#so far being young has brought me nothing but growing pains. aren’t I supposed to be having the time of my life? i don’t k ow

[lady-grace-pens]

Is it a bad omen that I don’t know what genre I write?

FOAD is a dark romance I can see that much. ETNB is a fantasy. Htkag began as fantasy but turned into more lit fic than anything else. I hesitate calling my work even that because my work isn’t pretentious. I don’t know, it just seems like there should be more genre overlap than this right? The only connections I can spot between them are how all plots have a dramatic tone and are focused on character relationships and otherwise internal plots. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but is this a bad sign? Maybe I’m too young and I just haven’t written enough yet, I don’t know

[greensaplinggrace]

So you mentioned in another post that you have some strong thoughts on Baghra, especially about how the story frames her as one of the good guys. I would love to hear about it.

@youremotionallystablefriend: I would love to hear you rant about Baghra if you feel like it (and haven’t already)! Personally I don’t think she gets enough constructive critique in the fandom for being the one that brought Aleks up and for the way she treated her pupils and especially Alina :/

Anon: Hello! I love your thoughts on the grisha books. I'm actually interested to hear your take on Baghra

@misku-nimfa: If you are up for it, I would love to read your thoughts on Baghra or your full critique of society in the Grishaverse. Your analysis is really well structured and interesting! ^.^

Anon: Hi! I saw your recent post and was wondering if you'd share more of your thoughts on Baghra?

---

Hello everyone! I was honestly very surprised to see so many people interested in my thoughts on Baghra? I'll share what I can, but please know that this is by no means a full breakdown of her character! It’s just some Thoughts I’ve had, and they’re mostly centered around show Baghra because that’s how I was first introduced to her character. Although IMO book Baghra might actually be even worse.

I’d like to preface this by saying that many of my issues with the treatment of Baghra as a character in fandom come from the wild double standard there seems to be regarding her and the Darkling. Darkling Antis and a vast majority of the people in this fandom who don’t like his character have a disturbing habit of absolutely ripping into the Darkling for all of his faults and then turning around and treating Baghra as some sort of pristine mother figure for the exact same shit.

They’ll talk about how badass she is, how strong she is, how they sympathize with her past (although they’ll continue to dehumanize the Darkling and refuse to sympathize with his own past) and sympathize with the fact that she has to deal with the Darkling (who’s always referred to as a monster she must corral or control, as if he is inhumane and beastly. These particular comments always take on the very distinct tone of victim blaming as well). They’ll laud her for all of these “powerful girlboss” moments as if they aren’t carbon copies of the Darkling’s own behavior - as if they aren’t things Baghra herself taught him. Which is why this is the wildest double standard of all to me, because every horrible action they praise Baghra for is something she taught the Darkling, and something they cannot stand to see in him as well.

It’s as if there’s a disconnect between their consumption of the literature when it comes to the two characters, and I’m of the opinion that it’s largely because Baghra is a woman and a mother and therefore infantilized in the fandom quite a bit. In fact, Bardugo herself often infantilizes many of her female characters in her writing. This is mostly through the process of excusing their terrible deeds, not allowing them to do anything remotely dark, or brushing any morally grey actions under the rug without ever touching upon them. Which puts me in the strange position of knowing I’m supposed to sympathize with Baghra for having to deal with the monster she’s created, and instead feeling resentful of the fact that this bitter woman is held up as this wise old strict teacher instead of the abusive mentor/mother she should have been.

Now, here’s what I said to make so many of you send me asks:

Last note, in reference to your first line, and also probably a pretty unpopular opinion. I do not like Baghra. And it legit has nothing to do with the Darkling or with Alina, I just don't like her "I'm going to hit you and berate you and emotionally abuse you and manipulate you and act like the good guy at the end of it" vibe she's got going on. At least Aleksander is acknowledged as the villain within the narrative. Idk wtf Baghra is on but it's absolutely wild to me that people aren't more critical of her actions. Which is, rather fortunately for you, another rant I will save for another post if anybody ever wants to hear it lol. (but like kudos to Baghra's actress. I loved the character as a character, I just don't like the way she's framed as a good guy. Weird. Uncomfortable. She literally set bees on the kids she was teaching).

This basically summarizes most of my thoughts on Baghra as a character and how she’s portrayed. I touched on it a bit above, but the way she’s able to get away with so much and not suffer under heavier critique is honestly baffling to me. There should be a lot more criticism of her out there in the fandom. This is the woman who abused her students and neglected her son. Although to be honest I don’t even know how to quite describe the emotionally neglectful yet unhealthily codependent bond she fostered in him from a young age. IMO, Baghra’s behavior around Aleksander is creepy, and I know she has a history that makes it more understandable, but it’s still incredibly disconcerting to witness.

But let’s get back on track! First of all, her students. Whom she physically, emotionally, and mentally abuses. She’s derisive, she’s insulting, she’s belittling. She works hard to strip them of any self confidence they may have. She uses pain as a means of triggering powers. And the strict teacher excuse doesn’t fly. The “it’s only a training method!” excuse is even worse. This is literal abuse she’s heaping on her students and it’s wretched.

The first thing she does to Alina when they first meet is insult her. Then she hits her. Then she kicks her out.

Second time they interact is a montage. Baghra hits Alina multiple times. She shames her. And then when Alina actually calls a light she tells her it’s not nearly enough, effectively wiping the smile off of her face and every sign of self confidence that had been building. Then we see the door to Baghra’s hut shut in Alina’s face. So now she has been bruised, battered, berated, stripped of all self confidence, and then banished again. As training methods go, this is not only entirely ineffective, but it’s also just abusive.

Then we get this interaction between Alina and her friends:

Marie: One time, Baghra released a hive of bees on me. Nadia: Worst part is, it worked. Marie: It really did. I could summon at will after that.

Which is fucking horrifying and not talked about nearly enough. That goes beyond hitting your students. Baghra used a fear tactic on a young girl to activate her powers. She literally tortured Marie to make her powers work.

Alina throughout this conversation is looking very disheartened. She’s lacking in any self confidence and the comment about the bees has clearly affected her. For someone who’s first words to Alina were “Everyone believes that you are the one. Come back when you believe it too,”  Baghra doesn’t exactly seem keen on Alina actually believing she’s the one. If she did, she wouldn’t be stripping her of every positive emotion associated with sun summoning.

Let’s not forget that Baghra demeans Alina multiple times for her status as an orphan. How she utilizes what she knows of Alina’s emotional weaknesses to provoke her and discourage her and make her angry.

And then Baghra drugs her without consent. To take advantage of any information Alina gives her in that state. To use the way Alina reacts for her own ends.

Because why else would she say this?:

Alina: We planned to run away together. Baghra: You had plans. Perhaps he never did, because where is he now?

Which is, strangely enough, the same sense of isolation and separation from Mal and her past that Aleksander is attempting to foster. Weird how mother and son are both using the same manipulation tactics.

In fact, why does Baghra never tell Alina about the letters until she’s already engaged with Aleksander? Baghra must have known he was taking them. Alina talks about it enough. Baghra must have known he was isolating her from Mal. How could she not, when it’s revealed later that she has spies in the Little Palace collecting information on him? How could she not, when she knows he’s the villain from the beginning - when she knows he’s manipulating Alina?

Baghra knows, and yet she keeps the same lies Aleksander does and furthermore uses that information to make Alina feel even more isolated and weak. Baghra literally just piggy-backs on Aleksander’s manipulation and then exacerbates it. She wants Alina to feel no attachments to her past because she wants to use Alina as well. But for some reason, because this manipulation and treatment of Alina as some sort of tool is done by the woman who opposes the Darkling, it’s suddenly okay. As if it still isn’t the same terrible shit but with a different perpetrator. I mean damn, at least Aleksander feels something for Alina. Baghra’s just cold.

So, point by point. Baghra mentions how Mal doesn’t care for Alina, she mentions Alina’s failings constantly, she mentions Alina being an orphan, she constantly hits her, she guilts Alina about orphans dying, she works to instill a sense of isolation from her friends and her family.

And when Alina finally comes to Baghra, having decided to abandon her attachments to her past and her attachments to Mal, the words that ring in her head are Baghra's words - “needing anyone else is weak.”  Which is honestly just a horrible sentiment in general, but an even worse one when considering how hard these people are working to detach Alina from anybody who can help her or give her an outside perspective.

Strangely, it’s also similar to this line:

The problem with wanting, is that it makes us weak.

...which is spoken by Baghra’s son. You know, the Darkling? Our big bad villain? The one Baghra raised?

Which gives me the impression that Baghra’s teaching methods with her students are really not that far off from the teaching methods she used on him as he was growing up. It’s a horrifying thought, and leads into my problems with her relationship with Aleksander.

First of all, show wise. What the fuck.

Aleksander: They’re punishing us for being Grisha. Baghra: Punishing you. You made him afraid. Now he wants you to fear him. Aleksander: I won a war for him. Baghra: And in doing so, started a war on us.

I get that she’s trying to convey how the king feels here, but it still feels incredibly victim blamey from a narrative standpoint. It isn’t Aleksander’s fault the king fears him when he used his powers under the King’s banner to help him win a war. Aleksander trusted this man who betrayed him and then betrayed his people, and we get a line from his mother, entirely unsympathetic, talking about how it’s his fault all of these people are dying.

Baghra: Where’s the girl, your healer? Aleksander: Dead. She died because of me. Baghra: She died because they always do. They’re not as strong as you and me.

Baghra’s use of the term ‘girl’ and ‘healer' here instead of Luda is pretty telling. She either doesn’t like Luda or doesn’t care for her. Either way, this is the woman her son loves, and Baghra talks about her so dispassionately. Then he comments on Luda’s death and there’s no reaction except to say that they always do.

Like, her son is literally broken up over here. Grieving. Desperate. Run ragged. Caged and hunted. Feeling guilty as hell. Mind running through a million different ways he could possibly save all of these people. And Baghra offers him nothing except a paltry “people die, get over it, we’re better than that, she didn’t matter anyway.”

Honestly, how is Aleksander even still functioning at this point? He has no support system and he’s working against a king and his army to protect a group of civilians he could easily abandon to save himself. The sheer amount of responsibility and mental strain keeping track of a group alone entails is already monstrous, but adding in every other factor? The recent death of Luda, the fact that they’re cornered and they’ve been hunted down while fleeing across the land, the fact that he was just a couple hours ago forced to his knees and entirely at these men’s mercy, begging for Luda’s life. And here his mother is, if anything a negative support system. Offering no other ideas, telling him to give up hope, not even offering the barest smidgeon of emotional support as he grieves, putting everything on his shoulders.

It pisses me the fuck off.

Aleksander: You’re the one who taught me how to kill, mother. Their blood is on your hands as much as mine.  Baghra: I taught you so you could protect yourself. Not them.

Once more, Baghra highlights how he needs to protect himself. How he should abandon the people he’s protecting. How he shouldn't help others and only ever himself. Once more, she says it’s my way or the high way. There’s zero effort to work with him. Zero effort to sympathize or compromise. She’s constantly pushing him to take the one option she knows he won’t take. The hell did she think was going to happen?

Also, Baghra taught him how to kill. Not necessarily great parenting, but understandable given the circumstances of his upbringing. But the level to which she takes it is honestly concerning. Like, look no further than this woman to see where Aleksander got it from lol.

Baghra also forbids him from using Merzost. Which is great and all, she gets to claim the moral high ground. But she doesn’t offer a single alternative except to flee and let everybody die. There was legitimately no other option to Merzost except for torture and death. If there was, Baghra sure as hell didn’t help Aleksander come up with one. Aleksander, who - by the way - is in no fit emotional state to be making any kind of decision right now.

So anyways, that’s just my tv show grief regarding Baghra, and it’s not even really all of it. I don’t want to make this an hour long read though lmao. But I’ll go over a few other things.

First of all, Baghra’s whole “We’re the only two that matter. We have to do whatever we can to protect ourselves,” mentality is one that she actively touts to Aleksander on a regular basis when he’s incredibly young. It’s honestly a wonder he grows up to care about other people at all. But the mentality itself is something Aleksander still heavily internalized in regards to protecting himself and those he deems worthy at any cost.

There’s a moment in the books when Aleksander is attacked and nearly drowned by some kids who wanted his bones (one of which was a close friend of his). He uses the cut in self defense and then blames the nearby Otkazat’sya village. Baghra knows he’s lying, and yet she allows an entire village to get slaughtered for harming him. This is a disproportionately violent act that Baghra approves of, and Aleksander as a kid is definitely internalizing that mindset.

Also, Baghra’s behavior around Aleksander has always been weirdly possessive and controlling. Especially when it comes to the people he loves. Her actions often come across as her trying to isolate him in order to keep him by her side, even when the relationships he has are clearly intimate. Which... is especially strange for a mother to be doing to her son.

She was also an extremely emotionally neglectful mother. Based on the show and what I gathered from her actions there, I’m actually half convinced she was physically abusive as well, in that “I think I’m being a stern, good parent figure when in reality I’m actually harming my child” kind of way. She fosters codependence with her son and then refuses to provide for any of his emotional needs. She drives it into his head that everybody dies, that he’ll always be alone, that love is useless and power is everything. She denies him the opportunity to be soft and works to harden him at a young age. She tells him he must never allow people to touch him, except she doesn’t work to supplement those physical needs in any way. She essentially abuses him.

Honestly, I could go on. But in reality the simple fact is that I just don’t like her. I think she’s a hypocrite. I think she’s abusive. I think she’s a terrible mentor and an even worse mother. And I think the fandom and the books are willing to brush aside so many of her faults simply because she opposes the Darkling.

I’m sorry if this isn’t what you guys were looking for! It sounds like a lot of you wanted a more of a sophisticated breakdown, but my thoughts on Baghra come with a heap of emotional baggage lol. It feels weird to say this now, but I actually do like the character as a character, I just,,, don’t like her in every other aspect. My feelings on Baghra are just a bit personal, to be honest. But hopefully this was at least comprehensible??

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats

Masterlist Link

To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.

A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.

That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.

All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”

The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.

He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”

Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.

Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.

“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.

“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“

“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.

“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.

“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”

“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”

“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.

“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.

“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”

[mianavs]

meeting the zoldycks pt. 1

part 7 of Cathexis

a/n: we’re finally here~ splitting this up into 2 parts to make it more readable.

wc: 2.2k

Cathexis

Pangs of pain from your leg jostled you awake to a foreign room. With your instincts kicking in, you tried moving only to realize your right leg was in a hard cast and the events that led to your injury replayed in your head ending with the feel of Illumi’s strong arms carrying you to his car. 

Your eyes examined the dimly lit but well-furbished room for a hint that would dispel the growing fear in your chest regarding your whereabouts only to watch a Zoldyck butler come in with a tray of medical supplies that included a syringe needle.

Before you could utter a word, the young female butler set down the tray and rushed out of the room.

Anxious, you dragged your body to the edge of the bed and ignored the growing ache in your leg. Just when you were about to set your legs over the edge, purple bruising on your arm caught your eye and halted your progress. Darting your eyes up to the syringe needle the butler brought in, your mind pieced together everything and the realization you’d been sedated broke your composure.

Like clockwork, the door opened to reveal Illumi who entered the room and closed the door behind him. He approached your bed and trailed his impassive eyes over your form, lingering on your casted leg, before breaking the silence.

“How do you feel?”

“How long have I been here?” Your voice was hoarse from disuse but that didn’t stop the questions spilling from your lips. “Why am I here? What happened to bodies? Where’s my phone?”

Illumi’s eyes narrowed the slightest before repeating his question but you disregarded his question yet again.

“I need to get out of here. Ruo Wen is prob—”

Illumi’s bloodlust cut you off as the air in the room seemed to thicken and your surroundings blurred until all you could focus on was the man before you. Beads of cold sweat dotted your skin as fear coursed through your veins in the presence of such malicious Ren. You were trembling like a leaf when Illumi spoke once again.

“How. Do. You. Feel?”

You opened you mouth to speak but nothing came out as your eyes remained fixed on Illumi’s. As if he was pleased with your shaken state of mind, the bloodlust receded and your vision and breathing returned to normal.

“…F-fine! I’m fine…can I go now?” You sputtered, still reeling from the malice that’d permeated the air seconds ago.

Illumi quirked his head. “Not in this state. Your leg needs to heal completely.”

“I can recover at home just as easily.”

Illumi’s face twisted into an eerie smile. “After your little incident, I don’t think I can trust you being on your own—at least not like this.” His eyes trailed to your injured leg and your face flushed in embarrassment at the reminder of your defeat against Saul’s men.

“It was your fault he came for me.” You muttered, avoiding Illumi’s haunting gaze.

“I know. That’s why I took the job to kill him.” He replied absent-mindedly.

“So, you weren’t tracking me?” You cringed at how the question sounded but one look at Illumi’s oblivious face eased your embarrassment.

“No, I knew you were in Meteor City and, after reading up on his recent movements, I figured he would try to harm you.”

You were quiet as Illumi’s words sunk in. Despite the twisted reasoning behind it, you had to admit he’d saved your life and you were grateful. Besides, he was right regarding your current state; you wouldn’t be able to work with your leg in a cast. If you stayed at the Zoldyck mansion, you wouldn’t have to worry about medical bills, treatment, food, or running into your parent’s if they happened to drop by your condo.

“I’ll stay here until my leg heals but—”

“I’ll be sure to compensate you for your injuries and for the time you won’t be working.” Illumi dug into his pocket and fished out your phone before handing it to you. “Your boss called you a couple days ago.”

Scrolling through your missed calls, you looked up to ask the question you’d first asked him only to see Illumi closing the door behind him. The curse on your lips died when a notification from your bank confirmed the deposit of your compensation and you lied back down with a sigh before closing your eyes and going back to sleep.

It was a week after the incident when boredom lured you out of your room with the help of the crutches Canary brought you. While Illumi was on a mission, Canary had been the one tending to your needs and providing her companionship while you recovered. You quickly grew fond of the younger girl and appreciated her friendly personality. However, you couldn’t suppress your hunter instinct any longer and decided to roam the mansion in search for intel on Illumi and the Zoldycks.

As you hobbled down the hallways of the mansion, you noticed they were as dimly lit as your room with only a few lamps adorning the stone walls. You couldn’t help but chuckle how much the home reflected the ominous reputation of its inhabitants.

The possibility of running into one of the Zoldycks was one that you welcomed regardless of how dangerous it seemed. You needed to know more about the other family members—particularly Silva and Zeno—and what better way than to do it face to face.

Just when your arms began to ache after wandering for what seemed like an hour, a flash of white hair from the corner of your eyes caught your attention and you found yourself face to face with the third son, Killua Zoldyck.

You froze, unsure of what to say to the boy, but spoke when he turned around to head in the opposite direction.

“Wait! Do you know where I can rest?” Holding your breath until he turned, you plastered a pained smile on your face and leaned against the wall. “I think I overdid it.”

He was entirely different from Illumi. Where Illumi was inscrutable, you could see a myriad of emotions on Killua’s face that ranged from surprise, confusion, and finally concession. With an exasperated sigh, he closed the distance between you.

“There’s a small library nearby. Follow me.” His tone was harsh but he walked slowly enough for you to keep up with him.

The library was brighter than the hallways, with a large window letting sunlight stream in. It was fairly large with several bookcases filled with books, a couples of lounge chairs, a table, and a lit fireplace. The room was almost cozy and you let out a sigh of relief when you collapsed on the comfortable chair. Killua took your crutches and leaned them against your armrest before taking a seat in the adjacent to you.

“Thank you…” Debating whether or not to call him by his name, you trailed off only for Killua to interject.

“Killua.” He sounded hesitant but curious, nonetheless. “You’re my brother’s fiancé aren’t you.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m not his fiancé yet. I still have a couple months left of freedom.” Adding the last bit to feel out the nature of his relationship with Illumi, you were pleased to hear the chortle that escaped the Killua.

“Guess I’m not the only one who finds Illumi suffocating.” The sadness in his eyes betrayed his joking tone and you wondered just how suffocating Illumi’s presence was to his younger brother. “So how did you get hurt?”

You told him about Rivero’s death, your job in Meteor City, and the encounter with Saul and his men ending in their deaths at the hand of Illumi. Killua was quick to point out Illumi as the root cause of your accident and you quickly found yourself warming up to him.

“Illumi will kill anyone who interferes with his plans. He also likes to control those around him.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You said and rubbed the back of your neck where Illumi’s needle had once been embedded. “Sounds like you don’t agree with his ways.”

Killua visibly tensed and you wondered if you went too far. Just when you were going to backtrack, Killua’s body deflated in defeat before scanning the room for intruders despite being the only two people present.

“Illumi and my father expect me to be an assassin for the rest of my life but I don’t want to keep killing people.” Killua admitted, fidgeting with the material of his shorts.

“And what do you want to do?”

Killua’s eyes widened as they met yours and you couldn’t help but feel for the younger boy. “I…I want to have fun.”

You reached over and placed your hand over his. “Then you should go and have fun. This is our only life so we should do the things we want to do—not what other’s want us to do.”

“Then why don’t you try to break off things with Illumi. If it’s contract-based then there should be ways to null it.”

Watching Killua wrack his brain for ways to break off your betrothal caused a surge of warmth to spread across your chest. He was nothing like Illumi or the rumors that circulated regarding the Zoldycks and you felt grateful to have met him first. With your mind clouded by emotions, you let your guard down even more and opened your mouth to tell Killua about your plan.

“Actually, my parents and I are—”

The door swung open to reveal an old man with white hair. You raised your guard and shut your mouth as Zeno Zoldyck shuffled over to you and Killua. With the opportunity to find out more about the Zoldycks and your marriage deal before you, the corners of your mouth rose to mimic a shy smile and you lowered your gaze.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Zoldyck.”

You looked up to find him sitting next to Killua as he regarded you before smirking. “I’m sure you are.”

He saw behind your smile and sugar-coated words but you continued the façade to avoid a confrontation you weren’t ready for. “Thank you for allowing me to recover in your home, Mr. Zoldyck, and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Call me Zeno,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Mr. Zoldyck is my son. As for your stay, it’s no inconvenience, after all, this will be your home soon enough.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth. You felt helpless in front of the man responsible for your betrothal and the urge to leave the mansion returned.

“How has your recovery been?”

“Huh?”

The question brought you back from your thoughts and you found Zeno studying your face the way Illumi did only you could see a twinge of genuine interest in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s been going well. My leg is almost completely healed thanks to Canary’s care.”

Zeno smiled at the mention of the young butler. “It’s good to hear Canary has served you well.”

“Did Illumi ask you for Canary?” Killua interjected but Zeno merely chuckled and shook his head.

“No, I offered her up when I heard what happened to Y/N.” Zeno then turned to you. “You see, Canary is under my supervision and, as your grandfather’s granddaughter, I wanted to make sure you were cared for.”

Zeno’s words caught you off guard. You’d always assumed Zeno hated your deceased grandfather for the large debt, so finding out that he personally sent one of his butlers to attend you was a revelation you hadn’t expected.

