#this one has been standing in standby for a while because I'm not sure I'm crazy about it

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Gantober #10 - Depths

Today, a short snippet of a vague TotK-adjacent story about this Ganondorf's childhood escapade! And including an arbitrary headcanon I played with, aka: Sage of Lightning being Ganondorf's younger sister.

Enjoy!

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“Hey, slow down! I’ll tell mommy if you don’t wait for me!”

Ganondorf ignored his sister’s worried squeaks. She had bugged him all morning when he had tried to enjoy some rare alone time: she had wanted to know what he was reading, pinched his sides with weak jolts of electricity when he had refused to answer, and despaired at his cold disinterest in a shared play time. At the height of his annoyance, he had snapped his book shut and offered her his very worst smile. Do you want to go play explorers? he had asked, and of course the stupid brat had seen nothing concerning about that.

He would have gladly lost her in the upper layers of the ruins near Gerudo Town if she hadn’t been so insistent, following his long strides with a clumsy resolve he admired just as much as it drove him up the wall. Not losing her for real, of course. Just a little scare. She was the only child who wasn’t at least a bit afraid of him —and in the palace, her tears were so quickly comforted. Their mother the chieftain would throw some harsh words his way: that he was to be king and so ought to act with even more self-control than the noblest of their sworn personal guards, that power should never make room for cruelty. His sister would be hugged, and he’d be called callous in a way that itched.

But here, there was only him and the dark. If she cried, she would need to wipe the snot off her nose all on her own.

“Wait for me!”

He didn’t. Hopping past fallen rocks half-submerged in the sand, Ganondorf took a sharp turn left —froze.

The floor dropped into a hole.

It wasn’t a large hole. He could easily fit in, but his mother might have gotten stuck if she had tried to squeeze through. Underneath was pitch black darkness. Faint red, maybe. Or faint green?

Ganondorf knelt, and plucked a stone from the floor before dropping it in. The pebble was swallowed, its fall completely silent. Nothing ever echoed back to him.

“What is this?”

His sister loomed over his shoulder, nosy as always. He stared at her: her green pupils blown wide, mouth agape. Pointed ears. The kind he did not have. For a brief instant, he imagined pushing her down there, or rather: plummeting himself. There was an alluring call to that long drop. A chill ran down his spine. Something down there... yearned. The knowledge was both visceral and unquestioned. And somehow, the fear that should accompany that knowledge refused to take hold.

His sister’s fascination, however, took up a different shade. A paler one.

She gasped, plunging her tiny nails in his arm without thinking. He clenched his jaw in response. “It’s so deep! You shouldn’t get so close!”

“Let go,” he hissed.

“But...”

“If you can’t handle this, you should have played on your own.”

Her skin darkened in childish anger. “Stop being so rude! I’m gonna tell mommy you’re going to places you’re not allowed to go!”

“Go tell her then.”

She hesitated. Her long braid was powdered with dust and sand. A messy spectacle that would immediately betray she had gleefully followed her brother in forbidden, dangerous places. Ganondorf bared his teeth.

“Go!”

His sister jumped, hissing back at him like a stray cat. She turned around and ran off, the tapping of her soles echoing in the caves underneath the city they were born to inherit. He watched the wildfire of her hair disappear in the dark, then turned back to the hole.

Blowing between his palms, he invoked a small flame —blue, soft, the kind to bounce off its shrine across every sort of stone. The walls of the drop were jagged enough for him to climb down. He brushed his palm across its mineral skin, felt its coldness espouse the calloused bumps he managed to claim for himself in the midst of his life’s luxuries.

He didn’t even think. Blinked. Found himself several meters in, surrounded by rocks that wanted nothing more than to watch him fall. He considered forcing himself back up, out of vague concern for his sister and his mom, before deciding he didn’t really care. Something beckoned him deeper.

And he wanted to know what it was.

Long, long minutes later, far too long, the hole opened to a larger cave. Ganondorf’s magic indicated some sort of base floor waiting for him underneath, covered in moss, which he hoped would be enough to break his fall. Strange, unknowable flowers glimmered in what seemed like an infinite void.

He let himself fall.

The impact wasn’t kind to him. His ankles screamed, but he did not. When Ganondorf opened his eyes, all he could see was blackness, and the roots of immense structures of stone erected straight and far up. These looked nothing like gerudo architecture. Old, decrepit machines stood frozen and dead. Cold furnaces.

Ancient, silent, unwelcoming.

Ganondorf stood up and carefully made his way through the ruins.

[zeppelinlvr]

Still Feel Like That

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: you accompany Dean, Sam, and Bobby on a hunt. You and Dean go out for a drink and Dean looks after you when you've had too much to drink.

Notes: Reader is a yapper (cus same), kinda implied that reader is Bobby's kid but it's not stated outright, sorry if you like Poison or Bret Micheals reader hates on them for a second, I assumed that Dean switched out his radio with one that would be compatible with cassettes since a 67' would likely have a 8 track player, I got lazy with my research so I apologize if any facts are incorrect (feel free to correct me).

Warnings: Suggestive language, flirting, cursing, mentions of throwing up, y/n is used like three times, Dean in his undies (yummy!)

Word Count: 4.1k

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You sat at Bobby’s old wooden table, sipping hot coffee from your Garfield mug. You didn’t own it but when you saw the grumpy orange cat with a text saying ‘I'm listening I just don’t care’ sitting on Bobby’s shelf of mismatched old mugs you’d used the cup ever since. 

You sat in your pajama shorts, slippers, and an old tee shirt, the cracked text reading “Winfield national flatpickin’ championships”. The shirt previously belonged to Bobby and he couldn’t remember how he acquired such an item, he assumed he was passing through Kansas and picked it up along the way, but you loved it so much he felt it was necessary to give it to you. 

You were reading through a book you had picked up on demonology. Bobby had given you a few vague events that had occurred and you were trying to figure out what exactly he was dealing with. You had a book on Pagan gods on standby. 

You heard the front door open, figuring it was Bobby you chose to continue reading but when you heard unfamiliar voices you quickly looked up in a panic, nearly knocking your chair over to try to scramble and find Bobby. You were not a hunter by any means, you just did the research and stayed in the comfort of motels. You knew some basic self defense but you could not fight a serious threat on your own.

You were making a dash for the nearest room when you heard Bobby yell your name. 

You quickly spun around to look at him, seeing two tall, handsome, potentially dangerous, men standing next to him. 

“What the hell are you doing kid?” Bobby asked you, concerned by your panic stricken expression.

“I heard people- and I was trying to find you and not die” You uttered out, still confused about who the two other men were. “Sorry, who the hell are these guys” you added 

“Sam and Dean I talk-” Bobby started but you cut him off 

“Winchester?” you asked excitedly “Bobby talks about you two all the time and I really wanted to meet both of you, especially Dean, Bobby says you make stupid decisions but you sound fun” you rambled quickly, a smirk growing on the shorter ones face at your mention of him. 

“Oh my god you have to be Sam, you totally have that sad puppy look” you said to the taller one “You could ask me to donate my life savings to a charity then build a shelter for the homeless and I totally would” you continued to talk.

“I like her” the shorter man who you had now assumed was Dean said with a grin 

“Wait Dean” you started turning to him “Did you drive your car here, I’ve heard rumors it's a totally awesome 67’ impala and I’ve been dying to see it” 

Before Dean could respond with a comment about how you were marriage material Bobby interrupted your rambling “Okay motor mouth, I’m sure Sam and Dean are enthralled by your commentary but they need our help” 

“Are you the super smart Y/n?” Sam asked 

“The one who has saved our asses more times than we can count” Dean added

“Yes, that's her, and I don't prefer to shout about her to the whole world because she's not exactly Hulk Hogan” Bobby said, growing slightly annoyed with the continued blabbering. 

“Really? Hulk Hogan? You have to compare me to that doofus, call me Bret Micheals while you’re at it” You shot at him 

“I’m sorry, would you prefer to be Kerry VonErich” Bobby sighed 

“Yes, minus his incredibly tragic life” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Bobby why have we not met this chick sooner, she's awesome” Dean said slightly in awe. 

“You two don't care to stop by all that often and I knew you and her would get along real well and we wouldn't get anything done” Bobby responded hinting at the exact situation that was happening. 

“Let me see Dean’s car then I promise I will be productive” you offered

“Yeah let her see my car” Dean added, Sam smiling at the situation and Bobby rolling his eyes and reluctantly agreeing. 

The four of you made your way outside and when you saw the impala you let out a gasp of excitement before sprinting towards it. 

“She is so beautiful” you gushed to Dean “You keep her in phenomenal condition, does she run well?” 

“Like she’s new” Dean responded, smiling at your excitement over the car. 

“Is there an 8 track player? I have a few tapes I could give you if you want” You offered 

“Switched it out for a cassette player” Dean told you

“Good choice, 8 tracks are such a hassle, you can hear another song playing in the background of whatever you're trying to listen to, and don't even think about trying to fast forward to get to the song you want, at least you have a slim chance to land on the right song with cassettes” you rambled 

“Yeah no kidding, you wanna see my tape collection” Dean offered 

“Nope, we agreed on just the car now we need to figure out what the hell is going on in Pawnee Nebraska” Bobby interrupted as the four of you made your way back into the house 

“I’m so sick of going to these ho-hum towns, why can't you guys hunt things that reside in memphis or something, I want to go to a museum that isn't about the butter cow or a mayor who died of dysentery” You said with a sigh

“Hunting in this ho hum town means road trip and i'm sure Dean would be delighted to let you ride down with him” Bobby offered for Dean, partly because he wanted some silence in his own car and he also wanted you, Dean, and Sam to be able to talk as much as you pleased and hopefully be caught up so you could focus on working. 

Dean agreed to the idea and Sam shrugged, hoping you would prevent bickering between him and his brother. 

“I promised I’d focus so Sam, you’re smart, have you found out more than some bad weather and a ‘still under investigation death of a couple’” You asked, turning to the taller brother, offering him a smile, slightly feeling bad you’d paid so much attention to his brother and not talked to Sam much. 

“Yeah, I think the weather is unrelated, I found autopsy reports and the couple had these wounds on the back of their necks. I don't recognize the pattern but you might be able to” he replied to you with a soft smile, he made his way to his computer and set it on the table where your abandoned books and coffee lay. 

You made a noise of disgust upon seeing the picture but you instantly recognized the wound pattern “That has to be changelings, they feed off of the mother until she dies, it's so creepy” You started “In a lot of the books I’ve read they switch out an infant for a changeling, did the couple have a kid?” you asked 

“Yeah, but she's a little girl who’s ten years old” Sam replied to you

“Different cultures have varying takes on changelings, some of them say they can grow and develop like a human would, so it's definitely a possibility” You told him “We have to get down there asap before more kids are switched out, and when you figure out where the little girl is at now, monitor her behavior closely, she's gonna be hungry and use abnormal phrases for a ten year old.” You explained

“Alright you heard her” Dean said, squeezing between you and Sam and placing a hand on your shoulder. He secretly wanted your attention back on him. 

“Let me pack a bag and change then I’ll be ready to head out” you told them

“Same goes for me, give us five minutes” Bobby added

You headed to your room and changed into jeans and tee shirt, additionally throwing on a crewneck from a college in Louisiana that you had found in the aisles of a thrift store. 

You threw a few additional outfits in a duffle bag and your pajamas which consisted of sleep shorts and a tee shirt, you threw your slippers for your constantly cold feet in the bag and you were ready to go. 

Your socked feet padded against the floor as you made your way to the front door to grab your shoes. You threw them on and told the group you were ready to go. 

Dean, Sam and you crowded into the impala, Dean leaping on the opportunity to tell Sam to sit in the back after you had informed the brothers you get carsick. 

“I have zofran, Sam can sit in the front, I don't want to take his spot” you said 

“Nope, Sam get in the back” Dean quickly said as he took his spot in the driver's seat. 

After the three of you had gotten in the car and started on the trip Sam complained “Dean, I know there's a pretty girl but what if I get carsick in the back” 

“You won't, and the very pretty girl won't complain about my music choices” Dean told him and raised his brows at you.

Your face heated at how they referred to you, you cleared your throat and changed the subject “I know you guys are more hands on than me so I know a few ways to figure these things out, different folklore says if you can make them laugh they’ll reveal their truth, or you can shout god bless you, you can cook with eggshells. German legends say you can whip the child but honestly the easiest way to kill them is just lighting the fuckers on fire” You explained “People used to throw them in the fireplace or in the oven but you can get away with a blowtorch and a can of hairspray” 

“That's more our speed” Dean replied 

“People were seriously throwing these things in ovens?” Sam asked “What if the kid wasn't actually a changeling” 

“People got overly paranoid and it wasnt exactly common knowledge back then that someone could be born with physical or mental disabilities, also families used to be really reliant on everyone in the household being able to help out so a lot of child abuse ensued because parents didnt want to have a changeling on their hands” You explained “Anyway these things creep me out so lets talk about something more lighthearted on the way there” 

“i agree sweetheart” Dean said and you blushed at the name “I heard your comment about Bret Micheals, are you a Poison hater” 

“I can tolerate them but I will not go out of my way to listen to them, they’re definitely one of the lamest hair bands” you told him “I definitely prefer Van Halen, Quiet Riot, Def Leppard and Cinderella if I’m going to listen to hair bands” 

“Atta girl, you don’t like that Barry Manilow bullshit do you?” Dean asked 

“God no, fuck Styx too, that Babe song pisses me off” you laughed 

“Cus you know it’s you babe” Sam started singing off key and you groaned in annoyance, Dean laughing. 

The three of you talked about music, movies, and Sam and Dean's past hunts, asking odd would you rather questions when trying to think of new conversation topics 

“Okay would you rather have to eat a little bit of cheese on everything or never eat cheese again” you asked 

“Never eat cheese again” Sam quickly answered 

“I’d put a little bit on everything I fucking love cheese” you answered 

After extensive conversation and small bits of bickering the three of you made it to Nebraska, Bobby close behind.

Dean checked into the hotel, getting two rooms, one for him and Sam and one for you and Bobby. He gave the woman behind the counter a credit card with a name that most certainly was not his then the three of you made your way to the rooms. Dean opened the door to one of the rooms and the cowboy theme of the room made you laugh.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em’ Dean” you said 

“It’s fun, this cowboy boot pen holder on the desk is cute” he said, picking up the small red ceramic boot with a few pens sticking out of it.

“It is kinda cute, and I like the lasso on the wall” you pointed out 

“Oh man, creepy” you said as you noticed the sad clown painting hanging above the bed. 

“That's coming down” Sam said and quickly moved over to the painting to take it off the wall and lay it face down in the corner of the room. 

“Sammy here is a afraid of clowns” Dean informed you

“I don’t blame him, they’re scary, and all the media about killer clowns doesn’t exactly make me want to see one” you replied 

Bobby arrived at the motel shortly after the three of you had gotten the rooms. The four of you were discussing plans for the next day as it was later and you all agreed to start interviewing people in the morning. 

