#sincerest thoughts for the families of the victims

[kirkshouseplant]

Can't wait to hear thoughts and prayers over and over while nothing is done to stop this.

[bleuhisteria]

Chapter 5 Love, was it all in Vain?

It was the weekend the day of Iruma's rank advancement test, and so (Y/N) could stay at home and read through the books she had, she sat near her desk with a cup of tea as she continued on from where she left of from the origins of cursed items.

'Where was I? Oh yes, there's a generational curse still active to this day...'

(Y/N) flipped to the first page, her eyes darting to the last words she had read.

The curse of obsession was found to be generational and could only be broken by dedicating one's life to something, this curse as of today is still in effect in the clan of Direxion, this clan has dedicated their lives to creating magic tools for the demon king, their works can mostly be found in the demon king's castle.

Cursed magic items have been created through strong emotions, despair, anger, vengeance, guilt, betrayal, and greed, however other emotions or actions one puts their mind to can also affect a magic item.

Although cursed items can be created with such strong emotions, it is not known how strong exactly an emotion has to be to purposefully create one, as most, if not all cursed items collected have been found to be created accidentally such as the curse of obsession, attempts to recreate curses have been unsuccessful thus far, transferring of curses can happen, but is also very rare.

There are three types of curses known as of this day, they are:

Direct curses: These are curses that are sent directly on a demon and can be cured through a purification process which can be deadly if the demon is weak, the second way is for the source to release their curse on the victim.

Cursed Items: Items made by strong emotions or desires.

Cursed Familiars: Familiars can't be cursed however, demons can be cursed with familiars. Familiar curses have been around for centuries, they are sent by deities who feel the need to chain down a demonic clan can cause detrimental harm to the netherworld.

(Y/N) finished the book, only learning at most about the history of cursed magic items, as she was about to close the book, a letter fell out of it.

'Hm?' She wondered as she opened it, it had a magic seal on it that she managed to take off using magic.

To my beloved blossom, whose fragrance possesses the power to transport me to a world where dreams and aspirations intertwine, you are the muse that ignites the fires of hope within me. Our first dance was a celestial waltz, sweeping me off my feet and whisking me away to a realm where time stood still, and our souls danced amidst the ethereal clouds.

Your laughter, like a delicate melody, graces my ears and resonates in the depths of my being, creating a symphony of pure delight. Oh, how I regret the times when I, a passing drought, failed to nourish you, causing your delicate petals to wither.

In this heartfelt letter, I offer you my sincerest apologies for my shortcomings, for I have come to realize that I have failed you, my one and only.

--Delkira

(Y/N) stared at the letter and sighed, putting it away in her desk along with the book before moving on to the next book to read.

A knock came at her door, "It's Iruma!" they called out from behind the door.

(Y/N) got up, placing the books down and opening her door.

"Oka-san!" Iruma called happily, "Do you want to play with us?" he asks, holding a controller.

'A game?' (Y/N) thought, "Sure, why not?" she smiled.

She joins the rest of the family in the living room, she sat down on the couch next to Iruma, on a 1v1v1v1 with Iruma, Sullivan, and Opera.

Iruma quickly explained the mechanics before the game began.

The first one to die was Sullivan, then Iruma, now it was just a 1v1 with Opera.

"Don't think that you'll beat me in this game Opera! You know I'm better than you!" (Y/N) exclaimed, all fired up as she hit combo after combo.

"Prove it." Opera simply replied as they calmly counterattacked.

"Ora ora ora ora ora ora ora ora ora!"

The weekend flew by pretty quickly...

__

(Y/N) walked through the halls of the school, after dismissing her class she had one free period and was now wondering what she should do.

A hum escaped her lips as she thought of what to do, 'I did say I'd visit Kiriwo-kun again, might as well.' she thought as she headed to the batra room.

She knocks before entering the room, "Pardon the intrusion~" she called as she stepped in, closing the door behind her.

"I-it's you again! Do you really do have a cursed item on you?" Kiriwo stood up from his chair and pointed, a little flustered and in shock.

(Y/N) nodded and brought out her staff, showing the demon her crystalized staff, Kiriwo held his hands up as if holding himself back from grabbing it instantly, his eyes shone with excitement as he gazed upon the cursed staff.

"M-may I?" He asked, looking at (Y/N) with desperate eyes.

She shrugged, "Knock yourself out." she states, allowing him to touch the staff. "Just don't break it, it has a blood bond and any damage inflicted can hurt me as well." she looks over as the boy observed the staff, touching every surface it had.

Kiriwo nods, "I will!" he says.

(Y/N) stays for a while with him, talking about the staff, minus the origins as she didn't know either, at most she told him what it can do.

"Ne, it kind of reminds me of the staff of legends." Kiriwo commented as he handed the staff back to (Y/N).

She tilts her head curiously, "Staff of legends?" she asks.

Kiriwo flinches in surprise, "You don't know?" he asked.

(Y/N) shook her head.

"The staff of legends is the staff that allows the holder's spells to increase in strength and has the ability to grant the use of bloodline magic if the user has seen it in use even just once, even if the user isn't part of a certain family." He began to explain.

Placing a hand on her chin, (Y/N) looked deeply invested as she allowed the student to continue. "Interesting, tell me more."

"The staff of legend isn't just a staff, the uniqueness of it stems from the fact that it only comes from a single power source, most staves usually have mana stones on them, if replaced by the power source of the staff of legend, the user's ability could rival even those of gods!" He exclaims before realizing what he had said.

"...Or so I've heard..." he says, looking away bashfully.

(Y/N) laughs, "You've heard some pretty interesting things." she says with an amused look before standing up from her seat, "I'm going to get going now, I'll stop by the library to see if they have a book for staves."

Just as (Y/N) opened the door, her hand was grabbed, "Wait!" Kiriwo called.

"Hm?" (Y/N) turned around.

"B-before you go, would you please tell me your name?" He asked sheepishly.

A smile formed on her face, "It's (Y/N) (L/N), call me (Y/N)-sensei." she says.

"E-eh?" Kiriwo froze, "Y-you're a teacher?!" he exclaims before coughing up blood due to shock.

He bowed profusely afterwards for how casually he treated a teacher as (Y/N) tried to wave it off as alright.

__

(Y/N) carrying her newly borrowed book on staves, hummed as she walked out to the field as there was still time before her next class, she notices Momonoki and a few students watching over a class and decides to walk over.

"Momonoki-san, what are you doing out here?" She calls as she approached.

Momonoki flinches, "(Y-Y/N)-san!" she exclaims making the students turn to her.

"So this is (Y/N)-sensei." The students whisper.

"What's with the cloak?"

"So mysterious~"

(Y/N) turns and waves to them, "Hello there, I'm a teacher for the third years, you won't see much of me until then." she says with a smile. "If you don't mind, what's going on in this class?" she asks.

"We're just watching the misfit class summon their familiars." A pink haired girl says as she turned back to the students on the field.

Momonoki seemed to have regained her composure as she nodded in response, "Yes, I was also curious, the new teacher, Robin-san had just joined us today." she states.

(Y/N) scratches the back of her head, "Is that so? Would it be rude if I walked over and introduced myself?" she asks awkwardly.

'I've been wanting to see Iruma's class ever since he asked me to be his mom, I was wondering how he was like at school--and I wanted to take lots of pictures too!' she thought, whipping out her camera from behind the cloak, eyes sparkling.

Momonoki shook her head, "Not at all, be sure to see if he's doing things correctly, we almost got to see two familiars fight earlier." she says.

"Hai! Asmodeus-san and Sabnock-san's familiars were so cool to see!"

"Devi-amazing!"

(Y/N) nods and walks over to the green haired teacher, the students seemed to be grooming their familiars at the moment, "Hi!" she greeted.

"Wah~ a custom uniform! Are you a teacher too?" The small green haired demon asks in awe.

She nods in the affirmative before continuing, "My name is (Y/N), it's nice to meet you." she says, extending her hand.

He gave a firm shake, "My name is Balse Robin, I'm the newbie, it's nice to meet you too (Y/N)-sensei!"

"Say, if you don't mind, would it be alright if I checked in with the students?" (Y/N) finally asked.

Robin nods, "Of course! Please tell me if you find anything." he says.

"I'll be sure to do so." She replied, walking off.

Stopping by each and every student to take a quick picture of them grooming their familiars before her last stop.

Iruma groomed his adorable fluffy familiar with a brush before a shadow cast over him, he looks up, his eyes widened, "O-Oka-san?!" he exclaimed, immediately his mouth was covered by (Y/N)'s hands.

"Shh! Are you trying to get me caught?" She asked in an annoyed but joking tone.

'Oka-san?' Kalego thought, 'Iruma's mother?! (Y/N)?!'

Iruma shook his head, (Y/N) kneels down to see his familiar and smiles, "What an adorable fellow~" she cooed, her hand reaching in instinctively to pet it.

The familiar, Kalego, flinches as (Y/N)'s hand was placed on his head, Iruma flinches in fear, his sweat dropping a thousand times per second.

"Ne, Iruma, say cheese!" She says, immediately flashing Iruma and his familiar, a picture saved.

(Y/N) giggles, seeing as how adorable the picture was, "As expected, cute on cute is the best." she says happily.

"U-um, Oka--no, (Y/N)-sensei, what are you doing here?" Iruma asks, deadpan now knowing that Kalego was probably not very happy as he remained silent in his arms.

A hum came from (Y/N)'s lips, "Well, I came to see how you were doing." she smiled.

(Y/N) then hands the camera over to Iruma and grabs the familiar in her hands, "Iruma, take a picture of me, quick!" she says, pressing her face into the familiar's fluffy body, not knowing that it was Kalego at all.

"O-Oka-s--(Y/N)-sensei!" Iruma exclaimed in fear.

"Just take it!" (Y/N) states impatiently.

Iruma reluctantly snaps a picture.

(Y/N) chuckles, pressing the familiar to her chest, "Another one!" she says, Iruma snaps another picture.

'(Y-Y/N)...' Kalego thought awkwardly as his face was now buried in the witch's bosom.

"Iruma, come here." She orders, Iruma walks over before she took the camera off his hands and brought him in, "Say devi~" she says, snapping a picture of all three of them.

(Y/N) handed the familiar back to Iruma and stood up, stretching her arms in relief, "Hyaah~ I got so many good takes, have fun in class Iru~" she says, waving before turning back to the familiar.

She pats Iruma's head and them the familiar's, "So cute." she says before giving the familiar a soft kiss on the forehead "Chuu~", "I'm off~" she winks before heading out of the field.

Iruma deadpanned as he held Kalego to face him, whispering an apology, "Sensei...I'm so sorry, Oka-san-- I mean, (Y/N)-sensei doesn't know that--"

"Iruma." Kalego spoke through bated breath.

"Y-yes?"

"That woman, is your mother?" He asks.

"Er...yes?" Iruma replied, a little puzzled as to why his teacher was curious about their relationship.

_

_

_

A little while later back at the teacher's lounge, Kalego thought angrily about the kiss he had received as he fought back a blush forming on his face, 'That's their relationship...' he sighed.

'Iruma's grandfather is the headmaster, his mother is (Y/N), his father is unknown, but (Y/N) already had a family...as I thought, something much deeper went on when she disappeared, I have to confront her about it.' He thought, remembering her smiling face as she called him cute.

The tip of his ears turning red as he buried his face in his paperwork, 'I have to, definitely because of how inconsistent her family background is, not because I'm curious about Iruma's father, definitely not.' he thought as he aggressively wrote his papers.

Dali turned to look as Kalego had at it at his papers, concern grew for the raven haired teacher, an ominous aura emitted from him as he destroyed the papers he was grading with harsh criticism. 

Chapter 5 End.

BONUS SCENE:

'(Y-Y/N)-san, k-kissed Kalego-san's f-forehead...' Momonoki fell to the ground dejectedly as she watched (Y/N) walk away, humming a happy tune, unknowing of what she had just done.

"Momonoki-sensei!" The female students surrounding her called out worriedly.

[taintedsoul-if]

It is burn-to-the-ground Anon and OMG! White lotus! You are speaking my languageeeee!

My MC's gonna be such a green tea, soooooooooo green that make everyone doubt themselves and make that white lotus goes *surprise pikachu face*. I’m guessing that MC had read the novel and knew all the betrayal and shitty things beforehand Right? Right!?

And wth Tysten/Trista, I can’t believe you’re so much worse than I thought you would be. About the servant, I’m gonna deal with you first. I’m pretty sure that white lotus is practicing how to be a victim behind close door, just because 🙄

Also, my sincerest condolences for original host. All the betrayal, all the lies. Don’t worry, my MC got chu. I’m gonna burn everything to the ground, and then burn those ashes again. Maybe spend time with Nyssa/Nyala (dating the villian and screwing the protagonists is the best part) too, but mostly the revenge and burning things🔥

👀👀 oh my. Forgive me burn-to-the-ground Anon. Most of the plot is impaired. The MC only has the memories of what happened in the past to the original host. But before the original host was left for dead in Ostror, Yesenia and Trysten/Trista showed the original host their true face. (If I wrote the enter backstory for the book that MC fell into... it would be thousands of words without a single code. Huge walls of text so I cut it down a bit. And made the original host memory impaired.)

🤧 for the servant who tried to poison the MC.... I created four choices. *evil laugh*

force it down Neosho throat. 😏. (Neosho is the name of the servant).

Kick her.

Pretend as if you know nothing.

Pour down the bathroom sink.

Burn-to-the-ground Anon your answer is incorrect. 🤭. But you'll find out soon enough.... waaaaayyyyy in Arc 2.

And the original host is in a better place now. She was sent somewhere where she'll be happy every single day. Anon I tell you. MC is already in a fact a green tea. Hey! Anon when MC apologized to Trysten/Trista and begged them not to ignore them anymore. I almost believe the MC myself and I'm the one who's writing! 👀. I said to myself. *that lying son of a bitch!*

I know *everyone* hates Trysten/Trista but I am honestly going to say, you all should romance this sleezebag, if it's even once!.... their route is one of self destruction. I plan to go all out. Every RO has something different to offer! Lots of flavour. Yum!

For one of the choices. Nothingness asked the MC how they felt about this. The MC outright told nothingness that they're going take revenge for the original host. Nothingness unemotional voice asked. "Even at the cost of your soul being tossed into oblivion?"

Burn-to-the-ground Anon I see chu! I would advise you not to do that. 😏. Nyssa is a cuddle bunny but their dark side has been activated long ago. Their paranoia knows no bound. In chapter one we've been introduced to my home boy Cadmus. To the sleaze bag Trysten/Trista. Now I plan to write Nyssa/Nyala intro and Our instructor. (My MC needs some detention in their life instructor!)

I don't plan to restrict my players all that much.... when I am rewriting all these chapters more words and choices will be added. For now I want my readers to enjoy the process just as much as I did.

Also another spoiler for you my excited friend. The original owners father *was* a servant of the original owners mother's family.

I hoped I answered all your questions! Have a good one burn-to-the-ground Anon!

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Press Conferences (Spencer Reid x gn!reader)

Summary: You’re the new press liaison after JJ became a profiler, and Spencer helps comfort you after a tough press conference. 

Content: Hurt/Comfort 

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of abduction (related to the case), reader crying

Word Count: 1573

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The pressure in your head was building, and you knew you had to get out of there soon or you might literally explode.

“Unfortunately I am unable to discuss details of the case at this time, but our team is working incredibly hard to ensure that we catch this man before anyone else gets hurt.” You delivered the blanket statement, hoping to diffuse any further questions or insults. Of course, it didn’t work, as the man in front of you spoke again.

“Well no offense but your team isn’t doing a very good job.”

“Sir, I assure you that my team is doing the best they possibly can with the given circumstances.”

“People are dying! Just standing here and saying that ‘they’re doing the best they can’ isn’t fucking good enough!”

“Please, sir, calm down -”

“You don’t get to tell me to calm down, Agent Y/L/N! You disgusting pigs… when more innocent people are kidnapped, I hope that you see those reports and know that this is all your fucking fault -”

He had leapt from his seat, arms waving as he ranted to you. Another person in the crowd cut him off, shouting with the same fervor.

“My husband was one of the people taken, Agent. And every day, when I check in with your team, I hear ‘we’re working on it’ or ‘ma’am, we’re doing everything we can.’ But from where I’m sitting, I don’t see you doing anything at all! Where are our families? Please, where is my husband?”

More voices rose, families of the abducted people chiming in with their stories, anguish and anger painting their faces. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to force back your headache, before finally you cut everyone off.

“Please!” You spoke loudly into the microphone. A hush fell over the crowd, everyone awaiting what you were going to say.

“First of all: My sincerest condolences to the families of those who have been abducted. What has occured is a tragedy, and the FBI has resources for mental health and wellness if you need someone to speak to. But I assure you, we are working day and night on this case. I cannot speak to the case details at this time, but we’re going to do everything we possibly can to bring everybody back safely. Thank you for your time.”

You turned around and walked away from the podium, hearing a cacophony of voices rise from behind you as tears burned your eyes. You waved security off of you, heading back into the police station and bolting straight for the bathroom.

Emotions swirled through your mind, and you weren’t sure if you were angry or sad as you slammed one of the stall doors.

The victim’s families had every right to be upset. No progress was being made on the case, and every day that passed without a new lead was another day where people could die. The thought made your stomach churn, and you leaned up against the wall, steadying your breathing.

But the team really was doing everything they could to try and solve the case. Hell, you couldn’t remember the last time that Spencer got any sleep! And for people to insist to you that they weren’t doing anything, that people being taken is their fault… it pissed you off, to be honest.

You hadn’t really registered the tears running down your face until you raised your shaky hands to wipe them from your cheeks. You clenched your jaw, trying to check both your anger and sorrow as you stood alone in the police station bathroom.

Or at least, you were alone.

You heard a knock on the main bathroom door, and silence for a moment before a voice called out to you.

“Y/N?”

“Spence?” You asked.

“Are you… you know, using the restroom?”

You laughed a bit. “No, and there’s no one else in here. You can come in.”

