#sorry ginger li-an still dies

[water-to-drink]

If Only I Can Turn Back Time

(Pairing): Zhongli x gn!reader x Childe (separate)

(Synopsis): After taking the life of his lover thousands of years ago, Zhongli finds your current incarnation with another lover

(Tags/Warnings): Angst no comfort, blood, pet names (sunshine, darling, & babe), non consensual touching, not beta read (wrote this instead of sleeping), might feel rushed, (if I missed something lmk)

(Word Count): 1.1k

(A/n): It’s sad bitch hours folks

𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍

“Morax…? Why?” You gurgled due to your blood coming up to your mouth due to the gaping hole in your stomach

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, but I told you I would do anything for my people.” The god you used to call your lover replied coldly

You grit your teeth to say something to the stone god, but you decide against it instead opting to let tears run down your face as your vision gradually fades

The mystery of what you were originally planning on being your last words still plagues Morax to this day, in his new life stepping down from his role as archon and living the rest of his days as the mortal known as Zhongli. Were your final words going to declarations of love or hatred? He wouldn’t blame you if it was the latter, he would hate himself too

For years he tried to justify it by telling himself that it was the best for his people, but after the years of self reflection he realized it was only to protect himself. Truly thinking that if you died by his hands then it would save him from the heart break Osial’s betrayal caused him

Letting his paranoia get the best of him after Osial’s betrayal and Guizhong’s death he killed the last pillar holding up his life

“Hey! Are you listening?” The familiar voice of a ginger haired man brought Zhongli out of his bout of self-loathing

“Oh, I’m sorry. Please continue.”

“As I was saying my amazing wonderful beautiful fiancé is coming to Liyue!” Childe smiled and continued. “Their boat is arriving today and I’m so excited, I wish to have them in my arms and listen to talk!”

Zhongli sipped his tea as the young man continued to gust about you and how much he misses you. Reuniting with your lover is beautiful thing, he remembers the times where you would run into his loving embrace. Spinning you in his arms, hearing your melodic laughter, seeing your precious smiling face, feeling the softness of your lips. Sweet memories that will always be close to his heart

“Ah! Their boat is arriving now!” Childe looked at his watch and quickly ran down to the harbor, leaving his tea on the table. From his seat he spotted the distinctive mop of ginger running to the docks as a boat arrives to port

Though he is not a nosey person, Zhongli couldn’t help himself to hone his hearing onto Childe. Who is this person that captured the bloodthirsty man’s heart and made him giddy like a schoolboy? His curiosity was peaked

“Sunshine!”

“Gingersnap!” A familiar voice rings throughout the dragon’s ears

Hesitantly turning his head he sees a sight that he thought he would never see again. There you are, walking and talking like how you used to before the war. Even the smile he vividly remembers is still the same, only that it’s made for someone else

The Harbinger you’re currently hugging

Still in a state of shock Zhongli didn’t register that you and Childe were making your way up the stairs, until the both of you were right in front of him

“As I told you before, this is my fiancé (Y/N).” Childe introduced

Your name was different but still beautifully matched you, a name he wouldn’t dare shorten it to a nickname. A name that every syllable should be worthship whenever it rolls off his tongue

“Zhongli, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Pleased to meet you, Tartaglia has told me a lot about you.”

As the days progressed he got to learn more about this current incarnation of you, there were many things that remained the same yet, some things different. Learning about your new likes felt like he was falling in love with you all over again

“You know Zhongli, it feels like I known you for a long time.” You mention offhandedly

Oh how much he wants to hold your hand and tell you it’s because the two of you were lovers in the past. To beg for forgiveness for what he did to you and promise that he would devote his entire existence to protecting you

Despite priding himself on his patience Zhongli feels it wearing thin with each pasting second. There’s a constant conflict going on inside of him, one side wanting to leave you alone and let you enjoy your new life and the other side wanting you to remember the time where the two of you were lovers. It feels like a kettle that’s about to explode

“Goodbye, Zhongli.” You said, heartbreakingly similar to the way you said your last goodbye to him

Against his better judgement he reaches towards you and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace

“H-hey! Let go of me!” You said as you struggled against his grip

“Please. Please, remember.” He uncharacteristically pleaded as he began to use some Adeptal magic on you to share some of memories with you

Memories of your first time meeting, your conversations that would last til the sun sets, him confessing his feelings to you, your first time being intimate with each other. Every memory that he has involving you being shared, from the first moment to the last

Slowly you stopped struggling against him and he releases you from his grip. You pushed him away and turned to face him, your eyes had a glint of recollection yet confliction to them signaling that your old memories are flooding back into your mind

“Morax…”

“Darling.” Zhongli whispers as he opens his arms and slowly approaches you

Extending your arm out you stop the former archon from coming closer

He wanted to asked what was wrong but the look of betrayal on your face, the same expression you wore the day he used his spear to strike you down, told him everything that he needed to know

You don’t love him like you did before

Rapid footsteps alerted the two of you to the upcoming presence of another. A mop of orange hair pops up before the harbinger makes his way up the stairs and kisses you on the cheek

“Hey babe, is something the matter?” Childe asked, sensing the tension between the two of you

“Oh I was just saying goodbye to Mr. Zhongli.” You stated with a smile to your lover

Heartbroken he watched as the two of you walked down the stairs, your words getting out of ear shot

You turned to glance at your former lover one last time before returning your attention to the young man

[3cremepie3]

Frosty

Riddle Rosehearts x Gender Neutral reader

Sypnopsis- Riddle is taken captive by your love and does something out of character for himself as you make love in the rose maze.

Warnings - Smut 18+, head given, virginity loss, unprotected sex, creampie

A/n - I said I wasn’t gonna write for twst but I lied. lol sorry reblog are appreciated!!

If you told riddle he would be making love in the snowscapes of the rose maze he would've spit his piping hot tea in your face and died of laughter. It was hardly believable considering the type of strict person he was.

But he just couldn't resist your advances. Of course, he was a teen with hormones but before you he never acted on them. Making sure to use his hand only when absolutely necessary. You turned him into mush. Which is why he caved when as soon as you offered to fuck him fully for the first time.

You whispered sweet romances at an early Christmas party of all places and before he knew it you, he was on his knees pleasuring your heat. His tongue which you had trained worked upon your most sensitive bits. Even though no one was sure to be out in mazes you still held back your moans.

Eventually someone would notice that the two of you were gone. But for now, your hands wrapped in his short ginger roots and tugged harshly. You needed to feel him deeper. He grunted as you brought his even further into your heat.

He could hardly breathe his face flushed and messy with your juices that poured so heavily upon his tongue. Your back arched off the cold wet bench and he had to use all his might to hold you down. You drew blood from biting your lip so hard.

'You taste exquisite darling," he groaned. You rubbed the side of his cheek lovingly since you were too breathless to speak. Riddle had brought you to the edge before, but never did he act like such a starved man. Tonight was different he was preparing your hole for himself.

Your body began to shake getting intense shocks from your upcoming orgasm. The cold didn't matter to you anymore his love making you feel warmer than ever. In fact, your hands hiked up your shirt to begin toying with your nipples. Riddle swore you were trying to kill him.

Your actions looked so sinful against the pure white snow. Unlike you it was untouched while you were used and dripping all for him. He watched you come undone amazed at how your body contrasted the atmosphere.

Your body spasmed as riddle sat up removing his dick from his pants. He kept all his clothes on to embarrassed to strip down. Ironic since you were now about to take all of him. But he got in his own head to much at times. "You ready," you asked. "Remember we don't have to rush baby I'll be happy to wait," You admit.

Your words seem honest, but he can see how your body is betraying you. Your legs spreading opening naturally and your hole puckering. He could see that you were ready for him and although he wasn't sure of himself, he moved forward.

He entered in you slowly his eyes shutting tightly while doing so. You grabbed his hands entangling them in yours. As he bottomed out his thighs hit the stone bench you laid back on. He fell forward capturing your lips in his. Your kiss gave him all the reassurance he needed to continue as you moaned into it.

"Doing so good baby," you cooed. He couldn't help but give your face a delighted peck. His hips began to set a slow pace almost painful for you who just wanted to feel him drill you. But you had patience since it was his first time. "Ah love you."He whispered into the crook of your neck.

You let out a small giggle "you're so cute baby I love you too." Your eyes met each other's as he grew more frantic. He wanted to give this his all as though it was like him being a try hard like in most of his studies. Your legs were lifted to his shoulders allowing him further into your depths. "Thank you for loving me," mumbled.

"Riddle you're being so silly are you delirious," you questioned. He was "pussy/bussy" whipped for you. "No, I'm serious," he squeaked. His voice cracked pathetically you can tell he was struggling to hold out. "Love you so much, so so much, so much," he ranted.

You two were completely lost in the moment ignoring everything going on around you. The only thing that mattered in your universe was him which is what made it all the more special as he spilled his seed inside of you.

It was unexpected as he muttered apologies over and over but still your legs wrapped around his thin torso keeping all his love inside of you.

[mandysxmuses]

(( could you go more into the color symbolism of your Keeper characters? as in, why certain colors were chosen for them? ))

//OH BOI, absolutely

With Emma, the answer might be a little disappointing but it really was a matter of the stereotype of girls liking pink, there isn't really much deeper symbolism there. She just likes pink, just thinks it's neat, though as she got older she wore a bit more purples and was canonically wearing a lavender dress when she died

and the purple there had nothing deeper either she just. thought it was neat

That being said, her having ginger hair like Trost might be the best hit for symbolism since it could symbolize how he was the caretaker she was the closest to and the way they were both connected to the tragedy

and with most of the others, I can really put my tinfoil hat on and draw all the red lines. ... about characters I created.

Ok so Niemand/Tulpen's main color has always been yellow. As the certified main helper character -- wait crap

SORRY ALWAYS FORGET HOW TO SPELL THAT WORD. as the deuteragonist I wanted to make sure he had a bright, hopeful color associated with him and that it was unmistakable. From the very first concept he was supposed to be the one helping MC out of the bad scary place, so it was both important to have a color they could easily pick out in any environment while also not having it clash with my vision of who he is as a character.

And despite everything he is still one of the most innocent and childlike characters in the Void, which I think yellow is a great representation for, just childlike warmth and innocence

also

help. what did I do wrong

Jemand, similarly, is one of those characters I've had in mind from the very get-go so I've had a while to solidify his design and personality

Black-and-white is deeply embedded in the character. Even his spirit, which along with the others' is supposed to look like a cloud, still follows a strict checkered color-scheme and it's a cloud, boi is defying physics for his aesthetic and we should love that for him. We should be jealous, honestly, and feel bad about ourselves to not have that.

But not getting into how great he is and how awful we are, since he can do that himself...

Jemand is one of the only characters who can, and is the only one who DOES, choose to appear in grayscale. He can make his entire body look like it's showing up through a black and white filter, and while I don't bring it up often while writing him, he usually looks like that unless he's in an environment where that sort of thing would bring on too much confusion for his safety (ex. Earth).

And I think there is a strong symbolic importance to that.

It's important to note that during his performances and concerts, despite remaining in grayscale, Jemand's shows are some of the most dramatic and bombastic explosions of color you'll see. They are over-the-top and beautiful, and he really goes out of his way to make sure they're incredible to any audience.

But there is something deeper to those performances. Anyone close enough to Jemand will have him admit at some point that despite the parties and shows, he feels empty. He not only feels like people only appreciate him if they see something so surface-level, but that's all they CAN do because who he actually is would be so unlikable they'd leave if he showed anything real.

And while that's already complicated, and while it would be understandable since Jemand truly has done some horrific things, these sorts of feelings have been stewing even since Emma was alive. It's something that goes to the core of his character.

But that's another thing the black-and-white can symbolize.. it's technically a form of deception. If there's one thing about Jemand, it's that he constantly lies. He can do so effortlessly and without even thinking about it. He paints a black-and-white view of the world where he's an innocent who can do no wrong and everyone else is the bad guy, and sometimes he lies when there isn't even any need to do so for his own self-preservation. I think the checkered motif can symbolize a blinkered view on behalf of whoever only has his deceptive words to go by.

And while I did want to do this in chronological order, just for Renee I'll break the pattern like she breaks spines, because the black-and-white motif also carries over to her, and for a similar reason.

I mean obviously she's not a shameless liar but she does have an extremely black-and-white sort of way of thinking. "You are a bad person, you are a good person", etc. etc. she thinks in strict dichotomies, no nuance. And while it is very understandable with what she's been through, this "one side or the other" perspective is preventing the recovery of the boys she claims to want. Similarly to Jemand, she'll think of any and every of her own actions in the most charitable light possible, and try to justify any and every abuse to the people she hates.

... I guess I don't need to explain the symbolism of her other main color being red mksaldmd

BUT SHE DOES ALSO HAVE GOLD, she both wears gold jewelry and her office building has some gold highlights inside

Which I think could symbolize her somewhat holy/religious nature, being literally empowered by the spirits of dead humans

ALRIGHT BACK TO TRYING TO DO THIS CHRONOLOGICALLY

(lmao I messed it up from the get-go by putting Niemand before Jemand)

Laut's color is purple, and this is typically a color symbolic of royalty and wealth and... well. Laut is the only one who puts any form of emphasis on wealth and even exhibits some forms of classism (and the only reason this DOESN'T make him look like a complete tool is because he doesn't actually know what wealth or an economy even is or anything)

But yes, he is a very pompous uppity "high class" man, who wants to present himself with an air of regal superiority, so purple really suits him

and he wears a purple SUIT hahaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

TODDIIIEEEEEEE

(ngl I think it's funny how that literally started as Schatz's nickname for him that he hates, and then some of his ships were like "I'm gonna call u that" and he's like "omg I love that name..........")

anywho

while Toddie's bright orange hair is the first thing most people would notice about him, he kind of has the most basic look of everyone of the Void, just dressing in brown sweats and sometimes not even wearing shoes

And while the orange could be said to have symbolic meanings to his character and is technically his "main" color, the brown, to me, holds a lot more to him. It's a color that doesn't match his spirit yet he chooses to wear it.

He deliberately goes without bathing or other forms of hygiene as a form of self-harm. He doesn't want to be friendly, he doesn't want people near him. He wants (or at least thinks he wants) to be repulsive.

But given that orange is a color that has symbolized warm feelings and optimism and happiness, I do think that does hold some truth to who Todd was, and who he could still be even if he's convinced he can't

and while there technically are a lot more characters I could get into the weeds on this is actually already getting really long so

I PROMISE I'LL GIVE A PART 2

[shadowsshowdown]

Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 50

The Truce.

Berlin. Year 2010. When Laura opened her eyes, Joe was sitting in the armchair next to the bed, checking the order forms. "Making sure I don't escape?" she muttered with a yawn. "I already told you you were a guest. I was waiting for you to wake up. I wanted to... talk," he explained putting the cards into an even stack. "You're partially right. I was afraid you'd run away, but I didn't guard you." "You were afraid?" she asked surprised, raising an eyebrow. She rolled over onto her left side, resting her head on a bent arm. "You don't even know me." "Look, we ended our last night's conversation the wrong way. I don't want you to leave here in an atmosphere of anger. It's just that opening night is something special for me, a moment of remembrance. Neither Toby nor I have told you about it. I always lock myself in my room then and spend time alone." "This time did you forget to lock the door because of me or did you subconsciously want me to come in?" "I don't know." "Let me tell you something. No one should suffer in solitude. Therefore let me be with you then. I can sit quietly." Joe smiled slightly. "We'll try it next time." "And one more thing. I'm staying here." "And your parents? They're probably worried." "They died in a car accident. I, unfortunately, survived." "Sorry, I didn't know."

"You can't read minds. It's understandable you don't know."

This was what she had hoped for, that she could enjoy this illusory closeness to Joe, hidden in the scent that permeated the fabric deeply. When he left, she took a solid shower and washed her hair. Wrapped in a towel, she walked over to the dresser, slid open a drawer and selected one of his purple t-shirts and boxers, which she clipped together with a safety pin found in her bag. Eventually, he offered his clothes himself. She left the room with the intention of looking for something to eat and looking around the club. By chance, she heard the conversation that was just going on in the corridor.