“i’m gonna go grab a drink, I saw a bar about ten minutes from here” Dean announced 

“I’ll join you if Bobby and Sam don’t need help with research” you said 

“Go take a break kid, you work your ass off, me and Sam will be fine” Bobby told you, you thanked him and gave him a quick hug before heading out with Dean. 

You weren’t surprised by the crowd at the bar, mostly older men who looked like they had just gotten off work, farm clothes and dirty work shirts adorned most of them. A few of them had women who you assumed were their wives at their side, chatting quietly with them. You were glad your outfit wasn’t out of place for the scene. 

A man who you guessed to be around fifty was working behind the bar, he gave Dean and you a soft smile before asking what you’d like to drink. 

“I’ll take a beer” Dean told him

“Busch okay? We don’t have anything else” The bartender replied 

“Perfect” 

“And for the pretty lady” the bartender asked 

“I’ll just take a vodka cranberry” you said, not minding his comment too much, you knew he didn’t mean anything by it, people just talked like that. 

You and Dean sat at the bar after getting your drinks, chatting with each other. 

One drink led to another and you lost count of how many you had drank. You were asking Dean silly questions and you began to vocalize your thoughts about how handsome he is.

“I know you can't kill a vampire with a wooden stake, but have you ever tried death by stereo?” you asked with a giggle, you had taken your hand into his and were toying with his fingers. 

“The Lost Boys is a great movie, me and Sammy will try out death by stereo just for you the next time we hunt vampires” he replied earning a laugh from you.

“You are so manly and cute and handsome” you slurred poking a finger into his chest, eyes widening at the firmness of his muscles “Oh my gosh you’re strong too, I feel like I just poked a rock” 

He laughed and shook his head at your comments “Let's get you to bed before you say more shit you’ll regret tomorrow.” 

“I don't regret anything, I’ve been thinking about how cute you are all day, and those big arms wrapped around-” You blabbered but were cut off by Dean.

“Yep time for bed, but give me a heads up sweetheart if you still feel this way after you’ve sobered up” 

“I’m going to pay, then we’re going to get in the car, then get you to bed” he added

“Very forward, I like it” you giggled with a raise of your brows. 

After Dean paid he walked you out to the Impala, you stumbling slightly finding it hard to walk after being sat down all night. 

“I'm cold” you lied, you were not cold but you wanted his jacket.

“You have a sweater on?” he replied with confusion lacing his tone.

“You're supposed to give me your jacket then I can smell like you” you told him and tried to give him a hug while still walking. 

He forced a sigh then wrapped his jacket around you. You snuggled into it and thanked him.

After a car ride consisting of you informing Dean your feet hurt and you were tired, the two of you arrived back at the motel.

Dean opened the door to yours and Bobby's shared room. You giggled noticing the lights were off. 

Dean attempted to shush you “he's probably asleep already, quiet down” 

You only laughed harder at the fact you needed to be quiet “he looks like Ebenezer Scrooge when he sleeps, he just needs the little hat” you commented through your giggles, Dean tried to hide his smile to not encourage you. 

“I always think the ghost of Christmas past is gonna get him” you said before bursting into laughter and Dean quickly slapping his hand over your mouth. He pushed you into the bathroom and shut the door attempting to muffle your giggles. He flipped the light on and asked you where your duffle bag was. 

“In the room somewhere” you shrugged 

“Well no shit sweetheart” 

“It's on my bed I think” you giggled 

“Okay perfect you stay right here and I’ll go get it then you're going to change and go to bed” he told you

Dean groped through the dark until he found your bag, it was sitting on your bed as you had told him. He made his way back to the bathroom to find you sitting on the toilet lid, playing with the toilet paper roll that had the first square folded into a fancy shape. 

“Isn't this just precious” you said and showed him the toilet paper

“Yes, very cute put it down” he said and took the roll out of your hands, placing it on the counter. 

He opened your bag and fished out your shorts and a tee shirt “get changed” 

“No can do, can’t get my pants off” you shrugged with a fake sigh 

Usually Dean would be enthralled to take a girl's pants off but he wasn’t in the mood for an ass whooping from Bobby. 

He just prayed Bobby wouldn’t wake up because you weren’t budging. He helped you shimmy your jeans off your legs, then slipped your shorts onto you. 

“Need help with my shirt too” you said as you shrugged his jacket off your shoulders and put it into your lap. 

He slipped your crewneck over your head, your shirt coming off with it. He quickly took in your figure, admiring the sight of you in your bra before he slipped a clean shirt over your head. 

You unclasped your bra and slipped it off from under your shirt before tossing it on the bathroom floor. 

“Really? you can do that but you can’t change on your own” Dean whisper yelled 

“I can’t show you too much” you shrugged “now can you carry me to bed?”

He was willing to do anything to get you in bed at this point so he scooped you up in his arms and carried you out to your bed, you giggled as he threw you down onto the sheets. 

“Go to bed now” he whispered and you quickly made yourself comfortable under the blankets, cuddling into his jacket that you still held in your arms. 

You heard the door close and you soon drifted off to sleep. 

You awoke around four in the morning the red numbers off the alarm clock informing you of the time. You were starving and the alcohol had barely worn off. you crawled out of bed and slipped on Dean's jacket, it hung loosely on your figure, the length going past your shorts and the sleeves being far too long. You were glad for the added warmth because you were freezing. 

You were absolutely craving fried chicken and you dug through the mini fridge wholeheartedly expecting to find some, when the disappointment hit you, you left the room and went into Sam and Dean's room, letting yourself in with the spare key you had been given. 

You began to dig through their refrigerator in the dark, expecting to find some chicken but when you heard a gun click and the light flipped on, you spun around, met by Dean in his underwear and Sam shuffling in moments later with his blanket wrapped around him.

“What the hell are you doing” Dean asked 

“I want fried chicken so bad” you complained 

“Why would we have fried chicken?” Dean asked, still groggy and confused. 

“I don’t know I just wanted to check” you told him 

Sam laughed at the interaction, telling Dean he shouldn’t have let you drink so much before he headed back to his bed. 

“I promise I will get you fried chicken in the morning but please go back to bed” Dean told you 

“You look cute in your undies” you giggled 

“And you look cute in my jacket now go to bed” he mimicked your giggle. 

You agreed but not before you made him promise to get you your food in the morning, you made him lock pinkies with you despite his complaints of annoyance. 

You made your way back to your room and quickly fell asleep again. 

The next morning was hell, Bobby woke you up around 8 and you were met with a headache and a need for water. The second you stood up you found yourself running to the bathroom as a nauseating feeling built in your throat. 

You heard Sam and Dean talking as you were throwing up the memories of last night. Both of them asking how you were doing, and Bobby explaining you were currently throwing up, expecting an explanation from Dean as to why. 

Dean ducked out of the conversation “I’m going to get her water and hold her hair back, like a man does” he walked into the bathroom and gave a small chuckle at your figure hunched over the toilet. 

“Do not fucking laugh at me” you groaned 

“You still want that fried chicken” he asked, and you gagged at the thought, he grabbed you a cup of water to rinse your mouth out with and handed you the toilet paper you had been previously admiring to wipe your mouth off with. 

You wiped the sweat from your forehead and the tears from your eyes before standing up to brush your teeth. 

“You still gotta work today you know” Dean told you 

you rolled your eyes at him and after you had finished brushing your teeth you said “I’ll survive, I can tolerate sitting and reading, you have to go fight the things” 

You and Dean joined Bobby and Sam, Sam having told Bobby about you breaking into their room. You were expecting to get your ass chewed out but all you got from Bobby was “Kid I’m glad you had fun, you need to loosen up sometimes, but we still need your help today, so I expect your best” 

You agreed and gave him a quick hug before setting up a spot to research on the desk in the room. 

Sam and Dean left to put on formal clothes as they were posing as detectives and had to look the part. They returned to the room after changing. 

“Don’t you boys look handsome” you said with a grin 

“We have to be believable” Dean grumbled 

“I’m being serious, you look nice” you smiled “I’m going to look for potential demonic activity in other areas, call me if you need anything” 

“Will do sweetheart” Dean replied 

“Thanks for all your help y/n, we’ll pick you up some fried chicken on our way back” Sam grinned 

Your stomach churned at the thought of eating anything but maybe you’d change your mind later in the day, so you didn’t shut him down. 

As the three were turning to leave you said “by the way Dean, I do still feel like that” earning a grin from him and his head flooding with thoughts of what he could do to you when he got back. 

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[bekolxeram]

I woke up to a dash full of bones, and I thought to myself: What a day to be a moopsy!

But then I realized it was the same kind of bones people have been trying to force feed me since May. I'm a moopsy with standards, give me herringbone, funny bone, trombone, Jackson Rathbone (jk I've never seen Twilight), any other kind of bone.

Please don't force a moopsy into vegetarianism.

Oh, and I've read that opinion piece. It's certainly one of the articles ever written.

First of all, I feel like I'm in a time loop, I can't believe I have to dig through the vault to find this post from June. Tommy wasn't taking Eddie on an "adventure" in 7x04. Both flying and combat sports have been Tommy's passions way before Eddie showed up in his life. They happened to share common interests, so Tommy asked Eddie to tag along for the ride, but he was going to Vegas anyway, solo or not.

Exploring your partner's interests would be more like... I don't know, showing up to a groom-less (and fun-less) bachelor party while being on standby because it's important to your partner? Listening to him ramble about a dead outlaw even though you're so tired from your shift and taking care of him all night that you're basically mumbling half-asleep, yet still manages to catch that he's said "crossed" twice? Thinking your partner is stressing himself over a stupid curse but you still put on a nice suit, drive him to the cemetery and stand behind him while he gives a century old mummy a eulogy, for it to unexpectedly turn into a moment of connection between you two?

Secondly, I'm not even getting into the whole "slow burn is the only valid form of romance" thing. I just never imagined there would be a day I see the words "slow burn" and Bathena put together. They're the antithesis of slow burn. They're explosions in the form of beautiful fireworks. I understand that the author only started the show about a month ago? But literally, in the first episode of S7, Athena told the therapist that while she loved her husband, she didn't know how to just slow down and chill out with him. The cruise ship disaster arc ended with them bonding over yet another near death experience. Life's too short for slow to them.

Thirdly, 9-1-1 doesn't really do cute dates? It's either in the ending montage of an arc or it's a setup for some terrible misfortune afterwards. It's not a YA style queer coming-of-age show either, the best you'll see Buck navigating through queer spaces is speeding from "calling himself an ally while on a date with a guy" through "walking into a room full of people with a soot eating grin". (While we're on that, I guess I have to dig out another post from June about the first date closet comment. Tommy took the initiative to tell Eddie they were just hanging out, and Eddie bought it. He didn't mind keeping Buck's sexuality private, but he did mind Buck pushing him back into the closet with the hot chick lie.)

Finally, Tommy has been relatively involved in the Fire Fam circle ever since his re-introduction. He literally stole borrowed a helicopter and flew the 118 to the Pacific Ocean just to save Bathena. He was at the wedding, he was at the medal ceremony, and now he's part of the hospital vigil for Denny. And each time he's not just there for Buck, he's there for Chimney, he's there for Hen too. For someone who puts so much emphasis on "slow burn", the author seems rather hasty in pronouncing BuckTommy dead on arrival, after watching a total of 5 out of 18 episodes this season (with 2 of them heavily featuring passengers on the plane and putting the whole fire fam to the side no less). Every relationship takes time to build up, I'm sure the author understands that, welcoming a new member into your family is not a question of yes or no, it's also a question of when. Tommy has mentioned 3 times how much he wanted to have a team like that behind his back, how alone he was navigating through life with only negative influence like his father or Gerrard. Buck's story in 8x05 started as a spooky comedy about a mummy, but ended as a heartwarming tale of Buck empathizing with Billy's loneliness and declaring himself part of Billy's posse. So what do you think will be the more satisfying payoff to Tommy's story? Him being formally welcomed to the family eventually? Or having him break up with Buck then cast aside with a mere "lol sucks not being a main ig"?

[jedi-hawkins]

Shockpack

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is an edit/repost of the original I made a while back.

Warnings: WHUMP, Cardiac arrest, CPR, AED usage, broken ribs, medical terminology, Crosshair is a bit of a bitch

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Disclaimer: Though this is fairly accurate to the correct process of CPR, please do not use this as educational material or attempt to perform CPR if you have not been trained how to do it. In an emergency always call 911 (US) or the appropriate number for your country/region.

While on standby for their next mission, some drastic measures may start leading to a new connection.

"Hunter, that needs to be more to the left."

Hunter brings his head back out of the engineering bay he and Tech are working on. Both brothers have removed their upper armor to make it easier to reach into the tight spots. "Tech, why did you ask for my help if you're just going to correct everything I do?"

"Because, I need an extra set of hands, Hunter. The General is busy working and you sent Crosshair and Wrecker out for supplies."

Bryn chuckles at the two arguing brothers before turning back to the holomap in front of her.

"Well if you keep telling me what to do, then you'll have to grow the extra set of hands yourself." Hunter snaps back.

Tech sighs. "I'm just saying, if that component is not at the optimal angle, then it may not remain stable-"

"It's attached to the ship, Tech. What's next?"

Footsteps signal the return of Crosshair and Wrecker, the latter sets down two large crates as his brother hefts two packs from his shoulders.

"The med supplies are in here, General." Wrecker says, pointing to one of the large crates.

Bryn smiles, "Thanks, Wrecker. You guys get everything else?"

"Apparently ration packs for this sector are in short supply, so bars will have to do." Crosshair says. "Much to Wrecker's disappointment."

His brother grumbles in response as a few metal clanks and choice curses from Hunter float over from the side of the Marauder.

"That sounds fun." Crosshair says, placing a toothpick in his mouth.

Bryn rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I think Hunter is getting close to strangling Tech with one of the exhaust hoses."

Wrecker chuckles. "Heh, there's the quick way and the Tech way."

"What's the word?" Crosshair asks.

Bryn shrugs, "Command sent high praises for our work in our first month on active duty, but nothing on a new assignment. They'll let us know where they want us soon."

Wrecker looks over Bryn's shoulder. "Whatcha working on?"

"Well I'm supposed to be finishing the mission report for our work on Lutrilla, but instead I'm working on this for Obi-wan." Bryn replies.

"General Kenobi?" Crosshair's interest is piqued and he moves to stand on Bryn's other side.

"Yeah, long time friend of mine." Bryn mumbles. "He's currently stationed on Ques and the terrain is giving them some trouble in clearing out the Separatists. I'm trying to see if I can come up with something to help."

The sniper's lip curls, "Do that a lot? Help Kenobi?"

Bryn hums, turning the map. "We help each other. We came up together in the Order, he's a good man, and a better leader."