You heard the bathroom door open, and his footsteps walk over to the stall you were in. He leaned up against the outside of the stall, silent for a moment as you sniffled, trying to stop yourself from crying.

“Babe? Are you ok?”

“I -” You sighed, frustrated, “I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“I just had a press conference, and people were understandably upset with the lack of progress on the case. They kept insisting that we weren’t actually working on the case, and then a few of the family members of the victims were - obviously - very angry. And I know that it’s all completely justified, it just…” You balled your fists, “I just needed a minute.”

“... Can you come out here, love? Or is that too much right now?”

You unlocked the door, knowing that your eyes were red from crying. His face softened when he looked at you, and he opened his arms as an invitation for a hug. You accepted gratefully, feeling comforted by his warm embrace.

“What are these tears? Like, what are you feeling right now?”

“So many things,” You let out a shallow laugh, “I’m pissed at the insinuation that you guys aren’t working your asses off on this case, and at everyone shouting at me, but I’m obviously saddened by everything I heard from the victim’s families.”

You and Spencer had established the importance of communicating your feelings early into your relationship. It helped ensure that both of you were on the same page, when your minds were so crowded with other things. And while it was helpful in your relationship, it was especially helpful in times like this. In times where both of your jobs were so overwhelming, that the best thing to do was just to speak candidly about it, and to let someone else help. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, and you clenched his sweater in your fists, trying to stop your hands from shaking.

“I’m sorry, love. But just know that it’s not your fault, and that people have no right to be taking their anger out on you. It makes sense that they would be upset, but they also shouldn’t be shouting at you about it.”

You felt hot tears prick your eyes again, and you sighed.

“I know. And I feel like shit for being upset, because I can’t even imagine the pain that the victim’s families are experiencing right now, but… like I said, I just needed a second.”

He pulled back from his embrace, cupping your face and seeing the barely contained tears in your eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before hugging you again.

“Let it out, baby. It’s okay.”

That was all you needed to let the tears spill down your face, emotions overwhelming your mind. He lightly played with your hair with one hand, the other holding you close as you tried to get your bearings again. Your tears slowed, and he rubbed your back, trying to ensure you were ok.

“Breathe with me, ok love? In through your nose, out through your mouth,” He changed his breathing pattern so you could copy it, recovering in his arms.

When you were breathing steadily, you pulled away from his embrace, and he kissed you again, gentle and comforting.

“How are you feeling now?” He asked.

You considered it for a moment, taking in another deep breath before nodding. “I think I’m ok now.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to go back out there until you’re ready.”

“I’m sure. I really just need a second to recuperate.”

He nodded, and this time you gave him a soft kiss before smiling.

“Thank you, baby,” You said.

“Of course; you know I’m always here.”

“And I’m always here too, if you need anything at all.”

He grinned, wiping the tears from your face. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Spencer.”

“You ready to get back to work?”

You nodded. “Just give me a second to make it look like I wasn’t sobbing.”

He laughed, and you straightened up your appearance in the mirror before you both left the bathroom, returning to the main part of the police station. The whole team had arrived in the time you were gone, and they were working on another theory that Spencer immediately jumped in on. You turned to return to your work before you felt someone tap your shoulder.

You spun around to see JJ standing behind you.

“Hey, I saw the press conference,” She said. You knew that she was the press liaison before you, so it wouldn’t be any surprise to her when you sighed deeply.

“So you saw the nightmare that just occurred?” You joked. She laughed, nodding knowingly.

“I did; you handled it incredibly though, if it’s any consolation.”

“Really? Because it sure didn’t feel like it.”

“No, really. You did great.”

You grinned. “Thank you - honestly, I need some pointers, you’ve got a lot more experience at this than I do.”

“Well, I know how hard it can be, and you’re doing really well for only being a few months into the job.”

“Thanks, JJ. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” She smiled, giving you a comforting hug before returning to the group. You watched your friends for a second, all engrossed in their work, and you were comforted to know that they really were doing the best they possibly could.

And that was all anyone could do, at this point.

[queernuck]

The Cleveland Browns made the playoffs. The Islanders made the Eastern Conference Finals.

And that’s enough for me.

So long, so long I have been living like this, pretending that I want to keep on living, that life feels worthwhile, that I don’t want to kill myself. Suicide is for cowards but ive been chickening out for a whole decade, to the point where getting on the subway was itself something that involved convincing myself not to jump in front of it. I remember once while working in the city, I watched and waited as two trains came in and left, trying to get the energy to jump in front of them. I had decided, if I couldn’t do it by the time a second train came and went, I would go to work and save it for another day. I came very close, my legs tense like a linebacker on 4th & Goal, but I didn’t do it. Maybe it would be better if I had, I would have saved not only myself but a lot of other people a lot of pain and suffering. I’ve been dealing with feeling suicidal for a decade, an entire ten years, and made it through. And for what? I lost a retail job at minimum wage, I’ve seen the Giants go from two-time Super Bowl kingslayers to a team that relied on the Eagles for a playoff berth, I got to see Evangelion only for the final Rebuild film to be infinitely delayed, I have a useless non-degree that allows me to eloquently describe how the Democrats and Republicans alike are driving this stolen land to Fascism while sycophants tell me Vote Blue No Matter Who. I’m so tired, I’m not even the person people think me to be, since if I were, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

My paychecks, as hard-earned as they were, never seemed to be mine in any real sense, and it made me so frustrated that something in me broke at the beginning of this year. I made some mistakes, some very stupid ones, and got myself fired. I took money from and distorted the inventory of my store to get what amounted to pocket money, less than two paychecks. I was tempted because I feel so powerless, so much like nothing I could ever say or do matters, and so I decided to lash out against a place that mattered to me, against people I cared about deeply. Chain stores, corporations, all of those things are not really high on my list of things to care about. Barnes & Noble pushed out local booksellers years ago, an irony not lost on me whenever our own competition with Amazon was made apparent. We were reaping what we had sown. But what always interested on top of this irony was how symbolic these things could be to people, how much we figured into so may memories for so many. The Manga Aisle at Barnes & Noble is a staple of 2006 scene culture, a way that kids without the pocket money to afford the newest volume of Bleach it Naruto could keep up before scams became widely available. How the store was a place where people studying for standardized tests could use the test prep guides to try and get ready for the eugenic ritual of the standardized test. And just how much a chain bookstore became a substitute, socially, for the now-absent local bookstore. We bear the guilt for that, but at the same time we were still selling books, giving people a place to get coffee and sit and read and talk, in ways that libraries may not be able to. We certainly can never replace a library, given just what a library does for people. But we did do a lot of good all the same. Before it closed, some of my fondest memories came when I was the exact sort of annoying teenage customer I grew to hate, hanging out at the Columbus Circle Borders. Working at Barnes & Noble was tiring, dehumanizing, difficult, made me feel like I would never measure up to the authors we sold, the people books were written about, that I was a failure. And I am, as my death shows. But it also made me a part of something I was proud of. And that Above & Beyond pin I earned is in my jacket still, a reminder of something.

That something was shown in so many of the coworkers I had, who were incredible in so many ways. I feel awful for what I did, I genuinely do, because of how it may have hurt people who thought so kindly of me, people who deserve so much good. I wish I had the ability to address each of them individually but this decision was hastily made, and i have a feeling it will show in the things I miss in this note. Audra, your help in finding me a way to use the company policies to my advantage as a worker was something that gave me faith even after having seen the despicable firings and cuts the company went through. Linda, I can’t quite square the circle here given my actions, but I want to say your disappointment broke my heart and that while I will not be the one who shows it, your reassurance that everyone makes mistakes was welcome.

To my (former) fellow booksellers at Store 2216, all of my love and my sincerest apologies. You all have so much good in you, your willingness to listen to my ADHD-fueled rants and to discuss so many things with an incredible frankness was always impressive, in addition to part of what I loved about all of you. I want you all to be happy, and the kinship I felt with you was a vital part of what kept me going. It was tough, as you all know. But at times, it almost felt worth it.

The same is true of my CTY friends: it was a weird, magical place that frankly, a lot of us idealized for far too long and which sk many of us eventually outgrew without being able to let go of. And that was tough, that was something we had a great deal of difficulty understanding, that what helped us once was not always going to be helping us, was not always what we needed. But in eventually finding that, we found solace, we realized how life as a whole functions and just what it is that we can take from places like it.

To my other family, my Cleo family, I know I haven’t been terribly active lately, but I can never, ever thank you enough for the belonging you gave me. I have never felt anywhere as welcoming as Cleo. As warm as Cleo (even as we struggled to pay for the oil bill) was. As kind and understanding. As tolerant. As questioning and inquisitive into what that tolerance meant to us. I am thankful, eternally, for what you all did for me. The incredible experiences I had as a Cleo make me proud of what the organization can represent, and one of my dying wishes is that the organization continues to reach out to marginalized communities on Trinity’s campus. There is much work to be done in making sure abusers cannot hide in our family, but I trust you all to do that work. Tucker Carlson is a Trinity grad and we must embody the opposite of what he stands for, no matter how difficult it may be. I could go on about how this means opposing liberals and Liberalism/Neo—Liberalism due to the truth of tolerance resulting in a Popper-esque Paradox of Tolerance that implies Popper is a worthwhile philosopher, but that’s another issue.

To my friends on that Blue Hellsite, tumblr, you made a continual presence worth it, even with all of the bullshit this place brings. It’s the reason I read so much Foucault, Derrida, Deleuze & Guattari, read Žižek against himself, and so on and so on, and the value of that to me can never be overstated. I learned so much from the ways in which I learned to analyze the world, and that in turn became a huge inspiration for why I should try to do what I could to make the world closer to a place of revolution, one where we could perhaps eke out a living for one another. I loved how much I could be an unrepentant nerd and still love hockey on there, and while the

NHL fans on tumblr are incredibly annoying,

I can deal with that compared to the racism of most hockey fans.

Mom, Dad? I just couldn’t live with you any longer. I’m so sorry.

Grandma, I love you.

And the things I leave behind? Donate what can be donated. Hats, please auction, or at least offer to other HatHeads at a reasonable price. I had some nice ones. As for assorted albums, clothing, and other things, sell them and donate to a Harm Reduction organization, or organizations that advocate for PWUD in a radical fashion. WE DESERVE AUTONOMY!

I am a victim of the War on Drugs. Sobriety was always hellish to me, and I could never take it. I want people to be able to live how they want, to see sobriety and being on drugs as equally valuable states, to see the two as no different from one another.

Abolish all gun laws

End the War on Terror

Decriminalize and legalize all drugs, sobriety is what killed me.

I love all of you.

LET’S GO ISLANDERS!

[riseandfxll]

Retribution, Chapter Eight

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven

Summary - Hailey gets shot while off-duty in a seemingly random attack, but what the intelligence unit uncovers while she’s in the hospital fighting for her life will change everything.

Sincerest apologies for the year long hiatus (if you can call it that). Another apology for the questionable writing - I haven’t written anything besides research assignments for over a year, so I’m a bit rusty, however I lost my tiny little mind over 8x03 & 8x04, so this was me trying to cope. 

[also posted on ff.net and ao3] & as always, story is not beta read (we die like men)

Jay was right, as per usual; the night had dragged on for so long that Hailey was almost certain the universe was messing with her. Even through the exhaustion plaguing every cell in her body, she felt content, Jay was still pressed up against her side in the hospital bed, slowing her heart rate and calming her electrified nerves as the pair continued flipping through the seemingly endless collage of faces that made up Hailey Upton’s career in the police force. It was something that the detective wouldn’t have been able to do with any other person, the memories of hard cases and victims that she had pushed so far down now threatening to escape. 

By the time the sun had risen the pair had been able to put together a list of nine names that were potential suspects. Criminals that Hailey had once locked away to keep innocent people safe, who now walked free once more. Jay was the first to lift the fog that had settled over the room, “I’ll call Vought, let him know we have potential names.” He told her, reluctantly swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Try get some sleep, yeah?” Jay placed a kiss between her eyebrows, smoothing down her rumpled hair before leaving the room.

Hailey sat in the quiet of her hospital room, the sounds of the machines connected to her by the wires that were still connected to her body echoed through the bare room. In the midst of all the chaos, Kim had managed to bring Hailey her go-bag, which now sat discarded in the corner waiting to be opened. She wouldn’t mind changing into her own clothes, instead of being stuck in a hospital gown that left everything on show for all to see. 

Taking in a deep breath, Hailey pushed herself up the bed, sitting up properly for the first time in almost 24 hours. Holding back a wince, she pushed the bedsheets back until they only covered her feet and ever so carefully manoeuvred her legs off the side of the bed, still trying to fight the persistent pain shooting through her body. Her feet just touching the floor as the door swung open, the fluorescent lights from the hallway barging into the room, along with Jay.

Jay reached her side in a matter of seconds, “What’s wrong? Why are you up? Do you need something?” his hands bracing her, moving to lie her back down.

She pushed his hands back off her, grabbing his shoulder to stay upright on the bed, “well I was trying to get some fresh clothes from my go bag,” she answered, “but I guess now that you’re back you can grab it for me.” She smirked at him playfully, pointing towards the black duffle on the floor.

Jay took a step back, turning in the direction of the bag before picking it up and placing it on one of the chairs. “There should be a button up flannel and a pair of sweats in there,” Hailey told her partner, “hopefully the buttons will make it easier to put on,” she continued, wincing as she tried to roll her right shoulder, even with the meds the doctors had given her, the pain was almost unbearable. 

“You really shouldn’t be moving, Hailey, you need rest.” He told her, putting the flannel and sweats on the bed beside his injured partner. 

“I’m sorry, I was under the impression that your brother was the doctor in the family,” Hailey snorted, a smile taking over her face. 

Jay made a face at her, “At least let me get the nurse to come and help you.” 

“They’re busy Jay, I’m not going to make them come all the way here just to help me put some clothes on.” Reaching for the clothes as she spoke, a wince escaping her lips as she tried and failed to swallow it back down. 

Jay took a step closer to the bed and taking the clothes from where Hailey had failed to retrieve them from and discarded the sweats on the side table before unfolding the shirt, “fine, if you won’t let them help you, at least let me.” His eyes met hers, searching for her response, “unless that’s too weird… or I can call Kim If you want?”

The smile crept back onto her lips as she watched her usually well-spoken and stoic partner fumble and stutter over the words. “It’s fine Jay, I don’t mind you helping me. And besides, it’s 5:30 in the morning. Do you want Kim to murder you?” Hailey joked, receiving a huff of laughter in reply. Kim Burgess was a lot of things, but a morning person, she was not. 

Hailey watched as Jay seemed to be contemplating how to go about dressing her, “let’s start with the sweats, yeah?” she offered, the words bringing jay back from his thoughts.

“Okay, yeah,” he replied, still not sounding completely sure of the situation. He rolled the legs of the grey pants up and crouched down in front of her. This definitely wasn’t what she imagined when she had thought about the detective on his knees in front of her, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t slightly enjoy it. Hailey helped line her first foot up with one of the pant legs, doing the same with the next, holding in a shiver as she felt her partners thumbs brush against her calves.

Jay slid the pants up Hailey’s legs, holding his breath as he felt her skin against his fingers. “Do you want to, uh, try stand up for a second?” he asked, clearing his throat.

Hailey only nodded, not wanting her voice to betray how Jay’s touch made her feel. How it made her react. She took his hand to steady herself, his callused hands rough but comforting against her hands, she felt safe with him. When they were together, it was as if none of the things that lurked in the shadows could get her. 

She braced her other hand against his shoulder as she let’s her feet touch the floor, feeling the cool of linoleum even through her socks as Jay began sliding the sweatpants up her legs, the warmth of the fabric a stark contrast to the cool of his touch.

He felt his heart start to race as he slid the pants up her thighs and under the stiff fabric of her hospital gown, listening to her breath become heavier, and the weight of her hands on his shoulders become more obvious as she fought to keep upright. Allowing his fingers to brush against the soft skin of her thighs as he started to stand; pulling the waistband over her hips to sit on waist, allowing his hands to rest over the fabric. 

Hailey lifted her head, her eyes meeting the intoxicating green of Jay’s, a slight smile toying on her lips as she whispered, “you know, if this whole detective thing doesn’t work out, you’d make a pretty decent nurse.” 

His eyes didn’t leave hers as he spoke, a laugh escaping from his throat, “good to know, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” Now it was his turn to lose his breath as he felt one of her hands slide from his shoulder to cup his jaw, a finger running over the slight stubble he’d let grow. 

“Hailey…” he breathed, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. God, he was absolute putty in her hands and she’d barely even touched him. 

Hailey’s breathing was equally as shaky as she smiled at him, still moving her thumb against his cheek.

Tears threatened to fall as he returned her smile, “I was so scared, Hails, I-I don’t know what I would have done if you had died…” this time he didn’t try to hide the emotion in his voice as he spoke, “I thought I’d lost you.” 

She used her hand to guide him down, his lips meeting hers. The kiss was soft, as if to say “I’m right here, Jay. I’m not going anywhere.”

She felt her own tears fall down her cheeks as they finally separated, giving him a small smile as their eyes met once more. “You know, this was the first time someone has put more clothes on me before kissing me.” 

Jay choked out a laugh “I guess I’m just not like the other guys then” he spoke, his words full of the humour and comfort that is always there when they’re together, bringing his lips back down to hers to kiss her once more.

[annerly-san]

Malignance - [Chapter 1: Anomaly]

Primary Character Pairing: Getou Suguru x Reader/Gender-Neutral OC Story Summary: You are a curse. A burden. You are a tumor that grows within me. A malignant cancer. Cursed upon conception at birth, “Akusei Shuyo” was born from the hatred and ire of humans to the form of a special human-curse hybrid. Knowing nothing but the foulness of human hatred, fear, and hostility, a single chance encounter with a human able to give something other than such putrid emotions opens up a dangerous relationship between a curse-human hybrid and a sorcerer that holds the potential ability to reign control over them. [A Getou Suguru x Gender-Neutral Reader/OC] Chapter Navigation: [Next chapter to be updated]

The building in front of them was ostentatious. Getou stared up at the towering black fence gate of intricate lattice work and geometric spires that pointed towards the clear blue sky ahead. All along his horizontal peripheral was an endless wall of modern-eqse beige and white concrete blocks that most likely bordered the perimeter of the entire area.