“Were you close with my grandfather?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have lent him so much money if we weren’t” The old man laughed while you tried to make sense of the information you’d been given.

“I just assumed you held a grudge against him for the massive amount of debt.” You admitted, hoping Zeno would disclose more.

“Perhaps at one point I did, but he was a good friend despite his poor money management skills. Illumi told me he got into debt with other people and that you and your parents are paying off that debt.”

Your throat closed at the mention of the “other debt” lie you’d told Illumi. It wasn’t that you weren’t prepared to recount the lie to Zeno or the other Zoldycks but the way he said it, made you doubt it’s effectiveness.

Gone was the geniality on Zeno’s face as his eyes searched for a chink in your armor that he could exploit. Knowing you were on thin ice, you played off your surprise as embarrassment over the large amounts of debt your late grandfather owed others which seemed to get Zeno off your tail.

Killua saved you by changing the topic to your work experience as a hunter and you were more than happy to oblige with tales of your jobs from the most difficult, interesting, and just flat out weird. Killua seemed to enjoy your tales while Zeno would nod occasionally to show he was listening but never commented. Eventually, Killua asked about the Hunter Exam but just then a knock on the door interrupted you and the door swung open to reveal Gotoh, one of the butlers you were familiar with, who informed Zeno that dinner was being served.

“You should join us, Y/N.” Zeno declared and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. “My son and his wife would like to meet you.”

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - xii (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: While Lord Rumlow is being tortured, his fellow disgraced comrade is found in another kingdom’s port. 

Warnings: underwhelming filler chapter, descriptions of torture, 

Word Count: 2.3k

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

The musical clattering of the coins in the cloaked man’s pouch were muffled beneath the several hollered orders. York’s docks were packed to brim with several ships that brought in various goods for the young prince’s name day. From what the man could make out, the king and queen were determined to make this the best name day the young boy had ever experienced. He was surprised to find out, it would be the young man’s last.

He overheard one sailor planning to ship off. Good. He thought. Put as much distance between me and Brooken. The man stopped the sailor, hailing him over and flashing him the pouch of coins. “Where to, old man?” the young sailor asked. The cloaked man scoffed, not used to being addressed in such a manner.

“Far.” The cloaked man answered, swallowing his pride. He thought his life was more valuable than a status or a label. “Wherever you’d take me, boy.”

The young sailor stared into the pouch. The coins shimmered under the hot sun’s rays. There were enough coins in the bag to help his aunt. He probably wouldn’t have to sail ever again. “I’m headed to the Old World, sir,” the young sailor explained. “I’m setting sail in a few hours or so.”

The older man grumbled a bit. He didn’t like the idea of staying in York for a few more hours. He remembered the advice he had told a young queen days before – the longer you wait, the slimmer the chances at escape became. But he was in no place to argue, and no other ship was leaving, so he agreed. “What’s your name, sir?” The young boy asked.

“Alex.”

As Anthony and his wife were busy with the name day arrangements, trumpets blared out a somber tune throughout the halls of Iron Tower. The king stopped midsentence, registering the meaning – a noble had died. An awful feeling bubbled in his chest as he began to think his son did not make it to his final name day.

Moments later, Ser James Rhodes pushed open the throne room doors. Anthony frowned when he saw the redhaired Natasha, who was supposed to be in Brooken at your side. It was her duty as one of your ladies in waiting.

“Your majesties,” Natasha bowed.

“What’s happened?” His wife asked with a similar confused frown that mirrored his own. “Is your queen with you?”

Natasha took a deep breath as she looked around the crowded throne room. All eyes bore into her, all wondering the same. They had all heard the low notes from the trumpet… Some had assumed it called for the death of their prince, but had Lady Natasha come to deliver the body of their princess, instead?

“No, your grace,” Natasha answered after long beats of silence. “My queen is safe in Brooken.” She wasn’t sure how true those words were, but after witnessing the pure desperation on King Steven’s face and voice as he tried to find you, she had a bit of hope.

“Then, why are you here?” Anthony asked the younger woman. “Why aren’t you with your queen?”

“She asked me to deliver the body of …” Natasha gulped. Saying her name made it all too real. “Lady… Lady Wanda, who recently …” She choked on her words, tears brimming in her green eyes. “Who recently passed.”

“Oh, dear god.” The queen gasped. She nervously clasped the pendent on her necklace.

The king’s frown did not relent. He stared down at the young woman. Her tears were justified – she had lost a friend after all – but her eyes spoke a different story. There was something more to the simple tale she spun. He waved off everyone in the room, dismissing them from the chamber.

“Tell me the truth, Lady Natasha,” he urged, “for I see a deeper sadness in your eyes.”

“Your grace,” Lady Natasha muttered. Under your orders, she was not to spread the story of Wanda’s assault. As gruesome and horrible as the events that lead to her death were, the mention of her losing her maidenhood before marriage would tarnish her reputation. York’s laws would call that she be buried in an unmarked grave alongside common criminals who had no family. “My queen has demanded my silence.”

“You may be my daughter’s lady, but you are in my court,” Anthony pushed. His tone menacing, but after being in Brooken’s court under the rule of the once hailed Cruel King Rogers, it did not phase her. “You can tell me yourself, or I can bring in someone who will force it out of you.”

“Tony.” Your mother scolded. She cast a look of pity to Natasha. “Please, Lady Natasha, speak freely.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The arrow whistled in the air as the arrowhead pierced through the massive wooden board. A loud thuck! echoed throughout the silent stables followed by a pathetic whimper. Three men watched in the sidelines as the queen pulled another arrow from her quiver.

“Do you think she’s taking this a bit far?” Lord Wilson, though thoroughly impressed with your archery skills, grew rather restless as his queen toyed with her prisoner. Another arrow sliced through the air and made a similar thuck sound.

“She hasn’t even hit him once,” Steven reasoned. He, too, was impressed with your skills though he was rather disappointed that you had yet to graze his cousin’s skin. “My love,” his voice echoed, “you can get much closer than that.”

“Is that a taunt?” You asked, readying another arrow. Your husband smirked and shrugged.

Rumlow, whose chin was previously tucked into his chest as he cowered in fear, raised his head and shot an angry glare at his cousin. “Steve, you son of a –“he gasped when an arrow flew right in front of his face, inches from his eyes.

“And before, you think you can run,” you called out. Rumlow didn’t even hear – nor see – you draw an arrow as he screamed out in agony. The pain shot through his body as his eyes found an arrow lodged into his knee. You lowered the bow and sent a smirk his way before walking off towards the castle. “Bring him back to his cage.” You ordered the two guards who were in charge of his imprisonment.

As they dragged the disgraced lord away, James sent a curious glance towards his king. “I’m worried about her.” James muttered.

“As am I,” Sam agreed.

“She’s angry,” Steven said. “Her anger is rather justified.”

“Rumlow should’ve already been executed for his crimes,” Sam reminded. “If you are keeping him alive to sate your queen’s vengeance, then I’m afraid you are the cruel king you’re painted out to be.” The men chuckled at his jest.

“We cannot execute a noble without a proper trial,” Steven sighed.

“You beheaded Sharon without – “

“She confessed to the king about her betrayals,” James explained. “Rumlow has not.”

Steven added, “(Y/N)’s merely trying to coax it out of him.”

“He’s a rather tough shell to crack.” Sam agreed. “How is she, really, Steve?”

The king sighed. He glanced to the castle to see that you had already disappeared within its walls. Steven could barely understand your grief nor your pain. In the days that followed Rumlow’s capture, he had expected it to be easier for you. You had the opportunity to lash out and torture his cousin, and, to his surprise, you gladly took it. Steven thought that after wreaking havoc on his cousin that you would finally open up to him and allow him to be there for you, but you barely spoke to him about the incidents that plagued your nightmares. In fact, you barely spoke to him at all.

“It’s as if I’ve married a ghost,” Steven shook his head. “She thrashes around at night. I fear she replays the terrors in her mind when her eyes close. I see it in her eyes. Beneath the anger, the rage… She’s … She’s broken.” He sighed and rubbed his chin, slightly missing the roughness of his beard. “Any word of Pierce’s whereabouts?”

“Some say he’s hidden within the ranks of Thanos’s army. Others say he’s fled on a boat, but we would’ve caught him by now if he had been…” James said.

“Has King Anthony been informed?” Steven asked.

“We sent word we were looking for him, yes, but I’m sure Nat would relay the current events that took place to him,” James sighed. “Perhaps, you should talk to your wife?”

Steven shook his head. He didn’t want to pressure you into reopening the wounds – though he wasn’t even sure if the wounds had healed, yet. He felt as if he were walking on thin ice around you. Too harsh of a step forward, the ice would snap, and he’d get lost in the cold. He didn’t want to lose you by pushing you too hard. He had to believe that you’d come back to him in your own time.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Steven slowly entered the bedchamber. He had expected you to be sitting on the bed or standing on the balcony – it had become one of your favorite places after the night with the lanterns. But you were nowhere to be found. The king began to worry about your absence when he heard sloshing of water coming from the bath.

He knocked on the door before he entered. “(Y/N)?”

“He has yet to confess,” you muttered. Your knees were pushed up against your chest with your head resting on top of them. You were growing increasingly annoyed by Brock’s resilience. You glanced up at your husband who had nothing but concern all over his face.

“He will eventually,” Steve whispered. “But I’m not concerned about his confession…”

“No,” you said. “You shouldn’t be. You should be preoccupied with finding Pierce.”

“I’ve sent men out to look for him.”

“They aren’t doing their job!” You snapped. “Pierce is a powerful man. He’ll bribe his way to safety! You have to –“

“(Y/N)…”

“No!” Steve’s tongue grazed the back of his teeth as he watched you thrash about in the water. “We can’t… I can’t… I can’t just sit and wait while he – they – get away with this.” Your voice shook as you took your head in your hands. “I … I don’t – I can’t.” He watched as the rage slowly receded as the grief took over.

Instinctively, your husband rushed to your side and wrapped himself around you. He didn’t mind his clothes getting wet – he was just concerned for you. He rubbed your back as he tried to soothe you, allowing you to cry into his chest.

“I want him dead, Steve,” you whispered, voice muffled into his clothes. “I want them both dead.” The words frightened you. You would’ve never wished death upon anyone, but the two men deserved it.

“As do I,” he nodded. “But we cannot execute him without a confession.”

“He will not confess.” You repeated.

“I will make him confess,” Steve promised.

“Is it awful that I want to be the one to swing the ax?”

Steve shook his head. “No. You deserve to be the one to put him into his grave.” He kissed the top of your head.

“I want him to look me in the eyes and tell me everything,” you muttered. “I want him to confess.”

“He’ll crack.” Steve promised. “You will make him crack.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“Boy!” Pierce called for the young sailor – Peter was his name. “Boy!”

“What, old man?” Peter snapped as he loaded the cargo onto the ship. Peter grew rather annoyed with the man’s incessant complaints. If he got off his lazy ass and helped, maybe I’ll load these faster, Peter thought as he rolled his eyes.

“What’s taking so long?”

The sailor sighed as he looked over to see kingsguard searching every boat. Peter shrugged. “Can’t leave, yet.”

“And why not?”

“You hidin’ from somethin’?” Peter asked, arching an eyebrow at the cloaked man. He wondered why “Alex” wore a cloak… The sun was blistering hot.

“I’m just not fond of boats,” Pierce waved his hand. “Just want to get the travel over with.”

Peter sighed as the kingsguard approached. “Well, I think the king’s looking for something… or someone. He’s got kingsguard searching boats.”

“What?” Pierce’s eyes widened.

“You!” Ser James Rhodes stalked up to the young sailor. “Have you seen any strangers recently?”

Peter shrugged. “Just him.” He said, pointing to the cloaked man who was huddled up in the corner of the boat. “He’s just hitching a ride with me. What are you men looking for?”

The knight paid no attention to the young man’s question. His attention focused on the man in the cloak. “Odd choice of clothing on this hot day, sir,” Rhodes told the man. The boat rocked beneath his feet as he stepped onto it.

“You’re the one in a metal suit.” Pierce faked an accent.

Peter’s face scrunched in confusion. The man hadn’t spoken like that before.

“Well, you’re the one hiding behind a thick cloak,” Rhodes chided, faking a laugh. He took another step towards the boat. His hand clutched the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it if needed. “Please do reveal yourself, sir.”

“I’m fine where I am.”

“I’m afraid I must insist.” Another step. Another.

The cloaked man suddenly leapt up, a short dagger in his hand. He swung at the knight, who brought his sword up, deflecting the older man’s attack with ease. His sword cut through the man’s wrist. Pierce groaned in agony as his free hand shot up to grab at the bleeding stump. Rhodes grabbed Pierce by the cloak and hauled him off the boat.

“I believe the Brooken King has been searching for you, Lord Pierce,” Rhodes said. “But my king wants a few words.” He walked past Peter. “Thank you, kid. The crown appreciates it,” he told him. “Sorry ‘bout the boat.”

[antihero-writings]

The Boy with the Unspeakable Name (Ch11)

Fandom: Harry Potter (and the Chamber or Secrets)

Fic Summary: Tom Riddle may have won his battle with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but there were a few unforeseen consequences; loss of Tom’s memory being the most obnoxious of them. Is it possible to stop Tom’s past from becoming his future? Or is the young Tom Riddle doomed to repeat his mistakes?

Notes: Alright everyone I'M BACK ...And I'm so so SO sorry that I took so long to update. Over the past few months I took my first real break from posting fanfiction overall in a long time.

Before I posted this chapter, I actually ended up heavily editing some of the previous chapters, which I'd like to inform those who read the originals about first. (Currently only the Ao3 version, and the reblog version of this fic with the picture on top are up-to-date.)

* I made Tom overall more polite. I was of the belief that his politeness was not an innate trait, and without memory, he would be a bit more unpleasant, and then we could see him grow with time. I do still believe it's not an innate personality trait, but a couple things made me realize he really should act differently in my fic. * I made Snape treat Tom better in the interrogation chapter. Both at the beginning and end. I liked the ending with the Levicorpus spell, and I do kinda miss it, especially because it informed Harry's reactions, but I think it was just too mean, especially because of something I'm going for later. * I added a conversation with the other boy in the hospital wing. (By the way, if you go back to read that and can think of more things they should talk about, don't hesitate to let me know!)

...I think those are all the big things! Feel free to offer feedback on the changes if you read them!

I'm so sorry to everyone who was hoping for faster updates. I truly do appreciate your comments and support deeply, and hope that you will continue to read and still enjoy it. I would still love to hear what you think!! <3 <3

Chapter 11: The House of Books

“The summer? With you? And Harry Potter?”

Tom had been examining the objects Snape had brought him—objects which had apparently once belonged to him—and blinked, raising his head to look at him.

“Believe me, I am not thrilled about it either.”

“No, it’s not that—well, it is—it’s just…” He paused, running his fingers along the clothes laid out on the bed before him, then squinted up at Snape. “I’m trying to discern why this is a good idea.”

Snape looked away, seemingly wondering that himself.

“I think, with time, you’ll find that our headmaster has a very unique sense of what is good for others. He believes uncomfortable situations often serve for people’s betterment.” He looked off to the side and muttered, “Whether or not they agree.”

“What sort of ‘betterment’ does this serve?”

“I suppose he would like the three of us to…”—He exhaled—“get along.”

Tom raised an eyebrow a second time, as if to say Us? Really?

“Futile though it may be,” Snape added.

Tom bit his lip, internally assessing the situation as he also returned to assessing the objects.

It wasn’t ideal—that didn’t need stating. Tom had a difficult time fathoming why Dumbledore—who seemed to bear him no ill-will—would want him to live with one person who had a rather insurmountable grudge against him, and another who didn’t seem to like him much better. He wanted them to ‘get along?’ `Surely that couldn’t be it. There had to be more to it.

Was Dumbledore really so naive as to think they’d grow closer instead of hate each other more? Not that he quite understood why they hated each other in the first place.

“Is there a reason I can’t stay here over the summer? I wouldn’t mind.”

Clearly Snape would have preferred that as well.

“You no doubt heard at the Feast that there has been some question as to whether Hogwarts is entirely safe. The Board of Governors likely wouldn’t approve of a student staying over the summer until they are able to deny these suspicions. Also, the headmaster wants you to learn magic over the summer, and due to few teachers possessing a proclivity to stay at Hogwarts during this time, we must make other arrangements.”

Tom’s breath bated at the reveal that he’d be learning magic, his mind beginning to buzz. He tried not to let his excitement leak into his voice:

“You’ll be teaching me magic?”

“Do keep up.”

“So…” He sat back. “What’s Harry going to do?”

“Mister Potter will be…taking up space as usual, I presume.”

Tom stifled a laugh; he hadn’t been expecting such a response from a professor.

“You don’t like Harry, do you?”

“I’m not…particularly fond of him.”

“Is it too forward of me to say it doesn’t appear you’re particularly fond of me either?”

“I pains me to say you’ll have adequate time to learn there aren’t a great many things I feel an extensive amount of fondness for.”

Tom could already see it now.

“Consider it a trial period, of sorts.” Snape swept around the room as he altered the direction of conversation. “If you are able to succeed over the summer, you may continue your schooling at Hogwarts when the next year begins. How much you learn, and how quickly, will determine the year in which you are placed. That is, if you’re placed in any year at all.” He looked down his hooked nose at him like that was both the most likely option, and the most preferable.

Tom could tell hidden behind his words was the idea that this ‘trial period’ was about more than just how adept he was at magic. He’d didn’t need telling that he’d have to be careful in more ways than magical.

“Do you have any other business to attend to before we leave?”

“Wait, we’re leaving now?”

“I don’t come to the hospital wing for pleasant chats if that’s what you’re asking.”

Tom bit his lip. In all honesty he would have liked to stay and explore the school more, but he could tell Snape wasn’t the kind of person one could negotiate such things with.

He turned back to the items that were supposed to be his.

“Is this really all I have?” He asked softly.

Sure all the essentials were there: clothes, books, toiletries and the like, but nothing more personal. No pictures for his nightstand, or even a keepsake to remind him of home, of family. Nothing that could tell him a little more about himself.

Snape paused a moment before he replied: “All of which I’m aware.”

Tom didn’t say anything. Merely put everything back in the trunk and followed Snape to the door.

“Don’t you have anything to bring home with you?” Tom asked.

“Don’t you think a skilled wizard such as myself would have methods of sending it to its proper location?”

They spent the walk across the grounds in silence, which could probably be considered steely, though Tom didn’t mind. The grounds around Hogwarts, and what little he saw of the castle, were altogether beautiful, and empty conversation would only have dulled his enjoyment. He turned around, walking backwards, a smile creeping upon his face upon at the sight of the castle in its full glory. He came to find this wasn’t a school, this was a palace, a haven.

A—

The word home rose to the surface of his chest.

It occurred to him this was the first time he’d smiled since he lost his memory. Really and truly smiled.

The feeling wasn’t half bad.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You like it?”

Tom cleared his throat. “It’s nice I guess.” But he couldn’t stuff the smile down, couldn’t quite figure out what this feeling was.

He must be a student, surely. Otherwise, why would he feel such fondness for the place?

He didn’t think Snape would reply, and was surprised to hear, barely audible, “I always thought as much.”

They arrived at a wrought iron gate with winged boars on either side—(really living up to the name, Tom supposed. All they needed was a decent amount of warts on them). Once they had passed through it, Snape stopped abruptly and held out his arm. It seemed he was expecting Tom to take it.

Tom wasn’t quite sure why he ought to do this, (and was rather offput by the thought of touching this man). Still, he did as he was told and—

He felt like he was being pigeonholed through a pipe. When the journey ended he was in an entirely new location, and wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t feel sick.

"Apparating for the first time can often make one feel unwell,” Snape informed the doubled-over Tom in a way that didn’t signify he really cared.

As Tom regained his bearings, he thought for a moment, in the same way he quite liked the walk along the grounds, he probably would have rather enjoyed traveling across the countryside. It struck him, that, while this sort of travel certainly got the job done, if wizards had a type of travel more like flying; allowing one to see the view, but also get where they needed to go quickly, he would like to learn it.

The new location, however, was far drearier and less pleasing to the eyes. Rather than an enchanting (and probably enchanted) forest, bordering sunny grounds, and a castle whose majesty was unmatched (at least in his current memory), this was a grimy, cobbled street, like a dull pencil: grey, disappointing, and without its sharpness.

He was almost certain the place was non-magical in nature. He couldn’t believe anyone magical would allow their cities to collect this much grime and…boringness. Identical brick townhouses lined those streets, their chimneys spewing smoke into the air, causing a low cloud of what could be either smog or fog to hang over the place, making the air warmer and more humid than necessary. Snape’s house was the last in the row, (at least, he assumed it was Snape’s as it was the one they were heading towards), and across from it he could see a black river winding through the mist.

Snape flicked his wand, unlocking what was presumably his front door.

Often houses have a certain, indefinable smell to them, but when Tom stepped inside this one, he found it wasn’t so indefinable: parchment, and old shoes, and maybe a little bit of neglect.

He could have fooled himself into thinking he’d walked into a bookstore. The walls were lined with books, the sofa and armchair in the corner creating a false sense of coziness—(‘false’ because nothing about this man said ‘cozy’). It had the air of being one of those spaces that is cluttered, but to call it anything but ‘neat’ would be an insult. Like a library of a devout scholar: cluttered with knowledge, yet, despite the fact that the shelves are puking pages, it all seems somehow perfectly in place.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Snape said in a tone that told him he didn’t want him to be comfortable at all. “Take care not to touch anything that isn’t yours.”

Tom’s eyes lidded. “So…don’t touch anything at all?”

“You’re catching on.” Snape smirked.

Tom rolled his eyes, not entirely sure Snape was joking.

“I’ll show you to your room.”

The words ‘your room’ were clipped, like the thought that it would belong to him for even a summer was repulsive. Though Tom could tell that before they arrived.

He opened a small door in the wall, which Tom would have thought another room, or perhaps a closet, but turned out to be a set of stairs.

After journeying up them, a hallway whose wood was in dire need of staining, dusty portraits whose stern eyes followed him as he walked by, and a decorative table with an empty vase upon it, greeted him.

The advertised room was small, and a bit stuffy, and a few of the floorboards creaked, but something told him he’d slept in worse conditions before.

Though it was a small house, they were able to keep to themselves. Snape was busy resettling into his house, and disinclined to give him a tour, and Tom, not having much to get settled in the first place, spent the time exploring his new surroundings.

He wandered around the library that was the downstairs, and the dingy hallways that were the upstairs. He took care not to enter what he assumed to be Snape’s room, as well as a few other locked rooms. He didn’t want to get on his bad side…if he even had a good side.

He quickly found he didn’t mind being around books. He had affinity for them, especially when their contents had to do with magic.

“Are these all about magic?” He asked Snape when he passed by.

“Some of them. It may surprise you to find most of them aren’t.”