"High praises coming from you, I'm sure." Crosshair says, though not without a hint of sarcasm.

"What's their issue with the terrain?" Wrecker says, standing on the other side of the table.

Bryn points to a section on the map. "The Seppies have taken this canyon as their central point of operation. Their base is halfway between the north and south entrances and they have battalions on the high ground posted along both the east and west rims. It's basically impossible to get down to their base. What do you two think?"

Wrecker brings his hand to his chin in thought. "Ques you said? That system has a network of catacombs going through its ridges. They were drainage and aqueducts for some ancient civilization there, pretty much abandoned now. It'd be a risk, but if they could find a way to get into the tunnels outside of the Seppie's sights, a few carefully placed detonations, and they should be able to blow straight through the canyon wall right outside the main base."

"That could work." Crosshair agrees. "If they make enough noise when they storm the base, they could draw the forces off the rims and into the canyon, making way for a second wave of Republic air support to claim the high ground."

Bryn smiles at her teammates, "That sounds perfect. Obi-wan has the special forces that could handle the catacombs and the numbers to take the ridges. Where did you hear about those tunnels, Wrecker?"

He just shrugs. "I was reading up on the history of some antique weapon classes and came across some records about them."

Before anyone can say anything else, a large bang comes from the Marauder. Bryn, Wrecker and Crosshair run over to see Hunter is lying on his back, eyes closed, and Tech is shaking his brother's arm.

"Tech what happened!?" Bryn shouts, sliding to a stop on her knees at Hunter's shoulder.

"I-I don't know General. I told him that component could become unstable at the wrong angle."

Her gaze follows Tech's finger that's pointing to a small metal part lying a few feet away from Hunter.

Bryn's eyes widen and she elbows Tech out of the way, nearly causing him to fall over. "Move." She leans her cheek close to Hunter's face and places two fingers on his neck.

"It happened so quickly, but I think it hit him. At first he seemed okay, but then he just collapsed." Tech stammers out.

Wrecker's brow furrows as he watches the Jedi move to her hands and knees, locking her fingers together and positioning the heel of her hand over Hunter's sternum. "What are you-"

"Hunter's heart isn't beating. Shockpack in the med bay. Bright orange. Go." Bryn says.

Wrecker disappears as Bryn starts leaning all her weight onto her Sergeant's chest in rhythm. Crosshair can hear her muttering under her breath.

"fifteen... sixteen... seventeen..."

Wrecker returns with the case and sets it down at Hunter's side opposite Bryn. "Now what?" he asks.

Bryn stops pressing on Hunter's chest and pulls a vibroblade from its sheath on her thigh, sliding it through the front of the Sergeant's upper blacks. She immediately goes back to thrusting her hands into Hunter's chest. "Open the case. Put the pads on his chest like the picture and turn it on. Work around me." She says, her breath starting to become labored.

All the brothers freeze when Bryn suddenly leans down and presses her lips to Hunter's. The General is kissing their ori’vod.

After a couple seconds Bryn straightens back up and goes back to pushing into Hunter's chest. When she notices the squad frozen around her she barks at them, "I gave you an order!"

Her voice shakes Crosshair and Wrecker form their daze and they quickly work together to follow her instructions. They peel the backing off the sticky shock pads and press them to Hunter's chest. Wrecker presses the green 'on' button and a smooth voice comes from the shock pack.

'Device on. Pads attached. Analyzing heart rhythm. Do not touch the patient.'

Bryn stops her movements and holds her arms out to keep the brothers back.

'Shock advised.'

'Do not touch the patient. Deliver shock.'

Bryn reaches across Hunter and presses a big flashing button on the shockpack and Hunter's body jolts with electricity.

'Continue Compressions.'

Bryn immediately jumps back to Hunter's chest, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. "Come on, Hunter. Come on." She mutters under her breath.

A few sickening cracks come from the Sergeant's chest and Tech adjusts his goggles. "It appears you have broken his ribs."

Crosshair balls up his fists. "She just broke his what?"

Tech peers over her shoulder. "Are you sure-"

"Of course. I'm sure." Bryn snaps as she continues pressing on Hunter's chest.

Crosshair reaches out and wraps his hand around one of her wrists, trying to stop her motions. "Do you really think I'm going to let you keep doing that?"

"Crosshair, please." She huffs, continuing against his tightening grip.

"How do we know you actually know what the hell you're doing-"

"How dare you. I'm trying to save him. You have to trust me." Her eyes flash with fire, making him release her.

She leans down and presses her lips to Hunter's again. The brothers look on helplessly as their General returns to compressing Hunter's chest.

After a mother minute, the eerily calm voice speaks from the shockpack again.

‘Analyzing heart rhythm. Do not touch the patient.’

Bryn holds her arms out over Hunter, waiting for the device.

'Shock advised.'

'Do not touch the patient. Deliver shock.'

This time, Tech reaches down and presses the flashing button on the orange device and Hunter's body jolts once more.

'Continue Compressions.'

Strands of hair fall into her face as Bryn braces against Hunter again. After she presses her lips to his once more she starts muttering under her breath.

"Come on Hunter. Breathe. Come back." Bryn feels a pull in the Force and she reaches out for it, pushing it through her palms into her Sergeant.

A tear falls from her face and hits Hunter's cheek. Suddenly, he takes a gasping breath, his eyes flying open. His brothers immediately lurch forward to be closer as Bryn takes her hands off him and leans back on her heels.

Hunter's eyes move frantically around him to get oriented. "Wh-what?"

He tries to sit up but Bryn presses a gentle hand to his shoulder to keep him laying flat. She shushes him gently, "It's okay, you're okay. Just lay still for a second."

Hunter blinks. "What happened?"

Bryn gives him a weak smile. "Your heart stopped."

"That component that you fitted blew off the ship and struck you." Tech remarks. "What I don't understand is how it caused this."

Bryn strokes a few strands of Hunter's hair. She responds without moving her eyes from him. "Commotio cordis. When an object hits someone in the chest in just the right spot at just the right time in their heartbeat, it causes the heart to stop."

Wrecker's eyes widen. "That can happen?"

"It's rare, but yes." Bryn nods as she peels the shock pack pads off of Hunter.

"Oh so that’s what our chest plates are for." He says sarcastically.

A laugh escapes Bryn as she shakes her head. Hunter tries to sit up again but groans in pain and lays back down.

"I get my heart stopped, but it's working now. Does someone want to tell me why my chest hurts so bad?" He moans.

"The General broke your ribs." Tech says simply.

Hunter looks back at Bryn who gives him an apologetic face. "Broken ribs or death. Those were your options." She simply replies. "Bacta patches should be on the ship. Do you think you can get up or do you want us to bring one to you?"

Hunter shakes his head. "No, I'm good. I can get up."

Bryn offers Hunter her hand and supports his back with the other as he gingerly sits up. Another groan passes his lips as he stands with additional help from Tech. The perma-bunk in the Marauder's med bay creaks slightly as Bryn and Tech sit him down on it, leaning him back on pillows.

"I'll leave you to it, General." Tech says.

As the door slides closed behind him, Bryn moves over to the med cabinet and pulls out the bin of bacta patches. After fishing out the correct size, she turns around to Hunter who's watching her intently.

The bunk creaks again as Bryn sits down on its edge. She peels the backing off the patch and gently presses it over the center of Hunter's chest where she felt his ribs break. Hunter hisses at the pressure.

"I know, I'm sorry." Bryn says, tossing the patch wrapper in the trash bin.

Hunter shakes his head. "Don't apologize. You saved my life."

Bryn gives him a smile as she reaches over to grab some trauma scissors off the counter. "These blacks are spent, I'm assuming you don't want them?" She says, gesturing to his cut upper blacks, revealing the continuation of his skull tattoo.

He laughs, "I don't know. This could be my new look."

Bryn rolls her eyes again as she cuts up each sleeve, allowing the fabric to fall from Hunter's figure. He leans forward with a grimace to allow Bryn to pull the shirt out from behind him.

"You're going to need to rest for a bit before you're back on your feet. With the bacta, a couple hours should be enough." Bryn says, standing up from the bunk. "Here, I can take your armor off to make you more comfortable."

Hunter nods his consent and Bryn gently slides his feet out of his boots and undoes the fastenings on his lower armor pieces, shifting him gently to remove them. In just his lower blacks, he settles into the medbunk, looking much more content. Bryn turns to leave the med bay, but Hunter grasps her wrist.

"Stay?" He asks, pleading with wide eyes.

His demeanor shocks Bryn for a moment, but the look on Hunter's face draws her back to the medbunk. Slowly, she sits back down on the bunk and scoots in next to Hunter. He turns his body to curl into her and rests his head on her chest, breathing in her sweet woody scent.

Bryn can feel his energy swirling, it's tense, jittery. "It's okay." She mutters.

"I've never heard of anything like that happening before."

Although Hunter put up a front of strength for his brothers, it is quickly slipping in Bryn's calming presence. She bites her lip as the miniscule tremble in Hunter's voice reminds her how little of the galaxy the clones have seen.

Bryn's arm wraps around his back. "I know that was scary."

It's barely noticeable when Hunter nods his head. "Different from battle. If you hadn't..."

She gently shushes him. "I've got you, just rest."

Hunter's breathing slows into little puffs of air as Bryn absentmindedly plays with his soft curls. He stirs for a second and mumbles something she can't quite hear.

"What was that?" She asks.

Hunter lets out a little huff of air. "Tech is never going to let this go."

Bryn laughs lightly, and rests her chin on the top of his head. "Next time, I'll work on the ship with Tech."

The door to the medbay whooshes closed behind Bryn as she steps into the Marauder's hallway and straight into an armored figure.

"Wha- Crosshair." She says.

The sniper's lip curls at her. "Break anything else?"

Bryn shakes her head. "He just got to sleep, can we at least do this outside?"

Crosshair looks her up and down and turns to leave the Marauder without another word. Sighing, Bryn follows after.

Their boots crunch in the dirt as Crosshair stomps down a trail towards the nearby river. When he reaches the banks, he turns around to face the Jedi behind him. Bryn stands with her arms crossed. "Well, go ahead."

"Go ahead with what?" Crosshair sneers.

Bryn drops her arms, resting a hand on her belt. "You obviously have some choice words you want to say to me. I thought we were past this, Crosshair."

His temple twitches as he clenches his jaw. "We're taught to keep our opinions about superiors to ourselves." he spits out as if the words are poison.

Bryn's eyebrow twitches in amusement. "Well then, if that's how you want to do it." She shakes her head and straightens her posture to full attention. "I, Jedi Master Bryn-ayla del Caro, member of the Jedi High Council and General of the Galactic Army of the Republic, permit you, Clone Commando CT-9904, designation Crosshair, to speak freely without risk of penalty or court martial for misconduct or insubordination." She finishes in a mocking tone.

This just makes Crosshair roll his eyes as he starts stomping back and forth along the river bank. "Do you have to make a joke or positive spin out of everything?"

Bryn smirks. "Like you don't always have a remark? You're throwing stones from a glass house."

"Aurgh!" He growls out. "You're infuriating. Look at you, high and mighty Jedi Master, nothing can touch you, the galaxy is at your feet. And my brothers! My brothers falling in love with you instantly, I'm not so easily turned..."

Bryn takes a breath. "Crosshair... I've really been trying with you. I'm not forcing myself into your space, I'm giving you time to get used to me, letting you process. You're like a karking tooka, one day I think you're warming up to me, the next you can't stand the sight of me. What, do I need to leave out a saucer of blue milk for you?" 

The sniper's eyes are nearly glowing. "I am not some mindless animal for you to wrangle-"

"Of course not." Bryn cuts him off. "You're human, with thoughts and emotions all your own. It's not my job to wrangle you. My job is to protect you. You think I'm untouchable? I envy you, Crosshair. Your brothers are still alive, you got to grow up with them, know them for who they are. The closest thing I've had to a family is the Order and even then, they're not the most understanding bunch. The four brothers I had were taken before I got a chance to see who they had become. But I see you, Crosshair." 

His feet come to a stop under her gaze and he gets that feeling again, that she's looking through him. 

"You are so full of emotion, though you try to hide it." Bryn says, her voice calm. "The love you have for your brothers, the anger at the other clones for shunning you. Your worry that you won't be able to protect them. I haven't delved into your mind out of respect for your privacy, but I do get waves of what's overflowing from you. Your frustration with me. You've been treating me like I'm going to treat you as the rest of the galaxy has, but you're realizing that I'm different. That scares you, and you're resisting. You're resisting your desire to drop the act and accept me." 

Crosshair's shoulders drop as he finally lets some tension go. Bryn can see the words turning over in his head. What she said was true, they both know it. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Bryn is knocked over by an unseen force.

Blinking from the impact with the ground, she sees Crosshair, draped in a heavy net, same as what hit her. He stops struggling against the net as his eyes set on something behind her.

"Well, well. What do we have here?” A voice sneers, dirt crunching under boots. “A trooper, and a Jedi. That should get us a nice score."

Another voice snickers. "Hondo will be pleased."

Bryn starts to retort, but the nets pinning her and Crosshair to the ground light with electricity, searing through their bodies before their vision goes black.

A/N: As I was doing the final formatting to post this chapter I was thinking. Why wouldn't the Batch know how to do CPR since they are trained in basic field medicine? I mean you could say the Kaminoans didn't think it was necessary training for them since they're not GAR Medics, or that the Clones are engineered to not have heart defects and their armor protects them, or their chest plates have AEDs inside them to detect a cardiac arrest and shock them automatically (because CPR doesn't really revive someone in cardiac arrest, an AED does. CPR just keeps the blood/oxygen circulating through their body long enough for the shock to work). But the longer I thought about it... It likely just wasn't taught because there were so many clones in the GAR, if one dropped from Cardiac Arrest, they'd just call it a KIA fatality or a 'defective' and move on, which then gave me the sads (wow what a surprise, an author giving themselves the sads with something they are wholly responsible for writing). The clones deserved so much better.

Taglist:

@callsign-denmark @arctrooper69 @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @photogirl894

[palmtreesx3]

This was a thing that popped in my brain and I couldn't shake it. So.. get ready to melt 🫠

TW: parental abandonment/relinquishment

---

It's been a slow evening. The humid summer air has weaseled its way inside the firehouse after the Rookie left the garage door open a crack and while everyone else is bunked up and getting their rest, Steve is making himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, unable to sleep a wink. Never able to sleep a wink.

Steve likes the overnight, because it's rare he actually finds this level of comfort in his insomnia anywhere else. Is quiet, safe and he's always ready for anything. Anything anyone needs. At home it's quiet and dark and lonely. He feels useful here, even in the silent hallways of the firehouse.

Disheveled hair falling in his eyes as he bides the time until morning, he is almost down to the bottom of his cup when he hears the unmistakable static on the radio coming through from dispatch. He kicks down his heels from where they were resting on the table and bounds over to the desk to take the call.