For a high school, this was overkill. Gojo, who was standing next to him with evident distaste on his face, seemed to share in his thoughts as the both of them shared a knowing gaze.

The duo had been standing at the front gate for an undeniably long time.

Getou was politely smiling at the guard positioned at the entrance as he stared and flipped through the papers and identification that Getou had provided him. Gojo, was glaring at the other guard at the post— lips pulled back to make a face full of confrontational disdain.

School security was important for sure, but the extent that this school had gone to was ludicrous.

“Tokyo Tech had sent you here on the request of the headmaster?”

“That’s correct.” Getou had maintained his calm smile, and it betrayed none of the growing irritation that was brewing within him— though that façade was quickly wearing thin. This was the fifth time the guard had asked.

“Hmm…” the papers were shuffled through again. “Alright. These seem legitimate, but let me ping the headmaster just to be certain.”

Getou began tapping his foot in impatience, and Gojo began to pace circles back and forth as the guard rang up the headmaster on his radio.

“Ah yes, I have Getou Suguru and Gojo Satoru here from Tokyo Tech at the front entrance and wanted to confirm that he has permission from you to be on the premises.”

The ring went through, and Getou simmered with an annoyance as the thought of why this was not done earlier crossed his mind.

“Yes. Yes. Alright, much appreciated, Headmaster.” The guard turned to him with an unwarranted look of doubt and disdain. “You can go in now.”

Getou nodded and waved a hand at the guard as he walked through the opening gates. He watched as Gojo stuck out a tongue and blew it at the guards before sauntering in, and Getou didn’t bother to stifle the laughter that came out of it.

The interior was more grandiose than the gate. It was to be expected, but it left him with a sickening sense of irritation given the circumstances he had faced only at the entrance.

Yaga-sensei had warned them about the school. It was an incredibly prestigious private high school in Tokyo that the rich often sent their kids to study at. Scholarships and admissions were also granted based upon merit and the school was known to turn out incredibly intellectual and talented students.

It seemed stifling to be honest, and given the amount of incidents that had arisen to warrant calling two special-grade sorcerers to the fray, the amount of cursed energy in the area should be crushing their bodies and souls whole. Yet, there was nearly no cursed energy in the area at all. Nothing.

Getou looked over to Gojo, who had the same look of confusion and bewilderment on his face.

“Do you think it’s actually a special grade object?” Gojo asked inquisitively as he pat one of the stone columns on the buildings they passed by. “From what the damage was, it has to be a higher-grade curse, and the fact that the place is as quiet as this is unusual.”

“Yeah,” Getou nodded in agreement. “I get it if there’s no lower-grade curses lurking around, but how is there just no cursed energy in this area at all?” He muttered as his eyes darted about the campus. Getou held out his hand and summoned a few lower-grade curses to help scout around the area. “It might make sense if it’s an object. But with how things have been, shouldn’t there be some residual energy leaking from loose seals?”

Their school had received a concerning request calling for the investigation and resolution of a series of unfortunate events that had been plaguing the students, faculty, and staff for the past year. From car accidents to suicides, to poisonings and to descents into insanity, the victims of the school were suffering from a wide array of misfortune that befell both themselves as well as their friends, family, and loved ones.

Getou could recall his first exposure to this mission in an unbearably vivid quality. It was a desecrated corpse that had been unclogged and pulled out of an apartment’s plumbing system a few weeks back. Mangled to pieces with organs strewn all over in an endless crimson pool of bloodied water overflowing in the sink, but what shook him more than the sight of the gruesome death was the pulsating mass of purple and green that had embedded itself into the decaying fragments of what was a human body.

Shoko, despite her tough stomach with her experience in handling corpses and the like in the school’s morgue, was the first to run outside the building to regurgitate any contents within her stomach, and Getou soon followed with Gojo in tow.

It wasn’t a curse but rather the residual of it. Each reported victim associated with the school had the same vein like mass attached to them one way or another. For the past several days, the trio had been chasing empty leads with the victims in the hopes of finding the cursed spirit, user, or object that had proliferated such a vile curse all over the area to no avail.

Gojo prodded the pale green mass and it blobbed about gelatinously before wobbling to a still on the head of a hospital patient who had gone brain-dead in a sudden coma.

“It doesn’t seem to be dangerous or anything-“ his musing was interrupted by the door of the room crashing open.

A family member of the deceased had chosen to walk in at the same time of their visit and the tears running down her face only marked the beginning fiasco of the hysteria she was about to let loose.

Getou and Gojo stood there awkwardly as they watched the girl cry hysterically as she clutched the arm of what appeared to be her deceased brother whilst she pathetically shook him back and forth. Getou, trying to avoid looking at the uncomfortable sight before him, made the poor mistake of focusing on the pale green blob as it jiggled back and forth with the sway of the vegetable on the hospital bed. Gojo must have been doing something similar as the quiet choking sounds of his friend trying to stifle a laugh served as an addition to the white noise of the buzzing hospital room. Getou nudged his friend and gave him a glare for his inconsideration whilst doing his best to not look at the bobbling elastic mass of pale green and lilac.

“A-are you two the ones that are looking into h-his… h-his a-accident?” The girl finally managed to choke out some amount of words before standing up with an uncanny rage burning in the back of her eyes.

Getou slipped his hands into his pockets as Gojo awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, we are.” Getou responded calmly. “Our sincerest condolences for your loss.”

A slam echoed in the quiet room as the girl dropped her book bag on the vinyl floor with a resounding thud. A burning rage in her eyes ignited as she stormed towards the two of them.

Getou froze and Gojo tensed up as she grabbed his shirt in a pleading manner— desperately looking up to him in a cry for help.

“P-PLEASE-“ she barely managed to get out. “IT’S THAT FUCKING SHUYO. THAT AKUSEI-“

Her words stopped there.

The blob that had been benign for the past several weeks of its encounter had latched onto the girl with its vein-like tendrils wrapping around the girl’s mouth and neck in a chokehold. Muffled screams grew higher and higher in pitch as Getou quickly reached out to pry it off of her, but it was too late and to no avail.

A loud crunch and pop sounded out in the room as the mass squeezed the body with a blinding compression and crushed her skull and popped her innards all over the hospital room floor. The pressure of the blood in her body released all at once and sprayed the fragments of what was once functional organs and tissue all over Getou and Gojo’s clothes.

Rhythmic dripping sounded against the vinyl tiles that were now crimson and covered in a growing puddle of blood and gore.

Getou could not move.

Frozen in place, he eyed the green blob resting on the exposed white spinal cord amidst the mass of fresh blood and tissue on the girl’s corpse as it pulsated slower and slower until it was benign once more.

Getou could hear Gojo vomit in the background as he stared in shocked horror at the mass of pure malevolence in front of him.

“She said… shuyo, didn’t she?” Gojo muttered as the two of them continued to traverse the campus. “Shuyo as in tumor?”

The words were spoken as though it were an insult to a person. To call someone a cancer was definitely a rare and degrading insult, but the way it was spoken in conjunction with malignance or “Akusei” was peculiar.

Akusei.

Shuyo.

Akusei Shuyo.

The words combined were a creative insult for sure. But the conjoinment of the two made for something far too literal to be used as such.

Unless it was actually someone’s name.

“She couldn’t mean… a person… right-?” Getou commented nervously at the insinuation of his words.

Gojo stared at him with a strange look on his face before turning to face straight ahead. “Shuyo… Akusei…”

The words meaning tumor, and the words meaning malignancy and evil nature.

A cold chill ran down his spine as Getou recalled the pale, green mass on the desecrated corpse of the girl in the hospital room

The curse residual was not unlike a malignant tumor in nature. Getou’s thoughts wandered as he walked alongside Gojo on the campus. That girl had called out for a “Akusei Shuyo”, but there was no possible way that she would have been able to see the cursed residual on her brother’s body as she was a regular human being. That ruled out the perpetrator being a curse. The manner of speaking implied a person rather than an object. Getou froze as Gojo continued to pace on ahead.

“Is it a curse user?” Getou asked aloud.

Gojo stopped and turned back to face him.

Before Getou could receive affirmation or denial from his companion, the tolling of the school bell rung and the walkways were beginning to become quickly saturated with students and staff transitioning back and forth for lunch and break.

The two of them stiffened at the sight.

Discretely attached to each and every body of the student and staff population that they were able to see at school was a pale green cluster of cancerous cells at risk of becoming malignant at any given moment.

[rantingcrocodile]

You made a good post, but get ready! Lesbians whose parents were kinda mean want you to know that they are ABSOLUTELY NOT PRIVILEGED over lesbians from fundamentalist communities that forced them into actual arranged marriages with men. I wish you the sincerest of luck.

The lack of reading comprehension is astounding.

Obviously it isn't a "privilege" for someone, for example, to come out and be made homeless, but it is absolutely homophobic victim-blaming if it turns into anything like, "Well, I'm still gold star despite homophobia, and if any lesbian couldn't do what I did, then they can't be a real lesbian."

It is a privilege to be able to be a lesbian who comes from enough of a supportive environment that they don't question themselves or feel pressured into "trying sex with a man".

I know what I said. They know what I've said. The few that don't like it are downright ignorant and are only interested in creating a pecking order to excommunicate lesbians that they don't like, to be homophobic and abusive, and then take advantage of the biphobic mini-culture in radfem spaces to use us as an excuse for that ignorant bullying.

It reminds me of Phillip Scofield, a well-known morning TV presenter in the UK, who came out, despite being married for 28 years and having two children. He thought that he was bisexual, but he's gay. I have not personally seen a single person claim, "He's just a homophobic bisexual claiming to be gay when he isn't." No. He came out, admitted he came to realise that he was gay, and it's now easily accepted.

Lesbians do the same thing, and suddenly they're only allowed to be bisexual. It's obscene.

The irony is that I'm told it has nothing to do with me, and that I'm not allowed to speak because I'm not a lesbian, when this homophobic set of beliefs actively harms bisexual women, too. All it does is promote homophobia against traumatised, confused thanks to patriarchy and homophobia women, and then adds to more claims of, "Look at how the bisexual women are taking over lesbian spaces!"

You're talking about lesbians in fundamentalist contexts, but I'm also talking about lesbians who aren't in fundamentalist contexts who are still afraid to come out.

It's ridiculous. It reminds me of the anti-feminists that claim, "Women can vote and it's illegal to not pay women the same as men, so how are you even oppressed?"

I mean, realistically, we're in a world where, right now, young lesbians with internalised homophobia are reacting to being lesbians by transitioning to claim to be straight men, and yet there's a belief that no lesbian ever could possibly feel forced to be in relationships with men due to internalised homophobia and heavy societal/familial/communal expectations? When homophobic hate crimes are still common when lesbians are out in the street with their partners? Really?

Are the lesbians of the past who married men and had children with them "not real lesbians" either?

This is exactly why I constantly repeat that too much theory online has rotted minds and made internet keyboard warriors forget actual, real life contexts.

I should not have to repeat a thousand times that I hate bisexual women that claim to be lesbians when they aren't. I keep saying how homophobic it is. I keep saying that it shouldn't be tolerated. It definitely happens. Those bisexual women should not be protected and should be held accountable for that appropriative homophobia. Political lesbianism is wrong, full stop. I'll keep repeating it if I have to, but it has nothing to do with what I'm talking about.

For the few people that want to liberate lesbians from oppression, yet refuse to accept the very real, common sense, historically proven fact that homophobia means that life can be incredibly difficult for some lesbians to come to terms with being lesbians, particularly older lesbians, is obscene.

If they genuinely hold those beliefs, then that's devastating and I feel upset for every lesbian they harm, and feel angry for every bisexual woman they blame unfairly.

Honestly though, I believe that the majority of that minority only use that discourse to silence lesbians that they don't like and use it as an excuse to be biphobic, all to enjoy their false sense of superiority. I would say that it's embarrassing for them to be that bone-deep stupid, but I feel worse for the lesbians who will be too terrified to admit dealing with those specific kinds of traumas, knowing that if they do share those stories, they'll forever be hounded as "not real lesbians" and attacked instead of given the support they fucking need and deserve.

And yes, I am selfish enough to also be angry that once again, for simply existing, I and other women like me are somehow used as an excuse for a small number of lesbians rubbing their hands with glee that they can be exclusive and gatekeep being lesbians over something that's basic common sense.

[xxbyimm]

A tale as old as time - Bard the bowman x OC - Chapter 2

Check out my Masterlist! Or new to this journey? Here’s chapter 1.

A tale as old as Time - Bard x OC - Chapter 2: A boat full of gravy

Summary:  Brea encounters more gravy than she bargained for... 

Warnings: ALFRID EW!

Taglist: @soradragon​ @pistachiozombie​ @legolaslovely​ @tomisbaeholland​ @saviorsong​ @swoopswishsward​ @fizzyxcustard​ @deepestfirefun​ @ruthoakenshield​ @mariannetora​ @goldrun​ @marvel-ous-hobbit​ @humongousgalaxycoffee​ If you don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on!

When Jenessa prodded her big sister’s waist for the third time to help regain attentiveness to the conversations around the dinner table, Brea knew she was doing it again. After everything that had happened, she had sworn never to become a victim of excessive daydreams and complete lack of focus again. But here she was… Going down the drain already.

Unfortunately, Brea knew exactly what was going to happen. Soon her usual calmness and practical view of life would be thrown out of the window and she would start dedicating her time by trying to catch a glimpse of the object of her affections. She could only hope that this time her feelings were not reciprocated. Because if this was going to be anything like last time, she had a problem.

And problems like that, as the case of Ruthron had taught her, should be avoided like the plague…

It all started last spring, just over a year ago. On a particularly dreary morning, Mîrhel had dragged her eldest daughter to a gathering in the city hall. Brea didn’t care for politics, nor did the latest fashions of court interest her in the slightest, but her mother had been quite adamant. So Mîrhel’s eldest did what any obedient daughter would do.

As the noble ladies chatted away about unimportant matters, Brea’s mind had travelled to the interesting material she had read in her father’s study earlier this morning. The consequences would be dire if father ever found out she had been reading in the surgical handbook he had bought for his ever growing collection, but that didn’t frighten her. After all, she had just turned twenty-four.

According to Mîrhel, Brea was already past the proper age of procuring a suitable match, but Brea did not wish to marry- at least not yet. She was eager to learn more about the real world she lived in, not the ever boring topics the noble, married women confined themselves to. The purpose of life should be to enlighten oneself, not waste time talking about… embroideries.

So while her mind was considering the texts she had read, her gaze had travelled through the room and stopped at a handsome palace guard in the nearest corner. He possessed the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen and she could not help but stare at him for a few seconds, maybe even wondering who he was.

That answer came sooner than she would have guessed, in the form of mister handsome guard’s future wife. Apparently, the most ignorant girl in the room also turned out to be his betrothed. She could not stop bragging about her impending union with her Ruthron, the son of the head of the Citadel. Brea thought the girl was a brat and decided if that was the guard’s type -no matter how handsome his looks-, she should stay far away from him.

Ruthron later had told Brea he never cared for his future wife and he always desperately was seeking for ways to avoid her. They had been betrothed by a special agreement, made by their parents when they were mere infants. Ruthron had lost count how many times he had argued with his dad about this ridiculous contract, but no matter how much he tried, his father could not be swayed. Ruthron would have to marry Margery.

But love knows no bounderies. And when Ruthron first laid his eyes on Brenion’s eldest daughter on that rainy morning, he knew.

Convincing Brea to give him a chance hadn’t been easy, but before they both knew it they were falling hard. In hindsight, Brea believed that falling in love with Ruthron was as easy as falling asleep, how could someone not? He was an handsome guy, proud of his heritage and loyal to the ones he loved. He could be mischievous at times and made her laugh even when she was in a foul mood. They shared interests like medicine (a profession Ruthron’s father hadn’t allowed his son to pursue) and could talk for hours. But more importantly- he didn’t see her as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, but just as Brea. When she was with him, she felt alive. When he held her, the world shrunk unto the two of them. She was sure she’d never experience a love like this again, which was why she was to prepared to gamble with her life, her reputation, to risk it all for a chance to be together.

But in the end, not even her purest intentions were able to save her lover from his ultimate fate...

‘Brea!’ Mîrhel insisted with a hiss, alarming her eldest daughter. ‘The master asked you a question!’ ‘Oh!’ She murmured, quickly raising her gaze and meeting the master’s unpleasant stare. Ruthron’s handsome face disappeared and Brea was back at the stuffy dining room in the town’s hall again. ‘Forgive me, uncle. I was appreciating the rich flavours of the meal you so kindly provided tonight…’ She smiled innocently. ‘I simply lost track of all else…’

There was a short silence, in which the whole room seemed to hold their breath while waiting for the master’s reaction. Brea smiled even brighter and relief washed over her body when her uncle started to laugh. ‘You’re forgiven, my child.’ He boomed. ‘I’m glad you and I have the same, refined taste, my dear.’

Ugh. Hardly. Brea eyed the fat, greasy red-haired man as he happily devoured another piece of meat before looking down at her own plate. She then shot a glance at her mother (‘Please, don’t make me eat this!’) and finally settled for the inevitable. Just a few more bites…

The remnants of the meat pie on her plate didn’t smell anything like the apple pie she had enjoyed yesterday. It had been the best pastry she had tasted in all her life and since she originated from the big city of Minas Tirith, that truly said something. The Bardlings had been too kind, allowing her and Jen to stay for over an hour. The family had kept a lively discussion going about various topics and as Sigrid and Jen tried to outsmart each other, Brea more than once caught the bargeman’s gaze. There had been this soft, sweet expression in his eyes that caused more reaction inside her than she’d like to admit…

Brea suppressed a shiver as she picked up a piece of meat with her fork. She didn’t know what part of a poor animal this was, but since her uncle had a rather unsavoury preference for bollocks, she really did not like to find out anyway. Careful to spill none of it on her favourite light blue dress, she opened her mouth and caught the food between her teeth. When she saw her father looking rather sternly at her, she started chewing. There was far too much gravy in this pie. Who even came up with this horrid thing?