“May I read them?” He asked, remembering Snape’s warning not to touch anything, as well as the fact that this was a ‘trial period.’

“If you cannot find ways to entertain yourself.”

“I’m sure I can. But you seem like the kind of man who appreciates silence.” He put his hands behind his back and smiled too pleasantly.

Snape pursed his lip.

They spent their time regarding each other as wolves encroaching on each others territories: they weren’t happy to be sharing the same space, but they couldn’t do anything but growl low until one of them made a move.

Later, when Snape made dinner, the action drew his attention from his book. Tom watched with fascination as Snape waved his wand with ease, and the ingredients floated and melded together of their own accord, like Snape’s wand knew what to say to them.

“Will I be able to do that?”

“A whole world of magic and you want to be able to make dinner?”

“Well—” Annoyance flared in Tom. “Of course I’d prefer to know much more exciting, dangerous things…but yes”

“Children are not allowed to use magic outside of school until they come of age…but, yes.”

The word ‘children’ in that condescending tone didn’t make him feel less annoyed.

“How come I’m able to do it, then? You’re able to teach me during the summer.”

“Dumbledore has his ways.”

Tom could tell he wouldn’t get any more information than that.

While they ate, Tom chanced a few more questions, and was surprised to find that it tasted quite good, and he thought he remembered someone once telling him good food does wonders for the soul.

He was glad to find that, despite Snape’s obvious distaste for him, and seemingly all things his age, he was cordial enough, and he certainly didn’t mind keeping to himself.

Tom was just thinking about asking when he’d start learning magic that evening, when a stack of books almost as tall as him landed on the table.

Flicking his eyes across the titles, he saw that each and every one of them something to do with magic.

“I expect you to have these read before before Potter arrives. Only then will I start teaching you magic.”

Tom leaned to the side to look at Snape and tried not to smirk.

“You sure this is everything? It doesn’t seem like quite enough.”

[myopinionhi]

Solangelo as LGBTQ Rep and Possible Issues

I do not represent the LGBT community because I’m sure a variety of LGBT fans would have various reactions to Solangelo. As a shy, bisexual person myself, I’ll speak only for myself.

I’ve noticed some people praising Solangelo for being positive LGBTQ rep and then others thinking it doesn’t deserve the praise. I can see both sides. 

I think Solangelo overall is positive LGBTQ representation. It’s not perfect. I’m glad Rick made Nico gay. However, Solangelo has one huge problem. It actually kind of suffers from a sort of harmful gay trope. The trope isn’t nearly harmful enough to take away Solangelo’s positive representation, but it’s there. I’ll elaborate more on it at the end of this essay.

Here are things I’m mostly not bothered with that others are regarding Nico and Will’s LGBT rep. 

1. Nico being outed by cupid. The infamous Cupid scene made me uncomfortable, and seeing Nico forced out of the closet hit too close to home. I could relate to a young teen struggling to accept the truth about himself. Some LGBTQ characters in media appear in an amazing LGBTQ utopia that pretends LGBTQ individuals don’t have issues with self-acceptance. Heroes of Olympus doesn’t sugarcoat Nico’s issues, because the struggle can be real for some LGBTQ individuals. Yes, Nico was forced out the closet. But he was mainly forced out of the closet to himself. It was supposed to be some sort of emotional release and self-awakening. If he stays in denial, more harm than good will come out of it. What Cupid did was cruel and was supposed to be cruel. I’d have an issue with the scene if Nico was forced out of the closet in front of a group of people, but since he was only forced out in front of Jason and then Jason respectfully keeps Nico’s secret and supports him, I actually don’t have an issue with it.

2. Nico and Will constantly argue. Nico and Will argue since Blood of Olympus. Will is aggressive with Nico. I’ve mentioned this before in a previous essay; Will has to be aggressive because Nico is on the verge of death. Nico is about to disappear into the shadows and hasn’t properly taken care of himself in a long time. After not seeing Nico in months, Will must have been devastated seeing the state of Nico’s health and seeing Nico being so stubborn and anti-social about it. Will’s anger is justified, and Nico needs that push to start being healthy after so long. Nico’s anti-social and self-depreciation also probably frustrated Will. Nico thought no one wanted to be his friend and is going to leave Camp, so Will has to be assertive to convince Nico he is wanted. 

Nico and Will’ s bickering in Lost Oracle is more affectionate bickering. They have very different personalities, so they’re going to disagree and let it be known. They have more harmless and playful disagreements. It’s actually more cute, if anything. 

The only real issue I have with their arguments is in Blood of Olympus when Will snaps at Nico by claiming “Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away.” and “You pushed yourself away. If you’d get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once...”  The harmful implication of this statement is the dismissal of Nico’s real experiences of rejection and that if he’d just stop brooding he’d be happy. The implications are....unfortunate. Don’t get me wrong. Will likely lost his patience with Nico’s stubbornness after hearing Nico say he’s leaving Camp, likely never coming back. I understand Will’s devastation, especially since he wants to be Nico’s friend and knows others who do too.

 The statement isn’t problematic because Will simply said it. It’s a human to say hurtful things. Will is an exhausted teen who’s on the verge of losing Nico. The real problem is the book doesn’t acknowledge Will’s statement as harmful. Will doesn’t apologize or acknowledge how he was wrong. Will says it and then Nico suddenly agrees to stay at Camp, implying Nico’s isolation was brought completely on himself. Hypothetically, if Will acknowledges his mistakes later, like in Tower of Nero, then this unfortunate line is more forgivable. 

3. Nico has barely accepted himself. He’s not ready for a boyfriend. I’d accept this argument if Will and Nico started dating at the end of Blood of Olympus. Fortunately, they don’t. Nico doesn’t even acknowledge having feelings for Will to himself. It’s only implied. I find the many fanfictions having Will and Nico dating after Nico stays at the infirmary for three days unrealistic and rushed. But not this. Will and Nico aren’t a confirmed couple until Hidden Oracle, which happens months after Blood of Olympus. If Nico gets emotional healing and bonds with Will for months, it’s not unreasonable for them to be dating. Even their official relationship in Hidden Oracle seems pretty casual and low stress.

4. Will has Nico on a short leash. No Will doesn’t. After Blood of Olympus, when Will tries to save Nico’s life, Will isn’t controlling. He may tell Nico to be nicer or would bicker, but nothing  too overbearing. Will teases Nico for not calling him his boyfriend and doesn’t get angry when Nico shadow-travels in Hidden Oracle. Nico seems to want to be around Will on his own accord. He enjoys being around Will, hence the doctor’s note. 

5. Will “fixed” Nico and/or Nico became too dependent on Will. No, the reason Nico is happier in Hidden Oracle is because he has learned to accept himself and he has family and friends supporting him. Some of the most important loved ones for Nico include Hazel, Reyna, Jason, and the rest of the Seven. Blood of Olympus gives more focus and development to Reyna and Nico’s relationship than Nico and Will’s relationship. Will is the straw that broke the camels back, but it’s the accumulation of impactful events and support that gets Nico to happiness. Will helped, especially with Nico’s physical health. When Nico decides to stay at Camp Half-Blood, it’s likely he sees his home in Camp Half-Blood than Camp Jupiter. Bianca trusted Camp Half-Blood to take care of Nico. Nico and Will’s relationship did grow after Blood of Olympus, and Will’s support helps Nico, but there’s no indication of Will be Nico’s “fixer”. He’s just Nico’s friend and boyfriend.

Here’s an interesting argument I’ve been pondering.

Will can’t be both Nico’s doctor and his boyfriend. This argument interests me because if Will had a crush on Nico during Blood of Olympus, he maybe shouldn’t treat Nico as a patient. I’ve seen too many creepy fanfictions of Will using his authority as Nico’s doctor to get closer to Nico. However, Will likely is also the one who knows what’s best for Nico’s health. He’s a better healer even than Apollo. He may also be the only one who knows how save Nico from fading into the shadows in Blood of Olympus since Nico’s powers are unusual. Will’s emotional investment in Nico interferes with objectivity. Then again, Will may be emotionally invested with many people in Camp-Halfblood as well, and Will is the one with the best healing. Will’s doctor’s note for Nico to sit at the Apollo table does touch upon Will’s professional conflict of interest with Nico. It’s possible Will can keep it completely professional as Nico’s doctor since he’s a natural-born healer, but it’s relying on the good-faith of a teenager. 

It seems unfair to deprive Nico of the best medical care because Will is his boyfriend. Especially during the winter, it’s possible Kayla’s and Austin’s healing abilities are very inferior to Will’s. At the same time though, there’s conflicts of interest when Will has Nico as his patient. 

Here’s one issue I have in regards to Nico’s crush on Percy.

We don’t know how Nico gets over his crush on Percy. We’re never shown Nico’s POV until Blood of Olympus, so it’s very possible Nico goes through some self-realization after the Cupid scene. I find Nico’s dropped crush on Percy disappointing. I would have liked to see Nico admit there’s still some lingering, painful feelings towards Percy for a little while during Blood of Olympus. It would have been interesting seeing Nico accept the heartbreak and move on. Percy was Nico’s first love and someone who Nico invested in for years. House of Hades seems to imply there is still some lingering feelings, but then it’s dropped in Blood of Olympus, and Nico says to Percy “you’re not my type.” It’s lazy writing. It’s like Rick made Nico gay for Percy for that gay angst but then didn’t feel like following through. Nico’s crush on Percy affected Nico for years. How is it dropped within two books?!

The main issue I have with Solangelo

Their romance and relationship is hidden. Okay, if Will didn’t call Nico his boyfriend and Apollo didn’t gush over their relationship in Hidden Oracle, we wouldn’t know they’re in a romantic relationship. All their actions are completely platonic. I get that Nico’s probably not into PDA. I get romantic pet names may be too embarrassing for Nico. I get they may not want to flaunt their relationship. I get they may not want to hold hands. I get they’d want to keep their relationship private. I get they’re young. I get Nico doesn’t like being touched. I get Trials of Apollo is only from Apollo’s POV. That’s not the issue. 

What actions do they have that imply they’re boyfriends instead of friends? The most affectionate they’ve gotten is Nico resting his hand on Will’s shoulder, Will casually leaning on Nico before the three-legged race, or Nico grabbing Will’s hand once to shadow-travel to the chariot. There’s not really any tiny romantic actions. There’s no clear romantic flirting, loving gazes, hand squeezes, hugs, legs touching, footsies, kisses on the head, or hugs. Only a couple of these small romantic actions are all that’s necessary. Nico and Will don’t have to go as far as kissing and cuddling. The relationship gets brownie points for using the label "boyfriend”, but then homophobes don’t have to be squeamish about two guys getting even a tiny bit of romantic affection. It’s too easy to censor the explicit gayness of their relationship because there’s not much to possibly censor. 

Their absent romantic affection is only half of it though. Another major problem is Solangelo is only in two books. Even when they’re in those two books, their relationship doesn’t get a lot of scenes. In Blood of Olympus, Will and Nico work together and bicker during the battle against Gaia. It’s heartwarming, but they don’t even meet up until more than halfway into the book. In Hidden Oracle, Nico and Will are only in a handful of scenes, and many of these moments are brief. When Will and Nico are shown, they have chemistry. They clearly care and support each other. But this groundbreaking relationship of theirs doesn’t have much. Will is the son of Apollo, and, not including Tower of Nero for now, only appears in Hidden Oracle during Trials of Apollo. Why does Will Solace only appear in 1 (2 including Tower of Nero) books in Trials of Apollo even though his dad is the main character? We don’t know. He could be strong LGBTQ rep with a boyfriend, but....nope. 

The same-sex ships get tiny crumbs, and then you’ve got all these straight ships shown and developed in more than two or three books. I’m worried Solangelo is falling under the “But Not Too Gay” trope, where an author wants a gay couple for representation credit, but then won’t give them the same appreciation as straight couples.  

Don’t get me wrong. I’d much rather have Nico be gay, and I’d much rather have Solangelo be a couple. I think their relationship is wholesome, and what’s shown of them has positive representation. I don’t find Nico’s LGBTQ representation too problematic. It’s just sort of....missing something important that could make it really positive. For what it’s worth, I appreciate the Solangelo crumbs, and it meant a lot to me growing up. 

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

Not Broken pt 13 (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Not Broken Masterlist

Jaehyun X Reader

Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?

Reasons to read this story: Ten’s a cross-dressing madam so….. yeah read it ya freaks.

Trigger warning: mentions of abuse

<><><><>Several hours before Y/N was called to Jaehyun’s office<><><><><>

“What’s so important to discuss that a member of the council decided to visit me personally?” Jaehyun asked in a disinterested tone as he poured two glasses of brandy for him and his guest, sealing the decanter once he had finished.

“A member of the council? I know that it’s best to keep an air of formality when in the presence of council members but given that it’s just the two of us, do call me Uncle, won’t you?” The older man requested, accepting the drink as it was handed to him.

Jaehyun moved to sit at his desk while Suho remained standing at the vintage drum table which the decanter rested on.  

“Why are you here?” He requested, setting his drink directly onto the cherrywood’s finish.

Suho’s eyes wandered around the room, feigning confusion towards his nephew’s inquiry.  

A soft sigh of frustration left the younger man’s lungs.

“Why are you here, Uncle?”  

A sly smile crept onto Suho’s face only for a contemplative expression to succeed it.  

The man began to swirl the amber liquid within its glass shell taking his time to notice how it coated the crystal walls for a fleeting instant before returning to a stagnant state.  

Jaehyun, whose patience usually would have been wearing thin at this point, allowed the man his thoughts as he began to observe his liquor as well.  

Suho was a member of Exo’s council, an alliance organization, of which Jaehyun’s father had also been a member. Exo could be characterized as a network of gangs or a grandfather gang, so to speak. It served as both an alliance and an enforcer, allowing associated organizations a considerable degree of protection against rival gangs. Several gangs in Seoul were affiliates of Exo, including NCT and all its current subgroups, Shinee, Super Junior, TVXQ, Red Velvet, BlackPink and many others. Although Exo was arguable the largest and most powerful gang alliance in Seoul, it wasn’t the only one. Got7 for instance, arguably NCT’s biggest rival gang was under the protection of JYP, an elusive organization that had begun growing exponentially over the past several years.

Although Exo’s membership technically extended to any and all members of its associated gangs, it’s only the Exo’s council members who hold any real power. Joining Exo forces leaders to relinquish many of their decision-making freedoms in exchange for protection, meaning that the council now had final say on important decisions involving their gangs.  

The council itself was made up of a select few individuals, each holding remarkable influence over the innerworkings of Seoul’s mob scene. Jaehyun was familiar with each of the council members for his father had been a member of the council since its creation, as had Suho.  

The two had been friends since they met in Juvie as teens, NCT was the fruit of that friendship. They started out preforming simple bank robberies, then quickly grew into a full-fledged gang eventually forming subdivisions meant to expand their territories. Sooman was NCT’s official leader and Suho was his right-hand man. They created Exo after forming an alliance with Super Junior and Shinee’s former leaders.

Not all council members were experienced crime lords. A handful of them were better described as investors, such as Sehun, who made billions investing in the drug trade. Becoming a member of the council was almost impossible, as members served lifetime appointments and a strict selective process was employed to take their places when they died. Those selected were never informed of their selection until after they were appointed to prevent any violence being committed against council members in the hopes of gaining a position.  

Jaehyun held great disdain for the process since every time a member died, he would be replaced by yet another old geezer who would continue to uphold the council’s outdated and traditional values.  

To Jaehyun, the council was nothing more than just another source of irritation. When his father died unexpectedly, the several members of the council opposed him, Jaehyun, from taking over his father’s position at such a young age despite SM and Suho having been even younger than he was when they formed NCT. Their official objections only ceased when Suho vowed to watch over the young man, although they continued to express their disapproval whenever the subject was brought up. Being the son of SM, one of the council’s original members gave Jaehyun a privilege that many of the other leaders did not have. He often got away with challenging the council with only a lecture for punishment whereas anyone else would risk forfeiting their gang’s Exo membership altogether.  

Jaehyun’s status didn’t spare him from any of the council’s scrutiny though, if anything, it was magnified.  

Out of all Exo’s affiliated gangs, NCT was the most powerful, meaning that if Jaehyun messed up in any way, the losses could be detrimental.  

Jaehyun had been called to face the council more than anyone else making him feel like their sole purpose was to piss him off. After the death of IU, the council began making what he viewed as unreasonable demands in order to protect NCT’s image.  

He had instructed Taeyong to send regular updates to the council regarding their captive and once Taeyong confirmed with them that not only had they proven Y/N irresponsible for IU’s death, but that she had actually killed the man who was, Jaehyun knew that it’d be a matter of time before he would be summoned once again. Jaehyun ignored the councils request to meet with them and thus Suho was sent as a representative in their absence.

“Are you sure that the girl is responsible for Lucas’s death?”  

Jaehyun returned his focus to the gentleman who had wandered over to one of the bookshelves. He used his free hand to graze the bindings of each of the collected works as if he were looking for something in particular.

“If you came only to confirm the information that was sent to you, then you’ve wasted a trip.”

Suho sighed, removing his hand from the bookshelf.

“I hope you’re aware of how this could make us look.”

Suho turned towards Jaehyun taking his time to meet him at his desk before sitting in the brown leather chair that mirrored his nephew’s.  

“Lucas having been killed by someone outside of NCT and all,” He finished, taking a sip from the crystal tumbler.

Jaehyun quirked an eyebrow.  

“What do you mean?”

Suho set his drink on a nearby coaster and proceeded to lift his leg, crossing his foot over his thigh, before leaning back in his chair.

“Think about it from a rival gang’s point of view. A year into his new position, a position given to him at what many considered too young of an age, the leader of NCT’s sister ends up being kidnapped and murdered by Wayv, a gang made up of former NCT members. Not only that, but three years later, NCT has still been unable find the man responsible,” He recounted, staring off into the room.

“That’s because he was dead this whole time. How the fuck were we supposed to know he was dead? You can’t find a guy who can’t be found,” Jaehyun reminded defensively.

“You of all people should know that image matters far more than truth. Remember how the council basically scrambled to protect NCT’s image? How we kept the truth about IU’s death under wraps so that to outsiders her death would have seemed like an accident? How none of us had even a second to mourn her loss as we were all too busy trying to do damage control?”  

Jaehyun didn’t respond.

“IU’s death was tragic. You know this, but you also realized the importance of minimizing its effect on NCT which is why as SM’s successor, you pushed through the pain to protect those of who were still alive, your members. We knew that presenting her death as an accident wouldn’t work long term, but the council hoped that it would buy you time while you searched for Wayv but now....”  

Suho’s eyes met Jaehyun’s as he stressed the seriousness of the situation.  

“Now that Wayv knows you have Lucas’s killer, they’re going to start forming connections, building alliances with other gangs, anything it takes to get to her. Word will get out that it was actually Wayv who were responsible for IU’s death and that the man who organized it wasn’t killed by NCT, but on accident by a mere burlesque dancer. NCT won’t just be seen as weak, it’ll become the laughingstock of Seoul.”  

“But, Uncle, Wayv must not want word getting out about Lucas’s death either. Why else would they have covered up his death and continued on as though he were still running everything?”

“That is true. It’s safe to say that before recent events, Wayv didn’t want the nature of their leader’s death reaching their rival gangs which is probably why they didn’t expose us when we buried the truth about IU’s death. They would have wanted to avoid suspicion at all costs. Even now, I’m sure that Wayv would prefer to keep this information to themselves especially after learning that Lucas was killed by someone with Y/N’s background.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Jaehyun asked, feeling uneasy about where his uncle was leading.

“The problem is that even if Wayv doesn’t want details regarding Lucas’s death reaching the public, their image won’t be hit as hard as NCT’s will, and it stands to reason that they’d be more than willing to cut off a few of their fingers if it meant NCT would lose its limbs.”

“What do you mean it would hit us harder? We’re not the ones whose leader was killed by a goddamn stripper!” Jaehyun boomed.  

“Yes, you’re right. He was killed and that’s exactly why they aren’t facing the same level of risk NCT is. Lucas was killed, making him Wayv’s former leader. He no longer represents them and thus whatever happened to him has very little effect on their image now. If anything, his death will actually strengthen Wayv’s image since after Lucas died, his successor somehow managed to keep his death a secret for almost three years. It takes a lot to hide something as big as the death of a prolific mob boss. If even one person were to squeal, the entire city would know within a matter of days and yet we’re only learning about it now, three years later. Wayv can only benefit from all this, You, on the other hand, will be seen as weak, incompetent, and a disgrace to your father’s legacy,” The older man explained.

“And that’s a shame because you’re not, Jaehyun. Your father would be proud to know how far you’ve come despite those whose doubt you,” He added.  

“That man never approved of anything I did when he was alive. I don’t know why he’d start in his death,” Jaehyun sneered.  

His face had fallen from its angered state, yet an air of bitterness seemed to linger in his features. Suho could only sigh at his nephew’s hardheadedness which had surely been passed down to him by his father.

“The council wants to replace you.”

“Oh yeah? And how do they plan on going through with those plans?” Jaehyun scoffed.

Suho gave his nephew a softhearted look.

“They don’t. You and I both know how capable the council is when forcing their agenda regardless of the leaders who oppose them, but I convinced them to hold off on their plans just until you’ve had a chance to resolve the issue on your own.”

Jaehyun leaned back in his chair as he pondered his uncle’s remarks. It was true that the council was more than capable of replacing him as leader even if his men continued being loyal to him. Exo wouldn’t just threaten to withdraw their protections over NCT, they would find a way to completely dismantle NCT, rebuilding it in their ideal image. Exo had more than enough funds to obtain whatever resources needed to preserve control of their affiliates. The only thing he could do, was roll over and hope they wouldn’t tighten his leash any further. He had to act.

“What should I do?” Jaehyun asked, finally letting his guard down.

“You need to get on top of this. Find a way to ease the council’s anxieties.”  

“And how exactly do you suppose I do that?”

Suho lifted his drink from its coaster, bringing it to his lips and finishing it in two large sips. He returned the glass to the desk, causing it to make a soft thumping sound as it contacted the wood.

“Have you thought about the council’s suggestion from before all this began, about taking a wife?”

“Oh, not this again,” Jaehyun groaned.

“Look, the council is worried. They don’t think you hold the same values your father did. To them, you’re a firecracker just waiting to go off. It makes them antsy. Marriage will show the council that you hold traditional values and are not the irresponsible rebel they think you are.”

“Marriage will do all that?” Jaehyun laughed, obviously not taking his uncles advice seriously.

“You were so insistent on being able to choose your own wife and rejected any thoughts of allowing the council to make any arrangements for you, which pissed off a lot of people. Taking one of the councilmen’s daughters or nieces as a wife would have shown commitment to your role as SM’s successor. Your refusal shows a lack of respect and makes them question how much power they should allow you when you continue to make them feel uneasy about the future. Your parent’s marriage was arranged. It really isn’t that big of a deal. Have you at least started considering any possible applicants?”