"I see you've taken a liking to Laura," Toby stated while picking up the forms. "You could say that. She seems quite nice," Joe replied. "I sense some unspoken 'but'," remarked the bartender. Aug sighed. "Well, those fancy earrings in her ears I can put up with, but the one in her nose I can't and then there's that chain. If that boy had pulled on it yesterday. It would have torn her nose and ear." "She's just a child, she'll find out after a while that it doesn't suit her," Toby assured him. "Maybe she'll change her hair colour and hairstyle in the process," he muttered. "You're too picky. After all, she's not your girlfriend." "And she won't be." Laura turned on her heel and ran into the room. They saw the kid in her, especially Joe. She didn't know why she cared so much about his opinion, but as soon as she returned she immediately removed all her earrings and went to the bathroom. She started looking for scissors but only found a razor blade. Looking in the mirror with tears in her eyes, she cut more strands of hair that fell into the sink. She wanted him to appreciate her, to say she was pretty. Despite her efforts, she looked even worse than before, and she didn't notice she had cut her finger and smeared her cheek with blood. She sat against the wall wrapping bent legs, bursting out crying. "Laura? Are you here?" She ignored Joe's voice coming from the room. She hoped he would go away, acknowledge she had left. "Here you are. I thought..." He broke off, seeing the hair in the sink and the girl sitting on the ground. He scolded himself in his mind, realizing she had heard everything. He should be more careful. Even if he doesn't like her looks, making such comments is inappropriate. "Why did you do that?" he asked sitting down next to her. "I'm ugly, aren't I?" she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. "I'm the one who's old and stupid," he replied, uncovering her face. "I shouldn't say that." "You're not old," she uttered. Joe managed to smile. "I'm twenty-four years old. You still think I'm not old?" "Still. I'm almost seventeen, and act like a child." "Being a child is a luxury, you should enjoy it as long as you can." "I don't want to be treated like that." Not by you. "So you need to grow up, start thinking, then acting and taking responsibility for your actions." His voice was rough and stern like a father lecturing his child. Laura sighed loudly. "Don't sigh just take action."

Joe was cruel, and she had hoped for something completely different. She saw him as someone he wasn't.

"I'll start by cleaning up," she muttered and walked over to the sink. "I'll go make breakfast. I'll call you when it's ready." Laura washed the blood off her face and bandaged her cut finger. About a quarter of an hour later Toby came in. She already knew that Joe was avoiding her for some reason, so she didn't want to stand in his way. She ate her fried egg with bacon and toast as slowly as she could while she waited for them both to leave the kitchen. When they were out of sight, she started searching through the cupboards. Fortunately, she found everything she needed to carry out her plan. No one looked into the kitchen for the next hour, so she had time before anyone noticed. It was late afternoon when Joe and Toby returned to the living area. DJ saw a plate with kanelbulle piled on it. It wasn't hard for him to guess that Laura had baked them, so he didn't hesitate to treat himself. The bartender also let himself be tempted. "Joe, there's a card here," he remarked when they were halfway through eating.

"Let me see. Maybe I accidentally left a form," he replied, unfolding the piece of paper.

"Thanks for everything but you're better off without me. L" DJ choked on another bite so hard that Toby had to pat him on the back several times. Kanelbulle suddenly became bitter, so he reached into his trouser pocket for cigarettes and a lighter. "You just let her walk away like that? That's not like you," the bartender commented. "She's..." He wanted to say 'grown up' but both in age and behaviour she wasn't. "Laura is entitled to her own decisions." Toby snorted and shook his head at hearing these ridiculous explanations. He wanted very much to say something cruel to him but restrained that intention. "Don't make the same mistake a second time," he said and left.

  The streets of Berlin.

Laura felt the cold penetrate her thoroughly. She was wearing only a cotton hoodie with a shirt underneath and worn-out trousers. In the blink of an eye, the rain had turned into thick snow, so she hid in the depths of a side alley, hoping not to run into that bunch of idiots again. She sat on a pile of rubbish bags, cringing to retain as much warmth as possible. The suffocating stench of decaying food made her feel like throwing up, but she had to endure. Time passed and with it her hope for survival dwindled, shrinking to the size of a thread, then a hair. The girl struggled to keep herself from closing her eyes. The image was blurring into greyish patches, she could barely move her fingers. The lantern lighting up was the last thing she saw. The night embraced her tenderly, welcoming her into eternity. She flew through the darkness, beyond time, slightly in stillness, carried by an indefinable force that did not belong to her. Then she drowned in the oriental, spicy scent of ginger. If this is what death looks like, she could die without end. Accelerated heartbeat, hot breath, reached her with fragments of sensations. Everything and nothing at the same time tallied up. She fell as lightly and gently into the cold, which changed into warmth in a split second. "...oby ...ring th... therm...ore. Hur... up!" Slowly she moved her toe, wanting to open her eyes but couldn't manage to do it. "You... ...ot ...ere ju... in ...me." "Hea... rhyt… ...etur… to ...rmal. Stay ...ith us Laura!" Inhale, exhale. Light begins to reach under the eyelids. It irritates the eyes, is intrusive and merciless. A blurry face leans in, a hand touches her forehead. "She has a high temperature. Prepare an injection." The sting was something that snapped her out of this strange state of suspension. It brought her down to earth with an intense thump. "Is that you, Joe?" she said barely audibly with lips dried and cracked from the cold. He wanted to yell at her, to say what he thought about all this. "I'm here. You'll feel better soon," he assured her with fatherly concern. "Why..." "Rest," he interrupted her more because he didn't want to explain. He left shortly after Toby returned, carrying an intravenous line with him. Laura rolled onto her side. "Hey, turn around for a second. I need to insert a needle, and don't want to sting you more than once," he said setting the stand by the bed. "I don't want to," she muttered. "No one asked him to look for me." "You really don't understand why he did it?" "Because he's stupid." Toby sighed. The girl did indeed have a difficult character. "He cares more than you think." "A-ha," she snarled. The bartender didn't have the strength to fight her, nor could he find an argument to convince her. "All right, if that's the way you want it let's..." He was interrupted by the hiss of the door opening, he looked to his left and saw Joe carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming broth. DJ nodded to him suggestively so he left. "Get out of here," she growled warningly like a cat ready to attack. He felt like telling her that he was actually at his place so she should be the one to get lost, but stooping to her level was a bad idea. He set the tray on the nightstand, moved the armchair near the bed and sat down. He found the secured needle from the intravenous line and then grabbed Laura's hand. She wanted to jerk it away, so badly with all her strength and from the depths of her soul but she couldn't. Joe's touch overpowered her. She didn't even feel it when the needle penetrated her skin. The man took the bowl and scooped up a spoonful of soup. "Now eat. You need to build up your strength. I propose for the grumpy, unfriendly, Joe." The girl looked at him for the first time since she regained consciousness. On the surface, he looked like an older brother caring for his sick sister, but there was something strange about him as if conflicting thoughts and emotions were fighting each other. Joe put down the empty bowl and rubbed his temples. "You said I was no prisoner, yet you brought me here. To the place, I left voluntarily." "To a place from which you fled for a reason unknown to me." "I left," she persisted. "If you had, you would have at least come to say goodbye in person instead of leaving a note," there was clearly a hint of regret in his voice directed sharply in her direction. "If you'd been more tactful, this wouldn't have happened," she retorted. Joe rose abruptly from his armchair and began walking around the room. Laura had hit home, he should refrain from such comments even if he thought she wasn't around. "You're right, it was inappropriate," he said turning back to her. "But how many times do I have to apologize to you?"

"I don't know," she muttered. Joe sighed loudly, took the tray and left. Half an hour later Toby came in. He disconnected the intravenous line, took her temperature and gave her a spoonful of some disgusting-tasting syrup to drink. He did not say a word to her, so the situation must have been very tense. After all the stuff they had put into her body, Laura felt much better so she got out of bed and wanted to find Joe. She thought he was upstairs but as she was walking to the lift she heard music coming from behind the door of his room. She wanted to knock but the photocell worked.

For you, for you I would bring down the heavens on this earth For you, for you I would even trust the devil for rebirth

Joe paused and looked to see who had appeared. He put his guitar aside and didn't look happy about the fact she was the one who had come.

"What do you want? You should be lying down," he said in a husky tone. "I wanted to talk. I'm sorry that..." "We have nothing to talk about," he interrupted her. "...I didn't knock but the door opened by itself," she finished. "I think we have a lot to say to each other." "It's a little late for that." "Give me five minutes and then I can disappear forever if that's what you want."

I don't want to.

"Well, come in," he agreed, letting out a loud breath through his nose.

Laura slowly entered the room, intertwining the fingers of both hands nervously. She stood next to the bed where Joe was sitting.

"Don't just stand there, I'm not biting," he said, trying to spark a pleasant tone out of his voice. "I acted like an idiot." "That I already know," he tried to provoke her. He wanted to see if she would really start to get over herself. "You've already helped me twice when you didn't have to. You gave me a roof over my head, and I'm still angry about some stupid earrings and hairstyle. Let's start all over again, shall we?" "Now you look even worse," he added. DJ couldn't continue being serious and laughed.

The girl looked at him frowning. "Wait, wait a minute. I'm trying to fix everything, and you're laughing?"

"Yes, because I forgave you ages ago. I can't stay angry for long," he shrugged his shoulders. "Especially at pretty girls with bad haircuts." "Joe!" she exclaimed and hit him with a pillow. "But seriously. You should go back to bed. You were in a bad shape when I found you, and the drugs you were given will soon stop working." "All right, Doctor," she joked walking to the door. "I'll come in a minute," he said. "Of course if you want." "It will be a pleasure," she smiled."

Joe still had to attend checking paperwork and picking up a delivery which he hadn't planned to do, but Toby had rightly pointed out the urgency.

"How's Laura?" he asked when the DJ put a piece of paper down on the bar top.

Joe moved restlessly on the bar stool. "Better, she's resting at her place. I said I'd look in on her in a bit but as you can see my plans have changed," he replied rubbing his temples.

"So you two have already reconciled and explained everything?" the bartender inquired.

If they didn't know each other so well, the DJ certainly wouldn't be so polite and calm.

"We've called a truce, but I don't know how long it will last." "Joe, stop pretending, you like her, and it’s not an ordinary ‘like’. But if it comes from the fact that she's a lot like..." "Enough!" growled the DJ. "Don't ever mention her!" "Interesting, because you're the one carrying on some sick private vendetta. You lurk through the streets of Berlin at night looking for clues. You pretend to be a knight of the night, an angel of justice, and where has that gotten you?" "I have to find these bastards. That's all I'm interested in. And I'll do it with or without you." "Just don't drag Laura into it."

It was far too late for that. Joe had already made a strong commitment and it was something deeper than just a simple human desire to help. Something he feared and couldn't prevent. Laura was too young, they could convict him under the law, but she had a light in her that could warm his cold soul and air that made him breathe again.

"I'll go check on her," he muttered and stood up. "I signed the delivery acceptance and checked the documents. I won't be at the opening today." "Joe, think about it some more. She's going to suffer, and it's going to be your fault."

DJ disappeared behind the shelves. During the lift ride, Toby's words tormented him. It was true, that Laura would suffer, but she would decide that for herself. Once he was outside her room remorse caught up with him. He had said he would come in a moment, and it had been over an hour. The door opened for him and he let himself in. The girl was asleep, but he heard her repeating the words "Mom", and "Dad" and immediately after that she started screaming. Joe was at her side in a split second. He held her in his arms when she woke up. He touched her forehead. It was inflamed with the fever, which he feared."Joe..." she whispered cuddling tightly into him and tightening her fingers on his shirt.

"It's just a bad dream," he reassured her.

The man wanted to get up, but she wouldn't let him. "Stay, please."

"I'll be right back, I have to go get some medicines."

DJ walked down the long corridor and stood in front of a massive door locked with a combination lock and access card.

"What about her?" he heard Toby's voice behind him as the green light came on and the door opened.

The room they found themselves in was a hospital room with glass medicine cabinets, a recliner and all sorts of medical equipment. It was white and green, reeking of disinfectant preparations with a dominant hint of spirit.

"Bad again," he said resignedly, opening one of the cabinets. "She's got a fever again, I'm afraid she might not survive until morning. I can't give her anything but pills," he sighed taking one of the packets. "Well yes, you can't give another injection until a day has passed since the last one. Alex and I will take care of everything. As you said, don't come to the opening today." "Thanks," he replied trying to smile.

Joe returned to the sick woman, picking up his guitar on the way. Music always helped, so he should try anything. The girl swallowed two pills, and the DJ covered her with some blankets. He sat down in his armchair and gently tugged the strings. He frowned, hearing the wrong sound and tuned the instrument.

When I feel so alone out here And freedom means I am lost When everyday seems a slow motion suicide You reignite my lust for life

Joe hummed softly, looking helplessly at Laura. He wished he could do more, use his enhancements to save her, but right now they were just a worthless bunch of wires wrapped in synthetic skin. He had never been someone who easily gave in to emotions and succumbed to feelings, now he was lost like a small stone tossed into the depths of the ocean. Toby is right, he should let go, stop looking for ghosts from the past, and dwell on what was four years ago. Unfortunately, he couldn't. He leaned his guitar against the nightstand, got up from his armchair and sat on his heels in front of the round bed so that he could see Laura when he finished meditating.

From delusion lead me to truth From darkness lead me to light From death lead me to immortality. Let there be peace everywhere

When the five senses and the mind are still, and reason itself rests in silence, then begins the Path supreme

He repeated again and again, trying to get the inner peace he needed now more than ever.

"Joe?" murmured a voice that he ignored. "Joe?!" came back with redoubled force, invading the recesses of consciousness. "JOE!" the inner calm cracked and shattered ringing like broken glass. The man opened his eyes. Laura was sitting on the bed with a furious look on her face. "Doggone it, I haven't died yet and you're already holding funeral ceremonies!"

DJ laughed. It was the only thing he could do now.

"Well, what are you laughing at, idiot?! You were supposed to come to me." "Sorry," he tried to reply but couldn't stop laughing. "Toby brought some urgent paperwork. We had to take care of it before the opening." "Wait, you were here with me the whole time?" "I was scared... You had a high fever, and I couldn't do anything." "But it's all right now. Unfortunately, I will continue to annoy you so don't sit on the ground." "Okay, I'll go back to the armchair," he replied standing up. "No," she protested. "Here, beside me," she commanded. "Out of the question," he muttered, intertwining his arms across his chest. "Then I'll go." "This is emotional blackmail." "It is. What's it going to be?" she asked tilting her head. "I give up," he said raising his bent arms in the air.

Despite everything, he was happy that his worst fears had not come true. He took off his shoes and sat down next to her on the bed, intertwining his hands behind his head. He hadn't even had time to make himself comfortable when he felt her head land in his lap and the girl begins to squirm.

"Not too comfortable for you?" he asked, glancing down at her. "A little hard, but manageable."

Joe snickered but didn't answer.

"Did I do something stupid or say something?" she asked looking at him closely.

DJ shook his head negatively. "No, but you called your parents."

"I miss them," she said quietly. "I remember that day like it was yesterday."

Uppsala, Sweden. 2009.

"Honey hurry up, we have to make it to the airport!" urged a female voice.

"I'm coming, mum!" "I've packed all the luggage, we can go," announced the father.

The girl came down the stairs holding the phone in her hand and the headphones wrapped around it. She slipped it into a rag bag slung diagonally over her left shoulder.

"I'm nervous," she said.

Her mother put her arm around her. "You'll be fine, you'll see. You've trained long and hard, you deserve to be Odette," she assured her.

Laura put on her jacket, grabbed ballet shoes and then they all left the house and got into the car. The winter day was actually a night in Sweden. They drove along a road winding through a dense forest. The girl was listening to Poets Of The Fall, wanting to calm her thoughts, to stop being so nervous. Their music always had a positive effect on her and helped during her worse days. She didn't know when it happened. There was a scream and a bang, and then darkness.

"You're in the hospital," she heard someone's voice. "Please lie still, no sudden movements." "How did it happen?" she asked with difficulty forcing her throat to make sounds. "You don't remember anything?" "A scream. Something like: He's driving in the wrong lane! Hold on!"

The blurred image was coming into focus, forming the face of a man in a medical coat.

"Where are my parents? They're fine, aren't they?"

This was the hardest part of being a doctor. To tell the truth or still spare the patient the shock.

"I'm sorry. You're the only one who survived." "That's impossible!" she jerked her body violently, but the nurse grabbed her shoulders. "Why can't I feel my leg! What the hell happened?!" "It was crushed by the force of the impact. We had to amputate it." "No. No! NO!!!" the girl began to struggle.

The doctor nodded to the nurse, who reached for a syringe. There was darkness again.

When I feel so alone out here And freedom means I am lost When everyday seems a slow motion suicide You reignite my lust for life

Though this ship's run aground You can still come around What is lost may be found Safe and sound And on this sorry-go-round Don't know which way we're bound What is lost may be found Safe and sound

All  chapters can be found: [AO3], [dA], [Wattpad] and [Tumblr]

[zack-is-silly]

Ranting about Sally Face because I love it so much and I can't. I haven't talked about Sally Face and AHH

Okay. So first of all, Sally fished 2 is in production, but I think that's like I don't really know what's going to be because everyone's dead. By the end of the game, most not not everyone, it's like only Larry and sal and Travis who are dead, but Sal Ash and Larry are the main 3 for the majority of the game, and Todd only has really a big ish part in episode 2, and Neil only has a big part after Todd dies. Or doesn't he doesn't die but he goes insane and that's close enough. So I'm wondering if it's gonna be like more focused on when they were in high school or if it's going to be an entirely different set of characters. Or or if it's going to be Addison. Because he was like he was before he was the one who had to kill everyone and stuff. So I'm wondering if it's going to be that, but can we really sad having to watch someone kill their entire family?