‘Would you like some gravy with that, miss?’ Alfrid lisped in her ear. Brea couldn’t help herself and jerked to the side, almost ending up on Jen’s lap. The master’s deputy was hovering over her, holding a stained gravy boat in his right hand. She smiled faintly, but then shook her head before swallowing the big lump of meat. Of course. Alfrid. Who else in this wretched town?

‘You’re too kind, but I’m all set.’ She ensured him. ‘Thank you.’ Alfrid bowed deeply, not aware that he was making her uncomfortable. He smelled of sweat, fish and gravy. Brea held her breath and fixated her eyes on her plate. She had managed her way through most of the disgusting filling and now was left with the crust, which was both doughy and tough. A quick estimate told her she had to suffer three more bites, that is if their host hadn’t prepared something for dessert.

If she had been paying attention to Alfrid instead of the sad content on her plate, she would have noticed that his eyes were on the soft swelling of her breasts beneath the low neckline of her dress, not on what was in his hands. His grip on the sauceboat loosened.

As it tilted, all the gravy fell in one big lump over the edge, splashing on its poor victim below.

‘Oh!’ Brea cried out, absolutely horrified by the thick fluid running over her shoulder. It dribbled over her dress before most of it disappeared beneath her bodice. ‘Oh, miss- miss Brea!’ Alfrid stammered. ‘My sincerest apologies. Let me help you-’

Before Brea knew it, total chaos developed around her. Alfrid tried to get the gravy boat out of harm’s way, but managed to swing the last of its contents on the floor and then quickly exited the room while shouting for the town’s hall poor servant. Jen and her mom simultaneously rushed from their seats to help out their kin, as Brea was already dabbing the most tainted places with her napkin.

In her haste to aid her daughter, Mîrhel did not notice the puddle of gravy on the floor and stepped on it. Though the fluid could not possibly be as slippery as Alfrid, it did manage to take its victim down. With a loud cry, Mîrhel slipped and fell backwards, her head barely missing the edge of the table. Brenion cursed and shot up to help his wife. He moved more careful, but still had to steady himself against the dining table in order not to trip. Brea got up too, suddenly forgetting about the state she was in, and crouched down to check on her mother.

‘Mother! Are you alright?’ Mîrhel smiled sourly, leaning on her husband while he helped her up into her chair. ‘Yes, Brea. I am. Just a fright, that’s all.’

From the head of the table, the master of Laketown had been watching the whole scene enveloping before his eyes, yet he still hadn’t said or done anything to comfort his guests. As Brenion was fussing over Mîrhel, Brea looked up at the man and a gulf of hatred resonated through her. He was a spiteful, vile man and she couldn’t believe that her father had let himself persuaded by this despicable person to move to Laketown…

‘What a waste of all that gravy!’ the master suddenly boomed. Brenion and his family stared at him. Next to her older sister, Jen shuffled with her napkin in an attempt to hide her silly grin. Brea heaved a sigh and shot her little sister a glance. Leave it up to Jen to find humour in a rather peculiar situation…

‘Agreed, brother.’ Brenion finally said, though hesitantly. ‘It is. But who would have thought that a gravy boat could lead to such an amusing order of events!’

Both men started to laugh and then resumed their conversation. Brea caught her mother’s gaze, the latter barely capable of hiding her emotions of pure shock. They listened in silence as the clattering noises in the hallway grew louder.

Alfrid returned, with the town’s hall female servant in tow. Her arms were filled with rags and somehow she also managed to carry a bucket filled with water. ‘Clean this up.’ Alfrid said nastily to the servant while roughly shoving her out of his way. The woman staggered, fighting hard to keep her balance. Brea opened her mouth to say something about his absolute rudeness, but below the table her mom kicked her daughter’s shins.

‘We will sort this out in a second, miss Brea.’ Alfrid chatted on, grabbing a rag and drenching it with water. He then moved towards her. ‘I have just the-’ ‘That will not be necessary!’ Brea hissed furiously, while grabbing his wrist and keeping his filthy fingers and wet cloth away from her. ‘But there’s still-’ the master’s deputy began. ‘I can see that, I have eyes.’ Brea cut him off rather haughtily. ‘I fear this dress needs to be washed entirely to get all the stains out.’

The next morning, Brea left with Jen to walk across town. Though Mîrhel still wasn’t too happy with her daughters strolling through Laketown without a proper chaperone (especially after coming home way past teatime only two days ago), the events of last night had exhausted all of them. When Brenion resumed the evening like nothing had happened, Mîrhel had stepped up and asked her brother-in-law if she and her daughters could be excused for the rest of the night. Begrudgingly, the master of Laketown had allowed them to go.

Alfrid had been watching them leave and Brea had felt nasty glare burning in her back until she had reached the safety of their home.

But all was over now and the sisters were safely wandering over the docks. Brea watched a few boatmen heaving cargo from their ships and enjoyed the soft breeze on her face, as Jen was having an animated conversation with one of the boatmen’s wives.

‘How was it?’ A soft voice suddenly behind Brea inquired. ‘Please tell me it was as bad as it sounded.’ Brea giggled and swirled around. Her grey eyes met with Bard’s hazelnut ones. ‘It’s good to see you alive and well.’ Bard said. ‘When I spoke Hilda-Bianca, she made it sound like you were devoured by the man himself.’ ‘Oh, there was gravy everywhere.’ Brea informed him, not surprised by now the whole town knew of last night’s events. ‘After rushing home, I took two baths and another one this morning, but it’s still there. As is the smell of Alfrid. My sincerest apologies.’ He sniffed before sending her a reassuring smile. ‘No, I think you’re fine.’ Brea pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. ‘That’s because you’re not close enough to me.’ The bargeman furrowed his brows together and took a step closer, until the distance between them was hardly ten centimetres. It was impossible not to notice the rancid flavour she bore with her, so she was surprised he still was by her side. His scent was far more pleasant anyway… it was light and heavy at the same time, somehow reminding her of a long, lovely walk in the woods. Brea’s heart jumped and she licked her lips. ‘Still nothing.’ Bard spoke softly. ‘I’d say you rather smell of flowers than a boatful of gravy.’ ‘You are lying, master Bard!’ He smiled faintly before leaning in. His whisper tickled her ear. ‘No, I am not.’

Her heart was racing inside her chest now. Brea watched his gorgeous features and briefly wondered why she hadn’t seen his wife yet. And how had he not been claimed by another lady if the children’s mother wasn’t around anymore…

Bard’s reassuring smile suddenly turned into a scowl and he reached for her neck. ‘What’s that?’ he murmured. ‘Is that…?’ ‘What?’ she gulped, panic assembling in her throat.

Oh goodness! Did she forget to scrub someplace? Or worse: did he somehow hear her shameful thoughts?

The bargeman smirked, his fingers ghosting over the skin behind her ear. Brea suppressed a shiver. ‘Just kidding, miss…’ he said with a small smile. They were still standing inappropriately close to each other, but neither showed the inclination to move away. Brea’s skin was still burning on the places where he had touched her and she found it particularly difficult to breathe. ‘So.’ She murmured softly. ‘You’re relishing in my misfortune. How ungentlemanlike.’ He chuckled lowly. ‘Well, maybe Alfrid was right about me and my family…’ ‘Really?’ Brea inquired. ‘At least you haven’t poured gravy down my neck, master Bard.’ ‘Not yet, miss Brea. Not yet.’ He mused with a sly smile, earning a giggle from her.

Somewhere in the distance, Brea heard Jenessa laughing. Rather annoyed by the disturbance, she glanced over at her sister. Jen now was charming one of the younger lads working at the docks. Brea heaved a weary sigh before turning to Bard.

‘I’m sorry. I have to go save my sister, before she ruins her reputation.’ ‘By merely conversing with that poor lad?’ Bard frowned. ‘I know him, he’s from a decent family.’ Brea groaned. ‘Oh, that’s not the problem. You don’t know Jen.’ ‘She seems like a passionate, kind young woman.’ He said. ‘Someone who knows what she wants.’ ‘That’s true.’ Brea replied. ‘But she’s a dreamer too. And that often leads her to forgetting there’s such a thing as etiquette and a fragile woman’s reputation. She just follows her instincts and let those guide her.’ ‘So she lives her life without regret.’ Bard concluded. ‘Has she learned that from you?’ Brea shook her head. ‘I tried that once. It did not work out.’

‘Ah! There you are!’ A nasty voice called out over the docks. ‘Miss Brea!’ They turned around and much to her shock, Alfrid was making his way towards them. Bard smiled politely, but his eyes flashed with a much darker emotion. Brea grabbed a hold of the bargeman’s sleeve, making him turn to her in surprise. ‘Do not leave me alone with that horrible man.’ She begged. ‘I’m fairly sure he’ll want to make amends with me and I’m not inclined to accept anything he has to offer.’ ‘You could just tell him that, miss.’ Bard declared. ‘The trick is not to be subtle.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t, the master of this town is-’

‘Well well…’ Alfrid said maliciously while forcing himself into their conversation. ‘Who do we have here? If it isn’t Bard, our bargeman. Don’t you have work to do?’ ‘Always a delight to see you, Alfrid.’ Bard replied coldly. ‘I could ask the same of you.’ ‘I’m tending to the master’s business, which is none of yours anyway.’ The master’s deputy retorted. ‘I came her in search of miss Brea. I need to speak to her.’ ‘What for? I believe already told you that I don’t need another apology.’ Brea said. ‘It’s alright, it was an accident and I’m over it.’ Alfrid inclined his head. ‘You’re too kind, miss. But I came here to inform you I’ve ordered the tailor to make you a new dress. It’s the least I can do after ruining your last one.’

For a moment, Brea stared at him. But Alfrid merely peered back at her. He did not start to cackle, nor did he explain to her it was a joke. He just seemed deadly serious. She shuffled on her feet. Though she did not want to accept this outrageous apology, she knew she had no choice. ‘No, you’re the one who is too kind.’ She conceded. ’I’m glad to accept your offer.’ Alfrid grinned and bowed shortly before turning his attention to Bard again. ‘Get to work, bargeman.’ He sneered. ‘Don’t you have mouths to feed?’ Bard narrowed his eyes. His jaw was clenched and Brea watched him as his gaze bore through the master’s deputy. There was a short silence, before Alfrid gave in and stalked off. ‘Be sure to give the tailor your measurements, miss Brea.’ He shouted at her before disappearing in the busy streets again.

Brea turned to the bargeman, who still looked like he was ready to punch a certain someone in the face. ‘Hey.’ She said softly and without thinking her fingers reached out to his arm once more. ‘He’s not worth it.’ Bard relaxed under her touch and smiled gently. ‘Well, at least he won’t order a dress for me. Didn’t you just say you weren’t inclined to accept anything?’ ‘I wasn’t.’ She muttered. His body warmth under her fingers made her aware of the little pulses that had started vibrate through her hands. It was a pleasant feeling, though it completely distracted her from their conversation. ‘Then why did you?’ She peered at him through her lashes. ‘Did what?’ ‘Accept that dress.’ He mused. ‘Oh. Yes.’ She blurted out, quickly moving her hand away. ‘My father. He will have my head if I’m rude to anyone influential, even someone despicable as Alfrid.’ ’And that’s exactly why your father shouldn’t care about him.’ ‘Maybe.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well miss, I fear I have to leave you here. As much as I dislike that horrible creature, he’s right. I do have work to do.’ She nodded shortly and took a step back. ‘Of course.’ ‘In the meantime…’ he advised. ‘Do mind any gravy boats coming your way, will you?’ Brea grinned and waved. ‘I promise, good sir.’

She watched him boarding his boat which was docked nearby. He was moving with grace and certainty, clearly knowing his way around the boat and the waters. Once all was set, he reached for the push pole that was secured at the back end of the boat. Before he set off to the lake, the bargeman turned to look at the docks once more and caught her gaze. Brea bit her lip and couldn’t help but to smile foolishly.

‘Did you know his wife died?’ Jen suddenly hummed in Brea’s ear. ‘He was so heartbroken that he never remarried.’ ‘Jenessa!’ Brea cried out indignantly, ignoring the pleasant jolt in her abdomen. ‘Why would you say such an awful thing?!’ Jen shrugged. ‘I just wanted to give you some good news after the disaster yesterday.’ ‘How is someone’s wife dying good news?!’ Brea said. ‘Who even told you that?’ Her little sister pursed her lips together. ‘Sigrid did. I asked her about her mother and she explained that their ma died eleven years ago, shortly after giving birth to Tilda.’ Brea watched Bard and his boat disappear on the lake. ‘That must have been absolutely devastating for them.’ She whispered. ‘Not to mention the burden Tilda will carry with her for the rest of her life…’ ‘Luckily she still has her da, and her big brother and sister.’ Jen commented. ‘They are all very close.’ ‘I’ve noticed.’ Brea agreed. ‘They are a beautiful family.’ Jen glanced at her sister knowingly. ‘You fancy him, don’t you?’ ‘What?’ Brea shrieked, her cheeks already burning up. ‘Why would you think that?’ ‘The way you look at him.’ Her sister explained. ‘I’ve seen that same gaze with-’ ‘Do not say his name.’ Brea hissed. ‘I warn you.’ ‘Okay!’ Jen quickly gave in, holding up her hands in surrender. ‘I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.’ Brea heaved a sigh. ‘I know, Jenny. But believe me, I do not fancy Bard. Sure, I like him, but I also adore his family. I think they’re good people who deserve a lot more respect from the master.’ Jen pulled her sister into an hug. ‘It’s the fact that they’re good people, that gets them into trouble. Sigrid is worried that her dad - I mean master Bard -’ ‘You seem to share a lot of thoughts with your new friend.’ Brea teased. ‘What’s up with that?’ Jen giggled happily. ‘Yes, she has an amazing vibe to her, just like her dad. When I met her at the market, I instantly knew I would like her very much…’

The next few weeks, Brea and Jen received more freedom. After everything that had happened in Minas Tirith (and not even taking their recent tea party in account), they both did not understand what had made their mother loosen the reigns, but they knew it was better not to ask. So instead, they enjoyed their renewed privileges.

Jen was often out and about in the town, spending time with Sigrid and Tilda. Brea enjoyed to take a daily walk in the early hours, because it meant Alfrid wasn’t there to harass her.

It also meant she would often run into Bard. Though Brea would rather die than to admit it, these daily short talks were the reason she was venturing outside anyway. He appeared in her dreams every night and if she could increase the chance of bumping into him, she’d gladly take it.

To ease her conscience (and an attempt to slam down any suspicion), Brea didn’t mind to run errands for her mother. That even sometimes meant to collect Jen from Bard’s home, which was a delight.

Brea knew she had to set her priorities straight, but she couldn’t see anything wrong with their friendship. Sure, maybe her motivations were slightly discreditable, but Bard was the representation of a perfectly honourable guy. He always was polite to her, and his kindness knew no boundaries. She also learned his mind was bright and as quick as a whip. In fact, when Bard wasn’t keeping his family safe and well-fed, he liked to pursue other interests like reading and archery.

There had been a few moments in which she had wondered if he was actually flirting with her, but each time it took her a few seconds to gather the courage to ask him what he meant and by then he already had changed the subject.

On this particular late afternoon, Brea had just collected her new dress from the tailor (that is, the dress Alfrid had picked out for her) and was making her way towards her home when she bumped into Hilda-Bianca. Ever since the dark haired woman, who was always wearing this strange ornate hat, had prevented Brea from paying too much at the market, Brea had developed a tight bond with her.

‘Hello Brea!’ Hilda-Bianca said with a gentle smile. ‘It’s strange to see you here, after what happened to your sister just an hour ago. Is she well?’ Brea felt the blood draining from her face and she almost dropped her package on the wooden docks. ‘I’ve been out all afternoon. What happened to Jen?’ ‘She tripped and fell in the water.’ Hilda-Bianca explained. ‘It happens to the best of us.’ ‘My sister can’t swim.’ Brea fretted. ‘Is she alright?’ ‘Yes, we noticed. Which is odd don’t you think?’ her friend said. ‘But not to worry, Bard just arrived in time. He dove in straight away and carried her to your home.’ Brea shook her head. ‘We grew up in Minas Tirith, so we never had the need to. I learned it only last year, from…’

She swallowed her last words. It had been Ruthron who taught her how to swim, during their secret getaways to Osgiliath…

‘No matter. Thank you, Hilda. I must go now!’ She stuck the package under her arm, gathered the seams of her dress in her hands and broke into a run.

When she finally reached her home, she was out of breath. She rushed through the backdoor, before slamming it in its frame. She threw the package containing her new dress on the kitchen counter and was ready to run upstairs when-

In her haste, she hadn’t noticed that Bard was sitting near the hearth. He was holding a cup containing a warm beverage and seemed to be wearing some of her father’s clothing. ‘Oh!’ she gasped, her cheeks flushing. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, master Bard.’ The bargeman raised from his chair and smiled gently. ‘It’s fine, miss.’ ‘I just heard… How’s Jen? And how are you?’ Brea worried. ‘And what happened?’ Bard put his cup away and moved through the kitchen towards her. ‘Jen is fine. She’s upstairs in bed and your parents are with her.’ He assured her. ‘She told me she wasn’t watching where her feet were going and before she knew it, she was in the water.’ ‘She can’t swim.’ Brea mumbled. ‘We never learned, it seemed insignificant to do so… Until now.’ ‘Luckily I was just done for the day, which meant I was near.’ Bard continued. ‘She wasn’t in the water for long.’

Brea looked up at his handsome face and her heart fluttered. The feelings she had repressed for the past few weeks, started to pulsate in her veins, making her breaths unsteady and her mind dizzy. Upon leaving Minas Tirith, she had sworn never to love again, but this… Bard was…

Her eyes brimmed with emotion and Brea realized restraining herself was pointless. With a soft cry, she jumped into his arms. Bard gasped in surprise, but caught her anyway. With his arms wrapped safely around her and her face buried in his neck, Brea felt a sense of safety she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

‘Oh, you incredible man…’ she whispered shakily. ‘Thank you.’ ‘Really, it’s nothing.’ He breathed. ‘I only did what anyone would have…’ ‘Shut up.’ Brea said and she could almost feel his smile.