"Dispatch to Station 19. Dispatch to Station 19." The radio blares out.

"Station 19 here, what's going on? "

"Dispatch to Station 19 - 10-37 at your location. Alarm triggered 1 minute and 36 seconds ago."

"10-4. Standby."

Steve rushes down the hallways darting into the bunk room and tapping his teammates by their boots to jostle them awake. He doesn't wait, just switches on the lights and maneuvers through the house down to the first floor. Steve arrives at his destination and stands there, taking in a big bated breath before clicking the latch on the box and slowly opening the door.

The others arrive, boots squeaking abruptly when they come to an astonished halt, just as the door opens fully. Not one of them has ever been here for a 10-37 before. Not one of them has ever had to unlatch that metal box. Not one of them has ever had to be the first to lay eyes on a sweet, wrigling newborn left for a better life.

It takes Steve a fraction of a second before bringing the baby close to his chest and turning to his brothers and sisters, "Bring the rig around, we need to take her to the hospital to get checked - and someone else confirm with dispatch - Safe Haven baby is aquired and we're on our way."

The team gathers around with soft and sympathetic eyes admiring this angel baby left on their door step. Porcelain skin and whisps of thin brown hair scattered along her forehead, a warm blanket wrapped around her body, and her pudgy cheek nuzzled right in on Steve's broad shoulder, she's been there 5 minutes and she hasn't even uttered a peep. It doesn't take long for someone to run up along side, already shaking up the ready-to-eat formula bottles on hand at the house for emergencies. Steve takes the bottle without hesitation "Can someone bring me my boots? I'm going with her."

---

One of the other firemen drive while Steve sits in the back with the tiny girl. He holds her gently, bottle to her lips as the rig bumps down the streets on its way to the emergency room. Steve is no stranger with jumping to action. There's no time to think about things when navigating an emergency, and he's good at it. Too good at subduing his own feelings, needs and emotions. It's why everyone says he's two steps away from being the youngest Sergeant the house has ever had... so it's not until this moment that he's able to take in what happens and what lays before him.

When the little girl opens her eyes and looks up at Steve for the first time since he opened the box, he's not sure what to think. They're big, wide, and impossibly blue like the ocean, and the way she's looking back at him makes his heart melt. "It's okay babygirl, you'll be okay now. I know what it's like to feel left behind. I know." And the blue eyes blink up at him as her sweet baby lips pop off of the bottle and coo "But I promise, you will be loved. You won't be left alone again."

Nothing has been more crystal clear in his life. Crystal clear like the blue in this baby's eyes. He knows what he has to do.

The second he gets to the hospital and hands off the baby to the nurses, he picks up the phone and dials Robin's number. It's late, but Steve knows she'll pick up. Mostly because ever since he's taken this job she's been very clear that she is terrified - "You know I'll live in perpetual terror that I'll get a late night phone call that something has happened to you, Steve" - he's heard it at least once a week since then.

"Steve? I know it's you? Or it's about you? Fuck - is he okay?" She audibly gasps.

"Robin, Robin, cool it. Everything is okay." He says quickly before his friend loses her mind.

"Okay" he hears her breathing deeply on the line " ....now that my goddamn blood pressure is returning to normal... To what do I owe this incredibly late night call to, then my friend?"

"I have a problem, Robbie. And I need you to tell me that I'm not crazy."

"Well there's something I can definitely not promise you, but hit me with it anyway. " She sleepily jabs.

---

Three days later, Steve finds himself standing on the sidewalk, arm in arm with his friend Robin. They're looking up the walkway towards the hospital entrance in silence. He's waiting for her to say something snarky - anything to get him to change his mind or be realistic at the last second - but it never comes. Instead she's waiting for him to take the first step - because ever since she heard him out on that late night phone call, she knew he had made up his mind. She knew that in some crazy way this made so much sense. She knew that when they came back through those doors in a few hours, Steve Harrington would be a dad. Robin let's go of Steve for just an instant to bend over and grab the car seat sitting between their feet. She offers it out to her friend "Let's go dingus. This girl needs her daddy. Hm?"

He reaches out to grab it from Robin, interlocking his other hand with hers and smiling bigger than he has in years. "Yeah, Rob. Let's go get her."

[ellie-andthemachine]

The Rookie: Echoes of the Past (Chapter Two) Synopsis: From oldest rookie to T.O., John Nolan takes on training the newest rookie, Officer Ellie Moore. In her first 6 months on the force, an unresolved case catches up to her, putting her survival to the ultimate test. A tale of mentorship, resilience, and facing one's demons head-on.

Read Chapter One here: Chapter ONE

“Hey, I’ll take the wheel for the first half of the shift if you’d like,” Lucy offered.

“You’re the boss, go for it,” Aaron chuckled.

Lucy started the vehicle and pulled away from the station, heading out onto the busy streets of L.A.

“7-Adam-07, show us on patrol,” Thorsen radioed in.

“So, you and Nat are going on another date, then?” Lucy asked, curious. “You said that you two hit it off really well.”

“Oh yeah, next weekend. It’s crazy; she knows all about me and doesn't even have an issue with any of it.”

“Well, why should she? You proved your innocence in more ways than one, especially with the documentary. You're a really stand-up guy.”

“Thanks, Luce,” Aaron said. “She knows the money I come from, and she doesn't care. It’s like nothing bothers her about it.”

“That’s Nat for sure: down to earth, humble, and super sweet.” Lucy smiled, “I’m so glad that you two hit it off well. Just FYI, I want an invite to the wedding.”

Aaron laughed, “Hell, you’ll probably be in the damn wedding. Matron or Maid of Honor and all that shit.”

“I wouldn’t say no. She’s an amazing friend and deserves to be happy, and maybe that’ll be with you. Who knows?”

“I hope you’re right. I’m ready for a lifetime of happiness; that’s for damn sure.”

The two rode in comfortable silence, with dispatch radioing other units in the background.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Lucy asked.

"Sure, what’s up?"

"Have you noticed anything going on with Ellie? You two talk sometimes."

"All I know is that she’s been having some trouble sleeping. I mentioned how tired she looked the other day after the shift. Apparently, she deals with insomnia a few times a year; she says it's nothing she isn't used to."

"Do you think it's enough to affect her work?"

Aaron looked over at Lucy. "No, I don't. Why? Are you concerned that it might?"

Lucy sighed. "Not overly, no. I do worry about her. However, at the same time, I want to make sure it doesn't impact her while she's on patrol. We have to leave our personal issues at the door when we come in, no matter how difficult it is."

Aaron nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Hell, I'm sure every single one of us understands the danger it poses if we don't."

"Exactly. Look, if she talks to you—which I doubt she will, because Lord knows she barely opens up to us girls—but if she does, could you keep me in the loop?"

"Of course. Though I'm pretty sure you have nothing to worry about. She seems levelheaded enough."

"You know as well as I do that things can always change."

"True."

Lucy and Aaron pulled into the circular driveway of their alarm call.

“This is 7-Adam-07, dispatch, show us on scene,” Aaron radioed in. “False alarm, dead body, or burglary? Where’s your bet?”

“It's super quiet. I don't think it's a false alarm; we would've gotten a call from the owner. The owner may not be home, which leads to a possible burglary.”

“...or he could be dead and burgled.”

“Yeah, let’s not take any chances,” Lucy said, leading the way to the front door of the home. “Uh, Aaron, I’d say your bet is the closest; look,” she pointed to the steps, motioning to the blood droplets.

“Blood and the front door ajar. I’ll take back?”

“Yeah, radio if you find anything.”

“You too.” Aaron said as he unholstered his weapon and headed towards the rear of the home.

“7-Adam-07, our alarm call has turned into a suspected homicide and burglary. Standby.” Lucy radioed into dispatch and removed her weapon as well. Pushing the front door open, she called out, “LAPD!” Hoping for some kind of response, she received none.

Going room by room, she quickly but effectively clears them, noting nothing out of the ordinary in any. Upon coming to the bottom of the stairway moments later, she notices smeared blood on the wooden handrail. “Thorsen, I cleared the downstairs. There’s blood on the handrail. I’m heading up. What’s your status?”

“Clear. No sign of any forced entry. Nothing out here to indicate that anything happened. I’m heading around front to come in. Be careful.”

Lucy starts heading upstairs, her gun raised, ready for any altercations. “LAPD, is anyone up here?” She calls out once more. She receives no response again.

The first room she comes to is a bathroom. Nothing out of the ordinary. The next room is a guest room. Same. The third room’s door is ajar. She notices blood droplets on the white carpet, blood on the doorframe and knob.

Pushing the bedroom door open, she’s greeted with the sight of what she guesses is the homeowner—deceased. Lucy checks for a pulse and finds none. Sighing, she notices a closet and the master bathroom, and works carefully to clear the interior rooms.

“Chen, where are you at?” Aaron calls, entering through the front door.

“Upstairs, master bedroom on the left,” Lucy yells out. “I cleared the other rooms up here. I think I found the owner.”

Aaron quickly makes his way upstairs, heading for Lucy. “Aw, what the hell is that?”

“I’m going to guess our homeowner,” she says as she pulls out her radio. “This is 7-Adam-07, dispatch, notify detectives that our alarm call is a homicide.”

“7-Adam-07, copy.”

“Luce, look. There’s a message carved on his chest,” Aaron points out to Lucy.

Lucy walks over to the body of the homeowner and notices the bloody message that he has pointed out.

“'GiVe Me MOre,'” she reads aloud. “Give who more, and give them more of what?”

Aaron and Lucy look at each other, both curious and concerned.

"Victim’s name is Anton Yelkavich. Age 34. Has ties to Sureno 13," Lopez said, informing Chen and Thorsen. The scene was busy with crime scene techs.

"Sureno 13?" Lucy asked.

"Local gang. I noticed the number 13 burned into our victim’s flesh, back of his leg," Aaron said. "They’ve only been around for like, I dunno, 5 years?" he explained. "Any idea who’d want him dead?" he asked Angela.

"I’m guessing any of the other members of the gang, maybe even their leader, Victor Martin. We busted Anton months ago, and he flipped on the leader. Word has it Anton was going to get the others to also flip on Victor."

"So, you think that the others might also be in danger?"

"Possibly. We’ll have to check the list on the others and follow up with them. Are you guys able to help with that?"

"Of course," Aaron spoke up. "Hey, the message that was carved into Yelkavich, any idea what it means?"

"No. It doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe combing through the file might help some," Lopez said.

“We’ll meet you back at the station and split up the names,” Lucy said.

“Sounds good. See you two then.”

Aaron and Lucy stepped back over to the other side of the yellow caution tape. “You think we’ll have more victims before the day is over?” Aaron asked.

Lucy sighed. “I do. That’s why we need to get that list of names and act fast. I just can’t figure out the message he left. He wants more. More of what, exactly?”

“You know as much as I do. Are you still driving?”

“You can, if you’d like.”

“Sure thing, let’s go.”

“7-Adam-07, show us returning to the station,” Lucy radioed in.

“7-Adam-07, copy.”

Nolan and Ellie arrived at the location of their domestic dispute call. The home was small and quaint, nestled in a nice neighborhood. It was surrounded by a white picket fence with a small open gate, giving it a clean and tidy appearance.

“Nice neighborhood. What do you think the dispute is about? Burnt cookies? Cold dinner? Warm beer?” Ellie scoffed, a hint of cynicism in her voice.

Nolan raised an eyebrow, looking at her. “Nice neighborhoods turn you off, boot?” he teased.

Ellie rolled her eyes at the nickname. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me that the nice white picket fence isn’t just a façade for what really goes on behind closed doors? It’s all a lie.”

“Well, until this call is settled, let’s just do our jobs,” Nolan replied, his tone more serious.

“Yes, sir,” Ellie said quietly, falling in step behind her training officer as they ascended the porch steps. She took the lead and knocked on the door. “LAPD!”

Waiting to see if anybody would answer the door and let them in, Ellie could hear signs of an altercation inside. “I hear yelling. Should I try again or go in?”

“Let’s try one more time,” Nolan decided, knocking on the door once more. “LAPD, open up!”

Still no response.

Then, a sound of breaking glass came from inside the house.

“Alright, go,” Nolan ordered, giving Ellie the green light to take action.

Ellie unholstered her weapon and turned the knob, her heart racing as she found the door surprisingly unlocked. “LAPD! Hands up!”

“Woah, don’t shoot!”

“What are you doing here?” Ellie demanded.

“We got a call regarding a domestic disturbance, and I’d say we’ve got one in front of us,” Nolan interjected, his voice steady and authoritative. “Now, can anybody tell us what’s going on?”

The man in the room finally found his voice. “My wife here filed for divorce and is suing me for full custody of our two kids,” he explained, pointing toward a scared young girl and boy huddled on the couch.

Ellie, feeling the tension begin to ease, holstered her weapon and exchanged a nod with Nolan. “Hey, kids, my name is Ellie, and this is John. We’re here to talk to your mom and dad, okay? Can you go upstairs for me until we’re done?”

The young girl nodded, her wide eyes showing a mix of fear and curiosity. She took her younger brother’s hand, and they hurriedly ascended the staircase, disappearing behind a closing door.

“Now, let’s talk,” Ellie said, her tone softer as she addressed the couple before her. “Can we talk?”

The wife nodded, her expression a mixture of anger and hurt. “My name is Laura; this here is Patrick. He’s a lying piece of cheating shit. Narcissistic to boot too.”

“What the fuck, Laura?!” Patrick shouted, his face turning red. “I told you I’m not cheating on you. And I’m NOT narcissistic, that’s your mother!”

“I’ve got all the proof, Patrick. Phone records, credit card statements, you name it. It’s over,” Laura spat, her voice shaking with frustration.

“Guys, come on. Have you guys ever gone to marriage counseling? Any remediation at all?” Nolan interjected, attempting to steer the conversation towards a more constructive direction.

“I tried to get him to go. He wouldn’t. Hell, all he would ever say is that he wouldn’t cheat on me again, and that was that. Even if he wasn’t, the mind games! The mind games are enough for me!” Laura's voice trembled as she spoke, the emotional turmoil evident in her words.

“What mind games, ma’am?” Ellie asked, her voice gentle, as she sought a way to shift the course of the argument.

“Always talking about how I would be nothing without him, how I was only ever meant to stay at home, mind the house, mind the kids, have dinner and a beer ready for him the moment he got home. Well, that shit might have worked back in the 60s and maybe the 70s, but it doesn’t work on me,” Laura explained with a mix of anger and exhaustion.

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Patrick said, his voice lowered, a hint of remorse in his eyes. “Laura, I love you. I fucked up before, but I swear, I’m not...” He trailed off, his words heavy with the weight of his emotions.

“Then why am I getting phone calls from Patrice, saying how you took her out to Antonio’s and to her house to fuck her?” Laura demanded, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and hurt. “I’ve got the proof, Patrick. The phone records with her phone number, the credit card statement.”