“I haven’t exactly had any time to mingle given how I’ve been busy trying to find the men responsible for my sister’s death and all.” Jaehyun reminded his uncle in a tone drenched with sarcasm.  

“Hmmm, well I guess that’s probably a good thing considering the circumstances,” Suho mused quietly.

“Excuse me?” Jaehyun leaned forward so that his forearms rested on the desk.  

Suho returned his focus to his nephew whose curious features urged him to go on.  

“The girl, take her as your wife.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jaehyun gawked, unable to believe what his uncle was saying.

“Marry her. That’s the only way you can turn this around. If word gets out that NCT’s leader got married to the girl responsible for Lucas’ death, they’ll assume that his death wasn’t actually an accident but was all a part of your plan. Even if people don’t come to that conclusion, which I don’t see why they wouldn’t, marrying her will prevent all of the damage that she’d cause us if you let her go. How I see it, you have two options. You could let her go get captured by Wayv, which you do not want, and let everyone view NCT as weak for not being able to kill the man who murdered their leader’s sister, which you definitely don’t want, or you can marry the girl and kill three birds with one stone. She’ll be safe from Wayv, NCT’s image will be as strong as ever, and the council will view you as a trustworthy leader who shares their same values.”

Jaehyun scoffed in amazement, unsure of what he could possibly say to respond to such an outrageous proposal.  

Were these just the crazy ramblings of a man entering the stages of early onset dementia or was his uncle actually onto something?

“I mean, it’s not a bad deal. She is a very attractive young woman. I’m not sure you could do much better, even if you were to marry one of the councilman’s daughters,” Suho smirked.

Jaehyun glanced at his half empty glass, reaching towards it to take a sip.  

His uncle was right. Despite the bitter taste that the idea of marrying a burlesque dancer left in his mouth, she was more beautiful than any of the councilmen’s daughters. He couldn’t brush off the fact that marriage could very well be enough to stop them from interfering in his business as much as they did. Although the council members would probably prefer it if he didn’t marry a foreigner, perhaps marrying an American would grant him a bit of status. When he thought about the possibility of marriage before, he believed that he would be happy as long as the girl was beautiful and didn’t speak up too much or challenge him. That’d be the perfect arrangement, yet he didn’t see Y/N as the obedient type.

“Ok, wait a second. Suppose I were to commit to such a plan, how would I get her to accept my proposal? We didn’t exactly get off to a great start, so I doubt she’d agree,” Jaehyun asked, beginning to entertain the idea.  

“Present it as though she doesn’t have a choice,” He advised.  

Jaehyun shifted his weight off the desk and leaned back against his chair, taking a moment to process the suggestion.

“Even if I didn’t give her a choice, I’m sure she’d find ways to be as bothersome as she could. Dealing with her rebellious moods might be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Well, finding a way to ensure her compliance shouldn’t be too hard, should it?” Suho hinted with a smile.

The younger man hummed, as he contemplated what his next actions might require.  

“No, it should not.”

<><><><><>

“Does everyone understand?”  

The members of NCT 127 stared at their boss, astonished by the sudden announcement. None of them knew what to say so many of them merely nodded, pretending as though they understood the situation.  

After Suho left, Jaehyun called Taeyong into his office to inform him of his intentions to marry Y/N. Taeyong was understandably shocked by his boss’s unsettling plans. To him, it didn’t make any sense to marry a girl who was rightfully terrified of him even if it was in the best interest for NCT. He tried to talk him out of it knowing full well that Jaehyun doesn’t just get talked out of things. After Jaehyun revealed that there were discussions of replacing him among the council and that Suho, himself, recommended the marriage, Taeyong conceded to his boss’s orders and called a meeting in the billiards room.  

“You are all dismissed then. Except for you two,” Jaehyun motioned towards two of his men before turning to Taeyong.

“Bring Y/N to my office when she is done eating. I need to have a discussion with these two first,” Jaehyun instructed his right-hand man.  

<><><><><>

“Have a seat.”

Winwin and Johnny sat in the chairs that were placed directly across from their boss.  

Jaehyun took his time studying his raven-haired colleague whilst almost completely overlooking the gentleman who sat beside him.  

“What do you think about what was discussed at the meeting, Winwin?” Jaehyun asked, taking care to analyze his reaction.

Winwin, who had been glaring at this boss up to this point, let out a dry laugh and shook his head to show his irritation.

“What are you trying to do here?” He demanded.

Jaehyun laughed in amusement.  

“What do you mean? I just asked for your thoughts.”

Winwin rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I couldn’t care less what you do with the girl. It’s just business, right? Or did you think I’d be against it since marrying her is all a part of your ploy to win against Wayv?”  

All traces of amusement were now gone from the Jaehyun’s face as he turned to Johnny.

“You’ve been keeping an eye on him all this time, right? Nothing suspicious?”

The man nodded in response.

“What about when you two were separated?”

“The only time we weren’t together was when one of us was using the bathroom, but like you instructed, I searched him for  any electronic devices before he entered the bathroom and had Taeil watch over him when I wasn’t able to.”

Jaehyun leaned back in his chair, staring behind the two men. He still didn’t trust Winwin but he couldn’t keep him on watch without there being any new evidence against him. Doing so would lead the others to believe he was making decisions based on his emotions instead of what he thought was best for NCT.  

His thoughts were interrupted when a soft knock came from the other side of his office door.

“Johnny, you will no longer be required to watch over Winwin. Winwin, you are free to interact with whomever you feel inclined, but I will be keeping my eye on you. You are both free to go.”

He watched as the two men exited out the door, catching a glimpse of them stopping to greet whom he presumed to be Taeyong and the girl.

After taking a moment to mentally prepare himself for what was about to come, he called out to them.

“You may enter now.”

Y/N was the first to enter while Taeyong held the door open for her. Jaehyun took note of what she was wearing, faded black jeans and an off-white shirt. It made him wonder why she wanted to wear something of such a low quality, when she could have worn what was prepared for her, but then he remembered what Jaemin had said about her not wanting anything he had to offer her.

Y/N made no effort to hide her avoidance of his gaze. Once she sat down in the chair Winwin had previously been seated in, Jaehyun dismissed Taeyong.  

It was just the two of them now.  

He silently stared at her frightened figure which seemed to shrink further and further into the brown leather chair. He noticed her bruises. They had almost completely vanished from her face and only small patches of discoloration remained.  

He hadn’t forgotten how beautiful she was the night of the performance, though he couldn’t help but observe how much more ethereal she looked than that night before everything went down. Sure, her wounds hadn’t completely healed, and her appearance revealed a tinge of dishevelment, but her flashy costume and makeup from the night of her performance only seemed to distract from her natural visage.  

“Y/N?”  

She looked up at him, finally allowing their eyes to meet and for a split second, Jaehyun forgot why he had called her into his office in the first place. It was only after he noticed her shaky breaths that he was reminded of what he was to say.  

“It has been decided that you and I will get married this month.”

<><><><><>

I was the type of person whose mind went blank whenever she heard something she didn’t want to believe was true. I felt as though I could turn any unwanted reality into a dream I could wake up from as long as I didn’t think about it, or anything else for that matter. If I allowed myself to process the situation, it would be like thinking it into existence. I didn’t know why this was my first instinct. It never changed anything. It only allowed for me to live in denial a moment longer. That was how I reacted to my parent’s death, and to my brother’s betrayal, but those weren’t dreams or even nightmares. I had to accept them for what they truly were. My reality.

Even now, I wanted nothing more than to fall back into that familiar state of disassociation. If there was ever a time to mistake my reality for a delusion conjured up by my unconscious mind, this was it. It was all so bizarre; too preposterous to be real. My rationality was evaporating, and my vision blurring.  

I bit down on the inside of my cheeks, determined to find some sort of grounding. I focused on the metallic flavor that began to coat my tongue. I continued to stare at the man that had found yet another way to afflict me, this time with words instead of fists. I wanted so desperately to snap out of it, yet I didn’t know how. I could feel myself falling deeper and deeper into nihility when a memory of the Madam entered my mind.  

“Those who believe that heaven and hell are opposites of each other are cursed to only experience one at a time. They say you gotta go through hell to get out of it but why not learn to love the heat?”

That was her go-to toast when having drinks with the performers. Why I had thought of that speech, I didn’t know. Maybe my mind was just trying to find a memory to latch onto hoping it would stop me from falling into oblivion. I used the memory as a chance to break my gaze from his. My eyes moved to see the glass of brandy that rested on the desk near his hands.  

I instinctively reached out toward the glass earning a wide-eyed stare from its owner. Without thinking I dipped my fingers inside the glass and scooped out the ice cube that was floating just below the amber liquid’s surface. The ice cube dropped to the floor and I bought the glass to my lips, quickly draining it of its contents. The familiar burn that traveled down my throat managed to return my soul to my body. From how many gulps it took to finish, it must have been a double, not nearly enough to get me drunk, but hopefully enough for the liquid courage to do its job once the adrenaline started to fade.  

I slammed the empty glass down on the desk and stared into the eyes of my captor.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

<><><><>

Jaehyun’s shocked expression disappeared and he began to laugh.  

“That’s what I get for not offering you a drink, I presume.”

My gaze became venomous, calling attention to the severity of the situation.  

Jaehyun noticed this and returned to his humorless disposition.

“You and I will be married this month,” He repeated.  

“You must have lost your mind. You and I? Married?” I scoffed.

“As the leader of NCT, I am required to take a wife for reasons of status. It has been decided that you will be that wife.”

“So? I’m sure there are tons of other women you could marry, why me?” I demanded.

“It has come to my attention that your involvement in Lucas’s death poses a threat to our organization’s image. Seeing as how you were the one to kill him and not one of my men, it’s likely that this could send a serious blow to us. That is, if it gets out that the man responsible for my sister’s death was killed by a mere... dancer,” He divulged, a speck of distaste coated his voice as he uttered the last two syllables.

“You’re crazy. You’re telling me you wanna marry me? How did you find the nerve? And while I still have bruises and a cracked rib that you gave me,” I spat.

I was seething in anger.

“This isn’t a matter of what I want or don’t want. This marriage, along with the wedding itself, will only be for the sake of appearances. If it were my choice, you wouldn’t even be here, but now that Wayv wants you, it’s in my best interest to keep you here, no matter what it takes.”

“You said I was free to leave whenever I wanted!”  

“Well I guess I changed my mind,” He declared using a dismissive tone.

“No, I won’t. I won’t do it.” I stood up, hands gripping the edge of the desk.  

“You don’t really have a choice now do you, Kitten?”

“This is insane. What on earth makes you think that I would willingly marry you? If you’re really just doing this for appearances, then... then I’ll do everything I can to show everyone just how unwilling I am. I’ll act out. I’ll... I’ll-”

“You will do nothing of the sort.” Jaehyun bellowed in a voice, almost intimidating enough to scare me into backing down... almost.

“What are you going to do, kill me?” I challenged.

Jaehyun stood up, allowing his oppressive height to add to his threatening demeanor.  

“You will do as I say whether that is going through with the wedding or anything else for that matter. You will behave from now on because if you don’t, it’s your friend who will pay the price.”

Extinguished by his menacing implication, the fire that ran through my veins was nowhere to be found.  

“W-what are-”

“Remember how you asked me to check on your friend from the other night? Wendy, was it? Well I had my men check the local hospital’s records from that night. It turns out that they treated three patients from the burlesque club the night of your performance and that included your friend. Somehow, she sustained the worst injury of all having received a bullet to the chest. Luckily for her, the bullet missed her heart and was easily removed through the surgery I paid for. She was released from the hospital yesterday.”

“Wendy’s alive?”  

I fell back into the chair, unable to believe how I had forgotten all about my friend these past few days. With everything that had been going on, I hadn’t thought of her since I made the request in the first place.

“She’s alive and will likely go on to live a full and meaningful life especially after having been granted 20 million won to study at the university of her choice... as long as you do what I say.”

I did my best to fight back the tears that were already beginning to stream down my face completely unaware that Jaehyun’s anger had turned into discomfort.

I gave up trying to hold back my tears and brought my hands to my face. After sensing a nearby presence, I removed them to see that Jaehyun had also returned to a sitting position and was offering me a royal blue handkerchief. I stared at him, confused by the gesture.  

“I didn’t want for things to turn out this way either. I understand why you’re upset and I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you because of me. Think of our marriage as an arrangement. Being my wife will offer you a degree of status and wealth, not to mention protection from Wayv. You’ll have to act as my wife at social events, but besides that, you’ll be free to do as you wish without any disruptions from me.” He explained looking away.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?! I’d rather you keep me locked up in that room for the rest of my life than spend one minute married to you!” I shouted, ignoring the handkerchief.

The neatly folded handkerchief was now wrinkled by the harsh grip that held it. The anger had returned to his face.

“Fine! If that’s how you’re going to be then who am I to deny you your wishes? Stay in your room and rot for all I care,” He roared.  

Taeyong quickly entered the room.

“Get her out of my sight and don’t let her out of her room until I say so,” He ordered, abruptly standing up from his desk and knocking over several items in the process.  

Taeyong escorted me back to my room. The only time he said anything was to tell me that he’d try to calm Jaehyun down and that I should probably stay in my room until he’d given me the go ahead.  

I spent the remainder of the night crying. Crying for Wendy, all the things she went through because of me and for the others who got hurt that night. I mostly cried for myself though. My worst nightmare had come true. I was going to have to marry Jung Jaehyun, the leader of Seoul’s most notorious gang, NCT.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

I woke up to the sun shining through my window, something I wasn’t used to, given my early morning training sessions.

It still seemed pretty early though.

I rolled over to look at the clock but saw a note on the vanity table along with a glass of water instead.  

I grabbed the water first, glad to have something to drink as my head was pounding.  

I picked up and read the note while sitting up against the bedframe.  

Y/N,

I talked to Jaehyun. He is sorry and you are free to move around the building unescorted. I asked Jeno to allow you the morning off from training.  

-Taeyong

Memories of the day before came flooding back all at once. It really did feel like I was hungover, but not from drinking too much.

I had no idea how Taeyong managed to get Jaehyun to ease up on me, although he must have since I was now able to leave. I doubted that Jaehyun was actually sorry though. Taeyong probably added that in just to give me some sort of relief.  

I heard noises in the hallway. It was a loud rustling noise. I got up from the bed to investigate. Creaking the door open slightly, I noticed that I really was unguarded. I peeked into the halls seeing nothing but closed doors.  

My curiosity got the better of me causing me to follow the noise until I was standing in front of a closed door. I could hear two people talking, but not very clearly. It sounded like they were having an argument.  

I pressed my ear to the door.  

“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal. It’s not like we can act all lovey-dovey around the other members anyways,” Said one of voices.  

“That’s not the problem. The problem is that you can’t even tell them we’re dating. It’s like you are ashamed of me or something,” The other voiced whined.

My eyes widened in shock. Was this Jeno and Jaemin on the other side?

I focused on the voices. They both sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place who they belonged to. Luckily, I didn’t have to.

“Mark, I’m serious. If you can’t open up about us to your friends, then we can’t do this anymore.”

Mark?

If that’s Mark, then who’s-

The door opened causing me to stumble back and fall on the floor.

“Haechan, wait!”  

I looked up to see who had unintentionally knocked me over but was met with someone I would have never guessed.

“Donghyuck?”

“Y/N?”

“Haechan, what’s-” Mark came out from behind him before looking down at me.

“Y/N?”

I looked up at Donghyuck.

“Haechan? Wait but you’re Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck?” Mark quirked.  

Haechan facepalmed.  

“What the fuck is going on?” I demanded.  

Mark looked at me, then back at Donghyuck then down at his hands that seemed to be working him through some sort of calculation.  

“If you know Y/N, and she recognized you but called you Donghyuck instead of Haechan, then... oh.”

<><><><><><><><><><><>

After our run-in upstairs, Donghyuck and Mark told me to wait outside their room while they called Taeyong. He had arrived shortly after and was ushered into the room with them. I stood there outside the room silently. I didn’t even try to eavesdrop for I was worried I wouldn't like what they were saying. As soon as the door opened, Donghyuck practically lunged at me, grabbing my shoulders so I would face him.  

“Holy fuck, Y/N. What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?” he exclaimed before pulling me into his embrace.

The three of them brought me down to the kitchen where we ran into Jeno, Jaemin, Yuta, and Doyoung, who all seemed to be getting ready for breakfast. Taeyong sat me at the table with Mark and asked everyone else in the kitchen to step out for a moment so he could talk to them. I tried asking Mark what was going on and why Donghyuck was here and why he was calling him Haechan but he only told me that I would find out soon enough. After what was most definitely more than just a moment, everyone returned to the kitchen except Taeyong and Donghyuck. When I asked where they were, Yuta simply responded with, “They need to talk to the boss.”

Jaemin and Jeno tried to lighten up the mood but to no avail. Jeno asked me how I was enjoying my day off from training while Jaemin set the table up for breakfast. Nobody spoke a word about the Haechan/Donghyuck situation or even mentioned the other elephant in the room. To be honest, I didn’t know whether to be grateful for not having to discuss the details regarding my recent engagement, or if it merely added to my anxieties.

The two of them finally returned after we had been eating, or more like absentmindedly playing with our breakfast, for over 20 minutes.  

As they sat down at the table, I noticed that Donghyuck’s eyes were glued to me. He looked pained, like a boy watching his pet cat run into a busy highway, knowing he couldn’t do anything to help the poor creature.

“Jaehyun is busy right now but he’s been filled in and has given me instructions on how to handle the matter,” Taeyong began.  

I felt myself relax a little after hearing Taeyong’s words. I felt relief knowing that I wouldn’t have to deal with seeing Jaehyun on top of everything else that was going on.

“It’s come to my attention that you and Hae-” Taeyong hesitated, not exactly knowing how to explain what he was trying to explain.  

“that you and Haechan, or Donghyuck as you know him as, are already well acquainted with each other.”

Taeyong paused waiting for my reaction but given that I was too confused to even know where to start, I stayed quiet.

“Maybe I should just let Haechan do the talking. He’s been caught up on your situation, so he can catch you up on his.”  

Everyone at the table turned to Donghyuck while he continued to stare back at me.  

A soft sigh left Donghyuck’s mouth as he broke my gaze to look down at the table.  

“Y/N, I’m a member of-”

“You’re a member of NCT?!” I blurted out.  

A small smile crept onto his face and a forced version of his laughter entered my ears.

“Surprise?”  

Everyone at the table stared at each other. It was agonizingly uncomfortable.

“I need a shot. Does anybody else need a shot?” Haechan awkwardly got up and walked over to the main part of the kitchen.

“Haechan, it’s 9:20. Nobody needs a sho-” Taeyong began.

“I would like a shot,” I announced, hand suddenly raised above my head.

“Thatta girl. Glad to see this place didn’t snuff out your party girl spirit. Jeno, where do you keep the booze in this place?”  

Haechan began opening the cabinet drawers as he continued his search for anything that would make the situation less uncomfortable than it was.

“There’s a bottle of cooking merlot in the upper left-hand cabinet above the main oven,” Jeno offered.

Haechan opened the cabinet and pulled the bottle out.  

“It’s not quite what I was hoping for, but I supposed it’ll do the trick.”

Haechan hurried to open the bottle, almost knocking it over in the process. Once the corked was freed from its enclosure, Haechan swiftly wrapped his lips around the bottle’s opening and started chugging. He held the bottle in its now tilted position for ten solid seconds before lowering it back onto the counter.

“That should do it,” He muttered, out of breath before grabbing the bottle by its neck and bringing it over to the table. As he handed me the bottle, I couldn’t help but notice that a measurable amount of the red liquid had disappeared from the bottle, not that it mattered. There was still more than enough wine left to get me through the next few hours.

I began to chug the liquid in the same manner that Haechan had, unaware of the impressed and/or concerned faces that surrounded me.  

The bottle couldn’t have been more than halfway full by the time I set it down. I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt, unbothered by the risk of possibly staining it.  

“You,” I panted, pointing to Donghyuck,

“Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Donghyuck, or I guess Haechan, did his best to fill me in on... well everything.  

The 127 member that Mark had told me about, was actually Donghyuck all along. He was working undercover as my apartment’s doorman, in order to get information on a former NCT member named Hansol, which is why he went by Donghyuck instead of his real name. Hansol had disappeared without a trace several years ago and 127 had been trying to find him ever since. One of NCT’s sources claimed that they had sighted Hansol entering my apartment complex with one of the building’s residents, a gang leader who usually went under the alias, Feeldog but was registered with the building as Kwang-suk. Apparently, it was rumored that Hansol left NCT to join Feeldog’s gang, UNB, a rumor that Yuta apparently took great issue with.  

“There’s no way. He wouldn’t do that. Not without telling someone at least,” He maintained.

Haechan and Taeyong glanced at each other.  

“What?!” Yuta snapped.

Taeyong sighed.

“It’s just that you and Hansol were so close, it makes sense that you would have feelings of betrayal surrounding his disappearance.”

“So what? You think I’m blinded by our friendship or some shit? That I can’t think clearly? Hansol disappeared and we failed him by not finding him. Who knows what could UNB could have done to him? He could be dead for all we know!”  

Yuta was so riled up that he had to excuse himself from the table. Doyoung, who had remained silent this entire time, left with him.

“He gets like this anytime someone brings him up,” Mark sighed.

“There hadn’t been any sightings of Hansol since or even before the one at your building. That’s why when we got the tip, we decided to send in someone to go undercover,” Taeyong revealed before Haechan chimed in.

“Jaehyun obviously couldn’t send any of the members on an undercover mission since Hansol would have immediately recognized them. Mark and I were the only two members who hadn’t joined 127 until after Hansol disappeared so it had to be one of us. Since Mark was being trained to eventually take over NCT Dream, the Canadian unit, I was the obvious candidate. After that, we needed to figure out how I was going to be able to constantly surveil the building without being suspicious.”

“As a doorman?” I interjected.

“Exactly! It isn’t abnormal for a doorman to take an interest in their building’s residents. They see everyone who comes in or out of the building. They know everyone’s names and everyone’s business. They’re always there so you never think twice when you see them around the building.”

I let out a scoff which prompted Haechan to furrow his brows.

“What?” He asked.  

“So, all this time, you were just pretending to be my friend so that you could blend in?”  

My accusation was immediately purged of all seriousness when a snort escaped from Haechan as he began to cackle.

“Pretend to be friends with you?! To blend in?! Y/N, I did everything in my power to avoid you!”

Now it was my turn to furrow my brows.

“The first twenty times you saw me you were either hungover or drunk. Either way, you found a way to make a scene, calling me Dongfuck, asking me why I was so serious and telling me to loosen up a bit. I was so worried that you would blow my cover that when I saw Feeldog coming down the halls, I agreed to go drinking with you just to get you to leave before he got close.“

I could feel my cheeks start to burn up. Taeyong started to chuckle, only attempting to recompose himself after noticing my glare. I remembered what he was talking about. After what happened with Lucas, I found the Heartbreakers and was able to make enough money to afford rent in a bougie apartment building. But to say that I was in a better place would have been far from the truth. I was an absolute a mess. The only time I was sober was when I had just woken up and sometimes not even then.  