They stood there in silence. Brea listened to his heart beating in his chest and revered in his warmth. His scent enveloped her being. ‘Brea.’ He spoke and she shifted. He was watching her with a soft look in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. ‘We should not be standing like this.’ He tried, but at the same time he did not make an attempt to move away. ‘No.’ Brea agreed, doing the same. He and his gorgeous hazelnut eyes were mesmerizing, she could not tear herself away.

‘Your eyes are more blue than anything today.’ Bard murmured. ‘But I could swear yesterday they were more of a green shade.’ ‘It’s because- I mean… the colour of my dress.’ Brea explained, but her voice was no more than a whisper. His fingers ghosted over her jawline, his calloused hands leaving a burning trail on her skin. He sent her a rather rueful smile, the one Brea had gotten quite familiar with over the past few weeks. Whenever he came closer or when they had a good time, he always looked like he was sorry for it. Almost as if he felt somehow guilty…

‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered. ‘I can’t-’ he momentarily closed his eyes and stopped. ‘I won’t.’ ‘Won’t what?’ Bard clenched his jaw before answering. ‘You are so young, Brea.’ He then said. ‘And I’m an old man. This is foolery.’ ‘Foolery, huh?!’ she purred, sounding far more brave than she felt. Her tongue darted over her lips before she reduced even the small distance that still was between them.

A loud thud from upstairs shook them up and broke their embrace. Bard almost leaped backwards and then paced towards the door. ‘Tell your father I had to leave and that I’m sorry.’ He spoke, without really looking at her face. ‘I have work to do.’ ‘But-’ Brea objected, but before she could even voice her thoughts, he was gone…

Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Feedback is always welcome.  Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :) And here’s my Masterlist.

[radishtears]

gently, we fall

grey

... ... ...

A small bit: There had been Lan Sect disciples among Jin Zixun’s troupe. Hanguang-jun wasn’t happy about that.  

... ... ...

“Er-ge.”

Lan Xichen turns to find Jin Guangyao behind him.

“A-Yao, you’ve worked hard.”

After Jin Zixun’s sentence had fallen, Jin Guangshan had hurried out of the hall, leaving the remaining mess to his sons.

Naturally, Jin Zixuan had taken on the task of looking after his distraught wife and her family. For once, Jin Guangyao does not envy him at all.

“Er-ge, the matters on my side have mostly wrapped up. It’s just that...” Jin Guangyao hesitates. “It’s just that there were Lan disciples among Zixun’s party and I thought it was best to leave them to you.”

Lan Xichen is taken aback. He...had no idea.  

“I... Of course, A-Yao. My sect has caused you trouble; my sincerest apologies.”

“No, no, Er-ge. It’s no fault of yours.”

They exchange a few more pleasantries before parting ways. Lan Xichen digests this information as he walks, very slowly. He doesn’t know how to face his brother.

...

Lan Wangji already knew. He had been there after all. He’d seen the white robes among the gold, bows and arrows in hand.

For the first time, he thinks Wei Ying was right to compare their sect uniform to mourning clothes.

He stares straight ahead as the two brother stand facing a solemn-faced Lan Qiren.

“It is a great shame that such a disgraceful event has come to pass,” the elder says. “Even though Wei Ying had committed many faults, he was certainly the victim in this matter.”

Lan Xichen is about to voice his agreement when Lan Wangji speaks.

“Uncle. What faults have Wei Ying committed?”

Lan Qiren frowns. “He has deviated from the righteous path and taken lives carelessly. Is that not wrong, Wangji?”

“Wangji...does not know.”

Lan Wangji bows his head in acquiescence.

“Wangji asks for Uncle’s advice. Was it wrong for Wei Ying to avenge his family with demonic cultivation? Uncle, I saw those Wens on the Burial Mounds. Was it wrong for him to save those doctors, women and children?

“Did Wei Ying’s actions warrant punishment of death? Simply because he cultivated a different path?”

Lan Qiren stares wide-eyed down at this esteemed nephew of his. He is a reasonable man and as much as he detests demonic cultivation, he finds he cannot give a steadfast answer.

It is Lan Xichen who breaks the tense silence.

“There is one other matter, Uncle. Young Master Jin Zixun’s party also included several of our own disciples. They will receive the appropriate punishment.”

Lan Xichen bows.

“Mn.” Lan Qiren runs a hand through his thin beard. “I trust you will handle—“

“They will be expelled from the sect.”

“...Wangji?”

Lan Xichen startles and turns to look at his brother. Lan Wangji does not return his gaze. His posture is proper as always but Lan Xichen notices a rigidness in his shoulders.

“They lay judgement without understanding the situation, without knowing the full truth. Their actions led to an outcome that is...that is irreparable.”

Lan Qiren considers this.

“That may be so. However, as they were not the instigators of this event, they stand to learn from their mistakes. A second—“

For the second time Lan Qiren is interrupted.

“Uncle! There is no second chance.” Lan Wangji takes a barely noticeable breath. “There...won’t be another chance. As disciples of this sect, they have not learned our core teachings...and are not fit to study here any further.”  

In this moment, Lan Xichen is genuinely afraid that his brother would announce that he too is leaving the Lan Sect.

Their uncle may not understand but Lan Xichen? What kind of older brother would he be if he didn’t realize who Wangji wanted to bring back and hide away? And if he didn’t fully understand the depth of Wangji’s feelings before, he is beginning to see now.

Lan Xichen hurries to speak before Lan Qiren can.

“Wangji’s suggestion is within reason. Uncle, I implore you to contemplate this matter further. I too will take my punishment for lack of oversight and...for judging without knowing the full truth.”

...  

Lan Xichen remains a step behind Lan Wangji as they take their leave. Their silhouettes are alike, as onlookers like to point out. But today, Lan Xichen thinks they surely would be easy to tell apart.

There is a heavy slope to his brother’s shoulders, a lonely figure framed in the wide entrance of the hall. Somehow, Lan Xichen is reminded of a much smaller figure kneeling in the snow. Only this time, it is rain that falls and stains white cloth.

He steps out the door just as the first droplets fall.

... ... ...

My WWX-biased mind believes LQR will eventually come to secretly like WWX and see him as a junior to be proud of. Maybe post-marriage. But before that, I do think LQR had formed a bad impression of him and that coloured his judgement of him afterwards. Yeah, I admit, I’m a tiny bit mad at him automatically believing the worst of my poor baby.  No! You must love WWX! 😂

Ko-fi

[punkscowardschampions]