So in episode 6, I'm pretty sure it is. Either 6 or 5, but in episode 6 or 5 sal is dead. And he has to go into the different like universes right? And I love that part. I love it so much. It's so silly and I love it. Oh I love it so much and i love that he's like being guided by Larry's dad, which also. I really hope Larry gets that closure that his dad did not leave him his dad did not leave his family. His dad is actually just a fuking head. I don't know, I'm pretty sure he did get that closure. But I don't know if he actually believed sal when he told him that you know. Cause I wouldn't believe someone if someone told me that oh your dad didn't actually leave you. He's just, he's like kind of like a ghost but he's not. I would not believe them. I would think they were on drugs.

Can I say something? I hate ash specifically because she went against Sal in the trial. Why the fuck was she going against him? She was like. Oh I don't. I don't think he's a bad person. I just think he's confused or whatever. I don't know, he's a bad person, but he's insane bitch Such a fucking whore, like no, he's not insane. He's literally he never once lied when he was talking to anyone, but no one's gonna believe you, when you say oh yeah, actually, I can see ghosts and shit and the landlord of my apartment was actually like a hundreds of years old and he told me I had to kill everyone so I could save the world. Like no one would believe that and so he kinda already knew he would get a die but also his only close friend he had left turning on him. Such a fucking whore slut

I forget where I saw this but I saw some. One who was like theorizing that Travis knew he was gonna die like it was either. He was gonna die while he was killing his father or he was gonna die after the fact because the only reason why he was still alive after sal died was to get revenge on his father. And that's kind of sad not gonna lie. Because I love Travis. Travis is my baby and he's just. Dead doubt I'm sorry it's so sad because I love him and he's dead. They're all dead. Everyone I like is dead. It's upsetting. It's upsetting. It's so upsetting. I hate it. I hate this stupid game. I love this game. I love this game. I love this game. I love it so much. It consumes my soul like if there was a game that ate away at your soul until all you could think was that game? Sally face would be that game. I'm sorry I'm not sorry it's the truth. If you can't handle the truth get out cause it consumes me. I mean, this in the best way possible. It consumes me

Okay, this has nothing to do with anything but II am always dissing Todd's fucking clothes. What the fuck is that shit and Travis's shoes? I love you Travis. But what the fuck are those neon green shoes kid. It's not cute like the rest of Travis's outfit. It's okay guess, but the neon green shoes. Why are you wearing highlighters on your feet? You fucking weirdo. Todd, he's OK, but his elephant is actually terrible and it doesn't help that he's a ginger like you could be cute as a ginger, but not with that fucking shit He's weird. It's so ugly. I think the rest of them had okay. Taste of clothing except for sal and his stupid fucking red pants cause. They look good on sal. But they do not good on everyone and it's so hard to try to cosplay him because what the fuck it's so bad. It's so bad. Speaking out of experience here. By the way, it's bad, it's bad.

Also I love love love, when people make edits and they make the intro to the edit. One of Larry's stupid, fucking teeth puns. Oh I love it so much because there're so fuckinh silly. I love Larry. We love Larry because he's just so silly and I love his tooth puns. You just don't understand I love the tooth puns. I love them, they're so silly like "the tooth will set you free." Yes, it will!!!!! Oh, I'm such a freak.

Also, this one has nothing to do with anything but I don't think I can trust you if you have never watched Gloom's play through of Sally FACE because it's literally so silly. It's in my opinion, the best play through you can watch for Sally face other than like. Maybe the one with all the voice acting, but like that one's okay. I guess if you want to watch the voice acting and that's the really, the only thing you are watching it for but if you're watching it to actually watch someone play the game then Gloom is the one you should go to, which. By the way, this one is completely random. Nothing to do with anything but Gloom coming back not in my 2024. Bingo but I'm glad it happened because she was my childhood. Not doing a lot like girl was my childhood and I love her so much. And I'm so glad that she came back and I didn't care if she's not actually coming back and it's just like the 1 video. I'm just glad that she is like alive. You know, it's good. It's good to know that kind of stuff. You know. But anyways, that is the end of my little rant and it had nothing to do with anything. It was just shit I wanted to talk about cause I don't care okay bye bye love ya.

[haphazardlyparked]

Real Bad Ideas(TM)

anyway, I started watching Riverdale and this happened. typically @straycatreadsthat​ only enabled me, so this lands squarely on her, but also i wanted this badly 

here’s a bunch of shamelessly self-indulgent stuff

"Hey, I’m sorry about your brother," Nat Shy says, with what sounds like genuine sympathy, when Yila squeezes by him to claim a seat in one of the last rows. She would have tried to hide out in the very last row, but Cian and Other Lan are already back there with their heads together and Yila does not want to touch that with a twenty foot pole.

Yila doesn’t look at Nat. She swallows back a lump in her throat and mumbles something that might be a thanks. Hunching further into her hoodie, she manages to make it all the way to the other end of the row without having to exchange words with anyone else.

Then: "Oh hi, is anyone sitting next to you?" a too-bright voice asks. Yila looks up reluctantly at another Asian student she's never seen before (and she knows all the Asian students because Li-an liked to drag her to the Asian Students Association meetings and that causes a fresh wave of dull pain in Yila's chest.)

"I'm new," the girl says, and suddenly Yila is crying and can't stop and is desperately ashamed of it.

"Oh my god," the girl says, and sits down. She digs into her bag, pulls out a packet of tissues and a baseball cap, and shoves them both in Yila's direction.

Yila gratefully puts the hat on under her hoodie and accepts the tissues, and then does her level best to pretend she doesn't exist.

•••

“Holy shit, Cal,” Meg hisses, smacking Cal’s arm. “Look.”

“Megan,” says Cal, sweet, hapless Cal who is the only person in the entire world who calls Meg “Megan” and kind of makes her feel like a bitch every once in a while. “Ow.”

“Okay, sorry, but look.” Meg jerks her head at the door.

It’s Clara Brights, whose only friend is Radian Jones, who spent half his time last year being her friend and the other half gunning for editor-in-chief of the school newspaper.  

“Oh,” Cal says. “Okay, wow.”

“Yeah,” Meg says. “Ten bucks Nat Shy is having a heart attack somewhere.”

Somehow over the summer Clara Brights had gone from short and tiny to average height and tiny, which made her look less like an earnest middle schooler who somehow found her way in the halls of high school, and more like a shy brunette beauty. She’s standing at the main doors to the auditorium, checking something in her bag and accidentally blocking the way in; Kinlo, one of the varsity football players, is right behind her and does not seem to mind a bit.

“Okay,” Cal says again, then turns back to doodling in his notebook. “What does Nathanial have to do with it?”

Meg ignores him; Nat’s repressed crush on Clara is not common knowledge, but Cal was definitely with her when she found Nat pining away in an art studio over a glass flower at the end of last year. She wonders if he ever gave it to Brights.

“Do you think I can get her to try out for the field hockey team?” Now that Brights doesn’t look like she’s going to break like a twig at the hint of a stiff breeze, Meg thinks she’d be fast on the field, and maybe a bit surprisingly aggressive too. Meg has good intuition when it comes to these things.

“Does she even like field hockey?” Cal asks.  

“I bet I could get her to try out,” Meg decides.

Cal puts the finishing touch on his dragon. “Okay,” he agrees absently.

Meg would say more, but suddenly there’s the loud, ear-piercing shriek of a malfunctioning microphone, and followed by an awkward laugh that booms through the soundspeakers. The entire school assembly collectively winces; hawkishly watching the new and improved Clara Brights, Meg inwardly crows when she sees the other girl smoothly dodge Kinlo’s sudden stumbling. Reflexes!

“Sorry,” Hokiraj Kas, this year’s Head Boy says awkwardly, and still too loudly.

“Maybe take a step back,” the microphone picks up Masara Amir’s voice; surprising no one, she’s the Head Girl to Kas’s Head Boy, and Shilim Scorch, the school’s resident creep, is taking bets on how long it’ll take Kas to ask her out on a date. (Cal asked if that wasn’t a little mean? But Meg put her money on Kas blurting out his love for her in some public fashion at Homecoming.)

“Oops,” Kas says, and at a normal volume. “Is this better? Good! Okay, hey, everyone! Welcome back! I know we’ve still got stragglers coming in — Kinlo, that’s a detention for you, buddy — but we’re about to get started with the first assembly of the school year!”

•••

Annnnnnd then assembly happens, with Masara and Hikaj taking the lead to make the major announcements, and at one point Hikaj calls out to congratulate Other Lan on making it to the semi-finals of Jeopardy! Teen. Except he accidentally calls her “Other Lan” and not by her proper name, and then the school kind of collectively feels inadequate because Masara gives Hikaj an incredibly disappointed look and everyone else feels like it’s directed at them, because nobody sitting in the auditorium can actually remember Other Lan’s real name either.

“Though seriously,” Hikaj says, after apologizing profusely for calling her Other Lan in public (Other Lan is sitting in the back row with Cian and does not look like she gives a a single shit), “Why would you quit just as you get to the semi-finals?”

Other Lan just kind of shrugs.

other First Assembly of the School Year highlights include:

“Dude,” Meg says when the new librarian and media tech support teacher, Iska Wells, is introduced to the school. “Mr. Keller is totally eyefucking the poor guy.”

Mr. Keller is the English teacher for both freshmen and seniors; his freshmen always seem to come out of his class in a horrified daze, but by time they're seniors they'll have started calling him by his nickname, Kalna, and joke with him in the halls. The evolving relationship students have with Mr. Keller is a RBI High rite of passage. Meg thinks she might graduate to "Kalna" this year.

“Megan,” Cal complains. “Why are you like this?”

“Shut up, you love me,” Meg maintains, just as Kinlo leans over from the row behind them to weigh in.

“First,” Kinlo whispers, “that kind of look should be banned, we are a school. But second, I’d like to direct your attention to Prof Shady.”

Prof Shady is the school’s (loving?) nickname for Professor Natale, the comp sci teacher everyone calls Prof Shady because who the hell gets their PhD in AI technology and then fucks off to a high school to teach a bunch annoying kids? At Kinlo’s suggestion, Meg shifts her attention from Mr. Keller to the Prof, who is sitting next to the new librarian. He looks stiffer than usual, and is also studiously avoiding looking at the politely smiling Mr. Wells, even though everyone else is clapping to welcome him.

“That’s not weird at all,” says Meg.

And also:

The assembly takes a turn for the sad and awkward when Masara finally ends with, “Finally, we’d like to have a moment of silence for our classmate, Li-an Sun, who would have been a sophomore this year.”

Everyone knows that Li-an Sun drowned over the summer. As soon as Masara makes her announcement, the auditorium splits itself between those who carefully don’t crane their necks awkwardly looking for Li-an’s twin sister, Yila Sun, and those who do exactly that.

Meg ignores Cal’s elbow in her ribs, and joins the second group. When she does spot Yila Sun, she’s surprised to see her sitting next to an unfamiliar Asian girl, who must be the new transfer student. New Transfer Student is systematically frowning at every person who's looking at Yila; when she and Meg make eye contact, Meg mouths "Try out for field hockey," and then turns back around in her seat.  

bonus! later into the school year: 

"Hey, Yila?" New Lan asks during lunch one day. New Lan's parents are high powered government employees. She's the Head Girl’s cousin, and is one of the rising stars on the school's popular field hockey team (along with, strangely, Clara Brights). Yila isn't sure why New Lan still sits with her at lunch, but she knows for a fact Cian and Other Lan whisper furiously about their fledging friendship.

"What?" Yila asks, and tries to say it as nicely as possible. The thing is - Lan is the only person in the school who didn't know her has half of Li-an, and who doesn't look at her with constant pity. Just for that, Yila would hang onto this friendship for as long as she possibly can, but it turns out Lan is also smart and funny, and Yila hasn't laughed in what feels like forever.

"Why does the school have a security guard who drives around on a segway? Indoors?”

"Porcelain?" Yila shrugs. "Dunno, but the rumor is the Head Boy is actually a lord somewhere, and Porcelain's here just to guard him."

"But why the segway?"

"It's mostly as a fuck-you to one the school's trustees. They had a huge thing go on last year."

[mehiwilldoitlater]

I found this

And I it had me dead for 5 minutes. I would love this with creator!reader actually saying this to Dottore while holding up both pictures to say “….I’m not sorry to tell you that your old fashion sense was sin and I cant believe you had the audacity to go out like that. Or the audacity to show up like this after what you used to look like. you went from looking like a failed attempt at dressing up like Frankenstein’s monster to the guy at the masquerade party that every lady THINKS is hot but still doesn’t wanna dance with. I bet you dress by putting on one sock then your shoe and then doing it again for the other foot. I swear to me I will if I ever catch you doing weird scientist stuff that leads us into a Resident Evil situation I’ll staple paper to your face.” And then they go on to roast everyone else too for example,

They’d tell Scara “your hair is a crime it looks like a mullet and a bowl cut had a baby, you really are your mama’s(Ei) son. You get no maidens bro. I won’t even cap I’m so mad about Teppei and everyone else in the resistance that died thanks to those stupid delusions. That’s the only reason I’m flaming you as well because I know revoked phd (Dottore) over there had a lot to do with it. You owe a huge apology to me, to the traveler, to Paimon, to Teppei, and to Teppei’s other friends and family. But I will give you points if you can say a paragraph of good roasts about Ei.

Then they would look Childe straight in the eyes and say “I hate the fact that 1 bad quality outweighs all the boyfriend material you have. You dead eyes ginger mf you have so many people who want you bad and I bet you actually find massacres hot. You almost drowned at least a whole city and that’s a huge turn off. Then to add to it you had the audacity to- the GALL to take a tone with MY traveler? You threaten my traveler and almost kill them over a glowing chess piece that Elsa(the tsaritsa) over there wanted, you’re next by the way I haven’t forgotten about you ice queen. Anyway, I’ll give you leeway since your archon and co-worker basically lied to you and used you as a distraction and to keep as much heat off their backs as they could.

Arlecchino: Please! PLEASE! MERCY! You are killing them! Reader: NO! No mercy! Only pain! You...THOT! Arlecchino:

Ok no seriously, this idea? It's precious, the fact that reader just make their way up to the top ROASTING every characters that try to kill them? PERFECT

[desertfangs]

Vamptember Day 16 - Phone Call

Prompt: "Phone Call" | Armand/Daniel | 1012 Words

Still very early in the chase years, Daniel realizes he's missed an important appointment re: the Interview with the Vampire book.

----------

Daniel stood in the phone booth as the snow started to fall, listening to it ring. It was after hours but he’d only just remembered the date in the taxi on the way from the airport. Or rather, he remembered why the date sounded significant. 

He willed someone to pick up. Short of that, he’d have to leave a message. 

He leaned against the booth, exhaustion starting to wear on him. Normally he slept well on planes. These days, it felt like the only safe place to sleep. Once the cabin door was locked and the plane was at cruising altitude, there was no way his vampire stalker could get to him (or so he hoped). But he’d felt uneasy for the entire flight from London, chugging ginger ale between gin and tonics, hoping something would help. Nothing had. 

“Hello?” 

Daniel straightened. A live person, even after five. Lucky. Daniel told the woman who he was. He heard the shuffling of papers. Sounding annoyed, she told him the courier had gone to the address he’d provided but he wasn’t there to receive the manuscript. She admonished him for missing the delivery. “We can resend it tomorrow, but the editor really wants these proofs back by Monday.” 

“Sorry, there was a family emergency,” Daniel lied. “My grandmother died and I had to leave the state.” He winced. His Irish heritage made him faintly superstitious and speaking someone’s death into existence was a no-no. He knocked quietly on the wooden box beneath the phone that held the phone book. 

The woman from the publishing company apologized. Assured him they could give him another week given the circumstances. Asked when he’d back in New York, or if they needed to send the manuscript somewhere else.

An unhinged laugh bubbled up out of him. Where would he be in a day or two to accept a delivery? The devil only knew. The devil who haunted him, following his every move with supernatural cunning. 

The woman seemed to mistake his laughter for a sob and told him how she’d lost her grandfather the year before. 

“I can be in New York the day after tomorrow.” It was only an hour flight. He could get some sleep here and then head back to the airport in the morning. He’d be there in time to get the proofs the following day with more than enough time to spare. 

The woman made a note, verified the address where he’d be—a hotel where Daniel had stayed once before—and then apologized for his loss again before hanging up.

Daniel put the phone back on the receiver and leaned his head against the cold glass of the booth. Daniel had never been punctual but he never used to miss entire appointments. 

Something tapped against the glass.

Daniel looked up, startled, his heart slamming into his ribs. Armand’s face was on the other side of the glass, ghostly pale, his amber eyes locked onto Daniel. He was smirking. 

Daniel opened the phone booth door, trying to ignore the blood thrumming in his ears. “I’ve been in Boston less than hour,” Daniel said, forcing his tone to sound casual. “That’s impressive, even for you.” 

Armand’s smirk faltered. He looked faintly surprised, which made him look younger, more human. Daniel loved when he could catch him off guard, even momentarily. It took some of the edge off of his terror. 

Daniel started walking down the street. If he couldn’t find a hotel and get some sleep thanks to the vampire’s sudden arrival, at least he could find a bar. 

