crouching slightly so she’s at the child’s height.

“A-Yuan is A-Yuan, Pretty-jiejie!”

Wei Ying shifts, catching his hand briefly and squeezing it; Lan Wangji realizes he’s decided to start here, with A-Yuan, in the multitude of revelations that are to be made. 

“A-Yuan, this is my shijie,” he says softly. “You can call her guma.”

Jiang Yanli gasps in delight when A-Yuan dutifully calls her guma.

“A-Xian, is he yours?”

She is obviously unable to take him into her arms, wearing her wedding robes as she is, but she reaches out to take A-Yuan’s hand. 

“Not by blood, but he started calling me a-die.”

He offers a wan smile to both his siblings.

“Meet Wei Yuan. Or he will be, once I’ve introduced him properly to my parents.”

“He’s a Wen,” Jiang Wanyin states.

Lan Wangji levels him with a stare, though it’s unclear in his tone how he feels. 

“He’s an orphan and he’s three years old,” Wei Ying shoots back.

Jiang Wanyin’s face softens, but Jiang Yanli looks alarmed.

“A-Xian, he was at the work camp? At Qiongqi Path?”

Her face hardens when he nods.

“The children, the civilians, all were supposed to be let go. How could they…?”

Lan Wangji stays silent, knowing Wei Ying would prefer to shield her from some of the uglier realities of the war, but is reminded of coming upon Jin Zixun shooting unarmed civilians in chains, and his lie that it was sanctioned by the Lan and Nie clans. 

“I couldn’t leave them there, shijie,” he whispers. “Wen Ning and Wen Qing sheltered us, and the others were held as Wen Ruohan’s hostages against her during the war.”

A-Yuan is watching Wei Ying quietly, with the same air of concern he had at the restaurant in Yiling not so many days ago. Lan Wangji shifts again to put the child on Wei Ying’s lap, watching as the boy hugs him.

Wei Ying manages a smile for him, then leans his head close to him and points to Jiang Wanyin.

“And the fussy gege is your shushu,” he says conspiratorially. 

“You—!” 

Jiang Yanli silences Jiang Wanyin with a look.

“Like Ning-shushu?” A-Yuan asks. “Do I call him nao-shushu?”

“That’s your Jiang-shushu,” Wei Ying clarifies before Jiang Cheng can take offense, but nearly chokes on the title and falls quiet.

Lan Wangji remembers abruptly that Wei Ying had once referred to Jiang Fengmian by that very name, and he watches his husband in concern. He has expressed feeling as though the attack on Lotus Pier was his fault, and he can see the guilt and grief Wei Ying is struggling to hold back. 

“Yes,” Jiang Wanyin says, his voice strained as though he is fighting his own emotional turmoil, ending an awkward silence. “You can call me Jiang-shushu.”

When A-Yuan does, it is perhaps the closest Lan Wangji has ever seen Jiang Wanyin come to smiling. 

Wen Ning returns with several bowls and soup spoons, an inexpensive wooden variety they have at the Burial Mounds. He tries to give Jiang Wanyin his change and is waved off.

“You can use it to get something sweet for… for my zhizi,” he says, his tone brusque. “Or a toy or something.”

Wei Ying smiles, his posture relaxing just slightly—A-Yuan’s acceptance by his siblings as their nephew has eased his nerves somewhat. But this is only the first of three difficult revelations that must be made, and arguably the easiest of them. 

Jiang Yanli serves each of them, putting a generous portion of meat in A-Yuan’s bowl, and takes a seat. She herself is not eating, likely concerned about staining her wedding robes. Instead she seems content to watch them eat.

Wei Ying alternates between himself and A-Yuan, one spoon each.

“Be sure to chew the lotus root,” Wen Ning tells the boy softly. 

A-Yuan nods enthusiastically, clearly enamored of the flavors; Lan Wangji can’t blame him. Though there is more spice than he is accustomed to, as is the norm in Yunmeng cuisine, the flavor is somehow warm and comforting. He completely understands how this soup is his husband’s favorite. 

“You’re not eating,” Jiang Yanli says. 

Wen Ning jerks in surprise.

“Oh… I was going to save this for jiejie so she could try it.”

Jiang Yanli smiles warmly.

“We will be coming to Burial Mounds, once I change at the inn. I brought enough ingredients to make some for everyone.”

Wei Ying nearly chokes on a bite of soup. She pats his back until he’s recovered.

“Wen Qing sent me a letter. We have things to discuss.”

Jiang Wanyin looks sour about this.

“Speaking of, Zewu-Jun sent an interesting letter. Said you have news to share. I’m assuming it has to do with why Hanguang-Jun is here?”

Wei Ying puts his soup spoon down and hands A-Yuan off to Wen Ning with his bowl. Wen Ning doesn’t seem surprised by this and takes over feeding him. 

He tries not to be nervous over his husband getting the boy out of the potential line of fire. He rather hopes it is unnecessary, but he has seen Jiang Wanyin’s temper.

“About that,” Wei Ying says, then pauses, glancing at Lan Wangji. “Um, well… We’re married.”

For a moment, there is stunned hurt on Jiang Wanyin’s features, but it’s quickly replaced by wrath, powerful enough that zidian sparks.

“You couldn’t even invite us?!”

Lan Wangji will not have him blame Wei Ying for that. He knows there will be enough of that when they get to the next revelation. He would rather the focus be on him.

“He did not know we were married until recently.”