Saint & Leilani

Saint: How's it going? 🙂 Leilani: it's going as expected Saint: I know how to answer questions without saying anything, remember Saint: you can't fool me Leilani: I was relying on the 😇 thing to do being you pretending you believed me Saint: You'd think so, but the issue lies in if that would require me to leave you in discomfort Saint: which would be nothing but the worst manners Saint: okay, what's one thing that's been okay and what's one thing that I could help make a bit better? Leilani: the kids are extremely adorable in their costumes, I'm in support of that Leilani: & how many of the grown ups decided to go in on this too Leilani: but maybe I was hoping you were that kind of big brother & your other sisters & brothers weren't as young as they are Saint: The majority love an event, that's true Saint: I don't know if it's a genetic thing or a cultural, but it's always been like this Saint: I'm sure the twins would have you know they're very mature for their age Saint: 🤔 how about I introduce you to Mattie? Saint: She's about your age Leilani: 😅 yeah I'm considering taking one of them with me since you already made the offer Leilani: she's Jay's sister, right? Saint: Correct Saint: she's similarly more chilled out too Saint: maybe less adorable than the kids but she shouldn't object to hanging out, kidnap might be a step too far tonight but Leilani: I don't know, it's a good costume, some people would still say adorable Saint: 😅 Saint: a good opener Leilani: thanks, I'll use it Saint: 👍 have fun Saint: let me know what you think, and if I need to get my wings into gear and do more Leilani: [pretend she's been chatting to her for ages because I feel like they'd get on, soz she don't go to your school hun] Leilani: I am now so I guess your wings won't be falling off Saint: [always the way, at least you will have an ally at these functions] Saint: 😁😁😁 Leilani: take a 🍭 Saint: 😏 More counterintuitive than the sticker ⭐ Saint: definitely finding you a new dream before you wreck the 🦷 of every kid in Dublin just to fix them again Saint: very 😈 of you Leilani: 😅😅 Leilani: maybe I'll become a vet if Grace agrees to the 🐱 Saint: What about the 🩸? Saint: though you seem to cope with the fake Leilani: oh yeah.... Leilani: I was only thinking about the 😁 parts again Saint: I do hate to be the 🌧 on your parade... Saint: it's pretty adorable how 🌤 you are Leilani: but you do need to step in there before I fully commit & get genuinely 🩸 splattered Saint: I can promise that without feeling I'm giving you unfair expectations Leilani: it'd be awkward if you had to take that costume off on account of being 😈 Saint: it really would Saint: the feathers aren't leaving much to the imagination as is 😬 Saint: no one wants that Leilani: you're not 👶🏽 enough to be running around without clothes Saint: Ahh Saint: so tough being the oldest Saint: suppose I should leave some 🍭 🍬 🍫 for the kids too? Leilani: I can't promise to fix your 🦷 either way Saint: I'll make sure to brush well tonight when I'm defeathering in the privacy of my own room Saint: I like your ears, by the way Leilani: I'll resist the urge to come & watch over you since you're the one who can fly & I'll never be a qualified dentist Leilani: thanks, I keep forgetting they're there so for a moment that was an unusual compliment Saint: I'll send you a picture if you like Saint: for evidence Saint: I'm sure your real ears are lovely too 😂 Leilani: what am I supposed to send you a picture back of, in line with you wanting to work for the government? Leilani: like, I could salute but that's getting into a weird girl guide territory Leilani: & I've never been camping Saint: Oh dear Saint: the less pictures I have of underage girls the better, I think Saint: too young for the scandal yet but best to start as I mean to go on Saint: my family aren't big campers, if you can believe it Saint: but I've been with my grandma, and for this young leaders thing I did last year Leilani: I probably shouldn't fill my phone with pictures of older boy's dazzling teeth either, my mum is very overprotective Leilani: was, I mean Leilani: maybe she'd come back & haunt me Saint: Potentially Saint: though I can try to assure her and you my teeth are not at all predatory, this might not come across as sincere with my pearly whites 😁😬 Leilani: if your teeth are harmless, you might need a dentist sooner than I could become one Saint: 🧛 gotcha Saint: okay, so not harmless, but your neck is safe Leilani: why do they bite their victims somewhere literally everyone can see? Leilani: I'd be more secretive if my goal was to live undetected forever in some moody castle Saint: You can cross vampire off your list too, you're clearly overqualified Saint: I think it's about that sweet, sweet jugular vein but there's plenty of others that are less of a Saint: 'look what I did' Leilani: maybe whoever wrote the 1st 🧛📕 didn't want to commit to going under the clothes Leilani: it was racy stuff already Saint: also potential code for same-sex relationships? Saint: but what wasn't 😅 Leilani: is Dracula gay? Leilani: good for him Saint: I think so? Saint: Unless I'm confusing my classics Leilani: I haven't read it before & I feel like if I do now everyone will think I'm going goth Saint: Not an impression you want to make? Leilani: not really Leilani: 🌤  > 🌧 Saint: we'll keep it secret or off the reading list Leilani: first rule of our new book club? okay Saint: You can think of the 2nd Leilani: there has to be some kind of limit on length, War & Peace is too heavy in every way Saint: which brings us nicely to rule number three then Saint: no Russian literature Leilani: 😅 Saint: but I'll leave it with the rules for now, this is a party after-all Saint: would you like a drink? Leilani: what can you offer me that's 🧃? Saint: [so the pub, 'cos always the pub, probably doesn't have sassy mocktails 'cos not the vibe but he can go make her one] Saint: any major allergies or dislikes I need to know? Leilani: no Leilani: you've got total freedom Saint: I like the sound of that Leilani: what are you drinking? Saint: [probably red wine, you seem the type, not getting crunk] Saint: 🍷 Saint: 🧛 of me Leilani: if you're coming out to me atm you have my unconditional love & support Saint: 😅 Saint: Thank you Saint: unnecessary but appreciated Leilani: oh then you want to do the most with the teeth cleaning for the pics you're sending later Leilani: I'm not 😤 Saint: As much as the before and after would be impressive Saint: you might feel a bit 🤢 Leilani: I've set myself up as way too squeamish here, I don't like the sound of that Leilani: I'm not like 🥀 Saint: it's your story to tell Saint: though I wouldn't accuse you of being a wilting wallflower type, for the record Leilani: please don't accuse me of anything on the record 😅 I'm not a Lolita type either Leilani: I haven't even had a boyfriend yet Saint: I think painting myself as that unreliable of a narrator would really undermine my public persona and the trust I aim to inspire Saint: is that purely because of having a protective mum or did your own thoughts and feelings come into that too? Saint: plus, technically, Nabokov was Russian, I don't know if we can read it? 🤔 Leilani: the behaviour of many boys my age came into it too Leilani: but maybe they'll be different at this school, your sister did say we're uncultured at my old one Saint: I can see that Saint: When did she say that? Leilani: 💬📱 Saint: 😕 Oh Saint: she can be quite Saint: blunt Leilani: it's okay, I know Saint: She doesn't always think before she speaks, which is definitely a bad habit Saint: but I'm sure she didn't mean that to sound so...that Leilani: I'm sure she put more than enough thought into everything she said Saint: I'm sorry Saint: I would talk to her, see why you got off on the wrong foot but I'm not so out of touch to not realize that would potentially do more harm than good Saint: I think she's insecure, for context, she didn't get into the school she wanted to go to Leilani: I know why, but I'm not sure I would've been able to approach it differently, even if I should've Saint: Is it strictly girl's business? Leilani: what does that even mean, St? 🤔 Saint: Well Saint: code for none of my business perhaps Saint: in this instance, at least Leilani: it's not becos you're a boy, it's becos you're her brother Saint: Okay Saint: if it helps, I know how she can be, and it's not because of you, it's a her thing Leilani: it doesn't help but that's more becos you tried to tell me how she could be & I rose to it anyway Saint: I could've been clearer Saint: I didn't want to seem like I was insinuating you couldn't talk to her, or something like that Saint: and I don't want to talk badly about anyone, even if it is at times warranted, she's not, you know Saint: 👿 Leilani: I found out for myself, that's the fairest way Leilani: & I'm sure I overreacted once I was 😤 Saint: I know it would make this easier, if you were to get on Saint: but just know you're under no obligation to Saint: with any of us Saint: if nothing else, I can assure she'll give you a wide berth if she has nothing pleasant to say Leilani: maybe we will in the 2nd attempt Leilani: my moods are all over Saint: Now that is girl stuff, correct? 😏 Saint: it's very possible Leilani: that's getting into weird 🧛 territory Leilani: I meant becos I'm 💣💥 by grief not being a girl Saint: Joke in poor taste at the expense of your hormones Saint: 🤐 Leilani: becos I'm a girl is never an excuse for anything, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie I have read some of Saint: My sincerest apologies Saint: you'll have to educate me Leilani: thank god for book club Leilani: you're fine though, losing my mum isn't an excuse either according to your sister Saint: She really said that? Leilani: yeah but she's just the 1st, I don't think she'll be the only Saint: But that's just Saint: bullshit Leilani: she doesn't think so, she built an entire argument around it Saint: even if you were using it as an excuse, which I see no evidence of Saint: it's a pretty valid one Saint: and it's just so Saint: callous to even suggest that, never mind assert it Leilani: it's about her, I dared to say she shouldn't make fun of Grace & by extension treat all of you badly Saint: That is a sensitive topic for her Saint: but still Saint: THAT is no excuse to behave like that Leilani: she's been looking at me like she's got every reason to be 😤 Leilani: 🙏 we're not face to face 🗨 Saint: I'll distract her Leilani: 😇 Saint: [do so boy, soz to you lol, sure she's being a delight] Leilani: [do the salute you're not gonna send him a picture of lol] Saint: [casually meet eyes over this party moment] Leilani: [what a #mood] Saint: [honestly Venus can leave early anyway we all know why you're here and you probably have somewhere else to be hoeing it up] Leilani: [yeah exactly, as much as I hate that you're like this, we know it's real] Leilani: thanks Saint: no problem Saint: I learnt not to bite a long time ago 🎣 Saint: not that that's on you, but you know what I mean, diplomacy is my friend Leilani: does she know she's helping you in your career goals? Saint: I have to assume not Saint: unless she thinks I need a running mate 😨😅 Leilani: in that costume, it'd be a stretch to 💭 that Saint: Don't even get me started on that Leilani: if you don't want to drop your workout secrets that's your choice Saint: Oh no, I was talking about hers, sorry Saint: she's really gone with the Elle Woods thing...which is just a bit strange Saint: dad's a lawyer so Saint: yeah Leilani: oh... Leilani: an extra dimension has been added Leilani: I thought she was going with Regina George Saint: easy mistake to make Saint: sure she'd say as much if I said anything Leilani: she'd say worse about both of ours probably Saint: she got her 🎁 she should be in a good mood now Leilani: why is she getting 🎁 on your dad's birthday? Saint: Right, you're an only child Saint: when you're little, and you went to birthday parties, did you ever get mad that you weren't getting any gifts or attention? Saint: it's that Leilani: I can't relate Saint: What did you and your mum do for your birthdays as a kid? Leilani: she liked to throw me a party, on theme for whatever I was super into that year Leilani: smaller scale than this but all my friends would be there Saint: Sounds like a good time Leilani: it was Leilani: what did you do? Saint: My birthday is Christmas day Saint: 💔 Leilani: I'm sorry Saint: 😅 It's not really that bad Saint: it would be if you minded Saint: but I still get presents and to see all the family so Leilani: I still feel like I should buy you a 🎁 in the summer Saint: that's when I'd have parties with friends as a kid Leilani: you don't have those parties any more? Saint: Not really my scene now Saint: I'm alright with Vee claiming that kind of attention Saint: I usually get dinner with friends as close to my birthday as we can without all the office parties being out in full force Leilani: 🍷 Leilani: very you Saint: Is that my branding? Leilani: would you like a rebrand? Saint: I'm not 😤 Saint: just curious about your 💭 Leilani: it's very blood of christ 😇🙏 Leilani: so fitting Saint: That wine is very bad though Saint: 😝 Leilani: maybe they don't want to promote 🧛 Leilani: if you drank my blood it probably wouldn't taste nice Saint: Why not? Saint: Not admitting a desire to do so with that Leilani: I don't know becos it's 🩸? Saint: 😂 Saint: Fair point Saint: just wanted to see how you'd put me off yours specifically Leilani: we'd circle back to me being underage Saint: do you think vampires ask for identification first? Leilani: no, but in this case you know how old I am Saint: I'm not going to suck your blood Saint: you have my word Saint: and I invited your here, sort of Saint: you'd have to invite me in Leilani: ignoring that being what someone who was about to drain me would say, you must've been to Grace's house before Saint: Probably? Saint: not as if I'd have much call to be there though Leilani: I'm honoured that you're looking for an invite now Saint: I never said that Leilani: 🤔 Saint: I said you would have to invite me over if I were to go all 🧛 Saint: so you're perfectly safe here and now Leilani: [giving him a look like okay boy] Saint: [little lol like okay fair enough] Leilani: [a smile back, excuse us everyone] Saint: [i'm like who a nosy hoe here 'cos I'd be 👀] Leilani: [well Astrid would just say it and we know she's there LOL] Saint: [truuu but she is an innocent soul so she probably just thinks he's being more friendly than his face usually suggests lol] Leilani: [I like to think the twins know what's up, they're sassy] Saint: [be those cheeky children who embarrass you] Leilani: [definitely & Matilda is probably 👀 on this vibe] Saint: [is cute] Leilani: [love that you're being less serious rn sir] Saint: [it's out of character enough to be a Thing™ like he's not a dick but he doesn't have to go this hard for anyone in the fam like protection, caring mode obvs so it'd be like oh hey] Leilani: [enjoy that fam, I know some of you adults are nosy hoes] Saint: [lol the goss, god bless] Leilani: what did you put in this drink? Saint: What? Saint: Nothing? Leilani: no, I mean like ingredients Leilani: it's nice Saint: Oh Saint: [whatever sassy concoction we've made 'cos you'd have that knowledge even if you don't party that hard 'cos Ruster kid] Leilani: 😄 Saint: you like it? Leilani: it's delicious Saint: 😁👍 Saint: Do I get a sticker now? Leilani: yeah Leilani: & more 🍭🍬🍫 Saint: the kids are gonna hate me Saint: better share or get mobbed Leilani: I could just invite you over to eat what the trick or treaters didn't before we got here, you know Leilani: keep you 😇 Saint: You really want to secure my spot in heaven Saint: My acceptance would hugely depend on what 🍭🍬🍫 was on offer Leilani: [the list of everything Grace bought and we know she's extra so] Leilani: so you see, I'm thinking of my own 😁 Saint: Did she expect the whole of town to show up or? Saint: I better intervene before you look like a 👶/👵 depending on how you think about it Leilani: 😅😅 Leilani: I think she's expecting me to eat my feelings Saint: Nice to have the option Saint: perhaps not at the detriment to your 🦷 or 🩸 sugar though Leilani: we'll pretend midnight snacks don't count Saint: No calories after midnight, everyone knows that Leilani: the later it gets, the less there are? Leilani: becos we'll definitely still be here later than that Saint: Might even get to breakfast Saint: what would you have then if calories didn't exist? Leilani: for breakfast? Saint: Yes Leilani: 🥞🍨🍓🍫🍒 Saint: Well that just sounds 😇😇🤤 Saint: Perhaps we can go make that happen when we finally leave Saint: or will Grace object, take on that protective role fully Leilani: taking advantage of her fear of overstepping isn't very 😇 but it is honest Leilani: & this isn't a date date Saint: Not my intention, though if you think that would be a direct impact then perhaps we shouldn't Leilani: it's okay, it's just breakfast Leilani: the calories don't even count so it can't hurt Saint: It is Saint: I wouldn't want anyone to think differently Leilani: start as you mean to go on, I recall it Saint: I mean Saint: that wouldn't be right, would it Leilani: if people think something else is happening to what is, it's easy enough to set them straight Saint: Why would they even think that Leilani: retro 💭 Leilani: you can't spend time with anyone of the opposite sex unless they're interested in the same or you're interested in them Saint: It's just ridiculous Leilani: yeah, but you are 😇 & the fittest so I can't blame people for thinking I would be Saint: I assume people would think that's the last thing on your mind Saint: but maybe I'm giving too much credit Saint: most conversations seem to end up back to when am I going to get another girlfriend Leilani: that joke you made about my girly hormones works for my age too Leilani: especially becos I haven't had a boyfriend Saint: 🙄 Saint: It isn't the be-all-end-all Saint: trust me Leilani: not a classics 📚 way of thinking Leilani: if this was Russian Lit you'd die for her Saint: that's why their particular brand of melodrama is banned Saint: and 'she' doesn't currently exist, as I said, unless you'd like me to pledge my undying, unwavering love to the idea of women in general Saint: I can knock up a speech now Leilani: sounds like fun Leilani: go ahead Saint: 😅 Leilani: not the answer you wanted? Leilani: if you offer me a speech, I'm gonna say yes Saint: I need some time to write it Saint: I also need to find a pen Leilani: [hands him a pen in a sassy manner because she would have a handbag with this outfit] Saint: [the ultimate cliche of lingering when you take something lol] Leilani: [when you can't keep the sass up cos you gotta smile at him again like...I love to think about everyone watching this] Saint: [obviously we're smiling back and being all bashful like gotta go find some paper] Leilani: [looking in that handbag for something he could write on but there's nothing because she's not that hoe carrying everything but the kitchen sink so a cute 🤷🏾 like soz] Saint: [go find a napkin to write this speech about love and womens on then find her and give it to her and hope no one else reads it 'cos that is pure flirtation if I ever saw it] Leilani: [we're keeping that napkin hens & soz Matty even though we BFFs you're not reading it luv] Leilani: okay, I'd vote for you 🗳 Saint: [not explaining that inside joke hun we have no time sorry] Saint: That's all I really wanted from you, naturally Saint: 😈 Leilani: I'm naturally powerless to do anything but swoon, we've gone full classics now Leilani: you got what you really wanted there Saint: Having you powerless to my every whim and will sounds like another genre than classic to me Saint: unless you'd like to state your case for 50 Shades Leilani: 😅 I need to read it 1st Leilani: so thanks if you're choosing it for book club Saint: Top of my reading list, I just needed the excuse 😏 Leilani: isn't there like a whole series? Leilani: you'd know Saint: I officially decline to add that to my brand, thank you Leilani: I get why, you're angry she wrote out the vampires, obviously Saint: Precisely Saint: What kind of discrimination... Leilani: [a lil irl lol like peeps aren't getting enough of a show with this] Saint: [😍] Leilani: [I hope you're re-reading that napkin or talking to your bff right then cos if you see them 😍 you'll die] Saint: Who's costume do you think would win? Leilani: your dad's Leilani: the birthday boy has to win Saint: just because it's his birthday or Leilani: yeah, Grace's is the best Leilani: I chose it for her Saint: 😅 If you do say so yourself then Leilani: if you're arguing it's becos you want me to hype up yours more Leilani: she looks amazing Saint: I'm simply saying on your 2nd go you and Vee should get on like a house on fire Leilani: 😧 Saint: It's not a bad thing Leilani: 🤔 Leilani: okay, who do you think should win? Saint: You have things in common, is the point Saint: I don't know, the kids are probably the most imaginative Leilani: what things? Saint: 💅💄👗 and thinking you're very good at them Leilani: I think I did a good job at picking her specific outfit tonight Leilani: you don't have to say it like it's a bad thing Saint: I didn't Saint: I specifically said it wasn't Leilani: sure Saint: I'm sorry if that's how you took it Leilani: I'm sorry if that's what I look like to you Saint: What, interested in how they present themselves? Saint: I don't see why you'd apologize for that Leilani: up themselves Saint: I didn't say that Leilani: I don't know how else you expect me to take thinking I'm very good at something Leilani: you didn't even say I was very good at it Saint: Does it matter what I think? Leilani: not if it's that I have an ego the size of your sister's Saint: I meant it as a good thing Saint: I don't know what else to tell you Leilani: I don't know what else to tell you other than that's not how I took it Saint: And I said sorry so that's that Leilani: yeah Saint: Don't think about it, it really didn't mean anything Leilani: I won't cause a big scene about it either way Saint: Just enjoy your evening, okay Leilani: I am Saint: Good 🙂 Saint: that's all anyone wants Leilani: I didn't mean to get all 💣💥 it just upset me, what she said Leilani: so you saying we're alike isn't something I want to hear atm Saint: I understand Saint: that's fine, it was the wrong thing to say Leilani: it isn't fine, she's the one who got to me, not you Leilani: I'm sorry Saint: I was insensitive Saint: I just don't like conflict Saint: but it can't always be straightened out so easily Leilani: I will have a 2nd go when I see her at school Leilani: maybe it'll get straightened out Saint: How are you feeling, about school? Leilani: stressed Saint: I bet Saint: it'd be weird if you weren't Saint: but you seem to be good at making friends so you'll be okay Leilani: but that was before, now I'm not gonna know if they feel sorry for me Leilani: or think they have to be nice to me Saint: Do people have to know? Saint: You need a story why you've moved school, but it doesn't strictly have to be the full truth, or the truth at all Leilani: Venus knows, I'm not having her catch me in a lie Leilani: anyway, it's what happened Leilani: I can't escape it by lying Saint: Fair enough Saint: it is the best policy, after-all Leilani: it wouldn't be fair to my mum to change the story, she can't Saint: That makes sense Saint: disrespectful Saint: well, I think, however unfortunately, that people's sympathy only extends so far Saint: you might lose some, but you will find out who your real friends are with time Leilani: there's that word again Leilani: time Saint: I think it's pretty unavoidable Saint: it sounds worse than usual Saint: but people you think are your friends can turn around and not me Saint: for any reasons, it isn't that this is happening, or going to happen just because of your mum Saint: you know? Saint: It doesn't sound comforting, it isn't Leilani: it is a little bit Saint: People are flaky Saint: you just notice when you could use some of them to not be Leilani: who hurt you? other than the girls you're unwilling to die for, I mean Saint: What? Saint: No, no one Leilani: your friends haven't? Saint: I'm fine 🙂 Leilani: I don't believe in 🙂 Leilani: give me a real one 😁 Saint: [IRL 🙂] Leilani: [IRL 😁] Saint: [looking awayayayay] Leilani: [getting him another 🍷 because you are soz you kicked off] Saint: [just like 'who served you?' 😏 bants 'cos he's not even old enough yet either] Leilani: [we just loling because this is a fam function and everyone knows it's for him but asking if she can try it, to which I say don't do it gal wine is gross] Saint: [offering it but warning her it's an acquired taste 'cos truly] Leilani: [taking a sip and her face would be ICONIC because ew, just don't spit it back into his glass babe] Saint: [loling and asking if she wants another mocktail instead] Leilani: [a hard yes because need that taste out of our mouth] Saint: [go get that boy] Leilani: you should've written a speech about why you like drinking 🍷 Saint: A toast would be more fitting Leilani: shorter & easier too Saint: and more warmly received Saint: especially by this crowd Leilani: 😅 Leilani: [gives him the pen back like there you go then] Saint: [swap that for her drink and get to 🤔] Leilani: [take a sip so he can see your happy face when you taste it compared to a second ago] Saint: How am I meant to argue with that? Leilani: I'm not doing your work for you, St Saint: 🥺😏 Leilani: maybe you could compare it to a girl, that was a very good speech Leilani: [re-reads it] Saint: Acidic...bitter...goes straight to your head and stays there 'til the next day Leilani: disgusting, leaves a horrible taste in your mouth Leilani: makes you say things you maybe don't mean Saint: might get half the room to raise their glasses Saint: if they're feeling brave Leilani: if they're feeling 💔 Saint: Yes, that too Leilani: there must be some reasons why you drink it, other than frustrated vampirism Saint: the 💔 obviously Leilani: you said you were 🙂 fine Saint: Philosophical 💔💭 Leilani: what does that mean? Saint: I'm just theorizing on it Saint: no personal experience worth noting Leilani: ... Saint: We don't need to bring the party down with my non-issues Leilani: no announcements, just me Saint: Alright Saint: but only because you don't want to be treated different, not because I think it's important or a big deal or anything at all Saint: I did have a girlfriend, 'til quite recently Saint: but no one here knows that she cheated on me, and that's why I ended things Saint: with one of my friends Leilani: how 🍷 of her Leilani: are they together now? Saint: I'm not sure Saint: Guess I'll see at School Leilani: how long were you with her? Saint: About 2 months shy of a year Leilani: that's horrible, that she didn't end it properly Saint: Yeah Saint: we were really alike Saint: I thought Leilani: we're both dreading school, I wish that was more comforting Saint: I don't want to complain, like it's anywhere near the same Leilani: it doesn't have to be the same to be something we can talk about Saint: I know Saint: it's just Saint: I already feel stupid without complaining to you Leilani: she did something stupid, you don't have to feel like that Saint: I do though, we're a close group Saint: they're both in all my classes pretty much Saint: then I think that the rest of them had to know Saint: so, what does that mean for all of those relationships too Leilani: you won't know what it means until you know whether they were keeping it from you or not Leilani: but you get to decide what happens next with those friendships either way Saint: People pick sides, and even if they already haven't Saint: it won't be the same Leilani: maybe it shouldn't Leilani: if they've picked his side or hers, you deserve different than that Saint: It's my last year Saint: bit late for all that anyway Leilani: if you go into it with that attitude, yeah Leilani: you wouldn't say it's too late for me Saint: You have time, and reason to make it work Leilani: you too Leilani: we haven't known each other long, claiming you need years is a stretch Saint: This is different Saint: I don't know how to explain it Leilani: join a club with me or something, we'll make new friends together Saint: 😅 What kind of club? Leilani: I don't know Leilani: obviously not the Russian Lit appreciation society Saint: Maybe they'll have an anti-appreciation society Leilani: 😅 it'd be popular & so would we Saint: You will be Leilani: there must be genuine clubs you are interested in 🤔💭 & I'll sign up too Saint: I have lots of extra-curriculars Saint: but there's probably a few left out there I haven't tried Leilani: great Saint: What do you want to do? Saint: Sports, music, etc... Leilani: my only demand is no swimming Saint: The chlorine? Leilani: the cap I'd have to wear Leilani: not cute Saint: 😂 Saint: [and IRL] Leilani: hey! I'm serious Saint: Okay, no swimming Saint: we have a pool anyway Leilani: oh, good idea, throwing a party would be a good way to meet people Leilani: 💅💄👙 instead Saint: Hold on, who said anything about a party Leilani: me Leilani: just then Saint: It's a bit Leilani: ... Saint: You do know my sister lives at my house too, right? Leilani: she told me she's back & forth to Paris, can't we do it when she's 🛫? Saint: Not as much as she wishes Saint: I mean, I suppose you could Saint: long as you don't post it all over socials and trash the place Leilani: we could Leilani: the point is, you're there too Saint: A pool party full of underage girls? Saint: I don't know if that's the right direction to be going in Leilani: the 2nd point is, they won't all be underage or girls Saint: Well as mentioned, I don't exactly have a lot of older boys to invite Leilani: that's why we join a club 1st Saint: How many steps does this plan have then? Leilani: I don't know Leilani: it depends how those go Saint: You're funny Saint: And I don't mean that in any way but the words I'm saying, for the record Leilani: I'll be proud becos your laughter is transformative Leilani: it makes you look & me feel really different Saint: Those are some pretty persuasive words Saint: maybe you should write the speeches Leilani: I'll add speech writer to my vision board when I get back Saint: You could do it for me Saint: if that wasn't such a 🥱 prospect Leilani: I think it could be fun Leilani: but what's my cut? Saint: Paying staff is part of a MPs fabled expenses Saint: we can make that wage up as we go along Saint: as long as people don't think I'm favouring you for any reason beyond your 🖋🗯 Leilani: [bats her eyelashes at him in an OTT manner like who would ever think that] Leilani: 😅😅 Saint: [😏] Saint: you'd get to live in London, if you wanted Leilani: who wouldn't want to live in London? Saint: It certainly has its charms Leilani: 🛍🌃💃 Saint: Those are some Leilani: add yours then Saint: 🏛 🛥 ⛪️🚇 🕌 🚖 🕍 🎭 ☕️ 🍷 🍽 Leilani: I was with you until 🍷 Leilani: still, you can show me around before I start work Saint: It's a deal Saint: maybe you'll like white, or rose Leilani: let's see Leilani: [goes off to get wine like] Saint: It takes time Saint: to acquire the taste Leilani: to kill your tastebuds Leilani: [imagine the scene of her with a glass of wine in each hand taking a sip from each and making different but as ICONIC faces of disgust, we're giving them to Matty, fill your boots gal] Saint: How many 👎s? Leilani: as many as poss Saint: 😅😅 Saint: Stick to juice Saint: apart from being bad for your 😁 and the possibility of a sugar high Saint: better option all 'round providing you brush Leilani: is this where you ask for photographic proof back? Saint: 🤔 Saint: I think I trust your dedication to pearly whites Leilani: thanks Saint: You seem...disappointed? Leilani: do I? Leilani: trust is nice, I'm not 😤 Saint: Good Saint: you can send me evidence if you want Saint: maybe your breakfast 'gram, if it lives up to the expectations Leilani: aren't you gonna be there? Saint: Didn't we decide that might not be a good idea right now Leilani: I've only had 3 sips of wine & I don't remember agreeing so Leilani: no? Saint: I don't want my eyes scratched out 💅 Saint: you did a good job on the 😱 factor on her Leilani: I don't have my 🐱 yet Leilani: you can be scared then Saint: You are a 🐱 Saint: so had I better come or else Leilani: if we share the 🥞 you'll be helping curb my chances of a sugar rush & cavities Saint: So that's the for argument Leilani: yeah & I'll keep being funny Saint: You're meant to do against now 😏 Leilani: 🤔 Leilani: the risk of your own sugar rush & cavities Saint: 😂 Saint: I would hate for you to think I'm scared of a little sugar Leilani: 🧄 & 🌤 right? Leilani: or maybe underage girls & unreliable narrators Saint: I'm the unreliable narrator underage girls are scared of Saint: except I'm not, obviously Saint: I'll take vampire rumours over that any day Leilani: at least that means you won't take some other girl for breakfast on the morning of my 16th birthday Saint: That would be very cinematic Saint: but also very rude Leilani: 💔😿 Saint: You'll have to tell me when it is so I can keep it free, avoid the 👿 Leilani: [her birthday whenever we decide that is] Saint: It's in the diary Leilani: 📱 or 📖? Saint: I have both Saint: but I'm not quite that nerdy that I've brought my paper one to a party Leilani: I was just 💔😿 that you borrowed a pen from someone else Saint: Okay, so that's pretty 🤓 Leilani: excuse you, it's not my fault I don't have 20:20 vision Leilani: 🕶🖤 Saint: You aren't that blind or I'd have noticed by now Leilani: I'm wearing contacts Saint: I mean 🕶 is a bit of an exaggeration Leilani: it's a cute emoji, I'm sorry Leilani: & 🤓 is not good teeth representation for me Saint: [actual lol] Saint: Okay, you can have it Leilani: [actual 😍] Leilani: thanks boss Saint: [try not to 😳] Leilani: [use your skin tone to save yourself boy] Saint: wait 'til the tour to decide if you accept Leilani: becos what happens on tour stays on tour or? Saint: depends how much evidence you collect 📸 Leilani: you're the 😇 Saint: Allegedly Leilani: it's your own promo Leilani: meaning you could also convince me you're 😈 Saint: I don't see the benefit in that Leilani: [a LOOK like] Saint: I'm not going to convince you of anything 😈 with just words Leilani: I definitely don't remember making it a words only rule Saint: 🤐🤔 Leilani: ... Saint: [miming both again but we're smiling] Leilani: would you like to dance? in classic 📚 it's totally scandalous Saint: As long as we leave appropriate room for God Leilani: I think if I was fully playing by my god's rules you'd have to be in the next room Leilani: & I'd be wearing 🧕🏾 instead of ears Saint: That would make your outfit very confusing Leilani: this outfit is too tight to be islam approved Saint: [show up to dance like lemme take a closer look] Leilani: [we're having a moment & all I can think about is Grace peeping] Saint: [peeping in a costume which just makes it more amusing some reason] Leilani: [it's happening but I am gonna cockblock this before it goes too hard by saying she starts crying because she can't wait to tell her mum about this & realises she can't #beentheregal] Saint: [oh baby] Leilani: [so then we embarrassed & have to go outside cos there's always peeps in the toilets at any party/fam function] Saint: [at least as Grace is peeping she can follow you and deal 'cos we're gonna assume that isn't what you want him to do] Leilani: [when you wanna go home because mortified especially since he hasn't followed so you think he's mortified but you also don't because you were and are having fun which is the whole reason we cried like #ohjoy thank god Venus is not here] Saint: [we're in actuality worried like oh we shouldn't have done that/any of this lowkey] Leilani: [lowkey outside for ages until Grace is probably freezing to death so we're back but NOT looking at him because dying] Saint: [the awks, go make yourself busy boy] Leilani: [when you're avoiding him but you don't want him to avoid you] Saint: [a mood, at least it is your dad's bday so you can make it look not blatant] Leilani: [maybe this is a good place to end the convo, like it's rude to them but legit] Saint: [agreed, like, can't really come back from this tonight, you will be going home soon gal and breakfast is not happening today] Leilani: [it'll be a hilarious awks but good starting point for the next convo we do like yeah soz I sobbed on you sir]