“You’re going to New York?” Armand asked, falling into step with him. 

Daniel wanted to lie but it was no use. Not only had he likely overheard, but he could read his thoughts and hear his pulse, like walking lie detector. 

“I have business there. You can’t come.” Imagine if it were as easy as that! Sorry, All-Powerful Immortal, you’re not allowed to stalk me until my work in Manhattan is complete. 

“I’m not all powerful,” Armand said. 

Daniel grunted. Might as well be.

“It’s about the book?” Armand asked.

Something in his tone made Daniel stop, ice flooding his veins. He’d wondered if Armand would actually let the book get completed. Armand had known about it from the start, of course, but now that it was coming to fruition…

Armand watched him with a sinister, almost playful gleam in his eye. “If I killed you now, would it stop the book from being published?” 

Daniel swallowed. His mouth felt very dry. “I doubt it.” He didn’t need to proofread it. It was basically a courtesy, and his final chance to make sure they hadn’t left anything out, to see if they’d made any changes, and maybe try to fight them if they had, for whatever that was worth. The book could be printed tomorrow if they so chose. 

Armand stood unnaturally still, staring at him until Daniel thought his heart might explode. And then he smiled faintly. “I don’t care about the book. As I said, no one will believe it.” 

Daniel relaxed slightly, but his pulse still raced. 

“Go to New York, do your business.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Just don’t take too long. If I get bored, I may decide to end this little game.” His smile widened in a way that showed his fangs, which sent another jolt through Daniel, a mix of fear and, god help him, desire.  

Armand pivoted on his heel and continued down the sidewalk. Daniel stared after him. He had the strangest urge to run after the vampire, to chase him down and continue the interaction. Ask what he thought of the book, what might happen when it was out. Did he hope it might lure Louis out of hiding? Or Lestat? Did he intend to kill Daniel once it was done? 

He forced himself to remain planted to the spot as snow fell into his hair and dotted his glasses, until the vampire was long out of sight. 

Then he went to the closest bar and ordered a very stiff drink.

[biconderoga]

Part 1: Here

Scenario: The death of Itadori hung over Y/N’s head at every waking moment. The circumstances were shrouded with mystery, and Y/N couldn’t do anything but carry on with a heavy heart. Minor Spoilers ⚠️ (Just briefly mentions the way Itadori was revealed to the first years).

Word Count: 2,069!! (My longest piece to date-)

“It’s me! The dearly departed Itadori!”

Megumi liked to think he could take a joke. He could handle teasing on his behalf. Gojou was relentless in that field, so it wasn’t a foreign experience for him. Years of dealing with the blindfolded sorcerer taught him to deal with sometimes tasteless jokes.

But this…this was the most distasteful joke he had ever seen. It left an incredibly bad taste in his mouth. He would rather chug curdled milk than deal with the spectacle that was playing out in front of him. His so called dead comrade was wheeled in by Gojou, and surprise surprise! He was alive and well.

Megumi closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a very deep breath. He opened his eyes again, and glared at Itadori. Itadori, sensing the tense atmosphere, feebly made jazz hands in hopes of alleviating the mood.

It did not work.

“So, um,” Itadori rubbed the back of his neck, and continued in a quiet rushed tone, “Sorry about not telling you I was alive and all...”

Nobara’s eye twitched at his apology while Megumi turned around to join the second years. The shikigami user didn’t have time to deal with this. The Goodwill Event currently took priority. Perhaps after it was done, Megumi could properly wrap his head around Itadori’s revival.

He didn’t know what to feel. If anything, he felt anger. Anger on Y/N’s behalf. How would she feel about Itadori’s return? She didn’t know how he died, and would especially not understand the fact he was alive. Megumi was not one for strong emotions, but the swelling of anger in his chest was too great to ignore.

“Oh? What’s got you so pissy, Megumi?” Maki leaned against the wall as she placed her head on the back of her hand, “You seem upset. Shouldn’t you be a bit more relieved about Itadori?”

Megumi silently huffed, “It’s nothing.”

Nobara, who was marginal to Maki, rolled her eyes, “Always so secretive.”

“You know you don’t have to keep visiting me…”

Megumi merely nodded at Y/N’s statement, “I know, but it’s only fair that I check up on you.”

Y/N groaned at his statement, “I appreciate the sentiment, but you don’t have to babysit me. I may have been Itadori’s girlfriend, but I’m not nearly as rash as he was.”

He nodded once again. Megumi himself didn’t understand why he habitually returned to Y/N’s residence. She didn’t properly know him, and if anything she most likely associated him with Itadori’s death. He wouldn’t be surprised if Y/N was just being polite. She easily could’ve been putting up a facade as she silently seethed on the inside.

“You can say you hate me,” Megumi paused as he chose his next words, “You can kick me out if you want. I know you probably blame me for Itadori’s death, I know I blame myself.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Megumi ended his miniature spiel. She shook her head before she firmly placed her hands onto his shoulders, “We haven’t known each other for long, but Itadori did tell me you were strong. I’m not sure where your strength lies, but I do know it’s not your fault. Itadori’s stupid mistakes don’t have anything to do with you. If anything, I hate myself for not asking him more questions,” She lowly whistled, “and I would be lying if I said I didn’t blame Itadori. He was always doing the most, and never took a break.”

Itadori was right, Megumi did like Y/N. Despite the fact she knew absolutely nothing about the circumstances of his death, Y/N was still able to continue forward. She was hurting, but she still took her time to confirm her faith in Megumi.

“Before he…” The sorcerer paused and swallowed thickly, “…died. Itadori told me I would like you.”

Y/N weakly laughed, “And do you?”

“You’re nice…” Megumi smiled, “Itadori got lucky.���

With the goodwill event said and done, Megumi found himself back in his dorm. His blinds were shut, and he was curled beneath his covers as he nursed a headache. No matter the occasion, Megumi found himself injured…

A quiet knock resounded throughout his room followed with a weak, “Hello?”

Megumi shifted under his covers and huffed, “Who is it?”

Silence was heard before the voice mumbled,“Itadori.”

‘Ah,’ Megumi thought, ‘He’s alive’ Following all of the hustle and bustle of the festival, Itadori’s miraculous revival was the last thing on his mind. Megumi processed his answer. He liked his lips before he uttered a, “Come in.”

Itadori entered the room and stood awkwardly by the entrance. He rubbed the back of his head, before gathering the courage to speak. “I heard you made everyone the meatballs I taught you how to cook…”

“Yeah,” Megumi sat up, “Everyone liked it.” The black haired male scratched his head. Itadori was usually a straightforward and happy-go-lucky person, this tense small talk was beneath him. “What do you need Itadori?”

“Ah! Well-you seem distant? Are you still mad at me?”

Megumi shrugged and feigned indifference, “I was never mad. I’m just not used to dead people being revived.”

“Oh, true!” Itadori visibly calmed, “Well if your not mad, can I ask you something?”

Now there was the Itadori that Megumi knew, blunt and straight to the point. The male raised his eyebrow, a silent indicator for Itadori to continue.

“So um…about Y/N…” The vessel fiddled with his hands, “She’s probably real mad I went M.I.A without telling her. Especially, after going a two months without contact! Can you be my excuse? Like we can say we were on a surprise field trip in the middle of the country.”

Megumi sighed at Itadori’s rambling. It seemed to be an ongoing trend that he was the bearer of bad news. First, it was Itadori’s death to Y/N. And now, it was the fact Y/N now thought Itadori was dead. What was first an act of kindness on Megumi’s part was now a huge problem for Itadori.

“So whaddya say?”

“She thinks you’re dead,” Came Megumi’s blunt reply, “If you’re ever going to talk to her again, she deserves the truth. She isn’t going to blindly trust you after thinking you were dead. It’s the least she deserves.”

Itadori’s eyes widened into saucers, “Who told her? Gojou-sensei said no one would—“ He threw himself to the floor and rolled back and forth, “He said since she was a regular person no one would bother telling herrrrr.”

As Itadori continued his senseless bemoaning, Megumi took in a deep breath. The black-haired male rose from his bed and approached Itadori. He gently kicked his side (in a silent hope that it would shut him up) before he spoke, “I did.”

“You did? I thought you hated doing that type of thing.”

“I do,” Megumi rolled his eyes, “But it isn’t fair that she would’ve been waiting for a dead person to call her.”

“But I’m not dead!”

Megumi’s vein nearly popped out of his forehead, “Well I didn’t know dumbass!”

“Can you pass me the ginger paste?”

The male nodded as he foraged through Y/N’s fridge. Once found, he tossed it to her. The girl fumbled to catch it, and playfully glared at Megumi when she did.

“Did Itadori teach you how to make the meatballs?” Megumi queried, “He taught me how.”

“Yeah right, it was me who taught him.” Y/N kneaded the meat in the bowl, “He failed to mention that didn’t he?”

The stutter of the subway cart knocked Megumi out of his thoughts. To his right was Itadori, who appeared to be contemplating something. They exited the cart, and like many times before, they started on the familiar route to Y/N’s residence.

This current predicament eerily mirrored his first meeting with Y/N. Except this time, Megumi brought good news instead of bad news. Hopefully Y/N would take it well and not blow up in anger. She had every right to be angry, but Megumi had an inkling she would hear them out.

“Should I surprise her like I surprised you and Kugisaki?” Itadori pumped his fist, “She’ll probably swoon and fall into my arms! It’ll be super romantic!”

Megumi deadpanned, “I don’t think she’ll appreciate that.” Was Itadori truly that dense? Didn’t he see how Nobara reacted to his revival? He could only imagine how his actual girlfriend would react, “Didn’t you see how Kugisaki reacted?”

“True…” Itadori pouted and placed his hands on his hips, “She looked like this, and she kept glaring when I spoke.”

“I wonder why…” Megumi rolled his eyes at Itadori’s theatrics.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“I suppose I should break it to her…” He ruffled his black locks, “Then when she’s ready you can come in.”

“Alright…”

With a nod, Itadori walked out of view. Megumi took a deep breath, before he knocked on the door.

“Where do you keep running off to? The second years keep nagging me whenever you skip training.” Nobara crossed her arms, while she tapped her foot on the ground as she waited for Megumi’s answer.

“To visit Y/N,” Came his short answer, “After I told her about Itadori’s death we exchanged numbers and kept in contact.”

“Oh…” Kugisaki murmured, “Tell her we should meet up sometime. Maki’s the only girl I’ve talked to on a regular basis,” She pinched her nose, “There’s too much testosterone here.”

“So…what is that you need?”

“Uh, can we sit down?”

“Right, ok...”

Megumi awkwardly trailed behind Y/N as she led him to her couch. He tugged at his uniform’s collar. Was his uniform always so stuffy? No, it was just the nerves. Megumi was at a lost about how to break the news. He wished it was as simple as watching a YouTube video titled ‘How to tell a girl their boyfriend isn’t dead!’. But alas, here he was, with a choked up expression painted on his face.

“What is it Megumi? You’re freaking me out.”

“Itadori isn’t dead.” Megumi truly needed to practice on his execution. His forward way of speaking could easily rub someone the wrong way. The poor guy couldn’t help it! His nerves always loosened his mouth. It wasn’t normal to just vomit information like that. His execution was so poor that he couldn’t help but internally cringe.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re joking. This has to be a sick joke.” She leaned back onto her couch, “Then again you’re not really one for jokes.”

Megumi slightly recoiled from her subtle insult. It may have been nothing malicious on Y/N’s part, but Megumi was still irked. He could tell a joke! Instead of pursuing the matter any further, he kept his mouth shut. It was inappropriate to complain now.

“I found out a couple of days ago. I would’ve told you sooner, but I was busy with school.” He started, “It would’ve been unfair of me to just tell you over the phone.”

“C-can I see him?” Y/N mumbled, “Is he here now?”

He nodded, “I’ll grab him for you.”

Within minutes, Itadori is ushered into Y/N’s living room. Megumi quietly excused himself as he was not keen on being caught up in a couple’s quarrel.

Itadori was uncharacteristically silent as he witnessed the tears falling from his partner’s eyes. Itadori’s arm slightly raised out to her, but he ultimately faltered. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but he was unsure if the situation called for it.

“Y/N please don’t cry—“

“Two months.” Y/N hiccuped, “Two months I thought you were dead. I got no explanation. I didn’t even get to see your body.” She tugged down her sleeve to wipe her eyes, “Megumi was the only person I could talk to. He couldn’t give me a reason, but he respected me enough to tell me.”

“I’ll explain everything to you, I swear.”

“You’re an asshole for this…you tell me you transferred to some fancy school, and then you die! This isn’t some drama Itadori, you better not have joined some cult!” As her tangent ended, Y/N stumbled over to Itadori and threw her arms around him, “Please trust me, tell me everything from the beginning.”

Itadori tightly returned the hug, and littered kisses on her forehead. Once done, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Of course. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“So you did join a cult.”

“Y/N I swear it’s not like that-“

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1981

The X-Men, those back-to-the-future mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(Uncanny X-Men 141 - 152) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne, Brent Anderson, Dave Cockrum, Jim Sherman, Bob McLeod and Josef Rubinstein

While I also committed various fashion atrocities at the age of 14 (tye-die and fauxhawks, oh my), even Liberace would find Kitty’s outfits too much. (Uncanny X-Men 149; Uncanny X-Men Annual ‘81)

We dial back from the v. epic scope of the last few arcs. Instead, 1981 is just a lot of fun! We get:

Storm and Emma doing a Freaky Friday!

the X-Men vs. Magneto (again!)

A surprisingly effective Alien rip-off

An dystopian future! (OoOoOoOo)

Last year was the year of the Dark Phoenix, this is the year of Kitty Pryde. That’s not to say Jean’s death is swept under the rug: all throughout, we see her friends mourning her loss or remembering her fondly. (Scott even gets to have a demonic adventure about it.) But in general, Claremont puts Kitty in the forefront, fleshing out his YA-addition to the team. And what would a YA heroine be without a grim dystopia? Roll out the iconic Days of Future Past!

To be fair, 2013 was a dark time for all of us: What Does the Fox Say somehow got to the top of the charts and I was still watching Glee. (Uncanny X-Men 141)

How cool would it have been to see a name like Jonothon Starsmore or Eva Bell on those tombstones?

Anyway, that’s Kate. Kate’s had it rough. Mutants are at the bottom of the foodchain, most X-Men are dead and only a small cadre of resistance fighters remain, Sentinels dominate, and while she is married to Piotr, her children have been murdered. Bleak. Luckily, the rebellion has concocted the plan to shunt Kate’s spirit back in time to prevent this awful future from happening. (You’ve seen Days of Future Past, the last passably good X-Men film, you know what’s up.)

Let’s do the time warp again! 1981!Kitty’s mind gets taken over by 2013!Kitty, who promptly tries to convince the X-Men that a new Brotherhood of v. Evil Mutants will try to kill Senator Kelly, a presidential candidate who tries to put the mutant menace on the agenda. (Mutants tend to blow stuff up when he’s around.) Since the X-Men recently took a literal trip to Dante’s Infero and also befriended a cosmic world-ending entity, they basically shrug and go: “Yeah, this checks out.”

Off to Washington they go (zoommm) and there, they happen upon the Baddest Bitches in Herstory:

“How dare you hate mutants, senator Kelly! We’ll fix that by killing you!” (Uncanny X-Men 141)

This All-New, All-Different Brotherhood consists out of:

Destiny, a blind woman who can see the future. Definitely the eeriest member of this group. Badass lesbian, though that won´t be canon for years.

Avalanche. Greek who makes things shake. Is a long-standing member of the X-Men Rogue’s gallery, but rarely features in the spotlight. I think he got more characterization in four years of X-Men Evolution than he ever did in the comics.

Mystique. Shapeshifter. Ruthless and unhinged, the Cersei Lannister of the X-Men universe. Absolute legend, secretly the wife of Destiny, currently not as unhinged as she’ll be later. Immediately implied to be related to Nightcrawler: it’s the yellow-eyes-blue-skin-combo.

Pyro. Can manipulate fire, not create it. Absolute pillock, in all the best ways of the word. Originally intended as gay, but they decided to make him Australian instead. (?!)

Blob. Big, strong, immovable. We’ve seen him before.

One of the details in this fight I enjoy is that Storm is still struggling with her leadership, although she has a better grip on things than Cyclops:

Wolverine then proceeds to use those iconic but deadly claws about twice per issue for the next, oh, forty years. (Uncanny X-Men 142)

While the X-Men fight the Brotherhood in the present, we cut back and forth to the future. There, the X-Men consist out of some familiar faces - Storm, Colossus, Wolverine - and some surprises: Magneto (in a wheelchair), Franklin Richards (son of) and an unfamiliar ginger girl called Rachel. (She’ll be important later.) We even learn (one of) Magneto’s names: this is the first time he’s canonically called Magnus.

One of the strengths of Days of Future Past lies in its brevity, the way it tantalizingly taunts us with a brutal but familiar future without giving away too much. It’s single-handedly responsible for all those dark future timelines the X-lines are so fond of which will eventually culminate in time-displaced grandsons from alternative dimensions and the impossibility of a succinct answer to the question: “Who’s Cable?” Too much of a good thing and all that.