“Laura, Patrice is screwing with you. She’s been calling my number. I’ve only answered it to tell her to leave us alone. The credit card used at Antonio’s was me buying lunch for a coworker and myself, weeks ago.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I've got proof. It's in the other room, in the office. Can I go get it?” Patrick looked at Ellie, seeking her permission.

“Yes, go ahead.”

Patrick walked away, his steps heavy with the weight of his own distress, and Ellie turned to address Laura, her tone gentle but firm. “Laura, maybe hear Patrick out? Look, I’ve been through situations like this before, and Officer Nolan and I only want what’s best for your family.”

Laura's expression remained hardened. “With all due respect, Officer Moore, I’m making the best decision for our family. I’m getting us away from him,” Laura spat back, her words laced with a combination of anger and determination.

“All I’m saying is –”

“Gun!” Nolan's voice boomed, his eyes widening as he saw Patrick re-enter the room with a gun in his hand. “Patrick, put the gun down.”

Ellie had her gun out, her hands steady but her heart racing, her mind processing the rapidly unfolding situation. “Patrick, come on, put the gun down.”

“Yeah, Patrick, what are you gonna do, shoot me?” Laura's remark carried a tone of bitterness.

“Shut up, Mrs. Reynolds!” Ellie's voice snapped, her attempt to regain control of the room evident. “Come on, Patrick, you don’t want to do this. Think about your kids.”

Patrick's grip on the gun seemed shaky as he turned it towards Nolan, tears streaking down his face.

“Wait, stop!” Ellie's voice was sharp and commanding, her body moving to step in front of Nolan, acting as a human shield.

“Officer Moore, out of the way,” Nolan's voice cut through, his tone brooking no argument.

“I’ve got this, John,” Ellie insisted, taking a cautious step closer to Patrick, her eyes locked onto his. “Hey, things can be fixed. Don’t do this. You don’t want this hanging over you; it will make it harder to fight for your kids.” Her words were a mix of urgency and empathy, an attempt to reach a desperate man through the fog of his emotions.

Patrick's sobs wracked his body, his shoulders trembling as tears streamed down his face. “I only cheated once, early in our marriage. She’s never let it go. Laura and I were literally on a date last week, and we were happy. I don’t recognize my wife anymore.”

“We can help, Patrick. Please, let us help you both,” Ellie pleaded, her voice laced with empathy and a hint of desperation. Her eyes filled with genuine concern as she stared at the distraught man before her. “Let me help.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t. She has friends in high places. Higher than you. I will never see my kids ever again,” Patrick explained, his words weighed down by the heaviness of his despair. His vision blurred as tears continued to blur his sight.

“I understand what you're feeling, but fight against it. She may have influential friends, but that's okay. We can still help. Patrick, let me help,” Ellie's voice held a mixture of determination and compassion as she began to slowly extend her hand toward the gun he held, her breath held in anticipation.

“You can’t. I’m so sorry,” Patrick's voice was a quiet murmur, his grip shifting as he turned the gun and, in a heart-wrenching moment, shot himself in the head.

“No! Dad!” Ellie's anguished cry echoed through the room as she watched helplessly, her heart pounding, as he fell to the living room floor. The shock of the tragic scene unfolding before her was overwhelming, leaving her frozen in a moment of disbelief and sorrow.

“Ellie!”

“Patrick!”

Nolan and Laura both yelled out simultaneously, their voices laced with shock and grief. Laura's desperate steps propelled her towards Patrick's lifeless form, but John moved quickly to intercept her, his firm hold preventing her from reaching the scene of the tragedy. “Officer Moore are you okay?” he inquired urgently, his gaze assessing her for any injuries.

Surveying the somber tableau before him, John noted Ellie on her knees beside Patrick's motionless body, her uniform and face stained with blood, and her face an emotionless mask. The weight of the moment hung heavily in the air.

“He’s gone,” Ellie's voice was steady but carried an undercurrent of sadness that echoed through the room.

With a heavy sigh, John instructed Laura to go upstairs and check on her children, offering her a brief but supportive nod as she complied. As he reached for his radio, he summoned the necessary assistance. “7-Adam-15, I need an RA on site for our domestic dispute call, a suicide.”

“7-Adam-15, copy,” came the response, the acknowledgment a stark reminder of the heart-wrenching reality they were grappling with.

Ellie sat on the retaining wall at the perimeter, her face a mask of exhaustion and turmoil. She responded to Bailey's questions as best she could, her voice carrying a weariness that matched her expression.

“How is she?” Nolan approached them, his concern evident in his voice, having finished briefing the other officers on the scene.

Bailey motioned for John to step aside with her, creating a bit of distance from Ellie. “She’s in shock. She answered the questions I asked her, but it's clear she's exhibiting the classic signs. It's all there.”

John let out a heavy sigh, his weariness reflecting his emotional state. "I figured as much."

Curious and deeply concerned, Nolan asked, “What happened?”

“She tried to diffuse the situation, but it escalated rapidly,” John explained, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and sorrow. “She even stepped in front of me, literally in the line of fire. She believed she could get through to him. To both of them.”

Bailey’s expression shifted to one of understanding mingled with empathy. “Oh man. No wonder she’s in the state she’s in. That’s a lot to carry.” She shook his head slowly, grappling with the gravity of the situation they had witnessed.

Nolan and Bailey both turned their attention as commotion arose behind them, witnessing Ellie confronting Laura directly.

“You drove him to suicide! You threatened that man's children! What kind of mother does that?” Ellie's voice carried a mix of anger and accusation, her finger pointed accusingly at Laura.

“You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never been in my shoes!” Laura's voice wavered; her emotions raw as she fired back.

“I have! I have been in your shoes!”

“Officer Moore,” Nolan's voice boomed, a commanding force aimed at diffusing the escalating situation. “Stand down, now!”

Unfazed, Ellie continued to vent her frustration, her arm extending upwards toward the house. “Your husband explained everything in that room,” she yelled, her voice rising with each word. “And you just kept going at him!”

“Officer Moore! I said stand down!” Nolan's voice carried an even greater authority, the urgency in his tone unmistakable.

“Bitch, I will have your job if you don’t leave me alone. Like Patrick said, I have friends in high places. I’d watch yourself if I were you,” Laura's voice was laden with a warning as she turned and walked away, the tension in the air still palpable despite her departure.

Ellie began moving towards Laura with determination before being firmly restrained by John's grasp. “You disobeyed a direct order. You need to get back to our vehicle before I strip you of your badge. Now.”

The frustration radiating from Nolan was unmistakable, and Ellie's realization of her error hit her hard. She had indeed messed up. “Yes, sir,” she replied, her voice quiet and remorseful as she turned away and headed toward their police unit, slipping into the passenger seat.

“John, given the circumstances –”

“Bailey, she literally went after the victim’s wife. I wasn’t the only one who saw that. I won't be able to explain her way through this,” John's voice held a mix of exasperation and concern.

“Actually, Officer Nolan,” another voice chimed in from behind them, catching their attention. Another officer stepped forward, offering a different perspective. “Laura went after her. I overheard her saying that Patrick didn't actually commit the things she accused him of.”

Nolan turned towards the officer, seeking her nametag for identification. “Officer?”

“Hernandez, sir,” the officer responded. “Officer Moore was approached by the deceased victim’s wife. Laura started confessing that Patrick was telling the truth, that she hadn't filed for divorce because doing so would leave her with nothing. She mentioned that by his death, she would gain everything.”

Nolan exchanged a look with John, realization dawning upon them both. The situation had more layers than initially apparent, and they now had a more complex puzzle to unravel.

Bailey looked at Nolan, her expression a mix of astonishment and disbelief. “So, she just confessed to murder by suicide, basically?”

“Basically,” Hernandez affirmed, her voice carrying a tone of gravity. “Look, I’ve got it all recorded on my bodycam. You can have the footage for your case.”

“Thank you. I’ll get our Sergeant to retrieve the footage. Can you swing by the station later to give your official report?”

“Yes, sir. Right after we wrap up here, I'll head over.”

“Thank you,” Nolan acknowledged, signaling the end of their conversation. He turned his attention back to Bailey, his brow furrowed in contemplation. “While this development helps Ellie’s situation, I still need to talk to her. There's something that's bothering me about all of this.”

“Just... be careful how you approach it, okay? If you push too hard, she might shut down completely. Approach it tactfully.”

John nodded, his gaze meeting Bailey's with understanding. “I'll see you tonight at home.”

“Of course, hot stuff,” Bailey teased, offering him a playful grin as he walked away.

Observing Ellie's gaze fixed on the passenger side window, Nolan felt a pang of sympathy. The upcoming conversation was one he wished to avoid, but it was necessary. Settling into the driver's seat, he turned to face her.

“I need answers, and I need them now.”

Alright, so, here's chapter two. Much longer too. Sorry for the delay, I ended up growing an extra appendage in the form of a 3 year old little girl. She and hubby are finally in bed and now I am heading that way.

I totally accept constructive criticism. As well as a beta. So, if anyone is interested, let me know!

I hope y'all enjoy. If you have any questions, let me know!

[dragonqueenbizawagi]

I think we had a different brand than hello fresh specifically, but yeah. It can be a bit pricy compared to groceries where you live, but it's probably cheaper than takeout all the time (depends, check for yourself, and remember you're also paying for convenience). Those services are great tho if you're a teen/young adult who wants to learn to cook or become more comfortable in the kitchen (gotta practice those knife skills to get 'em sharp after all, hehe), but are daunted by the task. I found that I could pretty much do it all by myself, but if I fell behind and something needed doing while I was still busy with another step I had dad on standby to cover something. I could just call him into the kitchen and order him around like a real chef, lol! Like, "Watch the stove," "Chop these onions," or even one time "How much salt do I add to, 'salt the pasta water'?"

Btw, don't be afraid to look up 'stupid' questions like that - these recipes may be mostly beginner friendly but not everything is as intuitive as people think. I'm sure every cook has had to look up at least one obscure unit/method/ingredient before, like "what does julienne mean?", or "how to use (kitchen tool)" and I probably would have done that more if I hadn't taken two cooking classes in high school. Otherwise, you could just wing it and see how it turns out if that's more your style! I'm too over-cautious to do that tho. More power to you, since you'll be brave enough to experiment sooner!

PRO TIP: in order to not get swamped by all the steps needing to be done at once and start panicking like I did, here's a few things to help avoid that!

GET THE PREP DONE FIRST BEFORE COOKING ANYTHING!!! I know you think that you'll have time while it's in the oven, but you won't because you're too slow with the knife still (which is good, do it right before you do it fast) and you're probably supposed to be doing something else during that time anyway (usually making the sauce on the stove so it can be so it can be hot and ready when the stuff in the oven is hot and ready). So many times I had to call in backup because I was still cutting when the timer went off and I knew if I didn't hurry something would be cold by the time everything else was done. Don't do what I did! It's better to stand around waiting for stuff to cook than to be overwhelmed by the workload. And besides - there's always something to be done. Cleaning as you go is important but you could also set the plates out or something.

Actually, before you even touch the food, read through the recipe and play it out in your head. It's weird at first but trust me, the more you cook the more you'll get used to how long each step will take. So when you act it out in your head you might catch that certain things are going to take longer, or, "oh, I'll have to wash my hands a lot because I'm touching raw meat" and allot more time for things like that that aren't in the recipe.

If possible have someone else on standby to call in a panicked tone to come get the potatoes out of the oven before they burn. They do not have to be a good cook as long as YOU are a good director!

When all else fails, do your best not to panic. Or at least panic constructively. If everything needs to be done at once, get the cooking stuff FIRST and leave the cutting board alone until you're sure nothing's burning. Take stuff off the stove/out of the oven if need be and finish cooking/heat it back up later. It may not be perfect, but it'll be edible and probably still taste good anyway. If you flail a bit, that's fine. Professional chefs on tv flail and they've been doing this for years, so don't worry. It's fine, you're fine, everything is fine. Just work one problem at a time.

And if you completely muck it up and have to trash everything (which is not as likely as you think, calm down anxiety)– shrug it off and order a pizza. You deserve it after all that stress and you can just try again next time, learning from your mistakes. Shit happens, food/money gets wasted, and we try try again. Welcome to adulthood!

hey jsyk while hellofresh is dummy expensive and i wouldn’t reccomend it if you already know how to cook (if you’re a beginner like i was when i had it for 3 months, then it’s worth it), you should know that ALL OF THEIR RECIPES are free on their website and they all fuck hard

i will say that all the cooking instructions for veggies are pretty much the same (season with salt + pepper and roast on the top oven rack at 425F), but if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

that being said, it also introduced me to methods i wasn’t at all expecting. i would have never thought to use cream cheese in my meat sauce, and now all my friends are constantly asking me to make my special rigatoni.

happy cheffin! :)

[genshingarbage]

Call His Name.

Xiao x Reader / Scaramouche

Was feeling a bit angst like so this post is a result of it, all things considered my life is great right now lmao so the need to write something so dark is just because I'm born evil sorry guys, warning, this has a very dark twisted Scaramouche in it, he is nothing but a bad guy in this, so if you don't wanna see that then maybe don't read this post. - Mod Diluc

"How many times have I got to ask, disobedient scum." His voice was laced with an undying anger, more a last warning then a question leaving his lips.

Another swift and hard kick aimed at your lower abdomen left you heaving, a sharp inhale of air being choked out by another painful coughing fit.

Your hand weakly shook down to press against your aching stomach, your body littered with bruises and cuts now, dried blood stuck to your every wound that this monster had carelessly inflicted upon you.

"My patience is running thin." His voice bellowed out again, the irony to speak of patience when the man failed to have an ounce of it, it didn't leave you without a dry chuckle escaping your cracked lips.

Which of course, he heard all too clearly.

The sound of shuffling as his foot lifted up- you knew already to tense for the impact. The fact he hadn't held back this whole time meant you knew better than anyone now to severely brace yourself.

Eyes squeezed shut tightly awaiting for another harsh hit to land against you. Waiting, and waiting. Then you felt it, a cold sensation against your cheek, it sprawled across the entirety of your skin, allowing goosebumps to rise with such haste.

Your eyes shot open and every breath filled with nothing but disbelief to what be displayed before you. Crouched down you could see the intricate design of his clothes more clearly now; through one eye at least, somewhere through the beating he'd given your left eye too much swelling and left it blood shot. Your vision was too blurred to look through it anymore.

His hand was stretched out, touching your skin, you wanted to reel back in horror, in disgust. But the look in his motionless eyes left your blood running cold, your body was on standby, unresponsive to your pleading to create space between you and him.

His abuse you'd been able to handle as of so far, but this sudden act of gentleness, such a mercy he was incapable of giving, you knew for sure. It was all an act, and the fact you knew this is what made his hand carefully caressing your cheek all the more chilling, all the more terrifying.