[rakghoul]

A mosque was attacked in Christchurch about 3 hours ago. The shooter live-streamed himself opening fire on the Masjid Al Noor mosque. He is now in police custody. As of right now 9 have been confirmed dead but it is very likely, from eye witness reports and from the footage the shooter streamed, the the number will be much higher.

The shooter is an Australian man, he has access to several semi automatic weapons, and has extreme anti-islamic views that he expressed online and in a manifesto he posted prior to the event. In his live stream, he says “remember to subscribe to Pewdiepie” before he begins his attack.

I have already seen many New Zealanders shift the blame, saying “this would never happen here, he’s Australian, we would never do this.” I understand the horror, and the disbelief, as I too never thought something like this would happen in New Zealand, especially my city, at a place so close to me. I didn’t realise people could get access to such heavy weaponry here, and shootings in New Zealand are a rarity, especially mass shootings. This will easily be the most deadly attack in New Zealand history.

However, my disbelief only extended to the scope, and weaponry used here. The extremist, xenophobic, anti-islamic sentiment behind this terrorist act is very real, and active, in New Zealand. Kiwis will tell you otherwise, will refuse to believe it, but it’s there, and we need to take a good hard look at ourselves and our culture. Someone close to me had a class in university with a man who posted openly racist, anti-semitic, islamophobic comments and imagery on his public facebook and discord servers, and shared posts about how to make guns yourself, as well as making violent threats about female staff at the university. When my friend brought this to the attention of the faculty, they shrugged it off, said they’d ask him to take down the link to his discord which he had posted in a class forum, and left it at that.

That is unacceptable.

We don’t think a shooting or bombing or any other act of terrorism would ever happen here, so we don’t do anything to prevent it. This needs to change now, we as a nation need to take a hard stance against fascism, xenophobia, and all other displays of hatred, and make sure that what happens today NEVER happens again. We can’t fall back on the excuse of “this would never happen”, because it has happened, and we let it happen.

My love and thoughts with the families of the victims, my heart goes out to all of them, and my sincerest apologies that they had to experience this.

(Edited to remove the shooters name)

[natashaashleymarvelromanoff]

I'm So Glad You’re Back - Chapter 5

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2.  Chapter 3.  Chapter 4.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7.  Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.  Chapter 11.  Chapter 12.  Chapter 13.  Chapter 14.  Chapter 15.  Epilogue

See you in a minute

After Tony had refused to help them with their plan, Scott and Natasha made their way to find Bruce. Or professor hulk as he was called now. It was still a little strange to see Bruce as the hulk but she'd gotten used to it by now. However, Scott was mesmerised. She even had to elbow him a few times since he lost concentration because he was staring at Bruce so much. She supposes to be fair on his part he hadn't actually met Bruce before so seeing him like this would have been a lot to process.

They had met in the diner for lunch and told Bruce about their plans, Bruce had been more than happy to help them. He understood how his friends must have been feeling and he too would do anything to get their lost friends back.

….

Now back at the compound the next day, Bruce, Scott and Natasha had set up some equipment that attached to Scott's ugly brown van and Bruce had set up his station to control where Scott's presence in the quantum realm so that he didn't get lost.

But once they started up the machine and sent Scott into the quantum realm. It went a little wrong. Okay, maybe a lot wrong. Somehow they managed to turn Scott into a teenager, old man and baby before they had to cut the power and bring the normal Scott back.

As Bruce and Scott argued about how to fix the technical equipment to make it work, Natasha left the room. Opening the doors to the outside hangar, the Russian walked over to one of the pillars, leaned against it and let out a deep sigh. She felt defeated.

How were they supposed to get everyone back if they couldn't even help Scott travel safely through the quantum realm?

Maybe all this was a lost cause. She thought.

Deep in her unhopeful thoughts, Natasha didn't notice the car pulling down the driveway until it was a few yards away. Whipping her head up at the sound of the engine, the redhead instantly recognised the sleek Audi as Tony's.

Pulling up alongside her, Tony parked the car, got out and walked over to her.

“So let me guess. You turned Scott into a baby?” the genius sniggered at her with a smirk on his face.

Jutting her chin to the side in annoyance since she knew Tony was right, the first female avenger nodded and rolled her eyes at him.

Tony’s smirk getting even bigger he also laughed a little louder which in turn, made Natasha give in to laughing too.

“Yeah, and an old man. I don't think its gonna work tony.” Still smiling at the events from a few minutes ago, Natasha voiced her worries to tony, her smile faulting slightly.

“Well that's a shame, I guess I'll just head home them and not share my super awesome time travel plans with you, you know since I figured it out.”

As tony turned to walk back to his car, Natasha's eyes widened. Only realising what her friend had said.

"What did you just say?” Almost running the short distance between her and Tony, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes, but she was also in disbelief.

"I figured it out nat. I know how to time travel, and it's completely safe.” his brown eyes beamed at her when he told Natasha. He still couldn't believe it himself, to be honest.

If it wasn't for that picture of Peter he had saved in his kitchen, he doesn't think he ever would have tried to figure it out.

When he saw that picture it stirred some feelings inside of him. He loved that kid. Tony knew he never said it but he did. Yeah, he was annoying at times and was a pain in the ass but he loved the kid. It hurt to even think about him. Of course after he got back from space he had asked about his aunt may and friends, but unfortunately, they hadn't made it. Tony still felt guilty to this day. And he was sure if it was any other time he saw that picture of the two of them he would have just thought about Peter and put it back down. But Scott and Natasha's words had stuck with him all day. That photo. That photo was his reason to at least try and he did.

"Oh my god. You did it? wait. I thought you said you didn't want any part in this?” Natasha hopeful face transformed into a confused one.

“I know, but then I realised you were right. As much as I hate to admit that to your stupid face. We have a chance again. After 5 years and we should take it. But Tasha, if we're gonna do this, we need to make sure that we don't change anything. I don't want to risk losing the life I have now. And I'm sure you don't want to either.” Tony really hated admitting she was right, and naturally, she was loving it, listening to his words with a smirk of her face.

"Of course, I don't. I don't want to lose anything either. All I want is to bring everyone back.” Natasha's face softened as she watched tony.

"Okay then. Let's get started.”

As tony shuffled backwards to go to the boot of his car, Natasha stopped in her place, only just realising that something was missing. Or rather someone.

“Wait. Wheres James?”

“Oh yeah I forgot to tell you, I figured since we were gonna build a time machine it would be best to not have a 5-year-old running around near it just in case we lost him in the 1700s by accident.” Tony joked at her. Laughing at him, Natasha just agreed with him. He was right. She didn't want James near any of it just in case something went wrong.

Then after she had laughed at him, Tony pulled something out of his boot. Natashas breath caught in her throat as she instantly recognised the rounded surface.

Steve shield.

“I figured if we're gonna do this, you should have this. I don't know why I didn't give it back to you before but I guess better late than never.

You don't have to use it of course, but I just thought to have this on you, it would almost feel like he's there with you.”

Taking the large shield of him, Natasha felt her eyes brimming. She tried to sniff her nose to keep them from falling and she flashes the genius a smile. She remembered the last she saw it, back in Germany. Nearly 7 years ago now. Even though she wanted to take it with her on their mission, she knew she couldn't. It was steves shield, if something happened to her she didn't want to take it.

“Thank you, Tony.” She told him, in the sincerest voice she could. She really was thankful.

Tony and Natasha let themselves back inside where Tony explained he had figured out how to time travel. After a few hours. The 4 had the beginning of a plan. First, get everyone back on earth, then build the machine inside the hangar. They didn't have a solid plan on what to do exactly once they had built the time machine but a vague plan was formed to get the stones first before Thanos could get them.

As the boys got on with building the time machine, Natasha made video calls to all of their fellow Avengers and Guardians. She didn't explain in detail but Natasha had told them that they had a new plan on how to get everyone back and she would explain when they got here. Unfortunately, she couldn't reach carol but once Carol saw her video calls she was sure her son’s aunt would come as soon as possible.

Rocket and Nebula where the first ones to come back home as well as Rhodey.

Herself, Scott, Tony and Bruce explained to them all their plan. Most of them are sceptical at first but once Tony had explained that the details and that he was confident it would work, they accepted it. It also helped that rocket was on board with the plan and was also confident that it would work.

That left only Clint and Thor. Once Rhodey had returned to the compound he had informed Natasha that he thinks he knows where Clint is. This is the closest they have gotten to finding him. It was either now or never.

Natasha took the opportunity immediately. If anyone was going to get him it was going to be her. She hadn't seen him in 5 years. She had missed him so much. He was her oldest friend in this world and Natasha was determined to bring him back, and hopefully telling him about their new plan would convince him.

Since it had been nighttime where Thor was when they had been building the machine, she couldn't call him until it was the day for him, but since she was on her way to Tokyo she had Bruce make the call instead. Bruce had informed her that Thor would be at the compound by the end of the day. Natasha was relieved to hear it. She knew Thor had been depressed since the snap and she tried her best to make him feel better. She'd been there before so if there was anything she could do to help one of her closest friends she would.

…..

Arriving in Tokyo Natasha turned on the Quinjet's stealth mode, to make sure Clint wouldn't hear or see her and run.

As she walked through the alleyway littered with bodies Natasha approached the former archer. Now known as Ronin to his victims and enemies.

His back was turned to her as she stepped closer, then when she stopped, her oldest friend removed his hood. She couldn't help but think he looked different. His hair. His face. His eyes. They were the eyes of a distraught man. A man who had lost his entire family. But no matter what he had done, no matter what happened Clint would always be her friend and she would never judge him on his actions. He never judged her, instead, he saved her all those years ago. And she was just about to return that favour.

Natasha knew she maybe treading on eggshells when she moved closer to him but she needed him to know she still loved him. After all this time, She was finally speaking to him again.

“Clint. Killing all these people isn't going to bring your family back. We found something. A chance maybe…” her voice was soft, the same voice she used to speak to James when he was sad.

"Don't” Clint's voice was harsh as he spoke. The first words she had hear him say in 5 years.

"Don't what?”

“Give me hope” his voice broke. Throughout the years he had held onto hope that one day his wife and children would come back, but as time and time went on, he lost that hope. Clint didn't know if he could handle having that hope ripped away from him again.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you sooner” she took another step closer. Just an arm's length away. The colourful neon signs were their only source of light as the former spy looked at her friend. Slowly raising her arm, she took Clint's hand in her own. Trying her best to comfort him right now.

It took a few minutes for Clint to agree to leave with her, but once he did they both made their way to the quinjet and set course to the compound in New York.

The ride home wasn't too long since they had taken the quinjet, but Clint had been near enough quiet the entire time. She had spoken to him and he had just listened. Natasha told him about their friends, who had survived and who didn't. The guardians and Carol who were their space team. But she neglected to mention James and morgan. Natasha didn't think telling him about her son and Tony's daughter would be the best idea, especially since he had lost his own kids and was still mourning for them.

Once the two former assassins arrived back at the compound they were greeted by their team and thor who had arrived just a few hours before them.

Thor had looked quite sad when Clint laid eyes on him, he still kinda looked the same since the last time he saw him, but his long hair was slightly scruffier like he hadn't brushed it in a while and he looked smaller if that was even possible. It was almost like he’d lost some of the bulk of his muscle. But once the god's eyes landed on nat, they lit up, with a smile on his face to accompany them. He almost considered it strange at first until he realised that they probably kept in contact for the past few years. Natasha had told him about what happened to Thor before Thanos came. It didn't surprise him after that, that the god and Natasha would be close.

After greeting Thor with a smile and a big bear hug, Natasha made it a point to notice how far their time travel machine was coming on and impressively they had almost finished thanks to Rockets help. Natasha figured him and Tony would get this done quick, not that Bruce wasn't a big help but he was a bit too big to get into the smaller details although he did do most of the heavy lifting and Scott helped with the engineering, when he volunteered to do it everyone had given him a quizzical look, until he reminded everyone about his degrees.

This was it, they were almost there. Not long now.

It had been so long since Clint had been at this stupid compound. Now that he thinks about it, it has been almost 7 years. He remembered setting of the alarms off base so he could get wanda out. Wanda. It hurt to know she had gone too. He felt responsible for her after her brother sacrificed himself for him, she was so young too. He almost thought of her as a daughter.

As he followed Natasha through the compound to the common room, Clint got lost in his thoughts, thinking about all of his friends. It wasn't until his foot kicked something on the floor that he was broken out of his trance.

Looking down, Clint noticed that the thing he had kicked was a toy? Furrowing his eyebrows he stared at the child's toy in confusion.

Natasha had walked further on than him into the kitchen, not noticing his frozen posture.

As clint stared at the toy at his feet, the father of 3 started to notice more toys. They almost littered the floor if It wasn't for a box in the corner that had been placed there to keep them tidied away.

There were crayons scattered across the table, drawings covering the walls. Toy cars on the floor placed to look like they were racing each other. As clint looked around the room his eyes started to well. Seeing all these toys, it reminded him of home. His kids. Cooper, Lila and Nate.

Natasha hadn't noticed clint had stopped to stare at the toys in the room until she turned around to hand him a cup of coffee. Stopping instantly in her tracks she grimaced at the look on her friends face. She didn't even think about James's toys when they had come back.

“Nat. who’s toys are these?”

Moving her feet so she could walk closer to clint, Natasha stopped in front of him. Placing the two cups onto the table, Natasha took a breath and looked him in the eye with a small smile on her face.

“They're my son’s.”

“What?” she had a son? That didn't make any sense. He thought she couldn't- Clint's eyebrows knitted themselves together even further, obviously curious about her answer.

“About a month after the snap, I found out I was 2 months pregnant.”

“2 months? But that means you got pregnant when you were- oh.” Clint's sudden realisation made him lose his voice. If she was pregnant when the snap happened, it meant she conceived the baby before. And before the snap, her sam and Steve were on the run together.