Still, what Days of Future Past does so successfully is:

Put the idea of the mutant menace back at the forefront, hammering home the metaphor of mutants being a minority. Mutants being put in camps and being forbidden to breed should - regretfully - make us think of all too many real life equivalents. (Specifically, all of the imagery harkens back to the Holocaust.)

It starkly shows what happens should the X-Men lose, reminding everyone of the stakes. The X-Men are here for a reason: bridging the gap between mutants and humankind. If they fuck up, we end up with mutant concentration camps.

It helps that the X-Men in the future almost all die horribly: Franklin is incinerated, Storm is impaled… It's brutal stuff. The only one to survive is Rachel, who wonders if their plan actually changed the future or if they created an alternative timeline. (It did the latter, sorry ‘bout it, Rachel.)

In the present, Kate chases after Destiny, who trains a gun on senator Kelly. I always wondered how this works: if Destiny saw the future, she knew that killing Kelly would trigger a terrifying future. What in the current Marvel timeline made her decide that the Days of Future Past was better? Did she see her own death? Did she see the Onslaught-crossover coming? The Chuck Austen run? What was it?

In any case, time-anomalous Kate stops Destiny from killing Kelly and the future is safe! For now. Kate disappears, Kitty returns to her body and some of the Brotherhood are apprehended. All is well, for now.

After being a key figure in DoFP, Kitty is also the main character in the Christmas special, which is basically a straight up horror and a pastiche of the Alien-movie.

Seriously, John Byrne still isn’t sure why he wasn’t sued by Ridley Scott for this. (Uncanny X-Men 143)

If you love Kitty Pryde? Read this issue. If you’re not convinced you like 80’s Kitty? Read this issue. It’s not continuity relevant and it’s basically Kitty playing the part of a Final Girl in a horror where she’s being chased by a demon, but it’s so good. It showcases all her strengths and her foibles. Kitty’s intelligent, cute (sometimes preciously so) and brave, but she’s also young, self-conscious and hot-headed. And it's not as if the other X-Men automatically adore her: Storm berates her all the time, she’s afraid of Kurt because of the way he looks (though she grows out of that) and she fights with Professor Xavier a lot. Moreover, she has a clever power-set for a young superhero who faces menaces on a daily basis: a thirteen year old who can go intangible is far less likely to have reality ensue on her and be dramatically offed because she's better at protecting herself.

I’m sure there are people who thought Sprite was hogging the spotlight, but I, for one, say she brings more to the table than, say, Angel. She’s not the Dawn Summers of this franchise.

Scott also gets a side quest. Poor guy can’t catch a break: first the love of his life dies, so he quits the X-Men, then he realizes he can’t do much else than be a superhero. He becomes a sailor on the ship of spunky captain Lee Forrester, is drawn into the sadistic plans of a demon unironically named D’Spayre and then shipwrecks in Bermuda with Lee.

The X-Men, meanwhile, are tormented by a team-up of Doom (who’s currently Latverialess and working on a comeback) and Arcade, that annoying crony. Locke, Arcade’s dom, has kidnapped the loved ones of the X-Men (Moira MacTaggart, Jean Grey’s parents, Illyana Rasputin and Amanda Sefton) in order to blackmail them into getting Doom to free Arcade. Apparently, Arcade accidentally insulted Doom and DOOM DOES NOT FORGIVE THAT FOLLY.

While the B-Squad (Polaris, Havok, Banshee and Iceman) goes to save Arcade’s hostages, the X-Men sneak into Doom’s castle. Well, except for Storm, who doesn’t give a single fuck and simply flies up to Doom, demanding an audience. Doom likes the cut of her jib and invites her to have dinner. (This is pre-Tinder, so this is a legit way of scoring a date.)

If Storm has a flaw (I said if!), it’s got to be her atrocious taste in men. (Uncanny X-Men 145)

The X-Men find Arcade’s cell empty, while Arcade casually saunters up to Storm and says hi. Storm realizes too late that this is a trap: while the X-Men are all trapped in Saw-like traps, Storm is encased in ‘living chrome’.

If you remember she’s claustrophobic, you know why this is a bad move.

While the X-Men free themselves from their traps - Polaris hilariously has to deal with a murderous merry-go-round - Storm is slowly driven mad in her prison, triggering a worldwide tempest. (She causes Lee and Scott to shipwreck.) Under the threat of Wolverine’s claws, Doom releases Storm - or rather, unleashes her.

“Instead of a Dark Lord, you would have a queen, not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Tempestuous as the sea, and stronger than the foundations of the earth! All shall love me and despair!” (Uncanny X-Men 147)

The memory of Jean brings Ororo back to herself and she starts undoing the superstorm she created. (If only climate change were reversed that easily.) Their confrontation ends by Storm easily forgiving Doom, because she apparently trespassed on his grounds without adequate cause.

Mkay.

All of Arcade’s hostages return to their homesteads, except for Illyana Rasputin, Piotr’s sister: she’s staying at the mansion for a while. Angel, who’s sort of been a part of the team since the Phoenix thing, has had it with Wolverine and his ‘tude, and decides to quit the X-Men : he doesn’t want to be a part of an outfit that has a killer like Wolverine on it. (Or maybe he’s just mad Claremont didn’t give him any storylines: his presence has been mostly pointless.) It’s too bad he left before Kitty started experimenting with her outfits: I bet he would have loved her ugly-ass costumes.

Equally inconsequential is the introduction of a brand new character, who then proceeds to disappear from the narrative for the rest of the year:

Black Tom has tried to kill you at least twice, but him sending you a long-lost daughter doesn’t give you pause? Ugh, Sean, you deserve Moira. (Uncanny X-Men 148)

Intrigued by Theresa? TOO BAD, WON’T SEE HER AGAIN ANYTIME SOON.

Another new character is the lonely, decidedly mutant looking Caliban, who can sense “people like him” and is on the lookout for companions. Like many lonely people who try and grasp at friendship, he decides to overshoot his shot and ruin the night of Storm, Kitty and Jessica Drew at a Dazzler concert. Because he tries to kidnap Kitty, the girls react a trifle aggressively. When they realize their mistake - the eerily pale Caliban is a simpleton rather than a menace - he’s already fled. No mention is made of the Morlocks yet!

There’s also another dull annual where the X-Men team up with the Fantastic Four to save Arkon’s dimension from the Badoon and yaaaaawn. Far more interesting is the landmark issue #150. Slowly, through the adventures of Scott and Lee Forrester, Claremont has been setting things up for the return of a favorite villain. While the X-Men investigate Magneto’s old base in Antarctica on a hunch of Professor X and tangle with Garruk, Scott and Lee survive Storm’s tempest, only to wake up next to a strange island that seems to have been raised from the ocean.

It’s apparently some ancient citadel from a long forgotten civilization with a fondness for squid statues. (I don’t know man, I’ve never been to the Bermuda Triangle, maybe this is just super-accurate.)The tentacles make Lee Forrester feel very amorous, but before Scott can tell her he is way too repressed to just have sex with an attractive someone he’s known intimately for a month or two, Magneto saves his ass by revealing he, in fact, raised this island from the seafloor.

Oh, Magneto. So extra.

My ambitious little mutant demagogue then proceeds to take the entire world hostage, showing how much he’s grown from the pompous, raving madman from the sixties. (Sure, Magneto is still a bit of a madman, but increasingly, he starts being on the right side of history.)

“I’m trying to make Magneto more sympathetic.”

“Just put him on a page with some bigger villains who are less noble, like the Vanisher, Count Nefaria, or…”

“Reagan, Thatcher and Brezhnov?”

“Er.” (Uncanny X-Men 150)

It’s obvious Magneto is being pivoted as a more noble villain, codified into the well-intentioned extremist we know and love today. Not only do we get the first hints at his past, fleshing out his motivations, he’s also not wrong. Humans are historically not great at taking care of the planet or each other.

When the Russians call his bluff and launch nukes at Magneto’s new island, he quickly disarms them. His retribution is swift and ferocious: the entire citadel is a machine that massively amplifies his powers. He sinks the submarine that launched the missiles, condemning the entire crew to death, and he casually erects a vulcano in a Russian city in Siberia.

Damn. Not messing around this time.

Despite his good intentions, Magneto is still definitely in the wrong: not only because of his methods, but as Scott points out: if Magneto unifies the world under his kind of benevolent dictatorship, all of that will simply fall apart as soon as Magnus dies.

In a way, Magneto is just as big a dreamer as Charles is: Charles believes in peace and integration, whereas Magneto believes his iron fist will be enough to make a perfect world happen. Both of them ignore the reality that acceptance is difficult and messy, because you’re trying to change essential human nature: the fear of the other. Magneto believes in big, sweeping gestures that will fix the world in move, while changing the world is also boring, hard work. One step forward, two steps back. Magneto just wants to leapfrog to his ultimate goal.

The X-Men fly over the citadel, returning from Antarctica, and their plane crashes into the ocean. (Magneto does not brook planes over his territory, humans!) The Professor is also nearby, looking for Scott with Moira, Peter Corbeau and Carol Danvers. The X-Men sneak onto the island, but to their horror, their powers are nullified by some machine of Magneto. They reunite with Scott, who formulates a plan to thwart the would-be ruler of the world.

While the rest of the X-Men go to trash the machine, Storm, Kitty and Lee infiltrate the control chamber where Storm finds a sleeping, shirtless Magneto. Once again showing her terrible taste in men, she is not weak in the knees at the sight of a sleeping Magnus: instead, she contemplates killing him.

Storm knows how dangerous he is, but she also knows that he’s a great man who’s fighting for ideals, no matter how misguided. She hesitates too long: Magneto stirs, suspects an attack and tosses her out of the window, to her death.

Magneto quickly undoes the sabotage the other X-Men have wrought to his machine. A fight erupts. Storm, meanwhile, has managed to grab hold of a ledge. She crawls back up and smashes an important-looking computer, restoring everyone’s powers.

The battle turns grim, but Scott sends Kitty away to wreck Magneto’s machinery. She sneaks off, following Scott’s orders and destroying both Magneto's power-up device and all of his plans by phasing though the computer circuitry. Magneto senses this and furiously gives chase. Overcome by rage, he attacks Kitty and disrupts her phasing power with a magnetic bolt, seemingly killing her?

Everything about this story beat is great: mama bear!Ororo, mournful Magnus and even the fact that Kitty’s godawful outfit serves a narrative function: highlighting to us (and Magneto) just how young she is. The fact that Kitty’s Jewish is just icing on the cake. (Uncanny X-Men 150)

And thus, the softening of Magneto commences. 1981 might be a year with wildly varying narratives, but it has given us at least three enduring legacies to the X-Mythos: a new kind of Magneto, a fondness for dystopian futures and the character of Kitty Pryde, who's really come into her own this year.

Ugliest Costume: Kitty! Purposefully, but still. Best costume, by the way, goes to Destiny, with her creepy, creepy golden mask. Just imagine this lady casually strolling across a battlefield, eerily calm and collected, dodging everything you throw at her. Awesome design.

Best new character: I usually pick one character - what good is having a shared award when declaring the best of anything? - but this year, it’s going to one of my favorite couples: Mystique and Destiny. Can’t wait to see more of them.

Most audacious retcon: Blob somehow retroactively becomes a member of the original Brotherhood, which is not what happened. Ever weirder is Xavier pondering that he never met Magneto before his attack in X-Men #1, while their cordially adversarial relationship rooted in a youthful friendship would soon become a cornerstone of the X-Men.

What to read: Uncanny X-Men 141 - 143 and 150 - 152

[jellyraindrops]

Woken up by Fred Weasley -A PLATONIC Fred Weasley x Reader One shot

This is going to be super short, basically Y/N is super close with Fred Weasley, but their relationship is like brother and sister. Just describes a typical Saturday morning with Fred. Also in this one, Y/N is a Gryffindor. I can write some more with different houses later on if you all would like! I just chose Gryffindor randomly. Also, Y/N is in her 5th year, the twins their 6th.

Warnings: Cursing, I think.

..............................................................................................................................

Y/N opened her bright E/C orbs.

IM JUST KIDDING. no orbs in this fic. or anywhere else on my Tumblr.

*ahem*

You tossed and turned in your bed as the noises from the common room became louder, waking you up slowly.

"what the fuck are they yelling about this early in the morning?" you muttered under your breath. It wasn't unusual for the common room to be loud, but you wanted to take advantage of the free time you had on the weekends to sleep in. You groggily turned around to your alarm clock, seeing that it was not, in fact, early.

'9:47 am' it read.

"Oh shit" you thought. You stayed absolutely still, dreading the fact that the twins may have booby trapped the floorboards under your bed, or that a carton of eggs would come crashing down on your head. It was a widely known fact in the Gryffindor Tower that if you woke up later than 8:30, you were more likely to succumb to the twin's pranks.

In all honesty, the twins tended to take it a bit easier on you with their pranks (only slightly, very slightly). Wether this was because of your close relationship with them, or because of that one time where they gave you a candy that was supposed to make you calm and relaxed (to seem believable when telling lies) and it ended up giving the exact opposite effects, which ended in you nearly drowning them both in the prefects bathroom. To make it long story short.

You then heard footsteps by your door. Taking note of the longer pauses between the steps, and the energetic yet heavy sound, you concluded them to be Fred's.

You closed your eyes, and buried your face in your pillow, to make it seem that you were asleep. And then you started praying that you wouldn't have to walk down to breakfast with singed hair, or rainbow colored eyebrows. That was a common occurrence if you weren't careful.

"Y/N? Are you alive? George bet that you'd died, and I bet him that you're still alive. Answer if your heart is still beating", Fred's voice called out from the other side.

"Y/N. Y/N." A pause. "Alright, we'll meet you at breakfast then!"

You smiled to yourself and started to take off the covers when you heard your door swing open with a bang, and saw a ginger flash of color bolt towards your bed.

'Oh god, this is how I'm going to die', you thought to yourself.

Soon after you felt a large mass slam down on your body, knocking the air out of you. You wheezed as the weight rolled off of you, taking your covers with it. You shivered, as the warmth was suddenly replaced by the cool air of the room. You'd been sleeping in a random T-Shirt and some sleeping pants, but to be honest, neither were quite warm.

You heard an 'oof' and the sound of a body hitting the floor, and you peered over the edge of your bed to find Fred Weasley tangled in your bed sheets, clearly struggling to get out of it.

You let yourself cackle, and sat down on the floor next to Fred.

"Morning, Y/L/N!", Fred exclaimed, his head poking out from under the sheets.

"Morning Weasley."

"Are you going to help me out of this, or just sit there?", he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You pretended to think as you said, "I'm not sure..."

"Aw come on, Y/N. I'm your best friend," he pouted.

"No"

"Why not?"

"Oh, I don't know...maybe because YOU LITERALLY THREW ALL 300 POUNDS OF YOURSELF ONTO ME, AND KNOCKED THE AIR OUT OF ME!"

Fred laughed. "You're off by about 100 pounds cheesecake."

"Don't call me that."

"Why, do you not LOVE cheesecake??"

You cringed, remembering the time in your 2nd year when you were determined to beat Ron at an eating contest, and you puked the cheesecake desserts that you had to eat. It was horrible. Fred and George bullied you for MONTHS.

"Still don't. Besides, it sounds cringe. I hope you don't call your girlfriend that," you said.

"I don't even have a girlfriend," Fred said, tilting his head.

"I know, just reminding you," you said smiling as you got up to get your clothes.

"Hey!"

After helping Fred out of the mess HE caused, you made him help you make your bed. It honestly would have been quicker if you had done it yourself, since Fred insisted on explaining everything he was doing step by step.

Eventually, you were able to make your way down to the common room.

"Aw shoot, I guess you won Fred," George said, looking up and waving at you. "I for sure though you had died, Y/N."

"Good morning to you too, George." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "What did you guys even bet? I though you were broke."

"George can't eat any pumpkin pasties this morning, and that means more for me!" Fred replied, licking his lips in anticipation.

"Not if I eat all of them first!" you said, bolting for the door.

"Hey!"

I hope you all enjoyed this! I think this is the first one-shot/fanfic that I've written on Tumblr. Let me know if you all would like to see some more in the future! I'm open to requests! (Except smut, Im sorry, but I cannot for the life of me read or write smut T-T. If you do, don't feel bad though! I'm just saying its just not for me. I mean, I dont mind writing some spicy make our sessions or anything like that, so that's totally doable!)

[princesspiratecat]

The Rise and Fall of the Shepard Family Finale Part 2:  Fall 1085

Part 1& Part 2

Part 3 & Part 4

Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7

Part 8 & Part 9 & Part 10

Part 11 & Part 12 & Part 13

Part 14 & Part 15 & Part 16

Part 17 & Part 18 & Part 19

Part 20 & Part 21 & Part 22

Part 23 & Part 24 & Part 25

Part 26 & Part 27 & Part 28

Part 29  Finale Part 1

“Llywelyn? His name is Llywelyn?” Frances was incredibly confused. “Where did you get these letters?”