Your heart was trying to break through your ribcage now that you was sure of, beating so fast and hard, your breaths had been sounding uneven and erratic the moment he'd closed the gap between you two. Why he was just crouched there, studying your battered and broken form with such a monotone expression was beyond your capability of understanding right now.

"I see now." His voice shattered the eerie silence that had been filling your body with anxiety from the get go. He sounded so detached, so distant. Not here.

His eyes had glazed over all the scars, cuts, bruises, all the horrible trauma he'd call art. A sudden click of his tongue made you jolt ever so slightly, it was very sudden, an very small, but he felt it.

With an exasperated sigh he lifted back up, the sounds of his hands clapping against his knees in the process, acting a kin to a teacher checking a student who'd fallen in his class.

"Stand up." He ordered.

You let out a soft whimper, the thought alone making your muscles burn and ache.

He rolled his eyes, looking fed up, as if you were behaving like nothing more than a bratty child to him.

Without warning he bent down, tightly grabbing your already damp matted hair into his fist, balling it tightly and secure. Standing back up and yanking you onto your feet followed by a shriek of pain.

"Come now, you haven't lost your legs yet, use them while you still can." Was all he said as he positioned you back to standing up as best as your body could muster. What he said sounded like advice but it was definitely a foreshadowing warning.

You stood there, wobbling, swaying side to side ever so slightly. Your head was in excruciating pain, so dizzy, so unbalanced. The ground wouldn't stop moving around you, your breathing was still hard and heavy, a slight bubble kept making itself known in your breathing. No doubt your insides had taken a battering too, blood trying to rise out from some high probability of internal bleeding.

"Look at me." He ordered again.

You didn't want to obey, of course you didn't, every thought in your head was that of curses and insults being thrown right at that porcelain skinned Harbinger.

But what good what that do you? Except lose your legs huh?

So reluctantly you lifted your disoriented gaze at him; blurred and unfocused you could only know it was him by that obnoxious signature hat of his faintly being read by your one good eye now.

"You believe there is a way out of this don't you?" His hands crossed over one another against his chest. The sound of amusement evident in his villainous voice.

"You believe you can somehow survive long enough to not have to resort to what I was so kindly requesting from you-" He gave you a curt up and down scan before shrugging. "Before you made me lose my temper of course." He finished with a scoff.

You didn't reply, in all honesty you couldn't. You were at a loss for words, a loss for any coherent thought over this matter now. But he was right, you were still hopeful that if you just bared through this long enough, something would happen to help you. Something that wouldn't involve putting him in danger.

Another click of his tongue quickly pulled you away from your thoughts however.

"I know you can talk brat, this stubborn behaviour of yours isn't doing you favours and it's only exhausting my last straws of mercy." His arms tensed with an underlining lace of frustration toward this situation. Good. Like hell you were ever gonna make this easy for him.

After a few more painfully slow seconds of silence he closed his eyes lifting his head and sighing out slowly, his hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I'll try this one last time." He let the words roll out slowly, indicating his dying patience now.

"Call, for, him." He ordered.

You stood there, the pain in your body was becoming unbearable from being forced to stand still, the dizziness was growing stronger by the second, the aches, the burning of your cuts and the stinging as the wind blew across your tattered clothes. Your dried blood itchy and uncomfortable, your sweat making you damp and your hair a matted mop of mess. You were clearly the loosing opponent in this fight, you didn't even have a vision to help what feeble fight you'd ever had, but you knew as long as you didn't say that one word, that one name; you were winning.

When it was made apparent that even now you wasn't going to submit, the colour in his eyes somehow managed to darken if it were even possible. He came toward you without a sound, you tried to back up but you fell instantly onto your behind, a grunt escaping your mouth. You were in so much pain and your body just wanted to succumb to the injuries now.

He closed in fast, the look of sheer anger and fury burning in his eyes, locking a fistful of your hair in his hand again he hoisted you up aggressively till your knees were being scuffed and scraped against the cold concrete, looking down at you with nothing but disgust.

"I've been too soft on you, that ends now." Is the last thing you heard before the cackle of lightening fizzed against your ear, and before you could protest you were cut off by your own blood curdling screams, electro pulsed through your body with an uncontrolled ferocity. Your skin felt like it was burning alive, your chest tightened and your heart ached, it felt like a heart attack was going to be your final feeling before death finally made you its own.

He stopped after a few seconds, but for you, it felt like hours, steam danced off your body, your skin burning hot, your eyes red with blood, your hairs on your body stood up with fine accuracy, the smell of your fried flesh hit your nose and you instinctively gagged. Your consciousness began to fail you but he roughly shook you in order to keep you there with him, present in the pain.

"We've barely begun my beautiful plaything, let me hear those screams again." He mused against your ear with a venom spilling from the tongue.

It continued for what felt like eternity. The sharp zaps coursing through your blood burning everything in its wake. Leaving you on the near brink of death, everytime you thought he'd finished he start up again. It overwhelmed your mind, your muscles and your senses, all you could make sense of now was pain and agony. Your body was soon to give up entirely whether he wished for it too or not.

Tears finally began to make there way down your cheeks, rushing down fast, dropping onto the concrete, the flesh of your knees long since cut and bruised with blood drying there now too. Another work of art against the canvas that is your skin, that's how Scaramouche would observe it anyway.

He looked down at your face, through the steam; through the hazy fog of purple that had been conjured from his electro. To see your pupils wider than ever; a clear sign you were on your last legs. The crazed smile painted on his face made you sob more violently, made you want to throw up all the remaining contents in your stomach, you dry heaved next to his feet and he scowled at you. Forcing your eyes back up at him.

"Don't even think about it trash." Was all he warned. He couldn't care in the slightest over the pain you was feeling, over the hurt you were going through right now. He physically wasn't capable of it. Besides to him you'd asked for this, had you just obeyed him sooner he wouldn't have had to go to such drastic measures: not that he's complaining, he likes to indulge in his darker fetishes sometimes.

He bought his hand to your face and wiped away your tears onto his thumb, letting it slide against his tongue. A delighted groan escaped him as he done so. He was enjoying this more than he'd previously realised, he could get use to having you as his plaything back at his camp, it would be a good way for him to release his frustration. Pleased with the thought he bent down ever so slightly and leaned right into your reddened ear.

"I think I'm going to keep you around with me for a bit longer. Your kinda growing on me you piece of dirt." He spat it out with such hatred. For how could something so weak and pathetic have such a pretty face and such pretty eyes. He got excited thinking about how he'll soon remove the light from those sparkling eyes, carve more of his artwork into your skin, into his canvas. He'll make you beautiful, his type of beautiful.

You screamed out in sheer fear now, this is not what you'd planned, you just wanted death to take you now. Anything! You refused to let your fate fall into his hands; refused to become his plaything. He looked down at your wailing form, your fragile broken spirit was heavenly to him, pure ecstasy. A devil's grin came across his face as he saw your resolve melt before him, saw your stubborn attitude falter and break. Then he finally got what he wanted.

"XIAO!" You screamed it at the top of your lungs, you cried it out with every last splinter of energy you had left in you. This isn't what you wanted, but you'd failed your other options, Scaramouche truly was a dark and twisted monster, a demon.

You felt it then and there, the shift in the wind, the change in the atmosphere, he was coming.

Scaramouche closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, overly joyed with the current position he found himself in. Looking down at you one last time, he merely scoffed and threw you to the floor harshly. You'd done your job for him now, once he's dealt with the Yaksha boy you'll be his free reward from all this effort.

He stood there, dead still, waiting slowly, patiently, all senses fired up and on edge. He wasn't a fool, he was privy to how well the adeptus had been trained in the arts of combat. Then suddenly the wind picked up abruptly, howling and whirling around like an untamed beast, the wind mixed the fog and caused a swirling haze to blanket over both you and the Harbinger. But he was far too prepared for such a trick, then cutting through the fog and wind like a blade against butter a flash and spear hurdled toward Scara.

A flash of purple and he was gone, you were left there alone now, the wind making your tattered clothes ripple as your hair danced wildly. So cold, so alone, so frightened.

Before you could process you heard the sound of something literally materialise behind you, you began to shake violently as you couldn't believe he'd won so quickly, was Xiao okay? Had you called him to his death... was this all your fault.

You flinched hard when you felt hands snake around your wounded body but then your breath hitched, you could tell from the careful, tender yet awkward embrace it was him, the way the wind didn't chill you anymore, and that soul crushing loneliness disbanded, it had to be him. You turned your head fast and was met with that all too familiar mask. Your heart couldn't help but flutter, for he was the one sign of hope you'd received through this entire ordeal.

"Xiao..." Your voice was barely a whisper, tones of disbelief laced all within it.

He simply nodded at you, his expression unknown for the mask conceiled it. His arms still round you protectively, then faster than you'd ever be able to process he lifts his hand and creates a harsh gust of wind which redirects an incoming bolt of purple electricity that was previously aiming straight for you both, it gets forced elsewhere and cracks somewhere distant against the top of a roof.

You can't see the scowl on Xiaos face but the way his head dips ever so slightly you can tell he's beyond angry. His grip on you loosens and your heart begins to sink, but you know he needs both hands to fight, so weakly you shake your body up to be half propped to see what lays behind the fog.

The faint glow of purple, murky thanks to the wind and fog but still prominent creeps closer, the sounds of lightening cackle and crisp all around; you'd think a thunder was due any moment. But no, this intense power and suffocating presence is thanks to Scaramouche, and Scaramouche alone.

A laugh can be faintly heard, before it picks up in its audibility, still low to the ground Xiao spins round once fast like a bullet and just like it was never there the wind dissipates with the fog, the surrounding environment revealed to you yet again. The blanketed fog finally being swept clear, you feel like you can breath properly again, that is untill the once murky clouded figure of the dreaded Harbinger is now on full display, walking slowly towards you and your now protector Xiao.

"Hate to break up the pathetic little reunion, but that right there." He growls as his finger aims to your weak self, electro cackling from the tip of his finger. "Is property of the Fatui Harbingers now, Yaksha." He finishes with a twisted dark smirk.

Staying low to the ground on purpose Xiao doesn't flinch, doesn't move a muscle, merely remains solid still, tense and alert. The suspense as Scaramouche comes to a halt himself and the stare off begins is stiffling to you. You would've started to believe time had frozen then and there from how silent and still the world became around you three, until Xiao is the first to make a sudden burst toward Scaramouche.

Spear aimed and ready to pierce he lunges forward with accurate precision, however the Harbinger was well known for many reasons; one being his knowledge when it comes to battles, he spins on his heels fast, twirling sharply, causing Xiao to fly past him, his spear catching the Harbingers uniform and tearing a small piece of his delicately woven sleeve.

He doesn't have time to be angry, he'll worry about it once the adeptus boy is dead he tells himself to remain focused, turning to aim his hands at Xiao whose already mid turn about to lunge again, electro blasts from his hands creating a glow of purple that coats across his skin and dances along the concrete floor beneath him.

Xiao flies into the air dodging the electro with ease, but unfortunately for him that is just what Scaramouche aimed for. A Cheshire grin on the twisted boys face is all you see as his hand raises up and he calls out with a tone doused in mockery.

"It's alot harder to dodge when not on solid ground, Yaksha!"

The electro comes cascading from his hands like a never ending fury from within. He's right, it is harder for someone to dodge when falling through the air, but he seemed to forget one very important thing, Xiao was a master in the skies, a shadow that's forever illusive.

Xiaos feet seem to bounce off the air as if he was running and bounding along the ground still; Like stones that ricochet the ripples of water when thrown at perfect angles. The look on the Harbingers face is nothing but frustrated shock. You can't help but be in awe at how Xiao moves so gracefully, such raw talent and skill.

Your face full of admiration doesn't go unnoticed as a pair of deep indigo eyes catches your expression. His lip curls in anger as he faces you, how dare you be looking so safe while still in his presence. Did your pretty self forget that you belong to him now? He glances at your eyes fixated on the Yaksha, and though still royally pissed off that you think you're safe in his presence, your pathetic hopeful look gave him the perfect idea to finish this fight.

Xiao swivels in the air as he sees the attention is no longer on him, but on you. You couldn't possibly tell from so far down but up here where its just him he can freely show worry and concern.

Scaramouche closes in on you at an uneasy pace once again and just like before you cowar slightly as he approaches. Instinctively you raise your hands and wrap them around your sore fragile self.

"No..." the softest of sounds escapes Xiaos lips without him realising as he sees your life going back into danger.

He can't help the rage that boils inside him so quickly as he begins to saw down through the skies, like a falling star picking up speed dangerously so.

"My darling pet, it would almost seem as if you're rooting for the other side-" the words drawl out his mouth in what you can only assume is to suppose to feign hurt.

He grabs your face, squeezing your chin in his grasp forcing your tired eyes to be entranced by his own, burning with a fire inside that only fans more and more out of control.

"But we all know that's not true, right?" He tilts his head expectantly at you, as if he was really awaiting your response.

You swallow down hard, your throat suddenly feeling so dry, so itchy, your chest now possessing that horrible tight sensation yet again.

You open your mouth ever so slightly daring to allow words to whimper from your mouth-

Smack.

Before you could even blink your against the cold concrete yet again, your face pressed hard into the rough stone. He'd lifted his hands from your face and slapped you before you'd even let a word out.

It stung and your eyes watered so much now, you were so fed up with this, but you couldn't help being afraid. Weakly you begin to pick yourself back up, or at least try too. Your arms shaking, your body feeling so heavy now.

You couldn't explain it, but no matter how many times he hit you down, you simply just refused to give in, to submit to him. So no matter how tired you was, how incredibly strained you felt, you started to lift up again, maybe it was your adrenaline, or your need to just survive, but you wouldn't stop trying to defy him.

Xiao was still racing down from the high above skies, he hadn't realised just how high up he'd been pushing himself to keep avoiding that Harbingers devastating electro attacks, but with every passing second his fury and rage kept growing. His resolve slowly beginning to fade, his sensible attitude dissolving, all he could see in his sights was nothing, nothing but, you.

You feel yourself get forced to stop lifting, a gentle caress grazing upon your scalp again, but it wasn't comforting in the slightest, it gave that same spine chilling feeling from before.

You screamed out when he yanked your hair hard like before and slung you around his body like a broken doll, placing you infront of himself, forcing you to be on your knees, angling your head to look up. One hand coiled in your hair, the other pressing the back of your head in a very odd angle.

"Look at that. Look at him." He ordered, and so you did, seeing the small dot that is Xiao slowly becoming bigger, and gradually coming back into focus as he nears you both, speed like a falling meteor.

"Isn't it beautiful to see?" He sighed to himself, your face painted with confusion. Did he not realise that Xiao was closing in to deal a deadly attack? Was he truly that unhinged now...

"Nothing makes me happier than to see them fall apart, loose what they hold so close to them." He kept going and you could do nothing but be forced to listen and watch your protector close in like a predator.