“I knew if I stood you up that you’d only make an even bigger ruckus the next time you saw me, so I decided to just say ‘fuck it’ and go party with you. I didn’t expect to have as much fun as I did.”

I looked up at Haechan and was surprised to see nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

“Okay, but what about you and Mark?” Is he the guy you had told me about?”  

All traces of peacefulness had disappeared from Haechan’s eyes which looked as though they were about to pop out of their sockets. I felt an elbow dig into my side though when I turned to scold its owner, I saw that Mark was shaking his head at me with a look so serious and grave that I could barely believe it had actually come from Mark, himself.  

I shot a look back at Taeyong who seemed more confused than anything, before taking notice of Jeno and Jaemin who both sent each other a casual smirk. I had totally forgotten that they were arguing about the secrecy of their relationship before I unintentionally intervened.

“I just meant... the guy you told me about, the one who loved watermelon more than anything? That was Mark, right?”

Both Haechan and I looked at Taeyong, who was chuckling under his breath.  

“He really does love watermelon, doesn’t he?” He laughed.

Haechan’s eyes returned to their usual state after realizing that Taeyong was still as clueless as ever.

Once I had been caught up on everything, Taeyong excused himself, allowing the table’s remaining occupants to discuss more personal matters.  

“Yes, Mark is the boyfriend I told you about. The one who can’t even man up and tell his coworkers that he’s bi and has a boyfriend.”  

“Wait, what?” Mark quirked, having returned to his default state of confusion.

“Oh, forget it,” Haechan sighed.

<><><><><><><><>

I woke up the next morning to the sound of the alarm clock Taeyong had given me the previous evening. I was glad to have some way of waking myself up in the morning so that Jeno wouldn’t have be the one to do it. I always felt bad for him since not only did he usually have to wake me up, he had to wait for me to get ready too. This way, I could wake myself up and be ready to meet Jeno in the training room before 6:00.  

Before coming here, I was never able to get myself out of bed this early, usually due to being hungover, but I really didn’t want to keep Jeno waiting, especially since he was doing me a favor by becoming my trainer.  

I got out of bed, still sluggish with sleep, and proceeded to put on my workout clothes. I brushed my hair out of my face, pulled it back into a ponytail and headed out the bedroom door.  

Since I was allowed to sleep in the day before, waking up at 5:30 was harder than usual. Just when I was starting to get used to the crazy schedule, Taeyong had to mess it up by telling Jeno to let me sleep in. My eyes could barely stay open as I wandered through the empty halls. I lightly slapped my cheeks with my hands in an attempt to shake away my drowsiness.  

I hoped that Jeno’s training voice would be enough to snap me out of my dazed state, so I immediately entered the training room when I arrived at its door.  

“Goodmorning, Jeno,“ I greeted as I tried to rub the sleep from my eyes.

“Goodmorning, Y/N.”

My breathing hitched and my lazy steps came to an immediate halt.  

All fatigue left my body along with any last traces of serenity I was feeling only moments prior.  

My hands carefully removed themselves from my eyes and dropped to my sides. 

“What are you doing here?”

[infinite-xerath]

Runeterra Retcons: Ruination Episode (Ionia)

Ionia Part I

After discussing it heavily with your comrades, you all agree that your next destination should be Ionia. The light of the Wayfinder encompasses you all as it carries you across the sea to the Ionian Sentinel outpost, where you are surprised to find that nothing seems amiss on the shores.

“Looks like the Black Mist hasn’t gotten here yet.”

“Wow, so this is Ionia? It’s beautiful!”

Riven response 1: “I can’t say I’m surprised. Ionia’s always been resistant to invaders…”

Riven response 2: “Yeah… But it wasn’t always like this…”

Gwen: “Oh what an absolutely splendid place! I’ve never been anywhere this majestic before!”

Senna: “They call Ionia the First Lands, and some say it’s the birthplace of magic itself. I guess it’s no surprise that this place is a sort of safe haven against the Harrowing.”

Olaf: “Wait! Look there!”

Olaf points further inland, where you see a great cloud of Black Mist descending onto a vibrant forest.

Vayne: “So much for a safe haven…”

Senna: “No time to stand around and gawk! Let’s move, Sentinels!”

Senna takes the lead as you all charge ahead, ascending the winding mountain path. All around you, wild animals scatter and flee as the Black Mist pours through the forest. The once-vibrant flora withers and distorts around you while the very air seems to linger with malice.

Suddenly, you feel a gnarled tree root spring to life and wrap around your leg, pulling you down. A shrill scream fills the air as you hit the ground and feel yourself being dragged back down the path. Before you vanish completely into the brush, however, Lucian frees your leg with a well-timed shot.

Lucian: “You alright, rookie? That was, uh, quite a scream just now.”

“Thanks, I owe you.”

“That, uh, wasn’t me.”

Lucian response 1: “Don’t mention it. Now let’s keep moving.”

Lucian response 2: “Heh, sure it wasn’t...”

Before you can say anything more, another identical scream cuts through the air. You all turn to see a peculiar figure bounding through the forest. Her upper half resembles that of a young woman, but her lower body is that of a fawn. She holds in her possession a branch with a peculiar bloom attached to it.

???: “Oh dear, oh dear!”

“Is that a person?”

“Is that an animal?”

Vayne: “Whatever it is, it’s heading right for us.”

Sure enough, the strange figure is bounding toward you at an alarming rate, looking back over her shoulder. She turns her head just in time to see the Sentinels and comes skidding to a stop.

???: “Eep!”

“Eep!”

“Woah, that was close!”

“She… Is… Adorable!”

Lillia: “W-Who are you!? Ah, wait, no! Just… Pretend you can’t see them, Lillia! If you can’t see them, they can’t see you.”

Vayne: “Sorry to lay this on you, but that’s not how it works.”

Riven: “Hang on, something else is coming!”

You look up to see the Black Mist descending toward you, carrying with it a swarm of wraiths.

Lillia: “Oh no! They’ve followed me!”

Gwen: “Please, stand behind us, funny fawn person! We will make short work of these fiends!”

Ionia Part II

The Sentinels charge into the fray, cutting and blasting their way through the swarm of wraiths. As they fight, however, you notice more of the local wildlife succumbing to the Black Mist, warping the surrounding forests beyond recognition.

Lillia: “No… Stop! Please stop!”

“Are you OK?”

“Hey, everything’s going to be alright.”

Lillia: “No… Can’t you feel it? The dreams of the trees, the animals… It’s like… One very bad dream is blocking out all the others!”

Lucian: “Rookie, what’s she talking about?”

Senna: “Nevermind, just stay focused! We need push deeper into this forest and find that fetter!”

The Sentinels quickly resume their fight, though Lillia’s ears perk up when she hears Senna’s words.

Lillia: “What? You’re… Going DEEPER into the forest? B-But it’s dangerous!”

Vayne: “Exactly! Where monsters go, so do we!”

Riven: “If the Black Mist is here, that must mean another one of these fetters is too, right? Then we have to find it and get it out of here, or all of Ionia will be in danger! That’s… Not something I want to see again!”

Gwen: “Quite right! Fear not, funny fawn girl! We shan’t let a few wraiths impede us!”

Lillia: “But… Why?”

“We’re Sentinels. Fighting ghosts is what we do!”

“We’re here to save Ionia, and the world, from the Black Mist!”

Lillia: “You… You aren’t afraid?”

“Not in the slightest!”

“Quite a bit, actually, but I can’t turn back now!”

Lillia: “That’s… That’s quite brave of you. …Alright. Everyone, please follow me! I think I know what the ghouls are after!”

Lillia suddenly darts off into the forest, waving her branch to clean a path through the Mist.

Riven: “Should we follow her?”

Senna: “Well… If she can lead us to the fetter, it’s a risk I’m willing to take! Move out, Sentinels!”

Ionia Part III

Lillia guides you through the forest, using the branch in her hands to keep the hostile wildlife at bay. You follow her into a cave, where your only source of light comes from Lillia’s bloom. Though it’s dark and damp, you’re surprised to find that the Black Mist seems to linger about the entrance, refusing to step inside.

Vayne: “Are we sure about this isn’t a trap?”

“We’ve already come all this way…”

“Hey, she’s cute! How can you say no to those big eyes?”

Olaf: “Hmph. If this is a trap, there had better be a worth foe at this tunnel’s end!”

Lillia: “...”

Lucian: “Hey, fawn girl!”

Lillia: “Eep! O-Oh, you mean me?”

Lucian: “Yeah. Are you sure there’s a fetter in here?”

Lillia: “Uh, well… I’m not sure what sort of ‘fetter’ you mean, but I think… I know that the ghouls want what’s up ahead.”

Vayne: “And just how do you know that?”

“Come on guys, have some faith in her.”

“The Mist didn’t want to come in here, so there’s gotta be something special about this place.”

Riven: “Wait, do you see that?”

Up ahead, the path widens out into a grotto illuminated by giant crystals in the cave wall.

“What is this place?”

“It’s breathtaking…”

Riven: “Yeah, Ionia really is beautiful. It’s a shame that some people would destroy that beauty just to take it for themselves…”

Up ahead, you see that the cave floor turns from stone to grass. Somehow, a small meadow has bloomed in the heart of the mountain, illuminated by the glow of the crystals.

Gwen: “Goodness, these gems would make for a marvelous addition to a dress! Oh, but I suppose that would ruin their natural beauty. A shame.”

Lucian: “It’s pretty, alright, but where’s the fetter?”

As if on cue, the light in Senna’s chest starts to glow, as does Gwen’s. Nearby, you see a single flower near the heart of the grotto begin to glow with the same calming light.

Senna: “There it is! That’s the fetter!”

“A rose? How can a rose be a fetter?”

“So Isolde’s soul has been hiding in a flower for centuries?”

Lillia: “This flower is very old. It was brought here long ago from a far-away land. I can see its dreams too, you know. Dreams so pure, full of love and light… Happy memories. It dreams of man and woman who cherished each other more than anything. Isn’t that… Such… A lovely dream?”

You watch in horror as a ghastly crown forms around Lillia’s head. Suddenly, Black Mist fills the cave, engulfing Lillia and transforming her in an instant.

Lillia: “Such a lovely dream, and you all are trying to ruin it! How… How could you!?”

“Lillia, wait! Let’s talk this out!”

“Aw man! Why is it always the cute ones!?”

Vayne: “I knew we couldn’t trust her!”

Vayne takes aim with her crossbow, but before she can fire a single shot, Lillia waves her branch in a wide arc. A mysterious, glittering dust washes over you and the other Sentinels, as does a strange sense of drowsiness.

Olaf: “Argh! What… Is this…?”

Gwen: “Oh my. Suddenly… So… Tired…”

“So… Sleepy.”

“Can’t… Stay… Awake.”

Despite your best efforts, you soon succumb to the effects of Lillia’s dream dust. Soon, you and the other Sentinels fall onto the floor of the cave and descend into a deep slumber…

Ionia Part IV

You find yourself wandering the streets of your hometown, alone. Wherever you go, the people have locked their doors and refuse to open up. You are cold and scared, and those feelings only grow as you notice the ominous Black Mist coursing toward you.

You try to run, but the Mist is faster. You hear inhuman screams behind you, and look back to see vaguely humanoid figures emerging from the haze. You force your legs into overdrive, only to wind up tripping and following on a loose stone. Your cry out in pain as you hit the ground, but your scream is drowned out by the wails of the undead behind you.

Dread hangs over you a like a pall. Death seems inevitable, though you know that death is not the end if these creatures take you. You will become one of them, hunting other poor souls to join the ranks of the undead. You close your eyes and wait, only for the sound of gunfire to fill your ears.

You open your eyes and look up. The wraiths cry out in pain as bolts of light pierce them, driving them back. You find yourself surrounded by figures in strange uniforms, carrying weapons unlike any you’ve every seen.

“W-Who are you?”

“Where did you come from?”

Though their face is hazy, you see one of the figures turn to look at you.

???: “We’re the Sentinels of Light. Don’t worry, we’ll handle the undead. You just find a safe place to hide and wake up.”

“Huh?”

“What do you mean?”

???: “Wake up. Come on, Rookie, nap time is over!”

Your eyes slowly open as you regain consciousness. You see Lucian and Senna standing over you.

Senna: “Good to see you’re still with us.”

“How long was I out?”

“What happened?”

Lucian response 1: “Too damn long. That deer girl made off with fetter while we are all dozin’ off.”

Lucian response 2: “That deer girl put us all to sleep then nabbed the fetter, that’s what.”

Gwen: “And she seemed so nice! What an awful turn things have taken.”

???: “Indeed. The future of the realms hangs in the balance.”

“Uh, who is this?”

“Is that a freaking ninja!?”

Shen: “Apologies if I have startled you, child. I am the Eye of Twilight, but you may call me Shen.”

Vayne: “After Deer Girl put us all to sleep, this ninja’s the one who came to wake us up. I don’t like being in debt, but I guess we owe you now.”

Shen: “You owe me nothing. I acted as needed to maintain balance, nothing more.”

Riven: “Apparently, he’s part of the Kinkou. I’ve heard of them. They’re a group devoted to maintaining order in Ionia, though from what I understand, they didn’t do much when Noxus invaded these shores.”

Shen: “The Kinkou protect the balance between the material and immaterial realms. Mortal wars are not our concern… But this Harrowing threatens to consume Ionia itself.”

Shen gestures outside and, to your horror, you see that the Black Mist has nearly complete covered the forest. The once-vibrant colors of the trees are now faded and lifeless and the sounds of nature are replaced by the cries of wraiths.

“It’s awful…”

“How did this happen so fast?”

Shen: “The spirit of Ionia is tainted, and the land is a reflection of that spirit. What’s more, azakana will feed on the negativity brought forth by this, granting demons more power than ever.”

Senna: “This is what’ll happen to the entire world if we don’t stop Viego. That’s why we need to find that fetter, and quickly!”

Gwen: “But… That Not-so-Funny Faun took it! How are we supposed to find her amidst all of that?”

Vayne: “Hate to say it, but she’s right. If we have to fight through all of that, then Deer Girl will be long-gone by the time we catch her trail.”

Shen: “Fear not, for the Eye of Twilight sees all, even through the darkest shadows. The Dream Faun makes for the coast, though I sense an even greater darkness approaching. You, who are sword to defend the light, will you accompany me to confront this darkness?”

Gwen: “A greater darkness? You couldn’t possibly mean...”

Lucian: “Viego! We gotta get the beach, now!”

Riven: “But how are we going to get there through all this Mist?”

Shen: “Fret not, for I walk the space between world. Gather close to me.”

Though uncertain of his meaning, you and the other Sentinels do as asked, stepping close to Shen as he makes unusual gestures with his hands. Suddenly, you are all engulfed in violet light as Shen whisks you through the spirit realm.

Ionia Part V

You feel formless. Weightless. All around you are sights and colors your mind can scarcely comprehend. Some set your mind at ease, while others terrify you. This sensation lasts for only a moment before you reemerge in the physical realm, surrounded once more by your comrades.

“Hey, long-distance teleporting is my thing!”

“That… Was awesome!”

“That was… Bizarre!”

Riven: “Ugh… I think I’ll stick to the Wayfinder from now on, thanks.”

Shen: “Gather yourselves! The Dream Fawn is just ahead!”

Sure enough, you see Lillia standing on the beach, staring out at the ocean. She clutches the fetter tightly in one hand and her branch in the other.

Lucian: “She doesn’t know we’re here. I say we take her by surprise and-”

Olaf: “RETRIBUTION AWAITS!”

Suddenly, Olaf rushes ahead, screaming at the top of his lungs. Lillia leaps in surprise and turns around to see the berserker rushing at her. Instinctively, she launches a seed from her branch that rolls along the sand, growing large in size as it travels.

“Olaf, look out!”

“Don’t let it hit you!”

Olaf utterly ignores your warning and runs into the seed head-on. To your amazement, he just keeps running even as the seed explodes into dream dust.

Lillia: “W-What!? T-That’s not possible!”

Lucian: “That’s a berserker for ya. Once they get riled up, nobody can stop them.”

Olaf is just about to reach Lillia when, suddenly, the tide behind her swells to life and comes ashore. Olaf is swept back in a massive wave of darkened away, though Lillia somehow remains completely dry.

Lucian: “The ocean, on the other hand…”

Shen: “The Spirit of Ionia is tainted. The trees, the air, the waters… They now bend to HIS will.”

You look ahead to see a familiar figure emerging from the Black Mist, the sea itself parting to make way for him.

“Viego!”

“The Ruined King!”

Olaf: “Pfft! Pah! So, he’s the one who bested the Barbarian King? I thought he would be… Bigger.”

Viego: “Ah, what a pleasant surprise! I travel all this way to find that my prize is already waiting for me.”

Lillia: “Y-Yes, sir. I am here to help your dream bloom.”

Shen: “Stop! You have desecrated the balance, and now you shall pay for your transgressions!”

Viego: “Balance? Fool. Without her, there is no balance. She is the light to my darkness, the joy to my anguish. If you would stand against me, then YOU are the one who shall pay the price!”

Shen and Viego dash across the beach toward each other, their blades ringing out as they clash.

Senna: “Let’s back him up, Sentinels!”

You and the other Sentinels quickly rush to aid Shen, but find yourself impeded by the corrupted Spirit of Ionia. Fierce bursts of wind repeatedly knock you off your feat while rocks along the beach form together into twisted constructs.

Riven: “Ngh…”

“Are you alright?”

“Riven, what’s wrong?”

Riven: “Fighting on the beaches of Ionia, pushing back against the will of the land itself… This whole scenario is bringing back a lot of unhappy memories.”

Senna: “Shake it off, Riven! We need to push past this!”

The Sentinels continue to struggle against the will of the land, but only Shen seems undeterred by it. The Eye of Twlight engages the Ruined King in a fierce battle, both of them vanishing and reappearing all over the beach.

“I can barely keep track of them!”

“This isn’t working!”

Viego: “See how your homeland bends to my will, Ionian! Your allies can lend you no aid. Mine, on the other hand…”

Lillia leaps into the air behind Shen, slamming her branch down on the beach. Shen staggers as Lillia’s dream dust washes over him, falling to one knee as he struggles to stay awake. Meanwhile, Viego turns his attention to your group, his gaze fixing itself upon Senna and Gwen. They fail to notice, too busy fending off the endlessly-regenerating stone constructs on the beach.

“Gwen, look out!”

“Senna, look out!”

Option 1: Viego rushes toward Gwen, but thanks to your warning, she manages to parry the blow and push Viego back her Hallowed Mist.

Option 2: Viego rushes toward Senna, but thanks to your warning, she manages to evade his strike and fire a back in retaliation.

Viego grunts in annoyance and vanishes into the Black Mist once more. To your surprise, he reappears before you, lifting you up by the throat.

Viego: “Such a peculiar child. Your little band is strange enough, but you… You do not even carry a weapon. Still, you seek to defy me, all the same.”

Vayne: “Put the kid down, creep!”

The Sentinels all rush to your aid, but soon find themselves impeded by a wall of sand rising up around you.

Viego: “Many choose to stand against me and my noble quest. Some do it to ‘save’ this cruel world. Others merely resent me, though their hearts are as dark as my own. So tell me, child: why do you oppose me? Justice? Righteousness? Contempt?”

“…”

“What you’re doing is wrong!”

Viego: “Hmph. A predictable response. No matter. Whatever your reasons, you will serve as an example!”

Viego raises his sword to impale you, but another blade suddenly manifests above your head: an ephemeral weapon that lingers in the air. A pulse of spirit magic frees you from Viego’s grasp and destroys the sand barrier. Viego vanishes into the Mist once more, and in his place stands Shen, grasping the shimmering blade.

Shen: “Stand up. Your role is far from over.”

The other Sentinels quickly reconvene around you as you climb to your feet.

Gwen: “Rookie! Goodness, are you alright?”

“I’m alright, thanks to Shen.”

“Still shaking, but otherwise fine.”

Viego: “You think you are safe? None of you shall escape my grasp!”

Suddenly, you notice several giant crabs erupting the sand around you, their eyes flickering with the ghastly light of Ruination.

Senna: “This isn’t working! Sentinels, I’m calling a tactical retreat! We can’t fight Viego AND the damn beach at the same time! Rookie, get us out of here!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you raise the Wayfinder and let its light wash over you just as the crabs begin to close in. In an instant, you and your allies vanish, leaving Viego alone with Lillia on the harrowed beach.

Lillia: “Oh dear. They got away, sir…”

Viego takes the flower from her grasp and sniffs it longingly.

Viego: “No matter. I am one step closer to realizing my dream, little fawn. Come, let us resume our search elsewhere.”

Viego turns and walks away into the Black Mist with Lillia behind him, leaving a Ruined Ionia in his wake.

Back as Sentinel headquarters, you breath a sigh of relief to have narrowly escaped the Ruined King.

Senna and Olaf: “DAMN IT!”

Senna: “We almost had him!”

Olaf: “I almost had my glorious death!”

Riven: So that was the Ruined King… I can’t believe he has that much power.”

Vayne: “He didn’t the last time we faced him. Somehow, that monster’s gotten even stronger.”

Gwen: “Goodness, are you alright, Rookie? That was quite fright!”

“Honestly, I’m still shaking a little.”

“Y-yeah, I’m t-totally fine!”

Shen: “Overcoming fear is the first step to attaining inner balance.”

Everyone: “…”

Senna: “Hang on, how do you get here?”

Shen: “The same way you all did, naturally.”

Shen gestures to the Wayfinder.

“Oh, guess he got caught in the light too. My bad.”

“Huh. I, uh, totally meant to bring you back with us too.”

Shen: “I am here because Balance wills it.”

Riven: “Hang on, are you saying that…”

Shen: “I… Was not strong enough to defeat this imbalance on my own. Ionia has been consumed by darkness, but its spirit has not yet been wholly subsumed. I will do all that I must to preserve it, even allying with your order.”

Vayne: “You want to be a Sentinel? I guess we could do worse, though I don’t know if one ninja will make that much of a difference.”

Gwen: “Oh, another new addition to the team! How wonderful! Please, come with me, and we’ll get you fitted right away!”

You all watch as Shen departs with Gwen, emerging moments later with his new Sentinel attire.

Gwen: “Tadaa! I present to you: Sentinel Shen!”

You can’t help but note that her display lacks the same level of enthusiasm as usual, but opt not to comment on it.

Shen: “It is an honor to fight alongside you.”

Lucian: “Right… Well, let’s get you sworn in, I guess.” (But after that, we’re all gonna need to rethink our plan.)