“Under the bed. Morwena found them while she was cleaning. Please continue.”

                                            Llywelyn & Algarda

According to the seven letters stashed away in the box, they had both been very young and had met while Llywelyn had served as a mercenary soldier under Aélgarda’s father, a Saxon Ealdorman that had died by the hand of the bastard King in 1067. Both of them had been in their prime and Aélgarda was considered something of a ginger-haired beauty. There were expectations that she would make a grand marriage.

Gwendolyn had heard her father talk about his time fighting for the Saxons before. Her mother had also said that her father had been a fine soldier. He was well respected and handsome, dangerous with a sword, and had a promising career ahead of him.

They had danced together during several feasts at her father’s estate in Chester, and eventually became clandestine lovers. They knew her father would never allow such a match to take place, as there had already been a match made for Aélgarda by the time they met. But the man in question was never mentioned again after the second letter.

They continued their affair for a little over two years, but he was gone most of the time. He eventually got her with child. 

Shortly after, he had been sent up north to fight off Norse raiders, and he promised to come back for her and marry her as soon as he was able. Sometime after his departure she wrote that she had suffered a miscarriage, and after six months, he still had not returned. There were no more letters after that.

After they had read them all, and then read them again, they both took some time to digest what had been written. There seemed to be more questions than answers within each letter. Had Llywelyn followed Aélgarda, even though they were both already married? Was Frédérique the daughter of Llywelyn? Had they continued their affair after Gwendolyn’s mother had died? Together, Frances and Gwendolyn tried their best to sort out the pieces of the puzzle and make them fit into a kind of timeline that might give them answers.

“My father talked about his days in Chester on more than one occasion. Is it near Wales?”

“Yes. It’s near the border of Whales, west of here.”

“So, the man in the letters must be my father. Although my father couldn’t read, so how could he have read these? A third person would have had to have been involved, and they would have needed to be very discreet. That’s quite a risk to take!”

“I agree. Yet it happens all the time, you’d be surprised at how many Nobles can’t read. And yet, I would have taken the same risk if I knew I would not see you for  months at a time.” 

Frances knew that in 1066 Aélgarda ran off to marry Marcelle and gave birth to Frédérique the same year, which was when Gwendolyn had also been born. They journeyed to the Humber River in 1070 from Rotherham, a small market town. Frances had only been two and Gwendolyn four. Unlike Frances, Gwendolyn remembered the journey to Grimsby, and she remembered what had come after.

“It could not have been mere coincidence that your family arrived here around the same time, and in the same location, as my family. Especially considering how long of a journey it is,” he said.

They both wondered on what grounds Llywelyn had sought her out. Was it because they wanted to be together, or had he been looking for employment? Most of the great men Llywelyn had served were already dead or had had their lands seized by the crown. So it was a real possibility that he sought her out for protection, especially since she had married a Norman man.

“He needed work. I remember we had to sell one of his beloved swords just to have enough to eat. It was a desperate time.”

The other possibility was that he knew Frédérique was his daughter and wanted to be near her. Frédérique had invited Gwendolyn to their estate several times, and each time Llywelyn had accompanied her. He could have watched her from afar, and that might have been enough for him.

“That would explain my father’s behavior. He must have thought that Frédérique was not his child, regardless of what the truth really is. Since he knew of your father’s indiscretions with Olric’s wife, he must have also questioned my brother’s parentage as well! I can’t imagine how it must have plagued his mind! The proof is in his treatment of them and their piteous inheritance.”

“Of course! And it completely explains his treatment of me, although it does also speak to his vengeful character. Now I understand why he sent us away, we were reminders of my father. Your mother wanted to protect us, for my father’s sake! ”

He nodded, remembering everything that had happened with a tinge of shame.

He could see Gwendolyn’s mind racing now, and Frances knew he would have to tell her everything that had happened the night his father had broken off their engagement. It was something he had not gotten around to doing, mostly because he had wanted them to forget. He took a deep breath. 

“I fear I have not told you everything that my father said the night he cut off our engagement. But let me tell you now. According to him, she actually wanted us to marry and had pushed it from nearly the moment you arrived here.”

“What?!”

He then relayed everything that had occurred that night in it’s entirety. How his mother long considered Llywelyn an honorable man due to his serving the Welsh king. How she had not only preferred for him a match with Gwendolyn over the Merchants, but that she had actually helped to arrange it. He told her of his anger and how he had camped out under the stars, which had been the reason why he never got a chance to say goodbye.

“For a long time I didn’t think about what he meant, because I had been too angry. But then I realized she had arranged for us to walk together, alone. Do you remember all those times she said she was too busy to come with us?” Gwendolyn nodded. “Well, she knew I already liked you, and wanted you to break off the match with Oswald and marry me instead. She must have figured that time alone together would make us fall in love.”

“That is why they sent him away! According to Frédérique, he came to visit me twice, and both times he had been sent away. Did you know that?”

“No. But it hardly surprises me. For his part, I know my father initially agreed because you had a good dowry, you were an heiress of a rather small fortune. But after he had already helped himself to it, he must have gotten ahold of the letters and used them to further justify his cause. Or, he read the letters and then spent your dowry. I’m not sure which.”

Gwendolyn’s eyes bulged at this information, and she had to sit down. It was an incredible story, and one that she would not have believed if she had not have seen it unfold with her own eyes. 

“So, I have been groomed me for the position of being your wife! Why did you not tell me of this before?!”

Frances shrugged. “It is a painful memory to speak of, and I didn’t want to stir up fresh anguish for you. You’ve suffered enough already. What good would have come of it?” Gwendolyn acknowledged there was merit in his reason, but chided him for not giving her the choice of knowing. 

“You’re right. I should have told you when I first found you. I’m sorry.” But her mind was racing again and she hardly heard what he had said. 

“He must have discovered the letters after Aélgarda’s death, as there can be no other explanation. She must have hidden them away somewhere and he, or someone else, discovered them. He refused our marriage and sent me away to get back at them both, even after they were dead!”

“Yes, he was petty and vengeful. What I want to know is what on earth made her keep them? That I cannot understand!  Did your father return them? Or did she somehow get them back after he died? Maybe Llywelyn had them and my father got them after he sold your property. Have you ever seen this box before?”

“No, never. It’s too fine a box to have escaped my notice. If he did have them, he certainly would not have put them in that box. In fact, I do not recall her ever visiting us when my father was alive either. Only Marcelle came to collect rents and sup with us. He and my father used to talk business. He used to bring us cherries.”

Neither one of them spoke for some time, as they were busy going over the facts in their own heads. They both agreed that had Marcelle known then about the letters, he would not have been so kind. Although Frances didn’t agree with his father’s ways, he could at least understand him a bit better. 

“He never was unfaithful to my Mother that any of us knew about, so it must have shattered him to read these letters. He had once loved her very much... as much as a man like my father can love anyone. I do not believe that any of my siblings were sired by Llywelyn- not even Frédérique. We look too much alike, and I see nothing of you in her face. Now that I think of it, you were born the same year as Frédérique, so Llywelyn would have had to have been a very busy man for all that to have happened in only a year! And it means my mother would have had to lie about losing her baby. Yet if she loved him, why would she do that? It’s quite clear from the letters that she loved him very much.”

“Unless she thought she would never see him again. She may have lied in order to marry your Father, whom had come from a noble family. Perhaps she figured that she would be better off with a well connected Norman than a poor Welsh solider. She could have been forced to do it for the greater good, to protect your sister.”

“I doubt it. But it is possible.....” a look of worry crossed his face, and then hint of anger.

In the end they both agreed that no good could possibly come from keeping the letters, as it called into question the parentage of too many. It also painted three of their four parents in a very unfavorable light. 

The facts were there. Aélgarda had been lovers with not one, but two men while engaged to someone else of her father’s choosing. Llywelyn had been a seducer of women and clearly had no respect for the marital status of others. Marcelle had been a miser and a thief who sought revenge on helpless children, even children that were most likely his own.

 Frances lifted the parchment to the fireplace and stared at the contents. It angered him to know that such small things had caused so much anguish to him, and his wife especially.

“Let them burn,” he sneered, as he tossed one of the letters into the fire. “I know the truth. I know what a good wife she was to him, and what she meant to us, and that’s really all that matters. She was no whore, and I won’t have anyone speak of her that way, ever!”

“Let us burn them all,” Gwendolyn said. 

When the house was quiet and still, they made their way downstairs and watched as the fire flickered while hungrily devouring the remaining letters. It went unspoken, but they each understood they would tell no one of them.

“Are you ashamed of our parents?” He asked her while he watched the bright orange light reflected in her eyes. It was one of those rare moments that he really had no idea what she was thinking. He pulled up chairs for them both so they could sit awhile without being heard.

“Yes....and no. In some ways I am shocked, but in others, I feel relieved to know the answers now. Your father’s behavior towards myself had always weighed on me, because I blamed myself. Now I know it was because of nothing I did, but because of what I represented. He used my father’s status as an excuse, but it was really not the reason.” She pinched the corners of her mouth, then turned back to the fire. 

“Yet the feeling that seems to make the biggest impression on me, is one of their love. Despite everything, I’m glad they had been lovers, and I’m happy that she still held my father in high regard even after his death. She wanted to honor him by honoring his children, and for that, I will always honor her.” Her heart felt easier now, and she almost found the situation humorous. Almost. 

They treaded up the stairs to their chambers. It had been a long, exhausting evening.

Gwendolyn chuckled to herself. “What I really want to know is, who was the man she was originally engaged to? He must have been quite awful for her to have chosen a mercenary soldier and a Norman over a match her father preferred! The poor fellow. I feel a bit bad for him.”

Frances was more wistful. He didn’t like talking about his family, as there was so much he didn’t know, and so much to resent. Would they have survived if they had allied with the King or a powerful Norman family such as his father’s? What would it take for the King to stop his sheer brutality to the Saxon people? By the time his reign was over, would there be anything left of their language, or laws, or culture?

“Perhaps he died before anything ever came of it. The Saxons paid a heavy price to the Danes with many lives, even before the King conquered these lands. And after, all of the men on her side were completely wiped away, as if they had never existed at all. Their fortunes, that had taken decades to build, were the first thing to go. Her family was one of the wealthiest and most powerful, and now there is nothing but dust. Sometimes I wonder that I was born at all. It truly seems a miracle.”

She sensed his sadness and caressed his cheek, then embraced him.

“It is a miracle. You’re a testament to the power of love amid war. Whatever happens in the world, love always seems to have a way of burning bright, sometimes even against all odds.” He smiled at her words because they were wise beyond her years, and they were true. He thought of his mother then, and how it was love that had driven and guided her throughout most of her life.

She had gotten her wish.

[savagenutella46]

Who I’d Be - 2 of 2

Part 1 <- did I do that right? Sorry in advance.

Inspired by m3owww’s statue of ice

"She can't know, Timmy." Marinette whispers, wincing at the tight grip Tim has on her elegant green-silk dress, clutching it so hard wrinkles begin to form. Janet will have her head for those later.

They're standing in the corner, shouldered off from the rest of the Gala by a lone velvet curtain covering the long window sitting beside them, while Tim grasps onto her dress and pleads.

"Why not? She'd love to come! She'd be so proud of you." Marinette winced again, the wholly untruth of those words invisible to her twelve-year old brother, who's eyes are so innocent and excited. She looks down at him with a brief smile, and gently extracts her dress from his hold.

"Timothy." A pointed look, to show she is done with arguing with him about the conversation. "I assure you, Janet will not know of the exhibit prior to your mouth, so you will do your best to shut it." Formal language with Tim will always turn the sparkle off in his eye, the excited glint disappearing, and as much as it brings a hammering wallow to her heart, she swallows the regret harshly down her throat.

"Look, Tim. She's never been a fan of my photography. She would rather go to your parent-teacher conference." She plasters on a fake smile as she says the words, and they practically grind against her teeth as they fall out of her mouth.

He's been begging her to tell their mother about the photography exhibit for days on end now, and she can't give in now. He doesn't know about what happened to her old camera, and he never will. It was in pieces by the end of dinner, that day.

Tim sags his shoulders and sighs, putting on an unimpressed look at the mention of parent-teacher conferences. "Whatever." He turns around and reenters the ongoing Gala without another word.

Marinette swallows her plea for him to come back, please, and sighs. She looks down at the wrinkles in her—

—satin dress, and Janet, an almost unnoticeable twitch of her jaw, displays her disdain for the tiny creases at her hip. Marinette breathes a sigh of relief and feels a drop of sweat roll down the side of her neck when Janet turns back to the fellow business partner she had been conversing with before Marinette caught her attention by walking back into the room.

"Are you okay?" She flinches at the unexpected hand on her shoulder—jumps a little too noticeably to just be nerves, settling once she notes the hand is smaller than Jack's.

Marinette turns around, and suddenly, her vision is spilled over with a bright worried blue peering into her own eyes, searching for anything and everything, leaving her bare, almost as if they were stripping the secrets from her very own soul.

She must've looked surprised, because the voice quickly started to speak again, soothing her downtrodden nerves with a surprisingly gentle voice. "Sorry, you looked backed up for a moment there." Marinette clears her throat and spares a quick—panicked—glance back at Janet's back before settling back on the boy, who's followed her gaze with an almost imperceptible furrow in his eyebrow.

"It's fine, did you need something?" The boy's lips quirk up for a second before flickering his gaze down to her midsection and up again.

"Your hands are bleeding." Marinette's eyebrows shoot up, tearing away her eyes from the boy to take a glance at her clenched hands, where her nails have penetrated the skin and blood was oozing out.

"Oh," She breathes, and unclenches the fingers from their grip to reveal crescent-shaped welts in the heel of her palms. The boy takes a warm and surprisingly gentle hand to each of hers and begins to tug her along the floor, almost bumping into several ladies with long, expensive dresses who each took a turn to glare at her once they saw who was dragging her.

Huh, they must not be a fan of this guy.

"So, what's your name?" She turns her gaze back to him, and he's already peering at her with a slight turn of his head and a tiny grin. She never knew such a small upturn of lips could convey so much emotion, so much gentleness, but she finds herself not wanting to tear her eyes away from it.

"Oh, Uh—Marinette, Marinette Drake."

"Jason Todd." She swallows harshly as she realizes just who he is.

"You—"

"Yeah. Not really a big deal." He turns his head back to watch where he's going, and she finds herself going cold under the loss of Jason's gaze. Marinette mentally scolds herself and lets him pull her into a secluded room away from the Gala, momentarily breaking away to grab a first-aid kit from a fancy wooden cabinet.

Jason rummages through the white kit, "That woman, she's your mom?" She can almost decipher an undertone of scorn from his voice. Marinette coughs and looks away, a prickly feeling rattling its way up her arms and fingers at the slightly mention of her mother.

"Yes." The painting on the beige walls looks very interesting right now as she feels the weight of his piercing stare on her shoulders.

"Figured. She was lookin' at you real weird. Like she wanted to shoot an arrow in between your eyeballs." Marinette's head snaps back to Jason, and he has a skeptical look on his face, like he thinks...

No. He's wrong.

Whatever he's thinking, it's wrong.

—But, still, it hurts to wonder.

"You know, I've heard about Jack and Janet Drake, but I've never heard of you. Just Tim, that's his name, right?" She nods, turning her gaze back to the small wrinkles in her once magnificent green dress.

"I tend to keep out of the limelight. Less people to judge me." She hears a huff of laughter from right in front of her, and looks back up to see Jason kneeling before her hands, gently taking both of them in his warm hands, wiping away the blood with a cotton ball.

"I understand that. Still weird though, never would've guessed you even existed if I hadn't seen you right in front of me." The atmosphere around them was slowly starting to get uncomfortable, and Marinette feels as if a frog jumped in her throat and planted itself at the base of her lungs, scratching and strangling her.

"W-weird." She'd never been one for receiving public praise or glory. Never had her parents talk about her with a twinkle in their eye and a found sense of pride in their voice and posture, as if she were the best thing in their lives. No, instead they confined Marinette to her bedroom to waste away.

(What they didn't know, there was a rope she would swing down from her vast window, escaping through the abundant gardens to escape to the library.)

Jason hums in agreement, but not without a disbelieving glance in her direction. Not like she was looking anyway, feeling a nervous sweat start to form on the back of her neck as she stated hard at his hands, who are making their way back down to his own lap.

"All good." She wishes it could be that easy. To slap a bandaid on all the things that made her worthless, and finish the whole ordeal off with an “all good”.

But, no. This is not an “ordeal”. This is her livelihood, her existence. She is—

Who is she?

She’s putting up her photography on her appointed wall space. Snapshots of Gotham at her finest, smog floating through the air, the dim glow of lights as they spill onto the leaf-littered streets. The assault of dirty rain, like cold, hard truth spilling onto the leaves of sweet lies she almost surrounds herself with.

Because she defines herself with photography. She defines herself into computers, hacking the Pentagon at least twice a week.