"I think I'm too merciful for my own good." He groaned lowly, and for a moment your breath hitched as you felt the cackle of lightening against the back of your head, that same heart wrenching fizzle sound burning your ears.

"At least the last thing that will kill him is those precious eyes of yours, seems rather fitting mmh?" He asks you with the full intent of not getting a reply. Then it hits you, what dark sinister plan he's conjured up. Your heart begins to race and your breath notches up in pace a couple hundred times over. This couldn't happen, no, it can't... not what he's planning, it can't possibly be what he's actually planning...

"His eyes really are only on you my pet, how sweet, makes me sick to my core." He growls lowly, Xiao was far closer now and was nearly in reach. Scaramouche made sure to keep your head aimed at his encroaching target that is the Yaksha.

What you orginally thought, was in fact the reality Scaramouche had planned out to do. Using your eyes, he has the full intent to fire lightening through your skull, frying you in the process and making the electro beam out from your eyes and hit Xiao head on. Two birds one stone kinda deal, he's nothing but efficient after all.

His grin grew more maliciously as the electro began to fizz and cackle louder from the back of your head now, sweat dripped from your forehead, so frightened and scared that words couldn't leave you. You wanted to scream at Xiao to turn and run, to leave now while he still can, but you were just so afraid... how useless you really were in the end...

"Smile my dear, its the grand finale of this little show after all, and what a performance it has been." He chuckles dryly.

Xiao having lost all control of his stable thoughts continued to barrel down at you both, and just as he got into right vicinity his eyes widened behind his mask, finally catching sight of the position you were in, on your knees in front of that deranged Harbinger. Being made to watch as he comes diving down, it is barely noticeable but to an Adepti the slightest things can be spotted from so far away, and that's how he manages to lock into the slight colouration of purple glimmering from behind your head.

You were trapped and had no way out of the position you were in, and for reasons he couldn't clearly explain he felt him getting too close was only gonna further worsen your position right now. So without thinking he hisses beneath his breath and is gone in a sudden haze of black and teal fog. Having teleported while in midair.

The Harbinger let's out an inhumane snarl from under his lips, and for a brief second you're utterly relieved that Xiao was able to pick up on something at least, even if it only was a little awry to him. He has no idea how serious that quick thinking decision really was right now...

Scaramouche can't help but grow rapidly irritated and throw you against the ground again. He turns to you, realising he can't sense the Yaksha anymore. What was this adeptus playing at? He was in no mood for anymore games that was for sure.

"Where is he." He growls at you, to which you only cough and heave in reply. Sprawled across the floor like an abused toy with a temperamental child as its owner. He lifts his hand up to you and the electro cackles once again.

"Very well; if I can't kill him, I'll settle with taking what he holds most precious to him." He clicks his tongue lazily after the words leave his mouth. He wasn't about to go back empty handed from all this, that's what he thought until he glanced up having felt the undeniable presence of someone all to familiar.

His eyes lock with the figure, the man stood upon one of the roofs, his shouldered cloak swaying in the wind, his deep ginger hair dancing gently across his deep crimson mask. His daggers resting either side his waist, the water droplets running down onto the tiles of the roof beneath him from the hydro formed weapons.

Scaramouches eyes narrow, he couldn't be sure but was that fool really challenging him right now? Or did the ill mannered brute have news to report. Eitherway the lower ranks presence had put a damper on the mood, he growls lowly not allowing his eyes to leave his so called colleagues form for a second, a thousand words pass in a single glance between the two Harbingers. The cackling stops and before you can even lift your head back up Scaramouche is gone.

Your sight finally begins to leave you slowly, and using what ounce of strength you have left you tilt your head up; your matted hair dropping around your face and clinging to your sweat and blood in a very ungracious manner. There you see him, you couldn't mistake that silhouette for anyone else; Tartaglia.

Standing there for a second longer than needed he looks at you scanning you, and as quickly as he appeared he turns and drops off the roof silently, disappearing.

Alone, tired, cold, frightened.

You hear voices growing louder somewhere, distant, so very distant.

"Y/N!"

"Miss Y/N, please, stay with us."

"We gotta get her somewhere safe fast, Xiao get her to Wangshu Inn fast!"

So many voices, all sounding so familiar... oh, that gentle embrace again? It feels so warm around your body, such tender care...

Such a pity you passed out before you could see who the voices came from.

Three Days Pass.

Your eyes open slowly, fluttering against the sun light that beams at you. It's blinding and painful, your eyes still far too sore for such a sudden intrusion.

You hear the sound of curtains pulling and the strain on your eyes relax, the room now a more dim colour. Your vision blurs for a second before finally things come into focus again.

Your heart stops for but a second when you're met with those golden eyes glaring at you from a slight distance.

"Xiao..." You whisper more to yourself than to anyone else.

His expression looks so stern, so angry, so scary...

But when your own face shows the slightest of fear. His expression softens instantly.

He doesn't dare move closer to you, not because he doesn't want to, but because he simply doesn't know what to do once he does.

You lay there, sore and achy, bruised and cut, but your wounds have been tended to expertly, bandages and plasters as well as stitches now engulf your skin, but you're in a soft warm bed with cosy silk cotton pjamas on.

You gave yourself a gentle once over and hummed in thought to who could've done this, it looks like it was all done with care and consideration, was it Ganyu? No... her stitches look different.

Mr. Zhongli perhaps? No that doesn't seem right either.

"I did it all." His voice breaks through your rushing thoughts and you look at him wide eyed, unintentionally of course, but it was a shock to hear.

"Y-... you did this for me?" You question back to him.

The way your voice falters and sounds so weak doesn't go unheard by him, he scolds himself mentally yet again before continuing.

"Yes, it was the least I could do, for not having been able to save you." He says it so harshly, but you can't help but feel like the harshness is for himself more than someone else.

You go to sit up and before you can even speak he's beside you gently pushing you back down. You look up in shock again, he's touching you so willingly now too?

The look you give makes him break from his sudden actions too, a faint dusted pink adorning his face as he clears his throat and steps back again.

"Don't..." He starts loud but his tone dies down increasingly so.

"-move so quickly. You need to heal." He finished awkwardly, and you can't help but smile gently. Something you didn't think you'd ever be able to do again.

"Thank you Xiao, but I'm okay don't worry." You say it as sweetly as you can but it inevitably falls on deaf ears.

"Xiao, what do you mean you didn't save me? Of course you did." You begin your long lecture for how could he not realise without him you would've died several times over?

"I know what you're thinking right now Xiao, and I'm telling you now, stop it. You saved me back there. Because of your fast thinking, he couldn't do..." You feel it... the cackling sensation, the fizzing sound. You whimper involuntarily and Xiao tenses uncomfortably. He wants nothing more than to embrace you, to make you feel safe again, the anger seething under his skin right now isn't going to help anything and he knows that, but by archons he can't help it.

Despite the terrifying images coming back into memory you continue.

"He couldn't do what he planned, which would've resulted in both of us dying... you left to get help didn't you?" You look at him expectantly.

His face turns away but he nods ever so slightly anyway, answering your question.

"You played it smart Xiao, and because of that I'm safe. I'm here. I'm breathing. I'm... still able to see you." You add truthfully at the end which causes another blush to flush against his face.

You giggle uncontrollably at his reaction. To which he grunts at, but you see it, that small smile creep onto his face.

You feel yourself relaxing finally again. His presence always has this effect on you. Making you feel so warm and safe, so happy.

But it ends when he finally moves closer without clouded thought this time. His hand comes out, faltering in its movement slightly before he forces himself to follow through.

Gently stroking your cheek now, it's different to when that vile Harbinger touched you. You feel the affection; the care and love.

Trying to get his words and emotions across through such a complicated action to himself he opts in resting his forehead against your own. Both your eyes closing.

"You had me so worried..." He finally speaks out.

You sighed gently in response.

"Why didn't you call me sooner?" He asks out, and it sounds so pained that it hurts you. For its true... why didn't you call him sooner?

"I... I didn't wanna put you in danger." You find yourself voicing your thoughts aloud before you could give a second thought.

"Y/N..." He says it in a tone that has your eyes opening and you're suddenly lost for breath when your eyes are met with his glowing back at you.

"I gave you the right to call me for that reason alone, for to me, you're worth throwing my life into danger over." He confesses it with a blush apparent the whole time. Which makes you unable to hold back your own blush.

"Next time... don't wait so long okay? If... if something like this ever happens again, please..." he means every word. So you can't lie to him.

"I... I'll try too..." You whimper softly back to him and he let's his thumb rub against your cheek lovingly, unknowingly.

You were a dear friend to him, maybe more, but for now, the only thing that matters is keeping you safe.

You giggle as a thought brushes across you. To lighten the mood you joke.

"I feel I held my own back there pretty good, for a visionless person after all." You mused playfully.

The look he gives you makes you suddenly feel tense though for he lifts back up and smirks at you.

"Visionless?" He questions in a playful tone, something you were definitely not use to, but savoured the odd moments they came about.

Your brow raises in confusion and he grins wider as he pulls something out from his pocket and chucks it at you.

Catching it on reflex your hands encase around the item and you look up at him.

"What?" You question back at him and he merely crosses him arms awaiting your reaction to what's in your hands.

Glancing down you open up your hands, your eyes widen, your heart beating fast again. A vision... an anemo vision... in your hands...

"It appeared beside you when you passed out. While in my arms. Just as I went to bring you back here, Ganyu ordered me to fix you and Zhongli said he was going to start looking into that Harbinger as he has connections that will get him answers." He began and while he explained you caressed the item in your hands, still filled with disbelief that you'd been granted one...

"It appeared upon your chest Y/N. Right above your heart." He spoke with such absolute surety.

"Anemo, the Archon of that element stands for freedom Y/N. The right to make your own choice. Something you did during that horrific ordeal must've spoken to the Archon as he watched over." Xiao spoke like he was guessing, but unknowingly to you, he knew very well why it had been given to you, for not that you'd ever know, but he was more well acquainted with the Anemo Archon than he led on.

"I... I... ha-..." You couldn't speak anymore and he simply chuckled.

He leant back into you and caressed your cheek before stroking your hair.

"Rest Y/N. You need it. I'll check on you shortly okay?" He said before disappearing, allowing no room for protest from you.

You let the vision rest beside you, on your bedside table, still in shock. Your mind going into overdrive now.

One thing was for sure as sleep slowly claimed you that night.

You were gonna be much more prepared the next time that Harbinger showed up.

Xiao would make sure of it.

See its not so bad lmao, I made it go all fluffy in the end! So it's more angst... with fluff and happy ending? I dunno. I just had the earge to write about Xiao because his banner has just been out in the game. So I'm sorry for the random xiao post but meh, I take any opportunity to write when I can now because my brain is so lazy most days. Hope you enjoyed it a bit atleast! - Mod Diluc

[eldritch-spouse]

🌼Hi Pinnie, so I read your post about the Admin dying (having his soul erased? I'm not sure how to refer) I like anguish sometimes but I'm extremely sentimental and I admit I like happy endings

So, I know it wouldn't be possible but supposing that Krulu hasn't erased it managed to "erase the Admin's soul" just kept it very far away in the bottom of the shell or rather, he erased it but somehow Admin has come back to life?

As if the Admin just woke up from a long and confused dream. Something like that, with the reaction of the Clergy (with Krulu too, but I don't think I need to put that)

It's ok if you don't want or can't write about it, and sorry for any English mistakes, google translator is messing up everything I write

Kisses from Brazil 💕💕💕🌼

I think the only plausible way that Krulu would commit a mistake while performing the death of self would be if such was done in a wrathful stupor. If you had truly done something to test his wits and forced him into a state of such mind-numbing rage that he didn't bother to iron out his treatment.

And fairy, I'm so very sorry to betray you like this, what if Admin did wake up... But wrong?

Finally, after months of darkness, months of faintly feeling your limbs move but never hearing anything, never thinking anything, as if you had been trapped in perpetual light slumber- You're finally able to see the world around you again, walk in your own skin, breathe with your previously static lungs. You are reborn, but you are not the same.

Some part of you did get erased. A core element of your soul. You are no longer the person you used to be, and such is seen whenever someone focuses on your behavior.

Your passion for the hobbies you once harbored is nonexistent, you seem uninterested in most things, capable of standing stock still for extended periods of time without issue, as if on standby. There are holes in your memory, sometimes you'll forget one of your coworkers' names and they'll die inside. You don't react to inside jokes, you don't bother to socialize with them unless directly pushed to, you don't even seem to be able to take care of yourself beyond basic hygiene.

But most of all, you're scared of sleeping. Because the small part of your identity that did survive the process is forever tainted by the primal terror of forced slumber, of helplessness, complete involuntary shutdown. You only ever catch tiny winks of sleep, always waking up with a startled scream or jump, clutching your own limbs in self-soothing gestures to prove to yourself that this is real, that you're still alive.

All their efforts to fix you seem like they do nothing but agitate you, sadden you. Because even if you can't tell what's different about yourself, even when they show you videos and photos of your previous lively person, you can clearly see the disappointment in their eyes, the pain, the loss. Sure you're alive, but you're not the Admin they knew, you're not the one they fell in love with.

You're a husk.

And that kills you inside more than they can imagine.

Krulu is arguably the one that suffers the most. Sometimes he ponders if he should really finish the job. You're living a mockery of a life, a parody of Admin's person. He can't love you the same way he did because the person he destroyed will never come back. You're a fragment, he broke the other pieces. At the same time that he knows it's not really you, the higher also can't let go- He's too selfish. Even if your eyes don't hold the determination and love they used to, even if you say you love him but it feels like a plea for your life, even when you cower and scream internally at his touch, when your mind is frigid and devoid of thought entirely...

He can't let go.

You'll never disobey again. But was the price really worth it?

[shelby-love]

HANK VOIGHT

Dating the Big Boss.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): mentions of r*pe and p*dophilia (it's a tough case)

Author's note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Especially since everyone is a lot older so I could play with maturity a little. Hope you enjoyed and sorry for the long wait! I'm just starting to get back to writing.

~

"What's up with him?" Erin whispered when she saw Voight barge into the unit's personal quarters. Hank didn't look at any of them as he strode into his office with a frown on his face.

He was angry, that's for sure.

Still hot on his tail, your senior detective self arrived right on que with him. Every pair of eyes was on you, knowing that you were the only one who had magic to calm him. You waved your hands, dismissing their burning questions all at once. You just crossed your fingers for them all to see and walked into your lover's office without knocking.

"Hank let's talk about this," You approached him carefully.

"There's nothing to talk about here Y/N."

"Yes, there is." You sat at the edge of his desk casually, although your heart was still racing upon hearing the news delivered to you this morning. "We have a serial rapist and pedophile out there. It's okay to be affected by it honey."