Jiang Wanyin’s eyes snap to him, and he carefully keeps his gaze cool in response to what is almost a volcano. He sputters, almost too angry to speak, zidian sparking even more dangerously, leaving the scent of ozone in the air. 

“You— Without his consent?! This, from the honorable Hanguang-Jun?!”

“Jiang Wanyin!”

Wei Ying’s voice is low and cutting, startlingly powerful despite the lack of volume. It’s enough to startle his brother out of his anger, at least momentarily.

“He handfasted me in the Cold Spring cave,” he explains. “Lan Yi’s guqin was attacking me because I wasn’t Lan.”

Jiang Yanli stands and levels a look at Jiang Wanyin that somehow makes him quail; Lan Wangji only understands why when she levels it at him—the fury of a mother figure.

“Please explain, Lan-er-gongzi.”

Her voice is clipped in the same manner it was when she chastised Jin Zixun at the Phoenix Mountain hunt, and leaves no doubt that she will find a way to harm him if his explanation is deemed unsatisfactory. She is mildly terrifying.

“Wei Ying was being attacked with Chord Assassination,” he says. “The headband would afford him protection. I did not expect Lan Yi’s appearance. Or that we would bow. Regardless, I did not regret it.”

“You married him by accident?” Jiang Wanyin mutters, the rage gone and replaced with confusion.

“Lan Yi did not disapprove.”

“And you never told A-Xian?” Jiang Yanli asks.

She also seems more confused than angry now. 

Wei Ying sighs tiredly.

“Aiya, Jiang Cheng, shijie… When would he have had time? When we were searching for the yin iron? Indoctrination? The Xuanwu cave? After—”

He breaks off. His siblings look pained, remembering the fate of Lotus Pier, though they don’t know what came after for Wei Ying. Yet. 

“There was never time,” Lan Wangji agrees. “I did not expect my regard for him to be reciprocated. But now, with the danger to Wei Ying… even were it solely political, I could help protect him.”

“It’s not solely political,” Wei Ying chirps, his tone almost smug. “It’s very reciprocated—and can’t be annulled now!”

Lan Wangji can feel his ears heating. Just under Wei Ying’s collar lurks the proof of that, as he’s been acutely aware all day. He has to avoid looking at him for a moment—not out of embarrassment, but because if he does, if he sees the heat in Wei Ying’s gaze, he might lose control and kiss him in front of his siblings. 

As much as his husband might prefer the distraction, he doubts it will help much. 

“I didn’t need to know that, ever,” Jiang Wanyin grouses, making a face. 

Jiang Yanli takes her seat again, her face serious.

“A-Xian is in danger?”

Lan Wangji nods. 

“The rumors make him out to be a monster raising an army of Wen cultivators, as though he is an enemy. The truth is quite different. The lies Jin Guangshan has spread to imply he disrespects Jiang Wanyin were meant to isolate him. They want the amulet.”

“Wait, what’s this about me not respecting Jiang Cheng?” Wei Ying demands, clearly affronted.

“One of the claims made after Qiongqi Path,” Lan Wangji tells him. “That you were speaking ill of Jiang Wanyin at the Phoenix Mountain hunt.”

Wei Ying looks stunned, and his gaze darts to his brother. He evidently doesn’t like what he sees, his expression shuttering. 

“I see,” he says, the words heavy in the air. “And you believed them.”

Jiang Wanyin has the decency to look ashamed. 

Jiang Yanli seems at a loss. Lan Wangji suspects she has heard none of this. Had she been aware, he has no doubt the offenders would have regretted speaking ill of Wei Ying. 

“Maybe you’re right not to trust me,” Wei Ying murmurs finally. “I’ve lied to both of you.”

The admission startles a flinch from his siblings. Lan Wangji can feel the tension in Wei Ying, like a guqin string stretched too taut, ready to snap at the slightest touch. He reaches for Wei Ying’s hand under the table and places his on top of it. He is relieved when his husband relaxes slightly, a slight tremor running through him. 

Wei Ying’s hand, when he laces theirs together, is clammy and cold, his grip tighter than normal. As much as Lan Wangji wishes he could do more, the best he can do is be here for him. 

The quiet stretches, seeming to freeze them in time, broken only when A-Yuan asks Wen Ning for another bite of soup. 

Jiang Yanli reaches forward, touches Wei Ying’s arm. 

“About what, A-Xian?”

She looks concerned and a little afraid, and the same look lurks on Jiang Wanyin’s features. They know, Lan Wangji realizes that Wei Ying has been hiding something, maybe even suspect how terrible it is. Whatever they might imagine, he knows the truth will be much worse. 

Wei Ying swallows hard, his fingers tightening. He seems to be trying to find the words, deciding how to say it in a way that might soften the blow. 

But there is no way to soften it. 

“I didn’t know how to find Baoshan Sanren,” he admits finally.

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

The conversation is a lot longer than I expected it to be, and this is a good stopping point, even if it is a bit of a cliffhanger. This went in directions I didn’t always expect, in part because Jiang Yanli is terrifying.

Lan Wangji has feelings about Jiang Cheng. They’re not always the nicest feelings, but he has them regardless. It’s ok, because Jiang Cheng has similar feelings in return.

It might take me a bit to pick this up again. I’m participating in the WangXian Lunar New Year gift exchange, so I’m working on my piece for that and putting my other fics on hold for a little while. Also, the new semester just started, and I’ve probably fielded about 50 emails from panicked students today alone.