But, photography without her, it stays the same. Marinette without a passion, she dies and wilts away under the scornful glare of her mother. She is hated, worthless, disgusting, mortifying to mention, as if the utter of her name will bring disgrace upon the Drakes.

Marinette is wearing her finest dress. Leaf-like structures sewn into the bodice, streaking their way down her waist and puffing out to follow the soft ivory dress.

“Woah.” Marinette could’ve sworn, even as someone stands very obviously behind her, looking over her shoulder, that she did not tell a soul about this exhibit.

—Except Barbara Gordon. Marinette turns around, and Barbara appears to be ethereal before her own eyes, ginger hair curled and spilling like a waterfall down her back. A deep mahogany dress fits around her, as if it’s made solely  for the capable woman.

“Babs, you made it.” (Because, Barbara would kill her if she called her anything different.)

Barbara smiles beautifully at Marinette and slaps the boy next to her on the back—the one her uttered such a defining, yet normal word under her work. (Woah—she never thought her work was capable of such a word.)

It’s Jason Todd standing next to Barbara, looking quite fancy himself and staring at her with an awe she’s never seen on anyone before. Marinette smiles at him with familiarity, eyebrows slightly furrowing when he tears his gaze away, suddenly, and a red tint blooms across his cheekbones.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t, besides, this is worth it.” Barbara pulls her gaze back with a warm voice. She continues, “Where’s your parents?” She turns her head and scans over the crowd, before returning back to Marinette with a questioning look. Suddenly, Jason’s eyes are back on her as well.

She fiddles with her thumbs, taken aback by such a question. “Um, uh, they’re—“ Sitting at home, arguing with each other. (They’d decided to skip Tim’s parent teacher conference, for the boy was top of his class, what more did they need to know?) “They’re—they couldn’t make it.”  She coughs, ignoring the apologetic eyes before her.

“So! What do you think?” She smiles, quickly changing the subject, and even though their gazes remain the same for a second, they quickly agree with her non-verbal plea to change the subject.

“It’s great—“

“Wonderful. How do you get your shots so high up? You’d need to be awfully skilled to do that. The amount of dark to light shots of Gotham contrasts perfectly with each other, really shows the side we don’t see.” Jason listed, keeping his eyes on the photos the entire time.

Marinette opens her mouth, gaping at Jason. She’s sure Barbara is doing the same without looking at the older, judging on the cricket-inducing silence coming from Marinette’s left.

Jason seemingly snaps back to reality, shutting his mouth audibly and clearing his throat. “Sorry, you just...” And Marinette finds it in herself to talk once again.

“Thank you, that...really means a lot to me.” Jason looks back at her, and she smiles widely at him, a real, genuine smile she’s sure she’s never produced in her fifteen years.

Jason smiles back with the same intensity and continues to rattle off compliments, ones she knows is coming from his heart, because there’s a heavy blush on his face the entire time.

Maybe she’s found her passion. Maybe this is who she is, because, standing under the bright museum lights, standing next to two unexpected—but welcome— friends who acknowledge her worth, she’s found herself.

She’s Marinette. Just Marinette.

This is who she is. She is something. She is everything she’s ever wanted to be.

Taglist: @jjmjjktth @moonlightstar64 @laurcad123

[ithehellisbucky]

Pieces- Part 2 of For You

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Requested: by @ginger-swag-rapunzel

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Brief suicidal idealation, PTSD, break up, extreme loneliness, one (1) sex mention

Author’s Note: Only 45 fucking minutes late. And a month. I also wrote this while watching Jefferson's first OUAT episode. Anyways yeah cool.

Part 1- For You

~

You missed Bucky more than anything. It's hard not to miss someone you care about far more than yourself, and even more painful to know that you are the reason you can't hold them.

It had been about 4 months since you and Bucky had broken up. You didn't count. Partially because some days you didn't get to sleep for 38 hours straight, and on others you slept for the entire day. So, counting is kind of hard when you don't know from day to day what the date actually is.

You slept in a hotel for a few days after you left Bucky, and when you came back he was gone. In a haste, you moved all of your stuff out of the house and stuck a post-it note that read "I'm sorry" on the fridge.

All the while you had to keep reminding yourself; it's for Bucky, it's for him, your doing this because you love him.

No matter how much you whispered to yourself or cried yourself to sleep, or scrolled through your camera roll at 3 pm in bed, you still felt guilty. It was your fault, and even if leaving him was a misguided notion, you made your bed and now you have to sleep in it.

It took about a week for the notifications to start coming in; 'The Winter Soldier spotted with Baron Zemo in Madripoor' 'Anarchist Super Super Soldier Group The Flag Smashers makes another Terrorist Attack in Lithaunia' 'Sam Wilson Declared Captain America After John Walker Steps down and Becomes US Agent'. They always say you shouldn't stalk your ex on social media, but it's kind of hard when he's in the headlines.

All in all, even though it broke you, Bucky seemed to be doing much better without you than he ever had when you had been together. You fell asleep looking at those headlines and telling yourself that you had done the right thing.

Some days you forgot why you had even broken up in the first place, and then it hit you again, like an arrow laced in arsenic. He was stuck. The one thing that you had never wanted him to be; trapped.

He had been trapped for his entire life, in the Great Depression, then in a war, he didn't understand, and then by Hydra for 70 years. He had been stuck in pain and uncomfortability for so long, that being stuck with you was breaking him from the inside out without him even knowing it.

You wanted him, and he wanted you. It was just that you were the only thing in his life, and he can't live like that. He can't live inside of himself and inside of your apartment forever. It was just you, his therapist, and Yori. One time when your phone died you asked if you could use his, and when you did the only apps on his phone were a search engine, contacts, email, voicemail, and calling and texting. And there were two contacts. You and his therapist.

That was when you realized there was something broken with how he was living. Not even broken, but cracked, and there was something much worse about the thought of it exploding and breaking him, than you leaving before the floodgates opened and letting him notice the cracks and mend it.

He needed to live the life he was robbed of. You can't go back in time and pull him back onto the train, or get Steve to stay, but you can make sure that he has a future that isn't only you. So that's exactly what you did.

So you found a new apartment, went back to your job, watched movies, masturbated in bed. And as you lied awake at night you realized that in the process of fixing Bucky's crack, you chiseled your own.

And that was when, in the middle of the night, you realized that you had ruined the only good thing that had ever happened to you. Everything else had been "pretty great". Your job was okay, your childhood was fine, your social life was tolerable, but Bucky, Bucky was something else.

Bucky was incredible.

And you had ruined it.

Your twisted brain thought that you were saving him, and maybe you were, but in the process, you had shattered yourself to pieces, and you were far too exhausted to pick any of them up. So you sat on the floor, the pieces of yourself scattered around you on the floor. Just emptiness. The large, cuddly hole that Bucky left in your heart, aching to be filled, but alas it remained empty.

Your friends had made many, many desperate attempts to urge you back into society. But all of it failed. You went clubbing... and sobbed in the bathroom after you kissed a stranger. You went to bars... and sobbed in the bathroom when a stranger bought you a drink. You went to your boss' daughter's wedding... And sobbed in the bathroom.

I think you get it by now, your breakup involved a lot of crying in public restrooms.

Honestly, the most 'social events' you did was leaning on the cool glass in the frozen foods aisle while you waited for one of the employees to "check in the back" for Mozzarella sticks. You thought that they were just going to go in the back and play on their phone for 2-4 minutes, and nearly sobbed when they came back with two boxes of family-size Mozzarella Sticks.

All in all, a good day for you.

Bucky had taken everything from you. Not in a horrible or miserable way, just in a way that he had taken all of the darkness and resentment and bundled it away in a small place where you couldn't see it anymore. And now that he was gone, it was slowly seeping through the cracks that you had caused.

You missed him. You missed Bucky so much.

It was a sunny day, and your coworker and kinda friend were going on a fishing trip. You surprised yourself and said yes if worse came to worse you could jump off the boat and try to drown yourself. You were pretty sure she had a lifeguard certification, but hey, at least that would give you a few days in the hospital and some pity points that could ward off anyone trying to invite you to a single's mixer ever again.

It was a miserable ride from your miserable apartment to the miserable docks. You grabbed your sunglasses, your towel, and a flask of vodka you hide in your clothes. You didn't have enough self-respect to pack sunscreen, so you grabbed your jacket and left your car.

On your way to your coworker's boat, you hear laughter and screams of joy. You don't intend to turn around or even see whoever's happiness it was. Until you heard the voice.

The one voice you had dreamed about every waking and slumbering moment for the past 4 months.

Bucky.

"(Y/n)?"

You stop in place and don't turn around. You debate for a minute staying and talking to him, but one of those laughs must have been his and you couldn't take that away from him. So you keep walking. That is until you feel a hand grab your arm, right above your elbow.

It's his flesh arm; he isn't wearing a glove. He got happy enough not to wear a glove. Without you.

When you turned around and saw Bucky he looked completely different. Everything was the same. His hair was the same length, he was still just as tall, he had all the same scars. But there was still something profoundly different about him. He carried himself taller, his mouth had etches of a smile and his body language was confident and free.

He was only like this when you were alone together, or when you were having sex. And even then he rarely smiled, it was more of a silent comfort.

"Y/n please." He exclaims, his voice is like butter scraping over warm toast. "Just talk to me."

You muster up enough courage to respond to him. "You um, you look good."

"Yeah, you do too." You did not. "So, how are you doing?" He continues, scratching the back of his scalp.

"I'm- I'm okay I guess." You respond, pushing down the sleeves of your jacket slightly. "Uh, how about you?"

"Good, uh, good. Sam fixed up his parent's boat, so we're having a party. And a celebration, for getting the shield back." He said, and you realize that he's still holding your arm.

"Uh, yeah, I um, heard about that, congratulations, I guess." You responded, not having the will to push his hand off of your arm, and relishing the only touch you have yearned for for the last 4 months.

"Yeah," He exclaims quietly, not a whisper and not a mutter, just a quiet phrase of turn.

"Well, I really must be going." You move to turn again, but his grip on your arm remains persistent.

"Please." He pauses, and then says much more quietly, "please don't leave me."

"Bucky, I know you don't understand; but I did it for you." He looks away from you and you reach up to turn his face towards yours, "And- and look, you're so much happier without me. I- I'm sorry but I did it for you."

"Yeah I'm happier, but not because you're not there. I'm happier because I realized that I was free and that I don't have to go back to the 40s to be happier."

"Bucky, everything that you just said proves that you are happier without me."

"Listen, (y/n), You leaving me did help me. It helped me realize that I was alone without you. I desperately tried to find something, anything to fill the void that you left in me. And I found people. I found good people that I love and trust, but that didn't fill the ache you left in me, that just created more space for happiness.

"Thank you, thank you so much for helping me be free, but now that I am, all I want is you. I was wrong and hurt, and I'm angry at myself for letting me get trapped, and I'm angry at you for hurting yourself and me to get me my freedom. But that doesn't mean I don't love you and that I don't want you.

"Because I do love you, and I do want you, and even though we got stuck in a rut, next time I promise you I won't let it happen." He caresses your arm, "I won't make you be the only person in this relationship ever again (y/n), I promise."

You don't say anything. You can't say anything. All you can think about is how much you love him, and his hands on your body and yours on his.

Then your lips meet. You don't know who initiated it and it didn't matter. It was just you, together, with Bucky. A good man and the love of your life. Still broken, but not enough that you couldn't pick up the pieces together.

Requests are open!

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Marvel:

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 3: Grave

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: Grave (EDIT : trying to make it look consistent)

Rated: T

Side note: Tikki and Plagg being the ones who created the Lazarus pits is my favourite bit of Maribat crossover lore. 

Marinette had only known Jason for about a year, ever since that day he commissioned her for a new suit and leather jacket design.  She had seen news reports about the Red Hood, but she had never seen him in person ever since she came to Gotham.  That was until he visited her just as she was getting ready to close up shop.  Marinette needed to know why her mysterious client was asking her to work with a great big bolt of Kevlar.   It seemed like a challenging task for the young boutique owner.  It wasn’t necessarily being used for nefarious purposes. He was a crimefighter, one of many that tried to keep Gotham safe.  Tikki felt like there was something strange about him, but she couldn’t quite put their finger on why.

She didn’t think she’d ever see him again, until one night when there was a loud banging on the boutique door.  Marinette was about to say something about people having no manners when she saw a redhead in a red suit and a green cap…with someone’s arm slung over his shoulder.  Marinette rushed to the front door to find the Red Hood, with his helmet cracked to reveal a part of his face.  She could make out some matted dark hair and a red domino mask around his eye.  “Please, do you think he can lay low in here for a while? At least until we can get him fixed up,” the redhead asked, “we can’t take him to the hospital”.   Marinette looked around before hurrying them inside.

She got to know more about Jason, the person behind the red mask.  There’s only so much you can hide from a person after they end up cleaning and stitching your wounds in their apartment.  He told her that he slept on the streets of Gotham before being taken in by Batman when he was 13.  He told her that, when he was 15, he went on a journey to find his birth mother and he was never the same since.  Jason would say that the old him died that day.  Marinette assumed he meant that he was so drastically changed by the experience, that he was unrecognizable from his old self.  Still, she got to know the person he was in that moment, and that was what mattered.  The two became close and started dating shortly after, and Marinette told him that she had been a superhero since she was 13.  Marinette remembered seeing a worried look on his face, before assuring him that she was up against very different villains from what he was used to in Gotham.  Marinette wondered if he was worried that she could have ended up like him?

Marinette knew that there was a roguish charm to him, possibly a remnant of the young boy he described from his past.  She would occasionally help him as Ladybug, and he became impressed with her quick thinking in a fight.  Marinette told him about the time she got a rocket launcher as a lucky charm and discarded it because she only needed the targeting laser.  She was certain that she saw a tear in his eye at that moment.  Marinette also knew he was someone who cared about those close to him, a group of people who now included her.  She got the chance to meet the rest of his adopted family, that is when he wasn’t at odds with them.  Dick reminded her far too much of Chat Noir, Damian was a lot colder and more standoffish, Tim told her he’s like that with everyone.   Though he wouldn’t admit it, Marinette knew Jason would put his life on the line for his adopted brothers.  She came to know Roy as the more optimistic of their dynamic duo, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t battling demons of his own.  As the year went on, Marinette went from being unsure about him, to feeling safe and warm with him by her side.  Even Tikki came to see that whoever this person was, he made their Guardian happy, and that was what mattered most.

Today, however, Marinette had been worried sick.  Jason had left for a mission in a rush, barely able to say goodbye.  That was days ago, he had not answered any of her messages or her calls.   She paced around the apartment in a panic, “why isn’t he answering? Is he hurt? Captured? Worse yet…dead?” She slapped her cheeks, trying to snap out of it.  

“Jason’s strong, he can handle it.  If he’s in trouble, I’m sure Dick or Tim would help him.  If he’s really in trouble, Bruce would certainly help him,” Tikki assured her as Marinette paced around the room.  

Marinette decided to take a trip to Wayne Manor, having some of Alfred’s baking would calm them both and she could ask him about Jason’s whereabouts.  Ladybug sets off to Wayne Manor, changing back before she arrives at the front gate.   When she arrives in the kitchen, she is greeted by Alfred wearing an apron. "Welcome Miss Dupain-Cheng, you're just in time. I'm doing the finishing touches on the ginger biscuits. Why don't you take a seat while they cool?"

Marinette smiles at Alfred,  she could smell the biscuits from the front door. "Thanks, Alfred, I came to ask about Jason. I haven’t heard from him in a while,” she asked.

Alfred scratched his chin, "Master Todd? It would be best to ask Master Bruce then if it's related to work. He is currently asleep and should wake up in an hour or two"

“Thanks, Alfred, mind if I have a few biscuits to go then? I'd like to have a walk in the gardens, " she asked.

Alfred nodded and handed the biscuits to her in a paper bag. 

Marinette took a stroll around Wayne Manor, walking past Damian drawing something, whilst a large dog was curled around him.   She came across the private Wayne cemetery at the very edge of the estate. She was drawn in by the Gothic architecture and design of the area. Curious about the history of the Wayne family, she tentatively wandered into the graveyard.  She saw the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Everyone knew the story of how Bruce watched in horror as they were killed in Crime Alley. 

She froze in shock as she saw one grave in particular, tears began forming in her eyes. “Here Lies Jason Peter Todd: Gone But Not Forgotten” in large bold letters.  She felt her heart breaking, many questions raced through her mind.  How did he die? Why didn’t anyone tell her? Did no one at least think to invite her to the funeral?  She was too stunned to move, Tikki floated down to take a close look.  Before she could utterly break down in tears, she heard a voice behind her.

“Hey, Pixie Pop” Marinette whipped around to see Jason standing before her.  He was casually eating a chilli dog, acting as if standing in front of his gravestone was the most natural thing in the world.  Marinette didn’t know if she should feel happy, distraught or furious.  At first, she slammed into him, hugging him tightly.  “Hey, Pixie, did you miss me that much?” He was about to return her hug, and maybe finish eating the chilli dog over her shoulder, when she softly pounded her fists into his chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She asked, her fists punctuating her words, Jason was trying to make sense of what she meant.  He had told her that he had died before, or at least tried to.  Even he didn’t like to talk about it, the events leading up to it and how he was brought back.  Eventually, she stopped, and just curled into him with tears streaming down her face.  Right now, the last thing she needed was dumb jokes as he held her close to him. 