He knew that nat and Sam had just been friends and that's all. But Steve, nat and Steve were possibly even closer than him and her. They had been partners during shield. They had run the Avengers as co loaders after Ultron. And she had betrayed tony for him during the battle in Germany. He had no doubt, that Natasha's child was Steves. No doubt at all.

“Yeah” Natasha nodded at his silent conclusion. She leaned over to a cabinet at the side of the room and pulled a picture frame from it. The redhead passed it over to her friend for him to see.

It was a picture of her and James. She was pretty sure it had been pepper that took it one Christmas, James had a smile as big as a Cheshire cat on his face as she held him in her arms, both wearing garish red and green sweaters that lit up. A gift from tony of course.

“His name is James. James Samuel Clinton Rogers.” clients breath caught in his throat as he heard his name. She gave her son his name?

“Congratulations nat. Really. I know you would never admit it but I know you always wanted this. Even when you believed you could never have it. I'm really happy for you, and Steve. I know he isn't here but I know he’d to be so happy for you too.” as he finishes his sentence, Clint actually smiles at her. This was the first time she had seen him smile since she got him back. And she's guessing its probably the first time he's smiled in a long time. Leaning in she wraps her arms around her oldest friend embracing him into a hug. Clint was hesitant at first to receive the gentle contact. He hadn't been hugged in years. But once he felt the familiar feeling of safety with his friend, he instantly returned the gesture with the picture frame still in his hand..

“We're gonna do this Clint. We are. We're gonna get them back.” After pulling back from their hug Natasha reassured him of their goal. He nodded at her words to make her feel better but honestly, he was still trying to not give too much hope to the idea. Truthfully he was terrified that if he focused all his efforts and hope into bringing his family back and he failed, that he would completely lose himself and the man he was would never return. No matter who came to save him.

…..

It didn't take the Avengers long to work out a solid plan. With the help of everyone in the room, they figured out exactly where the stones had been before Thanos had taken them and even narrowed it down so that they didn't have to make multiple jumps

The plan was clear.

Jump back to the past. Get the stones. Do not let anything that already happened change. Jump back to the present. Use the stones with the new gauntlet. Bring everyone back. Return the stones to exactly where they got them from.

Sounds easy enough right? That's what they thought.

As Tony and nebula finished making the last of the bracelets for the team. The rest of the gang were planning on who would go to which destination to collect the stones.

Tony, Scott and Bruce would travel to 2012, during Loki's attack on New York to get the time, mind, and space stone.

Thor and rocket would go to Asgard in 2014. The same time Jane had been possessed by the reality stone.

Then Rhodey, Nebula, Natasha and Clint would jump to 2014 too. But rhodey and nebula would go after the power stone on Morag and Natasha and clint would fly the Benetar to Vormir, collecting the soul stone.

“Sounds good. Anyone wanna back out before its too late?” Clint questioned. Suddenly 9 pairs of eyes started to shift around the room, interested to see if anyone would do as Clint said.

But no one did. This was it. They finally had a chance, after 5 excruciating years of giving up hope. they were finally going to bring everyone they loved back.

…..

9 bodies stood on the platform around the time machine. 9 nervous people who wanted to bring their family back, and would do whatever it takes to do it.

They had all been silent with worry as they stood on the time machine. Natasha noticed the looks on her friend's faces and spoke up.

“5 years ago, we lost. All of us. We lost friends. We lost family and we lost a part of ourselves. Today we get a chance to take it all back. Remember your missions. Stick with your teams. Don't let anything mess this up. If you can, try to avoid changing anything that could affect us. We don't get do-overs. Be careful. Look out for each other.  This is the fight our lives. And we're going to win, whatever it takes. Does everyone understand.”

As she looked around at her team she saw each one nod at her. Following their orders from their captain. It was strange to be in charge of a team again, considering the last time she was it was with Steve, and with different teammates. But she fell right back into her old position.

“Shes really good at that huh?” Rocket piped up, making Natasha smirk at the little racoon.

Looking down from his height, Scott smiled at Rocket and agreed. He really was a big fan of the Avengers. Kiss ass.

“Okay, let's do this.” Tony said as they all punched in their coordinates and bruce activates the timer on the control panel. Then they waited for Friday to count down from ten, Natasha gave a final look to her team before they jumped and smiled as she said.

“See you in a minute.”

[bring-forth-your-justice]

Preview of The Golden Crown’s Sterling Treasure (Goro x Reader)

Idk when it’ll be finished. I’m begging with my eyes that tomorrow will be the day, but then I remembered that I’m hella busy tomorrow. So to not drive myself insane with the guilt of promises, here’s a “part 1″ of the very long PrinceGoroxServentReader fic I've been preparing for what seems like months. 

110,000 pieces of cutlery.

300,000 servants at his very beck and call.

1,000,000 soldiers fighting in wars.

2,081,224 nuggets of Gold in all.

The tall, brunette dropped the gold coin he fiddled with, placing it on the long dining table he was seated at. His head was rested upon his hand as he stared at his many maids coming in and out of the room; coming in with the most appetizing meal, leaving with nothing in hand. His carmine red and pearl white princely garment, was slowly becoming wrinkled due his slumped over posture. If his father were to see him in such a state, disapproving glares is all that he'd receive. Not to mention the long and monotonous lecture he'd receive about 'setting an example' and 'looking professional in front of his subjects'.  

He had so much, yet nothing seemed to fulfill his needs nor wants. All of his luxuries were meaningless and barren through his eyes. Being born to inherit the crown at the age of 19, he was presented with a leisurely, carefree life. That isn't to say that his life had no lows nor troublesome situations, they weren't as frequent as of a servants or peasants.

Maybe he was thankful for his life, but who could be as genuinely thankful for such a repetitive life? The same routine, the same princely duties and classes, the casual balls filled with arrogant, rich snobs whom he detested with an immense passion. All he yearned for was something new. Maybe an adventure of sorts, a rival to fight with and to bring a pinch of spice in his life, or maybe a friend.

Although he despised acknowledging it, he had no real friend. Being as well loved as him, one would assume he'd have many acquaintances and confidants. Yet it was obscure from the public view that the dashing prince had no one he was able to truly call his friend. All those who 'wished to be his friend' only had their eyes set on one thing, the power and status they'd gain by this 'friendship'. All the women just wish to be wed to him, in turn gaining the status as queen to the throne. They could've cared less about him.

The quiet hum of the banging plates and the rushed feet of the maids, slowly lulling him to sleep. That was until a polite poke to his golden epaulettes returned him back to his original state.

He turned his head to right to get a better view of his disturber, it was one of the maids. The young lady held a golden rimmed plate tightly towards her chest. Her dress partially covered in flour and crumbs, with her apron covered to its fullest with batter. The maid looked alarmed by the dark bags under the future king's eyes.

"M-my deepest apologies my lord!" She said frantically. Goro gave out a small dismissive wave to the startled servent. "No, no. It's quite alright. This is no place nor time for me to doze off."  Goro spoke tiredly. She continued to let out a stuttery chuckle, bringing the plate to her side. "Did you require something from me?" Goro asked as he remembered the reason behind the maid's presence.

"Oh! Um well, yes. We recruited a new maid, due to the death of one of the cleaners. One of your attendants had instructed me to inform you on the matter." Goro's eyes slightly widened in surprise, but it was quickly replaced with a more saddening expression; concern filling his eyes.

"That's.." He takes a moment to recalculate his thoughts, everything he says can be used against or for him. That's the first thing he's ever learned.

"That's quite unfortunate." All of it was fake. His so called 'friendly smiles' he'd give to anyone. His feelings, he couldn't ever show how he truly felt about a situation. Rather he'd be forced to show what he thought would make the kingdom believe that he is humble, and sincere.

So what did he truly feel about this situation?

It indeed was unfortunate but it was suspicious than anything. Servants, advisors, attendants and towns folk had been randomly disappearing into thin air, then a week later they had been found dead. It became such a frequent occurrence that many were concerned with what all of this had meant.  

Goro desperately tried to find a connection behind all of this deaths, yet he'd came to a dead end. All the victims seemingly had no relations to one another. Most of those who'd died were innocent people as he was informed by the public's eye.

As future king, he was determined to find the root of this problem. It could've been to protect his people or to give his people another reason to fawn over him.

"Give her family my sincerest apologies as well as a gift basket." Goro kindly commanded the maid. "Of course, right away sire! But before I go, the attendant had recommended that you go and greet the new maid." She spoke timidly, shying away as she continued to speak.

"Y-yes, I'll get to that when I can."

(That last note is litterly me whenever I think about finishing up this story. If you reaalllly want part 2 - go to my wattpad to spoil yourselves. But if you’re that very patient human being, just wait a day or two to get the whole story!)

[snowwolf1118]

Humans Are Weird: Women’s Edition Part XIV

This update has been a long time coming, guys. My sincerest apologies for the delay. I hope you can forgive me. In the meantime, please enjoy this long, drawn-out post that is painfully slow and agonizing post. I guess I want everyone to suffer with the characters.

Part I >> Part II >> Part III >> Part IV >> Part V >> Part VI >> Part VII >> Part VIII >> Part IX >> Part X >> Part XI >> Part XII >> Part XIII

The escape plan had proceeded so smoothly until now. Balogh and her team freed a few dozen other prisoners along the way to the hangar and took down a few more Pollikons. Her group was feeling good. They had momentum. Things were looking up. And, as Balogh and the others got closer to the hangar, they kept in communication with Murakami’s, Vallion’s, and Jay’va’s groups for their escape. They were to search for the Frek’jon’s escape pods once they arrived in the hangar and to locate a habitable planet where they would lay low until they could contact the A.F. and go home.

After that, Balogh was not sure of what the A.F. would do, but she was sure she would fight for more A.F. vessels to return to this area of the universe. More victims―human, H’hish, and many more races―were likely enslaved and in need of emancipation.

Or we can just start some sort of rebellion like late twentieth and early twenty-first century movies did. Whichever comes first.

Balogh honestly believed things would change. Unfortunately, life never goes as planned.

Why? Because right now, she was splayed out on the ground, unable to move, nearly lifeless.

Balogh struggled to breathe, every single one of her muscles burned like she ran a 3K marathon in a New Harlem Province winter. Black spots danced in her vision; she could barely see. And of what she could still see? Mayhem. H’hish hunched over humans, desperately calling out their names, performing CPR. Riel’on, Kiel’ish, Jaja’ion, someone, was performing chest compressions on her. Everything she saw was a blur. Everything she heard was white noise. Everything she thought was a jumbled mess. For the first time in her life, Balogh thought for sure this moment was her death. Her frustrations and regrets; satisfactions and joys; her family and friends; all of them came to mind.

I. WON’T. DIE. I. WON’T. DIE. I WON’T DIE. I WON’T DIE. She chanted the words as she struggled for another breath, the last of her vision fading.

I can’t die...

Can’t die...

Won’t die.

No.

No...

.

.

.

“BALOGH!”

Vallion knelt over Fatima, helpless as she and the other humans collapsed one by one, going into various levels of muscle spasms and unconsciousness. CPR was attempted on the humans, but Vallion decided the chest compressions made the situation worse. Why does it feel like my chest is the one being compressed? Fatima is the one dying right in front of me. Fatima, Romano, Freshwater, Wong... All of them are the ones dying, so why do I feel this pain in my chest? What’s going on? Why can’t I stop this? How can I be so selfish? I need to fix this. Save them.

I am their superior. I need to lead them.

Vallion gripped their head, focusing their thoughts into actions. Think. Think. Think. You can’t let her die. You and her just reunited.

No.

Wait.

You can’t let anyone die. They are all your responsibility. You are their protector. Their leader. Their friend. Think, Vallion. Think.

As Vallion wracked their brain, a thought suddenly occurred to them. The humans were having difficulty breathing...but the H’hish were not. “Jon’kon, check the oxygen-carbon dioxide ratio of the air. Now.”

Startled, Jon’kon fumbled with her stolen Port Dev before she went to work checking the air composition of the ship. A heartbeat stretched into several when Jon’kon released a startled “Ah-ha!” and gave Vallion a knowing look. Soon, Jon’kon was hacking into the Frek’jon’s ventilation system and they all could hear the results of her efforts.

However, Vallion knew damage must have surely been done on all the humans and simply escaping from the Frek’jon was no longer a viable option. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Vallion looked at Jon’kon once again. “Patch me through to Murakami, Balogh, and Jay’va’s groups. We have a change of plans.”

Jay’va checked Thompson’s pulse and growled in frustration. Gone. First Pérez, then Ivanenko, and now Thompson. The other humans were down and out, suffering from whatever took Thompson and the others, but the H’hish were perfectly fine. Physically that is. A little winded, but physically fine.

Mentally...

Mentally, we’re fucked. We’re falling apart at the seams, as the human idiom goes. I’m not even over Cyborg’s death, and now I’m losing my whole team. Jay’va felt the energy of the universe crashing down on her and sweeping her along in a tidal wave.

Jay’va buried her head in her hands, feeling the hopelessness and grief pile up on right after the other because she was just that fucking lucky of a H’hish—

“ —va...”

And not to mention, she also had to deal with that thing that happened back in her cell. From that odd smell. Her head was a mess afterwards and now her memories would forever be scarred by these events—

“—COLONEL JAY’VA!”

Startled, Jay’va whipped her head around, searching for the H’hish shouting her name. “WHAT?! What could you possibly want?!” she snapped.

Gigi’ish did not flinch at her harsh words. He just held out the stolen Port Dev for her and said one name: “Vallion.”

Yeu’ish was helping Fuku’kon tend to Lt. Gen. Murakami when a Comm came in from Maj. Gen. Vallion. The escape plan was changing. Seize control of the ship. Kill all the guards. Kill anyone who stood in their way.

Then.

Then.

Then they would put the humans into the infirmary. Heal them while making their escape back to the A.F. Made sense, for the still living humans, but Yeu’ish knew as Murakami’s pulse ceased, the dead had little chance of revival. But who knows? she thought, humans always prove to be more resilient than they seem.

Krellion leaned against the central control console, watching as the ship’s security droids and feeds went down; listening as communications between guards decreased. The humans and dulgo arrogantly thought they would escape. Their little jailbreak could not succeed.

“The filth moved exactly as you predicted, Captain,” said Krellion as he pushed himself off the console. “However, I am hesitant about the extent of the neurological damages this experiment of yours could cause to the cargo.” As he spoke, Krellion pulled up the vital charts of the human cargo, assessing the current oxygen saturation levels.

Zeelot did not spare Krellion a glance as they pulled the charts towards their position. “These dulgo are as weak as the humans with whom they cohabitate. Once enough of the humans become ill, the dulgo will panic and be at our mercy. The fondness they carry for the humans will lead to their surrender.” Zeelot was correct. Already, more of the humans began showing symptoms of oxygen oversaturation and the duglo were becoming increasingly concerned for their human companions’ welfare.

Still, waiting was tedious and Krellion had no interest in toying with the cargo as Zeelot did. “As you say. Oh, these humans will do well as servants of kulgo. They are exhibiting better resistance to oxygen toxicity than the other humans,” he noted.

“Add that to their profiles,” Zeelot ordered before seating themselves down to watch the carnage.

Carnage of all Krellion’s hard work. His hard work in fixing all the neurological and physiological issues with which the humans were prone, yet Zeelot wanted to test Murakami’s loyalty and the abilities of her crew.

But my opinion does not matter. All that matters if my work wasted for a needless experiment or two. Aaaannnnd I must revive Snell again.

But whatever, Krellion truly had no say in the matter, so he just stood and watched as the cargo neared the hangar and the humans began collapsing. A few humans even fell into seizures. Krellion spoke in hushed tones to his fellow kulgo as they all became increasingly worried about the health of their cargo. The amount of overtime they all had to put forth into fixing the damages Zeelot’s experiment was causing became a headache, especially when they were due to arrive at the Market any gulkib from now. If I have to revive a single human or dulgo, I swear by the mighty reign of Ghayz Tadmir’lis, I will leave this vessel and take my team with me...

As Krellion fumed, the overhead lights dimmed and a odd chill ran down his back. He glanced at the other kulgo and they appeared as confused as he did.

However, the confusion was over within a heartbeat because within that heartbeat, the emergency lights began to flash and the alarms blared. Warnings flashed on the ship’s control console about oxygen levels increasing in the room. For Krellion, he only needed less than a qulib to understand the events that were transpiring.

The dulgo figured out the cause of the humans’ collapsing, but they were foolish to think they could kill a kulgo so easily. H’hish had higher oxygen tolerance than any humans, and kulgo as fine as Krellion and his team more so. Even the Pollikon had high oxygen tolerance. And whatever creature Captain Zeelot was, they would not fall to such a lowly and pitiful revenge tactic. Already, the room was filled with twice the oxygen levels needed for a kulgo to comfortably breathe in air and already Krellion’s team worked on combating the increased oxygen levels. “These dulgo are simpletons,” one of his team said with a laugh. Another kulgo added, “They are as clever as the humans.” Krellion could only agree with his team. The dulgo were as slow witted and unimpressive as the humans.

So that brought to question why Captain Zeelot remained so calm, and why they had such a smug look on their face. Just as Krellion opened their mouth to ask, Zeelot spoke first. “I will be returning to my quarters. And do not disturb me.” Their warning carried an additional meaning, one of which Krellion did not wish to invoke.

Swallowing his trepidation, Krellion refocused on the monitors, tracking the remaining guards and the locations of all the escaped cargo, but they were gone. The Pollikons, the ones he could see on the vids, deceased. Brutally so. The humans, remained were he last saw them, but he could see most of their life signs were gone. He and his team had their work cut out for them to revive all the worthless filth. The dulgo and other cargo were nowhere to be seen, as could be said for the escape pods. None of them showed up on the life signs monitor. They were out of range of the transmission. They jumped ship.

Murakami talked big about the loyalty of her crew, but the dulgo escaped the first chance they got. Pathetic. Dulgo are as cowardly and weak as those humans.

Krellion was so lost in his superiority that he never heard the knocking.

Only the sound of the room engulfing in flames.

After that, he only felt the searing pain of his death.

[shafferangelina95]

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