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (3)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: Part 1 | Previous: Part 2 | Next: Part 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

The Second Brother’s hand barely touched you, his clawed gloves hovered mere inches away from your face, but you could feel the energy escaping your entire body and then enter his fingers in the form of white, translucent tendrils. The sensation was similar to drowning—sinking, rather—with a weight tied to your ankles, the farther you plummet the more air you are deprived of. Your throat roughed up on its own as you gagged for oxygen. When you thought you were kicking your legs to perhaps swing yourself out, your ankles were all but a pair of spastic, twitching joints—any more and you just might tear your tendons due to the desperation brought by your fight-or-flight instinct.

It’s excruciating. Extremely.

You could feel like your heart would stop any moment now, unable to withstand this overwhelming sensation.

With your guard down, he got back at you in breaking your balance—kicking you in the shin so your stance falters—and then held you by the scruff of your shirt as he continued stealing what could be your Force energy. As he stole your essence, he took satisfaction in your bodily throes that were nothing more but feeble attempts to slip away from his grasp.

“Not so slippery, aren’t you, my little thorn?”

For every inch of translucent mist that wafted out you cannot breathe, your head felt heavy for each time the veins on your temples throbbed, and your vision went dim as you avoided eye contact with the Second Brother. Whatever form of escape you attempt, everything was pointless.

You are literally in the Second Brother’s grasp.

It is mercy that he has not killed you yet.

Although he decided to make a plaything out of your agony.

“LET ME GO!!! LET… M-ME… G-G-GO!!!” you ear-shattering plea fell to deaf, sadistic ears.

As you suffer with every violent jerk of your body—so much so that it cramped your muscles—every labored, through-the-teeth breath, and the frenzied shifting of your eyes to fight off the dimming—all of these reactions to the intolerable, inhumane pain that you’re experiencing right now does not seem to sate this Inquisitor.

Through his wicked Force ability, he was able to see everything in the recesses of your mind—your memories, dreams and nightmares, and fears. He bore witness to the nightmare that has haunted two nights ago until the eve of this very day. The Second Brother wanted to make sure that you will see and realize that your motivation is also your weakness.

“Now I see whom that fire burns for,” he purred.

His cackling began with a wheeze, muffled yet still audible through his mask’s ornate face plate. As he looked into your shifty eyes, he mocks you by watching your nightmare play like a film… over and over again, to his liking.

All of a sudden, his strength appears to have double compared to hours ago. The longer he inflicts this agonizing power over you, the more you submit to your knees—with the toll of the pain becoming more and more unbearable.

This was a dark, distorted mirror image of Cal’s own ability: Psychometry. His and the Second Brother’s abilities are near-identical; the only difference is that the Inquisitor has yet to demonstrate that he can manipulate his victim’s visions to his whim—bending them, poisoning them, and ultimately changing them—to further twist what they truly convey. This is a capability that he has earned through the Dark Side of the Force.

“I can see him heading this way right now,”

“Liar! He’s out there fighting with the others,”

“Oh, I never lie. I may be bad, little thorn, but I do not lie—it’s a lesser, lamer evil, in my opinion.”

“And I am supposed to believe you—of all people? I’d rather believe a pile of Bantha shit if it talked!”

The fight dragged on, while it did, Cal tore his way through the enemy fronts, leaving lifeless Stormtroopers in his wake—but he hasn’t gotten any closer to the stronghold to get to you. From where he stood, he could see the rebels that you came with pour out of the entrance, some of them leaped from the towers, taking the enemy by surprise and flanking them.

He squinted his eyes through the battlefield, he couldn’t spot you—he knew what you wore and none of those figures in the distance matched.

“Where are you, [Y/N]?” Cal growled in frustration and growing fear.

The Inquisitor continued to siphon your Force energy out of your system, leaving barely an ounce from the vessel.

When he’s had enough of it, he releases his grip from the collar of your shirt and then you felt a row of solid, metal knuckles slammed to your cheekbone. You literally saw stars, mere white specks dancing behind your eyes as the surroundings blurred; you can barely make a proper stance, let alone stand straight. The Inquisitor laughed in mockery.

“With every step he takes, the closer that nightmare of yours becomes a reality,” he cooed.

“Just shut up!”

“Oh, and would you look at the time?” he chirped in his trademark singsong tone, only this time it was sarcastic and meant to taunt you.

Eleven minutes remain on the clock.

You spot this from the nearest time-bomb at the corner of your eye.

“Do you still think you can play around with fate, little thorn?”

There still some fight left in you, though your battle was both physical and mental, it’s difficult enough to deal with the physical—what more of the latter?

Being drained of your Force essence was relative to losing a lot of blood—you’re nauseous and groggy, your vision’s fogged and wobbly, and your grip can barely keep itself tight. You cannot even hold your defensive stance for more than a minute. You coax yourself to take long, slow, calm breaths—it was effective. Slowly, you recompose yourself.

Your objective in mind is to hold off the Second Brother while affording enough time to escape.

“There is another way of saving him, you know,”

You ultimately hate to admit it… but he’s right.

As he had siphoned the Force out of you, he has also seen through the secrets of your mind. He knew of your fear—the apparent death of Cal. You’ve already figured out that the blinding red and orange light, the ash and soot, all came from the imminent explosion caused by the bombs destroying the reactors.

Little did you know that the solution he had intentionally embedded in your mind was a distortion, a trick, and he smiled to himself sensing full well that you’re slowly biting into the bait.

“Are you really going to let his blood be on your hands? It’s going to be a lot, you might not keep all of it, little thorn,”

“Don’t call me that…” you snarled through the grit of your teeth as you sobbed.

You’re desperate. The longer the clock ticks, the more imminent Cal’s death would be.

Come on, [Y/N], think fast!

You will not allow the Second Brother to get the best of you. A mere second was afforded for you to meditate, to make peace quickly that your last-minute plan is the best and only resort to save Cal—without any other compromise.

I know he’s safe, that’s all that matters. You mouth the words to yourself like a prayer.

With one sweep of the arm, all of the bombs’ timers have been manually changed. Originally, only five minutes were remaining, but you—using the Force—overrode the configuration and set them all to ten seconds. This took the Second Brother by surprise, with the remainder of your strength, you kicked him on the chest and flung him a few inches away; while disoriented, you made a run for it—dashing through the air in the same speed as he did, scaled and skipped a few spokes of the ladder until you hauled yourself to the platform. Doing these doubled the toll your body is already taking, which is struggling to keep you from collapsing; your breath heaved and your own weight suddenly became anvils.

Now that you’ve gotten yourself to high ground, you’ve used up all of your energy and returned to your sluggish, weakened state. The exit is still far off and you can see the digits on the clock.

00:05.

“W-Where’s [Y/N]?” Cal demands an answer from the rebel who ran past him, grabbing the soldier by the sleeve.

“I-I don’t know! An Imp attacked us from nowhere… he’s already killed Yenna!”

“Imp? What Imp?”

“He had a saber like yours, except red.”

The young Jedi let the partisan go. Based on the last thing the rebel said, Cal already knew it was no ordinary Imp.

His fears have come true. Although he was aware of the risks already but he never anticipated you would face an Inquisitor alone!

00:02.

Before Cal could even get any closer to the stronghold, he—along with everyone else, friend and foe alike—stopped dead in his tracks, startled by the rumble that sourced from the building. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped—the red and orange cloud of fire filled the pair of jade eyes—and his heart drummed so loudly that it just might tear right through his ribs and out from his leather armor. Goosebumps pelted his arms, cold sweat trickled on his temples, and the hairs at the back of his neck pricked up.

“No…!” he gasped. When the reality of the explosion eventually sunk into him, despite refusing the truth right in front of him, he roared your name at the top of his lungs—so much so that he wheezed when he inhaled.

“Beeeeeeee!!!!” BD-1 let out of the shrillest, ear-shattering chirp he has ever done in his entire life.

“FALL BACK!!!”

“RETREAT!!”

The Stormtroopers cried in panic, some turned tail and fled, a brave handful kept shooting while slowly stepping back. The rebels gradually overtook the field until the numbers have thinned out in the enemy’s side. Having a complete disregard for his safety, Cal charged through the crossfire, powered yet blinded by pure adrenaline, a few of the partisans called out to him but to no avail.

“CAL, HEY COME BACK!!”

“CAL, COME BACK HERE!!!”

Cal was hindered from coming closer as another minor explosion followed up after the big one. The wind of the blast was enough to fling him away and the couple of partisans who called for him ran and caught up to him. The hooked their arms underneath Cal’s.

“NO, WAIT!!! [Y/N] IS STILL IN THERE!!!” Cal violently kicked and attempted to shake them off his arms, but they’ve held him tight enough to bruise his arms through the sleeves. “GET OFF OF ME!!!”

“Cal, come on! We gotta get out of here!” insisted the male partisan who’s the first to call Cal out when he ran off.

The two young men worked together in hauling Cal out of the fire’s radius—surprisingly, he was heavy for both of them, considering the insistent one was a bit bulkier in stature, but that’s the adrenaline doing its job in his body—the ginger kept his eyes on the blazing stronghold, his emotions have clouded the clarity of his mind as well as his good judgment.

The pair of rebels had regrouped with Cal in tow—who was still being stubborn and difficult to deal with. They reported the one known casualty—the woman who personally called you Little Spark, the woman named Yenna, murdered by the Inquisitor upon making his grand entrance earlier.

Cere personally approached him to greet him back, but when the woman saw that you’re missing, her eyes searched the entire group.

“Where’s [Y/N]?”

“She wasn’t with them when they rendezvoused,”

“Th-Then where?”

Cal’s face lit up and frantically patted his person in search of the compact radar. There was no sign of your blip. He could’ve sworn he saw it blink once before it died out.

“No! My radar’s bust, but I know she’s out there, Cere!”

Cere, unsure of what to make of Cal’s medley of emotions, sighed and spoke nothing. Cal insisted on setting up a search party for you with him personally leading it. The idea was merit, unfortunately, the young redhead isn’t the one calling the shots.

“Whoa, slow down, kid,” the captain in charge stepped into the scene between Cal and Cere. He expresses that he understands what the boy is going through, shell-shocked by the apparent fact that you might have been killed in the explosion, but he also expressed the importance of the survivors’ individual well-being.

“We have to tend the wounded first; and you’re gonna need some equipment if you want to charge through that fire out there,” added the captain.

“I won’t need a lot of men, rather I don’t any,”

The same couple of partisans who hauled Cal against his will—namely Larki and Morzen—cut in directly after Cal’s statement. They volunteered to go with him, thus it’s just the three of them as a search party. They have enough people back in the rendezvous point and the main hideout to care for the wounded and send them back for proper medical attention. The captain personally took and handed over sets of protective gears for Cal and his companions.

The three of them mounted speeder bikes—Cal rode along while Larki and Morzen shared. Cere watched the trio disappear into the horizon and then her head craned to the sky peeking over the trees.

It will be night very soon.

“Your boy sure is persistent,”

“It’s because he feels something is there, and he means what he says,” Cere argued. She nodded sideways to the captain, gesturing him to the tent until their land transport arrives.

[pandoraimperatrix]

randumbteahouse replied to your post “I’m in a bad mood and I want to write fluff people Please send me...”

BatCat babysitting little Mar'i and/or Jake Grayson?

 BatCat | DickKory | Plotless unashamed fluff | 1,8k | Read on AO3

“Hi, B!” Greeted Dick opening the door of his condo.

Bruce gave him his small barely there smile in answer to Dick’s huge all white teeth one.

“Hello, chum.”

Dick then turned to Bruce’s companion.

“And how are you, beautiful?”

Selina raised her gloved hands to Dick’s face, pulling him for a loud kiss full on the lips, to which he made crunched his entire face blushing horrendously to her delight.

“I’m wonderful, darling. So glad to see you. He’s so handsome, Bruce, look at him.”

“I’m looking.” Agreed Bruce with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Where’s the little kitten? And that gorgeous wife of yours?”

“They are in the nursery” Selina took her woollen coat off and handed wordlessly to Bruce, walking across Dick following his instruction, Bruce moved inside too, starting to undress from his heavy overcoat as well, but was interrupted, buy Dick’s arms hugging from the middle, he patted the younger man awkwardly on the head. “Thank you for coming.”

Bruce just grunted. Dick, freed his emotionally stunted dad and closed the door.

“Where…?” Asked Bruce holding the clothing.

“Oh, the coat hanger fell under the weight of Kory’s collection of handbags and I haven’t put the new on the wall, just throw your coats… Anywhere.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow to that noticing the apartment around him. Dick had never been an organized child, he had impeccable work ethics but his living grounds had always being a reason for arguments when he was growing up, and adding a baby in it… Well, he knew now why Dick invite Alfred to babysit yet. It was not a complete chaos, but it was far from acceptable by the butler’s standards.

“Come! We wanted you guys to see her while she was awake, but she woke up this morning super early for no reason, she was so full of energy, flying everywhere I think she crashed now.” He laughed.

“Flying?”

“Oh! I didn’t tell you?”

But they had reached the nursery door.

Kory was sitting on a very comfortable velvet chair, Alfred’s present. The baby on her arms had a darker shade of golden skin than her mother’s, and her long black eyelashes making shadows under her closed eyes and she suckled on her mother’s breast. Her little plump hand was holding firmly to Selina’s finger.

“Bruce, look how big she is…” Said Selina whispering.

“Greetings.” Koriand’r smiled to Bruce.

He nodded his head to her, approaching the women.

Bruce leaned in and with the back of two fingers, brushed softly the dark locks of the baby’s hair.

Selina turned her gaze from the baby to her husband, to others maybe he looked stoic as always, but by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed she could see the huge emotional response. She rubbed his bicep with her free hand.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Bruce cleaned his throat.

“Yes.” He answered, his voice croaky and deeper than the usual.

Selina and Kory exchanged an amused look.

“Do you want to hold her?” Asked Kory.

“Aren’t you feeding her now?”

“Oh no, she is done.” Smiled Kory. “She is already asleep.”

“I don’t want to disturb her.”

“She sleeps heavily. No need to worry.” Kory pulled her nipple from the baby’s mouth and covered herself, floated so she was in level with Bruce, and gently put the baby in his arms. Her daughter looking so little next to her massive grandfather.

Mar’i cooed softly getting comfortable but did not wake.

Dick sniffled loudly and the eyes turned to him.

“I’m sorry guys, I just-” he choked; Kory and Selina hugged him by each of his sides. Kory giggled. “Don’t laugh at my expense, Kory, not cool.” She kept giggling but tried to muffle it by kissing his hair. “I still can hear it!”

“I’m going to get ready.” Announced Kory untangling herself from the double hug and turning to her parents-in-law. “Please let yourselves feel at home, and thank you so much for doing this for us.”

“You’re welcome darling.” Said Selina as they watched Kory float out of the room.

“She’s still flying.” Noticed Bruce. When Kory hit the fourth trimester – turns out half-tamaranean pregnancies were a lot longer than human ones – her feet were so swollen that she just flied everywhere. After Dick commented on that Bruce started sending soft tall pillows so, she could put her feet up, compression stockings which somehow were the exactly shade of Kory’s alien skin, and one time Dick arrived home to find a whole spa and masseuse staff that he had not booked.

“Oh, she’s not in pain anymore… She’s just happy. Can’t keep her feet on the ground. My neck is cramping from looking up so much.” But by his thrilled tone he didn’t seen annoyed by his balloon wife at all.

“Where are you taking her, honey?” Asked Selina still hugging Dick and making little circles in his back.

“Nothing very fancy. We mostly just want to have an uninterrupted meal, then walk by Byke Beach a little before coming home to save you guys. And as Kory said, thank you so much, Mar’i a sweet baby and she was all we had to worry about it would be easy peasy, but things pile up and we could use a breather.”

“It’s our pleasure, darling. Bruce and I needed a break too, and you father have missed you so much, you should see him showing the pictures you sent us to everyone, he is so proud.”

“Is that true, B?” Asked Dick beaming.

Bruce cleaned his throat loudly and then looked down to the baby terrified he had disturbed her, but she didn’t even fuss. When he looked up again Selina and Dick were looking at him with glazed eyes.

He cleaned his throat again, this time in a softer tone.

 “I can’t stop looking at her, Bruce, she’s so cute.” Said Selina perched on Mar’i crib. Dick and Kory were gone, and with the baby sleeping, Selina found out that there wasn’t actually a lot to do.

“Let the baby sleep, Selina.” Mumbled Bruce typing something on his phone, he had extracted Selina five times from the nursery in the forty minutes Dick and Kory were gone.

“What are you doing?”

Selina clenched her eyes, Bruce looked away, guilty as hell and pocketed the phone.

“You were working on your phone wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Oh my god, Bruce!”

“I wasn’t. Look.” He showed her his phone. “Tim sent me a photo of a frog in a skateboard.”

Selina’s face was completely voided of emotion for a fraction of a second before she let out a loud laugh… That was followed by baby cries.

“Shit.”

 The baby was not stopping crying. Bruce thought that she would recognise them from all the facetime calls, he was wrong. Mar’i knew that he and Selina were not her parents, and she was not happy about it.

“Is she is pain? Do you think she is in pain?”

“I don’t think so. Dick said she was in perfect health, but it’s hard to know without proper medical equipment.”

“Try feeding her again.”

Bruce took the warmed milk bottle – noticing the colour was darker than regular human milk supposed to be, it looked like light caramel. He made a mental note to take a sample to look to it in his lad later – and offered to the baby girl, but she slapped the bottle away with a strength no human six months old would have. No adult either. The bottle flew across the room and broke into the drywall.

“I’ll pay for that.”

“How don’t you know how to make a baby stop crying? You are a huge nerd, you know everything! Didn’t you raise like fifty-two kids or something?”

“They were never that young.” And to be fair, when they cried, he mostly handed them to Alfred and later Dick.

“We should call Dick.”

“No.”

“What?”

“We are solving this, Selina.”

“How?!”

Bruce took a deep breath and tried to remember everything he knew about pre-language children. He read some articles to try to communicate with Cassandra years ago, mostly applied to babies and was not useful to him at the time, but maybe it would be useful now. He recalled something about tonic dialogue, that meant the first form of communication was from touch. Basically, holding a baby while having a tense body was not good, because the baby could feel the discomfort and respond to this with distress. So, he tried to relax. Lower his heartrate. Mar’i didn’t stop crying, but her loud screaming and the fussing were gone.

“Good! Good! I don’t know what you did but it’s working.”

“Try to distract her.”

“By doing what?”

“I don’t know Selina, why do I have to know everything?”

“You are the Batman!”

“Not now, I’m not.”

“Ba mum” mumbled Mar’i between cried.

Bruce and Selina exchanged a shocked look.

“Yes, kitten. Granddaddy is Batman.”

“Ba mum!” The baby said angrily, her bluish green eyes flooded with tears.

Selina sent Bruce a terrified look. He just shook his head, also having no idea. Mar’i’s lip trembled and the crying returned with revenge.

“Hold her a little.”

“Me?!”

But before she could protest further, the baby was already in her arms, bright orange, sobbing against her shirt spreading snot and tears everywhere.

Bruce was calling someone.

“But you said you were not calling her parents!”

“I’m not. Alfred, finally, I have a predicament.”

He was silent for a while, his face rumpled in concentration, then he turned off with a “thank you”.

“What did he say?”

“Mar’i has a favourite toy. It’s a handmade Batman doll made by Damian. That’s what she mean by ‘Ba mum’.”

“I want to gush about how cute this whose sentence was but she is pulling my hair pretty hard, and I’m grieving my shirt, this was Prada’s limited edition. Let’s find that doll.”

 Half an hour later and no sign of the doll, Bruce was going mad, Selina’s head was aching, and Mar’i proved that her human-tamaranean hybrid lungs were very efficient. They fell heavily on the living room’s sofa.

“Bruce… What do we do?”

He just gave her a defeated look.

“Ba mum! Ba mum! BA MUM!”

“Oh kitten, I don’t know where your ‘Ba mum’ went.” Said Selina drying the baby’s tears then her head shot up. “I have an idea.”

“I’m willing to try anything.”

“You brought a suit, didn’t you?”

Bruce pretended not to know what she was talking about.

“I’ve brought changes of clothing, yes.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Selina…”

“So what we can’t find her doll? You are the real deal!” She said exasperated.

“That’s not what my suit if for, Selina.”

“I couldn’t care less what your suit is for” she covered the baby’s ears “we had sex plenty of times while you were in that suit don’t pretend you never abused its function before.”

He sighed.

 Two hours after Kory and Dick returned home to find Selina sleeping sitting on the sofa, Bruce in his full Batman gear also sleeping, but lying on his back and using Selina’s lap as a pillow, and Mar’i belly down on her grandfather’s chest, drool all over the bat insignia.

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

Tonic dialogue is a real thing I learnt on uni. I have no idea what the frog in a skateboard was about, I just like the idea of Bruce’s kids sending him random memes and funny pictures.

[jjba-hell]

Fate and Fortune

Part 11

Here’s Part 10 but hop on the Fate and Fortune tag for the rest

Second week of 2021 and I’m straight up not having a good time ✌︎('ω')✌︎- I hated the original piece so ended up re-writing it so uhhh good luck with this piece (really not a favorite for me)

For my moots: @fyre23 and @risottoneroo

Content warning: none in particular, just a SLEEZY Steely Dan

The tarot cards laid out before her two stacks- the ones whose stands who are known and those are not. Mr Joestar had politely asked for a reading- wondering if Hermit Purple could help him choose the card Dio’s stand held.

Vera didn’t say it quite off the bat from asking but she had her money in The World- simply because that was the end of their journey as a group was heading- to Dio. It had seemed almost poetic when thorny vines wrapped around the World card. Joseph thanks her for the reading and proceeded ahead to grab some food. So with that, she slid the deck back together and as she rose back up on her feet a quiet whisper over her ear brought her plans of walking back to the others to an abrupt end. “So- this is what Enya’s killer looks like? I suppose I have to thank you, Dio’s faith in her servitude was wavering.”

Vera craned her neck to take a look at the owner of the voice behind her- somewhat handsome if not marred by the godawful sneer plastered over his ear.

“Got some guts coming after me directly, don’t you think?”

Fortune materialized behind the man, Vera taking his moment of surprise to step out from his looming stance over her shoulder. “Got a name, jackass?”

“Dan, Steely Dan. My stand represents the lovers.” He said almost as if he expected her to know who he was. “Now that you know my name and I have most certainly heard more than my fair share about you- join me for a coffee? Just across the street.”

Vera’s scowl only seemed to worsen at the offer. “For what?”

“For taking care of Enya for me, of course. It truly does make my life so much easier.”

She didn’t trust this weasel as far as she could see him and she was convinced the others might smell something was up soon enough but until then she’d have to deal with it- maybe she could manage some information out of this bastard.

“Fine then- let’s talk.” She dematerialized Fortune back and with her hands back into her jean pockets, she followed.

Unsurprisingly two cups of coffee were already set on the table outside the shop. “How hospitable of you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you knew I was going to take your offer.”

Steely Dan brought his cup to his lips. “Rest assured, I’d never allow any harm to come over a stunning creature such as yourself.”