“I’m sorry, I” Jason tried to explain, only to be interrupted by Tikki.

“Marinette,” Tikki called, Marinette looked back at the gravestone to see the date written on the tombstone.  The year was 7 years ago when Jason was around 15.

She turned back to Jason “so when you said that your old self died…”, Tikki finally realised why she always felt there was something strange about him.  The Lazarus pits, the result of a wish that she and Plagg were forced to grant long ago.  Tikki could sense her magic on him, and a faint hint of Plagg’s magic that would consume him if left unchecked.  In the time he’d known Marinette, he had managed to keep it under control, for her sake.

“So what happened? These last few days I mean,” she asked as she pulled away, wiping her tears on her sleeves before crossing her arms.

“I was gonna call you, Roy and I were in Paris fighting killer mimes when one of them fried my phone,” he explained.  “I tried to get you something to eat from your parents’ bakery on the last day we were there, your parents said ‘hi’ by the way”, he told her. 

“Then what happened?” she asked, he wasn’t holding any paper bags or boxes with their logo on them.

“Roy ate them all is what happened, right after his little talk with Killer Croc,” he told her.

“So why didn’t you just drop by for a visit when you came back?” she asked.

“We tried to, but Roy was craving chilli dogs and I was just ready to crash,” he replied.  The look on Marinette’s face told him that if he didn’t do something, he might be back in that grave a lot sooner than he thought.  “Look, I’ll make it up to you, starting with taking you to that little craft store you love…” he suggested, the corner of her mouth pulled into a slight smile.  “I’ll buy you as much silk, satin and tulle as you want. Paid for with money we got from kicking killer mime ass”, he promised. 

“You mean I’ll get a chance to sew something that isn’t Kevlar, leather or your flesh? Who are you and what have you done with the real Jason?” She asked jokingly.  As the two of them walked away, Jason wrapped his arm around her.  He glanced back at his tombstone, that boy had been gone for quite some time now.  Right now, he was just trying to be a better man.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 10*

CHAPTER NINE

FINALE/EPILOGUE

So here's the thing:

I'm actually almost done writing this story, but I have so much written that I need to split it up so...the way I did it because I REFUSE to have odd number of chapters is that this is the technical "end" of the story. Yes. I know.

BUT--

The "epilogue" is coming out in a few hours, and really it's the ending so don't worry okay? And I say that because you will worry. A LOT.

Anyway enjoy!

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

You were in the middle of your mental breakdown when you heard a voice that made your blood run cold.

“Izzie, Izzie, Izzie….”

You raised your head to see Lewis grinning wildly like a mad man.

“Don’t you know by now? You’re never going to get rid of me,” He continued to grin wickedly. “And no man is ever going to love you the way I do,”

“T-That’s not true,” You whispered while you shook your head.

“Isn’t it? I could hear your little exchange in there,” His voice was soft and cruel, he knew how to manipulate your mind so easily.

“Barba was just using you for some sex on the side, probably wanting you to do things his little ginger wouldn’t dare think of. Things a respectable woman wouldn’t do. He figured a cute little stupid thing like you would do anything for a big fancy lawyer,”

“That’s not true,” You tried to block his voice out, curling your knees up into your chest and shutting your eyes.

“It’s absolutely true and you know it,” He continued to torment you with his cruel words. “Now, just untie me and I promise to let the happy couple go, that mean old ADA won’t hurt you anymore with his lies,”

“You’re the liar,” You growled.

“Am I?” He asked you in a sincere voice. “Have I ever been anything but faithful to you? Have I not gotten you anything you ever wanted? Did I not keep you happy?”

“Not when you were abusing me, Tommy,” You spit at him.

“Alright, well sure I had a temper. But I’ve never been anything but honest with you, and you know it,” He continued.

“Come on baby, just untie me. We can punish that ADA together,” He whispered.

“I….”

“I don’t think so,” Olivia’s voice came from behind you before the cattle prod was being pushed passed you and hitting Lewis for several seconds. He screamed out in pain and convulsed wildly before going unconscious again.

You blinked several times as Lewis’s voice faded from your throughs. It was as if you were being knocked out of a trance. You finally looked at Olivia with an embarrassed face.

“...Thank you,” You muttered. “I should have--”

“No, don’t do that,” She stopped you. “Don’t apologize for anything. That guy is a monster, he’ll say anything to anyone. He knows how to get in your head, I’m sure you know that,”

“A smarter person wouldn’t let him,” You pushed your hair behind your ears. “You didn’t,”

“I almost did, trust me,” She put a hand to your shoulder. “He’s the closest anyone has gotten inside my head. But he definitely scared the shit out of me,”

“...Right,” You shook your head, not feeling worthy of her compassion. You had almost just let a psychopath get back to his reign of terror because of simple words.

“Look I know it’s uncomfortable, but I think you should probably wait with us in the living room,”

“...Right,” You nodded and followed her back to your living room where Rafael held his head in his hands. He immediately looked up at the two of you in concern.

“What happened?! I heard Lewis scream,” He asked worriedly.

“We handled it,” Olivia dismissed his worries.

“Y/N I---” Rafael was interrupted by a banging at the door.

“LIV! BARBA! You okay?” Rafael heard Fin’s came booming through the door. Liv ran over and opened it, letting in her squad and several paramedics and cops. They began filling your apartment, throwing Rafael on a gurney and checking you and Olivia out.

“We’re going to need to take you to the hospital, ma’am,” One paramedic informed you.

“Oh it’s fine I’ve dealt with this before, if I just wrap it and let it set it’s--”

“Uh, ma’am I don’t know what you’ve been told, but this wrist needs medical attention,”

“Oh,” You felt your face grow hot. You had been so used to having broken bones kept under wraps you clearly had no regard for yourself.

“Right, yeah ok whatever,” You shrugged as you followed the paramedic down the hall. Before the elevator arrived a cop came running after you.

“Oh ma’am, we’re going to need to keep your apartment vacant for a few days, it’s an official crime scene,” He informed you. “Do you have anywhere to stay?”

“Yeah, I have a dorm room,” You nodded, but suddenly remembered Zipper and Dash. “My cats though, I don’t have anywhere for my cats,”

“Um I don’t want to alarm you ma’am but we haven’t seen any cats,”

“They’re scared of strangers,” You assured him. “They’ve probably been hiding since Lewis brought me here,”

“Ah,” He nodded. “Well, do you think they will come out any time soon?”

“As long as there’s strangers in there? No,” You shook your head.

“Well, I suppose they can stay,” He sighed, not really wanting to deal with animals. That was below his pay grade for sure.

“Great,” You nodded, just as the elevator arrived. “Thanks officer,”

“We’ll need to get your statement at the hospital as well,”

“Awesome,” You rolled your eyes as the elevator doors closed.

Even more ‘awesome’ awaited you in the parking lot, when you realized there was only one ambulance. And Olivia and Rafael were already in it.

“Oh, no look I’m sure there’s no room for me in there--”

“No ma’am you’re fine, there’s one more seat next to Ms. Benson,” The paramedic assured you as he led you to the ambulance and helped you inside to sit next to Olivia. Rafael was hooked up to oxygen while strapped into the gurney, he blinked at you with sad eyes.

“Great…” You sighed, trying not to look at him.

The ride to the hospital was silent and awkward, Olivia was stroking Rafael’s hair while he laid there incapacitated. She hated seeing him like this, so small and pitiful. He was usually so smooth and strong, quick with the quips and attitude.

“You know he was telling the truth,” She said softly while still stroking him and looking in his eyes. They softened in appreciation when she spoke.

“I’m sorry?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” She turned to look at you.

“Could’ve fooled me,” You gestured to her comforting pets.

“I’m his best friend,” She explained. “I know he likes to have his hair stroked when he’s sick. His abuela used to do it when he was a child,” You looked at Rafael who softly nodded, confirming her explanation.

“Yeah, well--” You looked at the floor of the ambulance. “I wouldn’t know that. I wouldn’t know anything, because I don’t know him,”

“But you could,”

“Can we just--?” You gave them both a look that you were really not in the mood to discuss this right now.

“Yeah, sorry,” Olivia nodded before looking at Rafael and mouthed “I tried”. He nodded in appreciation, weakly squeezing her hand.

Finally you reached the hospital. Nurses helped you out of the vehicle while others pulled Rafael out and rushed him inside in front of you and Olivia. You were both escorted opposite ways by nurses to get checked out yourselves.

-----

After a few hours your wrist had been splinted, and your bruises and cuts were cleaned and patched. You had actually never been this taken care of in a long time-- maybe ever. You had learned to just live with your injuries from Lewis, you didn’t think you deserved it after letting him do that to you. While you were being discharged, you heard a voice you never expected.

“Y/N!!!” You looked up to see your dorm mate Kyra come running over to you.

“Kyra, what--- what are you doing here?”

“I’m your emergency contact, duh,” She gestured like it was the most obvious thing. “Although I’m such a horrible contact, I should have noticed you were in trouble when you didn’t show up last night. I am so sorry, Y/N!” She threw her arms around you, hitting your broken wrist.

“Oww,” You winced in pain, making her jump back.

“Oh my God,” She made a face, “I’m so sorry love, oh God are you okay?”

“Yeah, no I’m fine,” You nodded “Let’s just go home,”

Out of nowhere came Olivia, stopping the two of you before you reached the front door.

“Oh for fuck’s sake--” You muttered under your breath.

“Who’s this?” Olivia nodded at Kyra.

“This is my dorm mate, Kyra,”

“Oh my god is this the cop you were with? Ma’am I am so sorry, I should have checked--”

“It’s fine sweetie,” She interjected. “Really,” Then she turned her attention to you. “Aren’t you going to go say goodbye to Rafael?”

“....Why would I do that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh I don’t know, in case he dies and the last thing he hears from you is some bullshit about being ‘done’ with him?” Olivia crossed her arms.

“Are you seriously trying to guilt me into going to see him?” You scoffed in disbelief. How dare she?

“I’m just saying,” She shrugged. “If you’re going to disappear on him I think he at the very least deserves a proper goodbye from you. I think you owe him that,”

“Owe him?” You scoffed. “Are you kidding me?”

“You got him kidnapped and shot Y/N, so yeah I think you owe him,” She narrowed her eyes.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes as you stomped off towards a room you saw them take Rafael to earlier, you assumed from a surgery. You entered the room just as the doctor was leaving.

“Oh hello, I was just telling your husb--” He started to tell you.

“He’s not my husband,”

“Oh sorry, I was telling your boyfr--”

“He’s NOT my boyfriend,”

“....Right, okay well I was telling this man, that he’s pretty lucky,” The doctor finally gave up trying to guess the nature of your relationship.

“Lucky to get shot?” You rolled your eyes.

“No, he’s lucky someone pulled the bullet out of his wound before tying it up. That thing could have embedded itself within the tissue and he would have gone septic,”

“Meaning…?”

“He would have lost his leg, or died,” Your face dropped when the words came out of his mouth.

He could have died. You could have gotten him killed. Forget your well being, he didn’t deserve to die because he had the misfortune of meeting you.

“He’s lucky to have a guardian angel,” The doctor gave you a knowing look.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure guardian angels don’t get their charges shot in the first place,”

“Don’t listen to her,” Rafael’s voice came from behind the two of you. “She is my angel,”

“He’s hopped up on pain meds,” You pointed out his amorous statement.

“....I wouldn’t be so sure,” He walked out with a smile. You rolled your eyes once again but moved closer to Rafael’s bed. You went to take his hands, but you thought better of it. You didn’t want to make this any harder.

“I’m glad you stayed,” He decided to hold your hands himself, but you pulled away.

“I stayed because I was getting this treated,” You presented your wrist. “And now I’m leaving with my dorm mate. But Olivia said I ‘owe’ you a goodbye so--”

“You ‘owe' me?” He snorted sarcastically. “God I love Olivia, but she’s so--”

“Bitchy?” You half laughed.

“Overprotective,” He corrected you.

“Well, I’m sure you guys can protect each other from now on, without me getting you shot,”

“You didn’t get me--”

“Yeah but I did though,” You cut him off. “If you had never met me, Lewis wouldn’t have cared about hurting you,”

“I’m pretty sure he would have wanted to anyway, he only showed up to my office to find out information about me,” He pointed out.

“Well, whatever,” You waved away his absolutions. “It happened, and I’m sorry,”

“You don’t have to be--”

“I don’t care, Rafael. Just-- just let me apologize, let me feel guilty. Just take care of yourself, okay?” You started to back away from his bed.

“I’d rather you take care of me,”

“Yeah well,” You ran your fingers through your hair. “That’s too bad, because I’m leaving here and I’m not looking back,” You turned to leave.

“So I’ll see you Monday,” You could hear the smirk in his voice. He really wasn’t getting this.

“No, you won’t,” You sighed. “I told Rita I’m resigning from my position,”

“Because of me?” He cocked his head to the side like a puppy dog.

“Because I was just held hostage by my abusive husband and I’m pretty traumatized by it, Rafael! I think I deserve a bit of fucking time to….collect myself,” You tried to find a word for ‘keep your sanity’,”

“You’re not ‘collecting yourself’, you’re running,” He challenged you.

“Excuse the fuck out of you,” Your eyes filled with flames. “I am NOT running--”

“Yes you are!” He interjected angrily. “When something bad happens to you, you can’t deal with it so you just run,”

“You absolutely completely insensitive narcissistic prick,” You growled. “How dare you fucking say that to me! After everything I told you, after everything you know I went through with Lewis,”

“Alright that may have been--,”

“See this?” You referenced his cold tactic trying to get you to stay with him. “This is why I’m leaving. You bit back tears even harder.

“What?” He asked you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Rafael I have--” You searched for the words. “...Had feelings for you, for a long time now,” You took a deep breath, refusing to break down now. You had gotten this far, just say your piece and leave.

“But you,” You shook your head with a dry laugh. “You didn’t even see me, not until I was finally something you wanted to look at,”

“That’s not fair--”

“YES, it is!” You weren’t letting him win this. “That's exactly what happened!”

“Not, not really--”

“Yes, really,” You finally couldn’t hold back the tears overflowing from your pupils. “You think you have these ‘feelings’ for me, and it’s completely superficial!”

“....But it doesn't have to be,” He finally conceded that he really didn’t know anything about you, except that you were adorably awkward and looked great in his shirt. “Not if we get to know each other,”

“I don’t want to get to know each other, because I already know you,” You shook your head, looking at the floor. You couldn’t look in his eyes right now, you knew you’d cave.

“No you don’t. You have just as superficial feelings for me that I have for you,” He argued.

“I know what I need to know about you to know I don’t want to know any more,” You bit back.

“That is so--”

“I don’t care what it is!” You did your best not to scream at him but you were fighting a losing battle.

He was right, you didn’t really know anything about him besides he knew how to work a suit, smelled amazing, and was a great kisser. But he flipped so easily on you, and the fact remained that he did only notice you once you were parading yourself half naked. You had to get out of here before you betrayed yourself.

“I-- I made my decision, and if you care anything about me like you claim to, then you’ll just leave me the hell alone,” You reached for the door, tears dripping down your face.

“...Okay,” He finally conceded, looking down at his blanket. Tears filled his eyes now. He knew you were right, if he really cared about you he’d stop causing you pain.

“Okay,” You nodded again before walking out the door, leaving Rafael alone.

“Let’s go,” You told Kyra while you wiped away your tears and kept walking before she could answer.

“What happened?” She asked you as she tried keeping up with you, but you were on a mission to get the hell out of there.

“Nothing,” You mumbled, really not wanting to talk about it.

“...Wasn’t that the guy you’ve had a crush on for months?” Kyra asked while glancing back towards the hospital.

“No...yes...maybe,” You shook your head but refused to stop walking.

“So why did you tell him you never wanted to see him again?!”

“Because...it’s...it’s complicated, Kyra,”

“You know,” She finally grabbed your shoulder, preventing you from walking any further. “Nothing worth having is simple,”

“Thank you, Nostradamus,”

“I just...don’t want to see you unhappy, Y/N,” She gave you a sad look.

“I appreciate it, Kyra,” You threw an arm over her shoulder. “You’re a good friend,”

Despite Kyra’s advice, you kept true to your word. You quit Rita’s job, to which she completely understood and still wrote you a glowing recommendation to use wherever you applied after law school. You kept your head in the books for the rest of your law school career, graduating in the top 2% of your class. Soon after that, you had several of the most prestigious law firms banging at your door to come work for them. You asked Kyra to move into the penthouse with you after you graduated so you weren’t alone in that big place all by yourself. And the cats of course.

You had everything you ever wanted, everything you worked so hard for. Everything you never thought was possible when you were living in fear of your life every night. Your life was perfect.

So why did it feel like something was missing?