Vera sat back, bringing a cigarette to her lips. “I’m a bit young for you, aren’t I?” She sneered- the slight twitch in his right eye enough to get a chuckle out of her. “Besides, no matter how pretty I am, doesn’t change the fact that I am, essentially, your enemy.”

“What can I say? Birds of a feather flock together.”

She laughed, watching the others approach her from across the street. About time.

“My, my- your vanity that important to you? How about we cut to the chase, Dan? What do you want?”

Dan leaned in over his edge of the table, folding his arms in front of him. “Surely that’s an easy answer- I’m here to destroy your little group- one by one.”

Uttered just in time for the others to hear.

“And what exactly makes you so confident you stand a chance against five of us?” Polnareff was one to speak first.

The simpering laugh he have made Vera’s blood boil. This guy really thought he trumped them somehow. “Simply put, none of you can lay a hand on me.”

Vera flipped her cigarette between her fingers and pressed the hot coal into the top of his right hand. He flinched away angrily fanning his hand before balling it into a fist and swinging her way. She held her hand up to grab his wrist as a block but Star got him first- sending him....and Mr Joestar flying back.

She ran to Joseph to help him back up again- her mind running furiously to connect why he flew back? Was it a fluke?

When Mr Joestar’s breathing started laboring, her gaze shot towards Jotaro with his grip on Steely Dan.

“Jotaro, stop.”

He shot her one glance over the shoulder before relaxing his grip- Joseph’s breathing evening out a bit.

She looked up at the sleeze ball Dan and scowled- “Your stand, the lovers. You’re interconnected with it aren’t, you?”

“A good start. Doesn’t explain how Mr Joestar’s getting hurt though, does it?” He taunted.

Vera thought about it for a moment, trying to piece together why only Joseph would be targeted. It had to be a choice- he’d pick the seemingly weakest one who couldn’t take the beating.

“The niche of it I’ll yield on but it seems whatever you experience, your stand deals to your target.”

That same sickly smile spread over his lips. “Good looks and good brains- not that the latter matters very much.”

Jotaro grabbed hold of the bastard’s collar again, threatening to kill him too quick for it to hurt. Fortune’s dials moved back quietly over Joseph’s injuries- unable to revert back to the state it was in before the stand but maybe just before the punch. “So... how are you making this work, Dan?”

Somehow knowing more did nothing for her to come up with a plan but when the bastard started making a scene with Jotaro- rock in hand- she started to worry. Vera moved closer to where Jotaro had to be held back by the other two men- when Dan brought the rock up over his shoulder to swing at Jotaro’s head she simply had Fortune snatch it out of his hand.

“Tch, how primitive.” She grabbed hold of Kakyoin’s wrist, pulling him away from the scuffle. “I think you know what to do- I’ll make sure this cuck doesn’t do anything stupid.”

The corners of Kakyoin’s mouth twitched a bit before he and Joseph took off down the street- shortly followed my Polnareff.

“Oh, I see... you think you could exploit a range weakness.”

She didn’t answer, taking a moment to stand beside Jotaro whose jaw was painfully clenched.

“No matter. Since you two will be following me around for a day.” She figured he’d pull the move, fucking sleezeball. He grabbed hold of one of her belt loops and pulled her flush to his side. He threw an arm over her shoulder and started walking.

Jotaro- simmering behind them, followed. “Admittedly, you’re pretty even when you scowl but I think a smile would suit you better, wouldn’t it?”

Steely Dan’s hand wrapped around her jaw, making her look at him- the disdain on her face still evident. She figured he’d threaten her with his own pain, or rather Mr Joestar’s, so she swallowed her pride for a moment and forced a smile.

He let her go completely as they reached the drainage ditch- turning towards Jotaro to instruct him to act as the bridge. “Didn’t take you as the lazy kind, Dan. Surely a physique like yours is earned”, she tried so hard not to say the last bit but she just couldn’t resist. “Especially at your age, walking must be the best way to get that exercise in.”

Once again- the comment made his eye twitch and as penance his leg swung into the pillar. Fortune moved too quick though and moved him just enough to slip and fall on his ass.

Once again, she swallowed her pride and came to his aid- helping him back up on his feet, that sickly sweet smile plastered to her face.

“Oh come now, I’m just teasing. Nothing wrong with being just a little playful, is there?”

He squinted at her in disbelief, as he should, taking her hand regardless and walking past her to address Jotaro. “Troublesome woman- someone should have beat that out of you. It might just end up being me.”

She wrapped her hand around Jotaro’s clenched fist, just long enough for him to relax a bit until Steely Dan gave his next request.

Vera didn’t dare follow Dan, she simply phased herself to the other side of the ditch Jotaro was stretched over- a trick she knew would tip fortune out of her favor for a while but she didn’t care.

“Oh? You actually followed me?” Dan taunted as she bent down to help Jotaro into the other side and fix any of the damages he caused. She didn’t answer him though.

“Tch. Very well.”

“That fuck is going to wish he were never born.” She growled through gritted teeth. Jotaro gazed up at her, the same anger in his eyes.

His hand moved up, almost looking like it was going to cup her face but instead it moved to grab a strand of her hair.

“That move cost you.” He commented as she peered down at the grey strand. Vera was used to moving Fortune forward and back to her will but because she could only move her own forward she noticed little changes like longer nails or outgrown hair a bit too often for her to rule out that other people’s fate didn’t affect her.

The gray hair however... she suppose that was due to the shock her system had been given the past few days. “Doesn’t matter.” She rose up again, taking his hand in hers. “Come on- he’s gonna get up to something I swear.”

They followed after like obedient dogs- both Jotaro and Vera’s patience growing painfully thin. From back scratching to shoe shining- Vera stood between Jotaro and whatever onslaught of petty jabs at Jotaro he could throw. Jotaro’s torture was physical for sure but the scathing comments thrown at Vera had her fingers itch for his neck under her grip.

She angrily wrenched his hand from the hem of her jeans- gritting her teeth as she hissed. “Reach into my jeans one more fucking time and I’ll-“

“You’ll what, dollface?”

“I’ll make what I did to Enya tané in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”

“Oh is that a threat?”

“A promise, motherfucker.”

He shrugged her off, her blood boiling more with every step she has to watch him walk away. “Let me make it up to you, Vera. I’ll treat you to some jewelry...”

It was trouble from the second she stepped into the shop after him- looking at nothing in particular except the back of his neck right in front of her. When it was Jotaro holding the bracelet, it was the only time she couldn’t stop him from getting hurt.

Outside the shop he slipped a gaudy gold necklace around her neck and soon as he finished clasping the thing she phased straight out of it, letting it fall to the ground.

She only gave one look at the piece of jewelry laying on the ground and then up at him. “Suits you better, looks cheap.” Fortune moved towards Jotaro to start on his injuries- Dan thinking he could take a hit on her but once again missing poorly.

“Y’know- I can’t tell when no one’s ever used their own fists to fight their way out.” She gazed over her shoulder at him. “My dodges are slow and the fact that you can’t hit me says a lot. A bit too comfortable with your stand if you ask me.”

As if on qeue, Dan’s frown soon turned bloody. Kakyoin must’ve gotten a hit on the jackass’s stand.

Relieved, Vera reached into Jotaro’s jacket pocket for a cigarette and the notebook he’d been working on. She scribbled down the shit he’d said to her and then closed the book- handing it back to him.

“You’ll take care of this one for me, yeah?”

“You going to check up on the other three?”

“Yeah, best not avoid any brain damage your grandfather could have suffered from the extraction.”

Jotaro nodded- Dan’s begging getting louder as she walked away. She figured it best to let him handle it-moving her own fortune forward was never good and she had the right idea to do so since no sooner she turned a corner down an alleyway did a door slam open and give her a bloody nose.

BONUS:

“You can take a lot of verbal abuse, huh?”

Jotaro had muttered at her as she laid her head on his chest. The night was too young and too hot for them to be touching too much.

“And you can take a lot of physical abuse, what’s your point?”

He gave a huff, of laughter or frustration she wasn’t sure. “You shouldn’t.”

“I don’t. I just don’t deal with it the same as you.” She lifted her head a bit to get more hair out from under her head. “I’m much rather humiliate them before I just punch them.”

“Where’d you pick up that trick?”

She laughed, “Boarding school, unsurprisingly.” She put on her best British posh voice. “A lady’s hands must never draw the blood of her enemies.”she shrugged, laughing at her own impression. “So when you can’t throw hands- violence comes some other way.”

Jotaro only hummed, bringing the little ice pack they’d bought back to her. She took it and gracelessly held it against her nose which had turned violently blue the first few hours.

“I’m sorry.”

The phrase came out of the blue for her but she looked him head on regardless, “For what?”

“Dragging you along.”

She shook her head- “I’m sorry to tell you JoJo but I’m as much after saving Holy as I am avenging my parents-“

The mere word made he zone out, or just become quiet in the conversation.

So he wrapped is arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, letting the doe eyed glare in her eyes clear up a bit before starting the conversation a new.

“She’s not dealing with it well.” Kakyoin sighed, leaning against the hotel balcony railing as Jotaro smoked. “I understand why she’s doing it but I don’t think she processed what she felt back there.”

Jotaro only nodded, swallowing a heavy lump in his throat as he straightened. “She’s been acting off, I’d be lying if I said I’m worried.”

Kakyoin sighed, unfolding his arms over his chest before doing the same. “All we can do is hope that Avdol might know what to tell her.”

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-09-15

This caught me laaaate at night gosh I’m tired but I’m gonna get it outta the way so it won’t stick in my craw!  Already saw the first page, so it’s time for:

> CHAPTER 13. The Funeral

Church with chess symbols at the peaks and a Prospit/Derse or Hope/Rage split color theme on the stained glass windows.

JANE: Dearly beloved...

> (==>)

Trolls, humans, and papparazzi.  Oh, hm, this church is RATHER carapacian isn’t it?  Between the chess and the continuing Prospit-Derse themes, like how this corresponds to how they align in the incipisphere top-left to bottom-right if I recall:

(Minus the outlying orbs to the left and right for symmetry.)

That twisted pattern is interesting, and not quite a spirograph.  Is that gonna be important later?  If we’re going to get some sort of class chart later in the comic, it’d be easy for them to hint at the chart’s graphical structure subtly by dropping it places like here.

JANE: Ladies... JANE: Gentlemen... JANE: News outlets... JANE: And other valued members of the Human Nation State.

Technically true, but still odd to hear--  ...oh right, I forgot this was asshole dictator-wannabe Jane, too.

I read an interesting twitter thread recently about the intense psychological distinction between wanting to BE the best, and wanting to be TREATED like you’re the best.  Epilogues/HS^2 Jane is kind of written as a case study on the pitfalls of leaning on the latter instead of the former.

> (==>)

They brought Yiffy WITH them-!?  --Oh right.  The hostage exchange was supposed to happen here wasn’t it.

Yiffy definitely looks like a Harley-Lalonde daughter in this shot.

JANE: Gamzee Makara, High Court Jester, exalted saint of the purple veil, has left us to traverse that grand, gay carnival in the sky, where, I am told by various members of the clownly cloth, he will spend the rest of history, honking in grand tribute to the Mirthful Messiah.

SINGULAR???

Weird.  Is it because Alt!Callie “won” here?

Or is Jane just forgetting because she’s culturally used to monotheism (ironically) and is insensitive.

JANE: And my first memory of our Purple Prince, was his robust codpiece--

Wow.

> (==>)

JANE: --As he offered me his friendly support, along with the sacred blood of his brethren, the holy sacrament--

He STILL killed trolls??! (EDIT: No, a friend points out that she's talking about when she met him first in Act 6 and he tried selling bottles of troll blood to her. EDIT2: -which may be another inconsistency, since Vriska supposedly overwrote that post-retcon.)

> (==>)

It takes Jake a few seconds of puzzled eye contact before he catches exactly what it is Yiffany is tossing down. In his defense, he is distracted by his wife’s speech, which is doing the emotional equivalent of wringing him out like a wet towel, before using that towel to slap the sweaty buttocks of a large, odorous man. Even if he knows everything she’s saying is a load of horsefeathers, it does nothing for his composure to hear her heap praise on that smelly, homewrecking clown.

Bad things about Gamzee deserve to be said here, yes.

Jake wonders what she’ll say about him, at his own funeral.

Now those are some uncomfortable thoughts.

He narrows his eyes in Yiffany’s direction. She’s a lovely girl, really. He wishes he could have gotten to know her under better circumstances. He’d known she existed, of course--Jane had complained about her often enough--but they’d never had much chance to get acquainted. He rather believes her and Tavvy would have been fast friends.

Then again, perhaps it’s better that she never had much of a chance to get to know his family.

He lets go of the leash.

Yep, there’s a plan to set in motion that he’s probably already discussed with her privately.  Gotta unite this four-kid team after all.

> (==>)

Wait, are you ATTACKING?!?  --Of course you’re attacking.  You would even if the plan was something different, wouldn’t you.

JANE: And I know that at times like these it is easy to want to give in. JANE: To throw in the towel, and turn our faces away from the light of democracy and moral fortitude that we, the citizens of the human kingdom, are blessed with from birth. JANE: God knows I’ve had my own faith tested in the last few weeks.

Jesus Christ, what has she turned the place into, a fucking theocracy?

She sounds like the leader of some screwed-up, fundamentalist country!  Like the United States!

*rimshot*

JANE: As many of you know, I did not grow up with the same privileges that all of you enjoy.

Jesus.

JANE: I was born on proto-Earth, that half-finished dystopia mangled by the ravages of foolish leadership and endless war.

Jesus, she really IS a self-evident takedown of hypocritical entitled political figures.  With the bonuses having Jasprose explicitly ADDRESS said entitlement to make things even clearer cut.

JANE: And as for Gamzee, well, his upbringing was even worse. JANE: He was born to a violent and uncaring home, a lonely child with few natural gifts.

...Some natural gifts and status.

> (==>)

She’s just, shaking with fury here isn’t she?  And about to perform an impressive corpse-lob.

JANE: It would be simple to let this disgusting, vile, SHAMEFUL act of spiteful revenge turn us away from the blinding light of the sword of justice that hangs over us all--

This sentence seems suspicious so I’m quoting it to refer to later if I need to, but is probably just platitudes.

> (==>)

JANE: Poised

> (==>)

JANE: Trembling

Okay maybe the sword’s a dick, but what exactly is Yiffany doing??  I’m finding it difficult as usual to tell between some of these image transitions.

> (==>)

JANE: Ready to burst forth--

Bad PR to shock-collar a kid mid press junket.  (Very dicks description.)

> (==>)

Click.  (Did they swap the shock function with Jane’s necklace somehow, that’d be fun.)

JANE: I want to give up, at times. I understand your pain.

While shocking a kid?  GREAT PR.

> (==>)

JANE: I sympathize with your pain.

Wow, those horrified audience members.  She REALLY can’t even see herself anymore can she?  Not even hear herself.  And they’re making sure this is pointed out to EVERYONE watching.  They described this as in large part a PR campaign to defeat her, didn’t they?

> (==>)

Great furious businesswoman-villain look, that art.

JANE: But when that pain! Becomes too hard! To endure! JANE: Remember poor, lifeless Gamzee! Who suffered pain far worse than any of us could ever fathom! JANE: THE PAIN OF BETRAYAL!

Click click click.  This is a fun sequence.

> (==>)

DIRK: Dude, didn’t you lower the voltage on that shock collar? DIRK: Little Red isn’t looking so hot. JAKE: Yes of course i did but the damn doohickys got the kick of a donkey! JAKE: I couldnt remove it completely shed know i was the one who did it! DIRK: Well, if that supervillain cuntwaffle doesn’t stop, she’s going to kill her. Not really the best at hostage management, is she.

Decent plan.  (And of course Dirk would pull out the word cunt.)  When’s the cavalry coming?

> (==>)

JANE: But we cannot allow his memory to be in vain! JANE: For Gamzee Makara taught us that even the most loathsome degenerate can take their place in society. JANE: All they need is the right redemption arc - !

Trying to hammer home some of the Epilogue’s trolly-critical themes a little less bleakly, I take it.

I kind of like the violent vibration in ALL of these gifs in a row.  It makes the scene seem small, slow, teeth-clenching but still full of steady action, emphasizing the importance of the relatively small events from panel to panel while giving them the sense with the animation of them being [i]drawn out[/i] and tortuous instead of just “occurring”.  It feels that way to me, anyway.

> (==>)

If he got up alive here, that’d be hilarious.  (Presumably he’s been treated and done-up like a normal funeral body, not “dormant” and undecaying like a dead god-tier.)

> (==>)

CORPSE PUNT w/ CLEATS

> (==>)

That face is just.  I love that face.

> (==>)

SHE MAD

JANE: Young lady, I am just about at the end of my rope with you. JANE: Throw all the dog bowls you want at the walls of my warship. JANE: But don’t you dare act up in front of a JANE: Live JANE: Fucking JANE: Newsfeed! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

What did you expect to happen?  Do you expect to shout her down from this, Jane?

JANE: After everything I’ve done for you--paying for your education, helping your parents cover up your existence from the world! JANE: Just imagine what Rose and Jade would say if they could see you now, even dissidents can have a little decorum! JANE: Get down from there at once! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

But this is GAMZEE.  --I guess it’s seriously disrespectful to his followers, though.  Still.  If you wanted civility from her, a shock collar, leash, and food bowl wasn’t the way to go about it.

JANE: Don’t you threaten me, young lady. Not today! YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR

What is your PLAN even, Jane?  You’ve completely disregarded her.

JANE: There’s nowhere for you to go. My agents are swarming this church. Be reasonable, Yiffany. JANE: Ugh. JANE: Disgusting name. JANE: But that’s hardly your fault. You were always just a footnote. Your parents’ little prank. JANE: Honestly, that’s why I helped them all those years ago! I do love a good jape. JANE: But let’s be serious. JANE: You don’t matter. If you did, they would have come for you already.

Can all the press hear her being such an asshole?

Okay, stereotypically, their arrival should be the next couple panels:

> (==>)

Jake, do something useful like hoping harder.

> (==>)

And she knocks the remote away.  Excellent.

And she does. Seemingly at the end of her tolerance for insults toward her name, social status, and heritage, Yiffy performs an impressive backflip off the podium and down onto the church floor. One that, if it hadn’t been happening amidst a sea of other newsworthy events, would surely have ended up on someone’s instagram story within thirty seconds. She gives Gamzee’s corpse one last parting kick: a hard, proper kick that proves those cleats aren’t just for fashion. Although they are certainly also for fashion.

Good, good.

He vanishes into the seething crowd, and we are confident that we will never have to deal with this asshole ever again.

God damnit.

> (==>)

Jake watches this from a safe distance, poised on the edge of intervening to pull Yiffy out of there. But in the end he doesn’t have to. Instead he watches in admiration as she tears the place to utter shreds. An echoing sympathy swells inside of him as she rends apart the funeral flowers and punts Gamzee into the shrieking congregation. Here is a girl who felt the cold, indecent hand of fate wrapping around her, and instead of submitting to it and slowly sublimating down into morasse of boiled doormat, she slapped it away from her with a lively oh, no thank you.

All at once, Jake feels immense affection for his granddaughter. He hopes the two of them can make up for lost time.

Lessons belatedly learned, but learned nonetheless.

> (==>)

JANE: Enough of this. JANE: Seize her!

Kind of Red Queen of you.  (Are those stained glass windows in back of the frame about to burst?)

> (==>)

Yep.

The stained glass window shatters inward, obliterated to stardust. The war is knocking.

Even attacking a disgusting faith’s church is pretty bad form, though.

Tired and busy, seeya next upd8.  <3

[w0wcatsstuff]

Levi Fanfic

I’ve been writing a fic about my fav shorty, Levi Ackerman! It’s called ‘Treacherous’. This is the first chapter! If you’d like to read more check either of the links in my bio :3 Or I could keep posting here if you guys like it? :3 Please leave feedback, I love constructive criticism! 

Summary: Levi and Ava grew up in the underground together, until Levi left leaving Ava lost and confused with her only friend. Now, Levi is Captain Levi, humanity's best solider, and Ava is a doctor who tends to the wounded scouts and citizens inside Wall Rose. They've avoided each other until they couldn't any longer.

Lots of angst, but lots of smut and feelings eventually!

“Dr. Shaw...Dr.Shaw..AVA!” Hands abruptly shook her awake and Ava blinked her eyes open. Sunlight filled the dusty room. Her assistant, Madeline, stood in front of her, an anxious look on her face.

“What is it Madline?” She asked, rolling away from the young girl, letting her eyes shut again. Just a few more minutes of sleep, please. She was tired, she was always tired, that was the life of a doctor inside the walls. When she wasn’t treating the injured scouts she was making house calls and taking care of the sick citizens. It was her and Madeline’s responsible to keep the city healthy. 

“The scouts have returned from their mission beyond the walls. There’s going to be injuries.”

“Of course there are,” Ava grumbled. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, get the clinic ready please.”

“Of course, Ma’am,” Madeline replied and Ava listened to her walk away and the door shut.

She sighed as she sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep away from her tired eyes. Just another day. She told herself, forcing herself out of her bed. She headed to the bathroom that was connected to her private quarters and splashed her face with cold water hoping it would wash the drowsiness away. The reflection in the mirror was not her favorite. Her face was pale and dark circles were under her green eyes. When she was younger, still learning her trade, her eyes had some sort of sparkle to them, but that was years ago. She raked her fingers through her tangled brown hair, trying to tame the knots, before pulling it up into a ponytail away from her face. She headed back to her room, stripping out of her night clothes and pulling on a pair of dark pants, a light weight  grey blouse, and a simple pair of boots. The last thing she needed was her apron, which was somehow still white despite the amount of blood it would end up covered in after treating the returning scouts. How many times has Madeline replaced this without me noticing? She wondered, tying the apron behind her. 

When Ava made it down to the clinic Madeline had already finished setting things up in anticipation of the scouts that were shortly going to be arriving. Beds were made with clean sheets, their table was filled with medicines, bandages and operating tools. Hopefully we don't need those today. Most of the time their operations on returning scouts were pointless; too much blood was lost or infection had already set in their bodies for too long. Ava had given up hope on saving the wounded years ago, how could you remain hopeful after seeing dozens of people with limbs ripped off and not being able to save 80% of them? Madeline was still determined; she’d work herself to tears trying to save those clearly marked for dead. She was still young, only 17. When Ava was her age she had the same hopeful spirit. 

“They’ll be here soon,” Madeline told her, her voice shaking with nerves.

She’s too young to see this much death. Ava nodded, brushing a loose piece of hair from her eyes. “Are we prepared?”

“As much as we can be,” Madeline replied. “We’re low on antibiotics.”

“Of course we are,” Ava sighed. “The inner city wont send us anymore. They think it’s a waste to use on the scouts.”

“So do you..”

Ava arched an eyebrow looking at her assistant. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve already decided their fate before they’ve arrived. You don’t think any of them will make it,” Madeline’s dark eyes broke away from Ava’s gaze.

“I’ve treated enough returning scouts to know what to expect at this point,” Ava replied curtly. “If you really want to pursue being a doctor you should accept the reality of the situation. These aren’t our normal house calls, or treating the rich folks in the inner walls, Madeline. These are the scouts who go out and face the titans. They come back broken and in missing pieces.”

“Yes, but-” The door to the clinic burst open cutting off Madeline’s reply, which Ava was more than thankful for. 

“Doctor!” A breathless scout was in the doorway. “We have injured troops.”

“Of course,” Ava nodded at the scout, “Lets get them in here and I’ll see what I can do. Bring those with the worst injuries first.” 

The next few hours were filled with blood, and of course, death. A man without a leg who was practically dead when he hit her table. One death. A skinny female scout who’d been trampled by horses and suffering from massive internal bleeding; Ava didn’t even know how she had held on long enough to make it here alive, but she didn’t last much longer. Two deaths.  Another female scout whose ODM gear had failed and resulted in her falling from the trees, had a head injury and a broken leg was unconscious when Ava saw her. Depending on how bad her head injury was, she might survive, but again, she might not. The worst was a young man missing both a leg and an arm. Titans had ripped him apart and Ava couldn’t help but wonder how he survived at all..or didn’t get eaten. As she pulled the makeshift bandages off what remained of his limbs the stink of infection filled the clinic. Madline looked as if she was going to be sick and tears were welling in her dark eyes.

“Madline, if you need to step away,” Ava started but was cut short.

“No. I need to do this.”

“We’re going to have to amputate, to his shoulder and top of his thigh. That might save him, but we can’t tell how far the infection has spread. If it’s in his blood there’s nothing we can do without antibiotics.”

“We have antibiotics,” Madeline’s dark eyes looked up at her. 

“The ones we have aren’t strong enough, not for something like this. And I’m not willing to waste what little we have hoping for a miracle.”

“Dr. Shaw! We have to try!” The tears were back.

Dammit, she’s too soft for this.

“If he even survives the amputation, Madeline. I know we don’t have any sedatives left, the trauma alone could shock his body and kill him.”

“You’re hopeless!”

“No, I’m a doctor,” Ava snapped back, “I’ve treated injuries like this before and I’m being realistic.”

Both of their words were pointless, as the man on their operating table had stopped breathing. Now the tears broke free from Madeline’s eyes and streamed down her face. Ava sighed, pulling the white sheet over the dead scout’s face. 

“Go home, Madeline. I’ll get someone to come retrieve the dead,” Ava’s voice was emotionless. 

Madeline hurried out of the clinic without speaking another word. Four scouts brought to her and only one survived, and that one's fate wasn’t even guaranteed. Ava walked to the sink, scrubbing the blood off her stained hands. The scent of blood, death and infection still lingered in the air. The door to the clinic opened and Ava sighed.

“Madeline, I told you to go home,” She snapped.

“Dr. Shaw,” The voice sent a chill down her spine and her heart stopped for a moment.

No, it can’t be. Ava turned to face her guest, keeping her lips pressed  in a straight line. 

“Captain Levi,” She said shortly, eyeing the man standing in front of her. 

“How many survived?” His grey eyes looked around the room, stopping on the sheet covered scout.

“One,” She wiped her wet hands on her blood stained apron. “And she isn’t a guarantee. She has head trauma, I don’t know if she’ll wake up.” 

“One,” The permanent frown on his face seemed to deepened, if possible. “Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor? Why didn’t you save them?”

Ava blinked at him, trying to contain her anger. “I can’t replace torn off limbs or magically cure internal bleeding, Captain,” She snapped. “Maybe you should control your squad better and I wouldn’t have so many dead on my hands.” His eyes met hers and she could see the anger in them. Before he had the chance to reply she snapped at him again. “Have someone come get these bodies out of my clinic. I don’t want them rotting and disease to spread.”

“Doctor,” He started.

“You can leave, Captain,” She dismissed him, turning her back to Levi.

“Ava, when are you going to let this grudge of yours go?” His voice sounded softer and that only made the anger inside her grow.

“Grudge?” She laughed in disbelief, “Oh, I don’t know, Levi. When are you going to apologize for running off with your Uncle Kenny and leaving your friends behind to fend for themselves?” When she turned back to face him she thought for a moment she saw pain on his face. “And, it’s Doctor, not Ava, you lost the right to call me that a long time ago. Now, please leave my clinic.”

The pain she thought she saw on Levi’s face disappeared and he glared at her. “Of course, Doctor,” He practically spat the word before turning and leaving, slamming the door behind him.

[whitelotus-ffxiv]

willow.

[[ so many mentions of @sirenofthesea-xiv​ / @benes-diction​ !!! I LOVE THESE CHARACTERS SO MUCH I WILL CRY ]]

When I was first posted in the Jade Palace, the cherry blossoms were just coming into their fullest bloom. Now winter is on the cusp of arrival, and though I’ve never been one to be particularly sentimental... Well. It’s hard to not look back on all the events of these past few moons and think about how everything - every single solitary thing, almost - has changed. 

Aoi is strong. Aoi is strong and healthy and impish, in stark contrast to that frail girl I first met, too weak to rise easily from bed by herself. The girls that served her that were so skittish of consequence have grown spines of steel - or, rather, been inspired to show that they had them to begin with. I have watched them grow into young women that have teeth and nerve, willing - foolishly, maybe - to put themselves in harm’s way just to protect... me. To protect each other. 

This palace was built by a woman. It is matriarchs who protect it. It’s been long since overdue, even from an outsider’s perspective, that women regain control and take the reins once more. 

The creatures of myth and legend that terrorized the palace are now the ones who talk its halls, tall and strong and beautiful, back to their rightful place. I don’t know if the curse is entirely broken. I don’t know if the waters are entirely safe, if there are yet other creatures that we haven’t met yet, but... Luli, Liqin, and their families have emerged. From milky-eyed creatures that could not speak to the warriors and healers that they are, soothing and protecting in equal parts. The laughter of children fills halls that once knew only silence or screams from ‘ghosts’ or prisoners. Music floods corridors, voices that are happy and at ease, people who know, now, that they’re safer than they once were.

It doesn’t mean the danger has passed. The Jade Lord is still here. The Jade Lady needs Jun and I to help her, but... I don’t trust her. I don’t trust that she wouldn’t betray us if another, less dangerous option presented itself. The oyabun still watches, still expects me to produce something for him - whether it be the child of a siren or the prince himself. He tells me that my mission isn’t over. To keep the peace, I agree. My mission isn’t over. It’s far from over. 

It’s just that the oyabun doesn’t know that my my mission has become securing the safety of these people I’ve grown to love so dearly.

Arriving here... I thought the job would be simple enough. I would find a way to coax the Jade Prince to the compound, away from a stifling and abusive household. He’d be offered even more power, more riches, more wealth, lovers, but that plan got trashed so... quickly. From the day we met, Jun and I viewed each other as puzzle boxes that we so desperately wanted to solve. 

We were two kindred spirits - those who wished for death, who thought of it so often that it felt more like a memory - that gravitated towards each other. We danced around it. We danced around each other, sometimes literally, but mostly figuratively. And don’t believe what he says. He craved me first. He pursued me, even during the times I stubbornly refused his heart, even during the times I avoided him to keep myself safe - and to keep him safe, too, from the monster that I felt that I was. 

In sacred, darkened nights, Jun struggled to tell me the secrets of the palace, of his people - of himself. I watched him strain against a bracelet around his ankle that kept his lips sealed, choking out what we could so that I wouldn’t exist in the dark against threats bigger than myself. I leapt into battle and bore my teeth before I even knew what I was doing just to protect him. I bore scars and blood for intervening, but every pain was worth it. Every moment of ache was worth it. I would do it again. I would do it over and over and over again, just to keep my Jade Prince and Princess safe from harm, as much as I can. 

Though his scars aren’t visible to the naked eye, he showed me his, and I showed him mine. The first day we met, and we were alone - after I had snuck into his quarters - he asked me if I was afraid, and... the answer is the same. I hadn’t been afraid. Not of him. I never had been, despite all reason and better judgement. Any person with any sense would have run when they saw the webbed fingers and claws and gills he grew in the water, but I was... fascinated. I was little Sun Xiu all over again, wandering into quarters belonging to ghosts just to speak to them, just to understand. 

Maybe we gravitated towards each other because we saw each other’s darkness, and neither of us wanted to run. He saw my anger, my pain, and I saw the things that haunted him the most. I knew what he did to survive, to protect Aoi, and he saw what I did to survive, to protect Hui. Kindred spirits, from the very start, and I... I know. I know that, maybe, I should have run from this palace during the opportunities I had to do it. That stopped being an option within a sennight of me being here, though. The Jade Palace, for all of its gold and all of its rot and all of its secrets and wickedness, became a strange sort of home. 

Or, rather, its people became a home. In the cold of a lagoon filled with creatures born from myth, I was taken in. I became a daughter, a niece, a big sister, and... maybe sometimes, a mother, to Aoi. Something like it. 

Somehow, I became the prince’s princess. We were bound together by a red string, but it never felt forced. It never felt like anything but our own choice. I have gravitated towards Jun since day one, and vice versa. He knows all of me. I know all of him. There is no doubt in my mind that this where I’m meant to be.

Jun took all of my difficult ways and all of my tall, thick walls, and he tore them down. He broke every single one of the rules I had set for myself. I’m like a stray puppy that follows him, wherever it is that he goes. He is my lover, but he is my prince, too. I would follow him to the ends of this star. My siren, my Junichi, my other half - the man that I would die for, even if he’d never ask it of me. In truth... In truth, Junichi Nakamura - or Jun Amari, dealer’s choice - wrecked all of my plans. He saw a piece of me that I thought I had killed and he breathed life back into her. He wanted to know Sun Xiu, and he brought her back. 

I admit that I live in awe of him. The world bends to him like the limbs of a wllow tree. He is power and grace, the picture of control and poise, even when poison and pain is spat into his face. This was supposed to be a quick job, but Jun pulled me into his current. He whispered secrets to me and promised that I would be safe at his side. He is... the wind, and he is the sky, and he is the sea, and I am nothing but a mortal standing at the edge with bated breath, watching, filled with amazement and reverence and adoration. 

I am his lotus. He is my siren. He sees my strengths and my weaknesses and he loves me. Jun truly loves me. And I truly love him. Every breath in my lungs feels like a breath taken because of him. In a sea of nervous songs, thrumming and beating, I am his ribbon of calm - steady, poised, something to hold onto. He is my anchor. He is my mythical thing. He is... dramatic, and he is bold, and he is a horrible tease with an endless sort of hunger, but it’s for me and for me alone. Jun is brilliant. Jun is kind. He has done horrible things to survive, but... so have I. He has done things that few people could understand, not unless they were in the same line of fire as he was. 

But I understand. Just as he knows me, I know him. 

That’s my prince. That’s my man. 

I know, even though things have grown safer in our little part of the palace, that we’re far from being out of the woods. But we have allies. Our story has only just begun, but it doesn’t feel as daunting as it did the day I first arrived in this cove. And wherever Jun leads, I will follow. Wherever I lead, he will follow. 

He is the wind, and I am the willow. I bend to him of my own free will. He looks at me as his equal, or, sometimes, even above that. Foolish man.

Precious man.

I should bring him some kibi dango from the kitchens tonight.

[awkward-gay-bro]

A New League

Before the accident Seth Rollins was on top of the world and now he was stuck in this stupid hospital bed. People can say wrestling is fake all they want but these injuries are definitely real. Seth miscalculated a jump during a table ladder chair match and things weren’t looking good. He broke a few bones, pulled a few muscles, a little internal bleeding. Nothing he hadn’t done before. But some news station took it a little too seriously. Then twitter mobbed about it. And now the WWE is taking it way too seriously trying to cover their asses. 

Seth leans up in his hospital bed as Vince McMahon walks into the room. “How bad is it Seth?”

“The doctor said I’m never going to be able to wrestle again. He’s full of shit, though. I’ll be back in the ring in no time.” 

“We can’t do that Seth, not with you in this condition. Your injuries were pretty well documented, and we aren’t going to take the bad publicity if you get hurt further,” Vince said rather coldly. 

“Ten years. I’ve been wrestling for ten years and you are just gonna cut me loose? There are people a decade older than me that are way more worn out still going at it. I’m not ready to be done.” Seth wasn’t about to give up. This was his life and he wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.

“I’m sorry, Seth. Their injuries didn’t make the five o clock news the way yours did,” McMahon said, turning around to leave the room. 

The reality of the situation was really starting to sink into Seth. He stared down at his multiple casts, his hair falling down into his eyes, and with a hint of begging in his voice, he said, “Mr. McMahon, I’ll do anything.”

Stopping in the doorway, turning just his head, McMahon said, “Well, there is one thing we could try. You may not want to go through with it.”

“What is it?”

“Well, we’ve been funding a medical research center who has been doing some interesting things when it comes to physical therapy. We wanted to find a way to speed up the healing process or even better prevent the need for one.”

“Did you find one?” Seth said as the light returned to his face.

“Well they have created a process, and they’ve had some success in their initial trials. Of course, the last few of your peers they tried it on had some pretty severe side effects.” But none of that mattered. All that mattered was that Seth Rollins was going to get out of this hospital bed and back in that ring. 

“I don’t care what the side effects are. I’m in. As soon as I can.”

“Alright, well let’s get it scheduled on the book. How does tomorrow sound?”

It was the morning after the procedure and Seth was laying in a bed in the research center. Another day, another hospital bed. Seth wiped the sleep out of his eyes, stretched his arms out wide, and yawned a massive yawn. That’s when it him. The aches and pains from his recent injury were completely gone. Hell, the longer persisting ache from his old knee injury, from his previously torn ACL, everything, they were all gone. He hadn’t felt this good since he was 18 years old. 

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Vince McMahon was standing at the foot of his bed while a young guy who must have been with the research company started jotting things down on a chart. As the man left the room Seth couldn’t help but notice how nicely the scrubs hugged the guy’s perky little...

Woah, that’s not a thought Seth had ever had before. Nothing wrong with it. He’d caught that closet case Ambrose checking him out in the locker room and it never bothered him. But he definitely wasn’t the one having doing the checking. 

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling great Mr. McMahon. Does my voice sound weird to you? Never mind, doesn’t matter. I feel so great I think I could get back in the ring tomorrow!” Seth said, speaking a mile a minute. 

“Slow your roll there Rollins. You’re going to notice a few changes, so I thought it would be best if I was here to talk you through them all. Some might have already become apparent to you...others might take a little time.”

“Hey the only change I care about is how strong I feel right now.”

“Well Seth, strong might not be a word I would use to describe you anymore,” Vince said with a snide chuckle.

“What is that supposed to mean? I feel better now than I’ve ever felt in my life!” Seth excitedly shouted.

“Maybe it would best if I showed you,” McMahon said. As the 74 year man walked closer towards him Seth started to notice how much bigger and bulkier he was looking than usual. Vince kept in great shape for his age but damn he was looking huge. 

“How long was out for? The gains you’ve got...that had to have taken months,” Seth said as Vince reached down and grabbed his hand. Vince’s hand was massive, too, it was almost twice the size of Seth’s. How was that even possible?

“The initial procedure only took about an hour. Everything else happened while you slept last night.” That couldn’t be right though. Vince was huge. And as Seth stood up he saw just how huge he was. Seth and Vince were the same height of 6 ft 1 but Seth wasn’t looking into McMahon’s eyes anymore. In fact, Seth’s eye line was now level with McMahon’s nipples. 

“Holy shit McMahon, did you have them do something to you? You’re massive. Can they do it to me, too?” Seth said excitedly. What ever made McMahon so huge he wanted in. Shit, was he already going to grow huge? McMahon said some changes may not be apparent yet. 

“I’ve never gone through the procedure, Seth,” guiding Seth to the other part of the room. As he did the cute male nurse from earlier came back into the room, fiddling with something in the closet. From a laying position Seth hadn’t noticed how tall he was either. No wonder those scrubs were so tight around his ass, it must be hard to find ones that fit right. 

“Excuse me sir, how tall are you?” Seth asked, ignoring the part of his brain that was ogling the equally tight front of the guy’s scrubs. 

“Oh, I’m just over five nine,” he said as he pulled a full length mirror out of the closet. 

“That’s impossible, I’m six...” Seth started to say as his new reality started to piece together. Standing there, mouth aghast, Seth finally realized what those side effects were. Seth was a runt. It looked like he had deflated in on himself. He was tiny. His head didn’t reach the top of the mirror. He had to be around five foot four. Being short would be one thing. He could live with short. But he was a twig. His once broad shoulders were now slimmer than this hips. His veiny, hairy, muscular arms were now half the size of what he was used to. When he squinted his eyes he could see there was still a peach fuzz of hair coating them, albeit light, blonde, and sparse. He was just glad that his shapeless hospital gown was sparing him the embarrassment of knowing what the rest of his body looked like. 

Not that his face was any better. His signature scruffy beard was completely gone. His face was smooth for the first time since puberty. His once rugged jaw and manly features had softened into an almost angelic visage. His already long hair looked fuller and fluffier on this shrunken body. His lips were full and rosy and his eyes were the only thing on his body that looked bigger. Well, that was until he turned around to see why the cold air was coming through his hospital gown. 

Seth had always had a nice muscular ass. He’d seen enough pictures of it pop up online. But while the rest of his body shrunk it looked like he lost no muscle mass from his disproportionate globes and gained a small layer of fat. The globes defied gravity the way the stood up like a shelf on his lithe new frame. 

“We don’t want you exhausting too much energy just yet, let’s get you back to bed,” said the male nurse as put his arm around Seth’s hip and guided him back to bed. As the nurse moved Seth across the room his hand brushed against Seth’s cheek which caused both to jiggle far longer than Seth thought they should. Oddly the feeling of another man’s hand on his ass made his wood spring to attention. Seth immediately blushed red as he knew a hospital gown wasn’t going to hide anything and then blushed even harder when he realized it did. 

“How...how could you do this to me?” Seth asked, whimpering.

“I told you there were side effects. You said you would do anything,” Vince said, looking down at the much smaller man. 

“I said I would do anything to wrestle again. How am I supposed to wrestle like this? I’m ruined,” Seth said, tears in his eyes.

“Well you can’t wrestle in the WWE that’s for sure. Hell, Trish could take you down with one hand behind her back. But you can still wrestle,” Vince said, stifling back laughter as he did. 

“Where are on Earth could I wrestle like this?”

“Well like I said, you weren’t the first person to go through the procedure. And with results like these you won’t be the last. Hell, we’ve already made deals with other sports organizations for their injured athletes. The NFL. The NHL. FIFA. Hell even the ATP. And all those athletes are going to want to work somewhere. Soon enough we will have a whole new league for you to wrestle in. Of course, you’ll need a more fitting stage name and costume. Here, I brought someone along to illustrate the look I am going for,” with that Vince stepped out of the room and quickly came back in his arm around a tiny little twink of a man with long curling red hair. The boy had porcelain white skin that was coated with the lightest dusting of freckles from his face down towards under his shirt. His lips were a rosy red made all the brighter contrasted against his snowy skin. His eyes were sparkling an emerald green while his red eye lashes softly fluttered as his wavy curls fell in front of his face.  

“This is one of our first wrestlers in our new league, you may know him as...”

“Sheamus??? Is that Sheamus?”  Seth interrupted. The boy looked nothing like he 6ft4in brick of muscle but no one had seen the behemoth since he’d had an injury not unlike Seth’s own.

“We call him Lucky now. Lucky, why don’t you step into the bathroom and switch into your wrestling uniform?” With one hand Vince picked up Sheamus’ bag and wrapped his other around the slim of his waste. Sheamus could have easily carried it himself or found the bathroom in the small room but Vince loved showing these former monsters of muscle just how small and weak they’d become. 

After a few minutes the new “Lucky” walked out of the bathroom. It was obviously a leprachaun play on the wrestler’s Irish heritage that fit a lot better now that he’d lost over a foot in height. Lucky’s costume had a small little leprachaun hat with an emerald green bowtie. The sparkly green booty shorts rode up showing off the amazing pair of globes on Sheamus’ new body. Sheamus turned around and touched his toes, showing off the glittery gold “LUCKY” that was written across his rear. Seth was used to wrestler’s not wearing much, a pair of black trunks was Sheamus’ old outfit, but this little Leprachaun costume was so much more demeaning...more sexual. Seth had to admit, Sheamus did look pretty sexy standing there, though. Part of him wanted to tear those shorts off and help Sheamus get lucky. But he was realizing a bigger part wanted the old Sheamus to do the same to him. 

“We’ve already got athletes lined up to join the program, some pretty big A-Listers who don’t know the exact side effects that come along with our procedure. But until they are ready we think that you and Lucky will be our head line act. And don’t worry, we’ll still have theme matches like in the WWE. Maybe not table ladder chair matches, but I’m sure tag team will still be popular. Maybe something with oil.” Vince said, his mouth watering while looking at Sheamus who still had not broken his toe touching pose. “Sorry, I trailed off. We will need a new outfit for you. A new stage name if you’d like. I am actually prone to you staying Seth Rollins. And I always loved your leather get up, we could definitely still work with that in this new ring. Maybe a leather fishnet combo.”

Shit. Everything was spiraling so quickly. Seth just needed to breathe. He needed to be away from everyone. “When can I go home?”  

“We find it best if people aren’t alone right after the procedure,” the male nurse said, “There are a lot of things that are going to be different for you now and it’s best to have someone there with you”

“I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Not right now. I can’t deal with”

McMahon interupted him, “You’re alright. We have already set up accomdations for you. Go get dressed your new roommate is waiting out in the lobby for you.”

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

The clothe’s Mr. McMahon provided were embarassing as helll but none of Seth’s clothes fit anymore and he didn’t want to keep walking around with his giant new ass jiggling in the wind so it was that or nothing. So there Seth was in a light pink crop top that showed off just how slim his arms and stomach were now. The leather leggings he was wearing reminded him of his normal wrestling attire, albeit they used to bulge more in the front and a heall of a lot less in the back. The only solice he had was that the lacey pink panties were skimpy enough that the leather pants hid them perfectly. 

“Damn that ass looks good,” Seth heard a man say, his voice low and sultry. As he turned around to hear the voice a hand spanks his ass hard, “That jiggle, too! I am so glad I volunteered for this.”

There stood Dean Ambrose. Now a foot taller than Seth and a hundred pounds heavier. Everyone looked big to Seth now, but this was the first time he felt truly intimidated by another man. “Let’s you and me get home Sethy, there’s some things I want to show. I’m pretty minimilistic so I do only have the one bed, but I don’t think you’ll mind sharing, will ya bud?”

“No,” Seth said, drooling as he looked up at he muscular man in front of him. 

“Arlight, nice. Once we settle in, you can meet some of your new competition."