"Well I don't have any leads on this case," He told you strictly, although the anxiety was visible on his shoulders. He had his back turned to you and face focused on the city in front of him. The wheels turning and working in his brain were practically visible for the whole world to see.

"Then maybe we should look into our contacts and see who can help us," You proposed quietly. "This is far from over Hank. We can still turn this around."

You could see him nod, which instantly calmed you down. "Come here."

He, as surprising as it may sound, listened to your words, and walked over to your arms.

He placed his rough hands on your thighs while you ran your hands over his arms soothingly. Eventually your cold hands grasped his face as you gave him a soft look, "Do you want me to brief the team?"

"Thank you," You giggled, still not used to those words leaving his mouth.

The two of you shared a kiss before you left him alone with his thoughts to brief the team. Upon joining them you felt tension rise again, it made you remember what you were meant to do at that moment. "Is he alright?" Erin asked you quietly. You only managed to nod your head before ushering her to her seat.

Then you took a stand in front of them, a file filled with gore pictures secure in your hand. "A few days ago we found a female that was beaten, raped and murdered just outside the Riverwalk area. She was found in a dumpster just outside the Belle Hotel. Roughly 9 years old and unfortunately not the only case."

You spoke with authority that matched Voight's to a certain level. As a senior to all of them it was your job to deliver the details loud and clear. "There have been a few more cases similar to this one. Brody Thompson declared as missing just over a week ago was found two days ago in an area like this one. His left pinky was cut of just like the first victim's..." You placed a picture of a little boy on the board.

"Same MO?" Erin asked, scribbling things vigorously into her notepad. You nodded sadly.

"Are all of the victims children?" Burgess asked from the other side of the room. When you bobbed your head to her in confirmation you could practically see the heartbreak that struck her.

"We believe that we're dealing with a serial rapist and pedophile." You sighed.

"The MO is unique, and it doesn't look like he's been very careful with where he dumps the bodies," Jay notes. "It should be easy to find him since he's bound to make a mistake."

"That's where it gets tricky," You tell him, appreciating his quickness in noticing the details. "These are only cases reported in Chicago within the last few weeks. If we expand the search, which we did, there are dozens of other reported cases all around Ohio, Virginia, Rhode Island and lastly… New York."

A cool cloak of silence fell over the room once you've finished marking the spots. "Some date back to 10 years so we're looking for someone in his early to mid-forties. Maybe even older. Virginia State Police was only able to give us cases within the last 5 years, and we've hit four matches so far."

"Why are they handing the case to us? NYPD should be able to handle this." It was Alvin who had asked that question to which you opened your mouth to answer immediately.

But Hank, your boyfriend and partner, was quicker.

"Because we're the most qualified to do it," He explained, voice booming across the room. He joined your side and placed his hand on your hip; it was that after all, only the members of this very unit knew about you two. "Now, I've pulled out some old contacts from New York. They should be arriving here on the first jet they get their hands on. Until then I want you guys everywhere."

When his gaze slid to yours a twinkle of determination shone within his irises, "Let's get this son of a bitch."

***

"Sargent Benson," you greet the woman that just descended the stairs of the jet. The only people on the tarmac are the two of you and the officers you brought here. "Thank you for coming on a such short notice."

"Voight sounded stressed when he called. Is he alright?" She asked you quietly, matching your footing and walking toward the black SUV next to you.

You shook your head, "This case has been really hard on us is all. It's not every day we have cases like this one."

"Well, our job isn't pretty." She agreed. "Rape cases are already hard on their own."

"But when it's kids…"

"Do you have kids, detective?"

"None that are my own."

"Then I guess you're lucky."

"I suppose so."

***

The drive back to the district wasn't all that comfortable. Benson carried an air of importance around her that would get some rookies sweating with nerves.

Decades in this line of work showed just how good of a match you were for her.

"Hey Trudy," You greeted your friend in passing. Benson was hot on your heels as you lead her upstairs.

Upon reaching your destination you felt her walk straight pass you into Hank's arms. She brushed her hand against the lapels of his jackets when she asked him how he was doing. You felt your chest rise with jealousy but that diminished quickly when you saw him lead her to his office.

"You're not seeing that?"

"Seeing what Jay?"

The younger man narrowed his eyes at you, "She's obviously into him."

You sent him a glare. "We're not kids Jay, we're adults that lived long enough to see what's worthy being petty about and what's not."

"If you say so."

You rolled your eyes, but still went to retrieve your man, nevertheless.

***

You knocked twice before Voight let you in. "Sorry detective, this is a private conversation."

It was Benson who had told you this. You fought an eyebrow that wanted to rise.

"Y/N runs this unit as much as I do," Your boyfriend interfered. "She can stay."

You smiled, that not being able to suppress. "What do you have?"

"A possible location," She told you, still eerie about you being there.

You perked your eyes at that, taking your usual seat in Voight's office. Hank came to stand behind your chair, hands on the back of it. Olivia eyed you quietly and came to retrieve some papers. With her back turned to you both you turned your head, eyes travelling to Voight. Silently, you asked about what was going on. He only shook his head and pressed his hand against your shoulder, rubbing it in comfort.

Olivia saw the interaction and raised her brow.

***

You held your M16 in your hands securely. Officers were bustling all around you, greeting you in passing. The house in front of you looked like a fortress having god knows what protecting it. "We don't go in by force. There are still kids inside."

While the members of your unit nodded in agreement, a few voiced their distaste.

"We go in now. Cut off his ability to retaliate."

"I understand Olivia, but-"

"Sergeant."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm your sergeant. Let's keep it that way."

You gritted your teeth, seemingly offended by the fact that she had used the chain of command to put you in your place.

"My sergeant is Voight. I answer only to him," You corrected her. "I just want those kids to come out of there alive, and that's not going to be possible if we barge in. He'll panic. Kill them instantly."

"Why don't you go in then?" She proposed. "Scope and give us inside information so we can work our way around it. You find the kids and let us do the rest."

You thought about it. "I need –"

"Nothing." Your sergeant appeared by your side, eyes hard and body as still as a rock. Unlike Benson, you could see his anger. You almost reached out to calm him. "You're not doing it."

"This could be our shot." You told him.

He only shook his head, "Trust me it's not. A word, sergeant?"

She nodded and followed him.

You watched as the distance became bigger.

Jay and Adam came to stand next to you, Adam at your right side and Jay at your left.

"Holy hell." Adam muttered.

"She almost got you killed." Jay commented after him.

"Holy hell indeed guys."

***

"Hank I'm trying to do right by these kids!"

"The hell you are," Hank outright yelled at her. As the only person at the scene that had guts to stand up to her, he took the chance to put her in her place. "The way I see it you want Y/N in direct danger with no back up."

She stayed silent.

"You don't get to boss around my unit. Especially not my most trusted detective."

"Oh, come on Hank." She sighed, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"You're here to assist. The case is still mine so don't get ahead of yourself."

And with that, he left her to be.

"We're waiting for him. SWAT is on standby."

You smiled gratefully at him before mouthing a thank you.

***

"You did great today," You complimented him, smiling from ear to ear. All the children that went missing within the last few weeks have been found alive. Wounded yes, but alive. And the man was, much to your satisfaction, shot dead when he tried to run. By none other than yourself. Being able to put down a monster like him brought you satisfaction.

It brought Hank pride too.

He pulled you in by the hip and rested your back against the wall. Chicago was lightly lit up outside, bringing peaceful atmosphere to the district. Your fingers brushed against his rigid jawline; eyes locked with his.

Kisses between you two were shared ever so often at work. While you would both usually leave to the privacy of your home, today was a day you both needed reassurances immediately.

Your lips were pressed together and moving in a way possible for only people with experience.

When someone opened the door without knocking, you pushed him away in fright. Hank didn't even stumble as he narrowed his eyes at the person who had intruded.

"Sergeant Benson?!" You shrieked, cheeks flushing a bright red.

"It all makes sense now." She mused.

MASTERLIST

[aph-mable]

Okay it's only been a few minutes but i already want to add more do here is part 2!

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When Cassandra knocked three times on the door she was ready for her brink house of a cousin to answer, this was why she brought her wife Lily along and her twin brother Jordan as backup. They were told to bring Jackie, alive, to see good old Boss Vinnie.

When he found out Jack had returned he was silent, too silent.

The last time anyone even saw Jack he had left everyone with a sour taste in their mouth... that might also be because as a deal to leave and not be hunted by police or by any mob members he had shot a rival member in the back of the head, right in front of the whole Fenton clan just to make his point clear... no one commented on how badly Jackie was shaking when he left.

So sue her if even after nearly 20 or so years later, hearing the fact he was back in Gotham, permanently from the sounds of it, she wanted to have backup in case things got ugly.

What Cassandra didn't expect was this; a teenager who barely looked 15 opened the door, having the same family traits of black hair and blue eyes, yet something was off, something was wrong, this teen, no this child, looked too small like he was taking up so little space he could just dissappear, too pale, his eyes wide and staring right into their souls and she swore she saw a flash of unearthly green as she stared down at him.

The only thing that broke the silence was a smaller voice from behind the teen, coming from a maybe 6 to 7 year old girl with the very same traits, yet she seemed much more alive as she yelled out.

"Hey Danny, who's at the door? If it's Tommy again tell him I'll break his foot next time if he tries taking my toys again!"

This finally snapped the boy, Danny out of his trance as he answered back to the younger.

"It's not Tommy... Ellie, can you go get Dad?"

Danny sounded so calm, like he didn't even flinch since seeing the weapons they were holding, crap right they still had their weapons out.

Before Cassandra could say or do anything the door was slammed in their face, the sounds of machines blocking the doorway as the three adults stood frozen, trying to blink away their confusion and what they just saw.

________________________________________

Danny was clinging to Ellie and trying to stand in front of Jazz as their dad ready his own Fenton Gun to stung, yet Jazz was having none of it amd made sure both her little siblings were behind her.

Their dad made sure Vlad and Maddie were on standby as well as he used his tablet to see who was outside their door, threatening his kids with weapons no less!

Yet, Jack freezes when he finally see who was still standing confused outside their door and weapons away or at the side.

Almost like a 180 he takes off the metal barricade and swings open the door, only to pull the black haired man and woman into a bear hug, the blonde moving fast enough to doge just in time.

"Cassy! JJ! Oh man I'm glad to see you both, it's been forever since I last saw you two!" As he gets them into the biggest bear hug the family has ever seen both individuals drop their weapons onto the ground, mumbling 'we missed you too' or 'get the hell off me you overgrown gorilla!'.

Everyone stands confused and glancing at each other as Jack, still holding them both, turns around with a big smile, it looked between actual joy but a bit of anger too.

"Everyone meet my cousins, Cassandra and Jordan! Oh man, the stories to tell about our childhood together, am I right?"

Everyone could almost hear Jack squeezing them tighter before he hazardly threw them onto the couch, making sure they stay put as he motions the kids to be closer to Mom and Vlad.

As his cousins were trying to regain their breath the blonde had tried to sneak up with the gun, yet Danny wasn't having any of it so he shot a quick ecto blast to make her drop it just in time for Jack to turn around and loom over the poor lady.

She was quickly sitting awkwardly between Jordan and Cassandra while their dad insisted they tried some of Maddies famous fudge.

______________________________________

It took almost 10 minutes of awkwardness and tension before everyone felt like they could calm down.

Throughout this time Jack was trying to the 'kill them with kindness' tactic, and so far it very least got the three would be attackers to sit still and nibble at the corners of the food they were given.

Jack was sitting across from them, still smiling, and also blocking the TV which meant Danny and Ellie couldn't get back to their game, right when Danny was about to win too.

During this whole time Jack did try to make his cousins talk, yet the most they got out of them was that the blonde, Lily, was Cassy's wife and that they heard Jack was back in town.

Wanting to break the werid silence and having the most experience with lighting up the mood while being threatened, Danny moved closer, keeping in sight of every adult as he leaned on the couches arm, leaning a bit towards Jordan.

"Sooo.. know any embarrassing stories about my dad?"

"Danny!" Both mom and Jazz yelled, which made the teen grin.

"What? If these guys really are dads cousins then they got to know at least something funny about dad's past, like come on, when will we ever get this chance again?" Danny shrugged, now seeing his new family members become less tense.

Next up was Ellie on the otherside, like the little kid she was she followed Danny's lead, this time getting up in Cassy's face.

"Do you have candy? Also what's your favorite color? Are thoes suits your uniforms or are you going to a party later? Can you actually eat lead or is that just in movies?"

Ellie was definitely playing a bit far into the overly curious kid, but she was actually curious about most of the stuff she asked. Fully planning to be annoying and getting way to comfortable the two kids were planning to keep this up until their dad stepped in, holding both kids in his strong arms.

Secretly making both Jordan and Cassy smile as the see their overly lumbering cousin trying to rangle his children like a papa bear.

"I'm sorry about that, these two definitely got my curiosity about the world."

"It's all good Jackie, as for your questions. Yes I have tons of embarrassing and funny stories about your dad, pictures too. No candy sorry, we don't carry any. Mine is lime green. We are wearing suits because we have some um.. business with your dad. And eating lead is dangerous so don't do that kiddos." Jordan happily answered each question with his own shot eating grin, all while getting stared down by his twin sister. If they were going to be stuck here might as well have fun right?

Jordan decided to egg the young kiddos on a little more.

"Want to know how I got this scar?" He asked pointing to his face, Danny nodded meekly while Ellie was squirming in Jack's arms. "Heck yeah I do!".

Leaning back and stretching out his arms on the back of the couch he contuined.

"Well you see me and Jackie were what, 12 and 13 at the time, we thought it was a good idea to try and jump some barbed wire to get a sneak peek into one of the latest gun dealings between Uncle Vinne and his secert clients. Long story short, we almost got caught, while trying to jump back over Javk lost his footing and yanked me down with him, making me cut my face on the wire. Had to wear bandages for a week after that." Jordan bragged.

"I thought you got that scar because you thought it was a good idea to fight with rusty leaf rakes while drunk." Cassy cut in with an unimpressed quip, making her brother blush in embarrassment.

Tonight was going to be fun.

Jack Fenton is From Gotham, a Headcannon

CstSo, Jack Fenton, Big, caring, Dad Shaped Individual who cares about Family and his Profession and would more than likely choose family if things went Funky. The Guy who has ran through multiple walls and is capable of fighting Ecto beings BARE FISTED and winning. This guy, who just looks at the mayhem around him and goes ���Ah, a peaceful day.” while Maddie is losing her entire god damned mind. You can only really get that sort of attitude about chaos in a few places, and I think Jack was born and raised in Gotham, and furthermore, I think his parents generation of Fentons lived in Crime Alley. 

The IDEAS this gives me, like in a reveal gone sideways with the GIW finding out Jack takes Danny and hides out in his childhood romping grounds and the people just go “Oh Hey, Jack’s back.” and they just melt into the underbelly of Gotham, no one really the wiser and the GIW constantly losing vehicles and Agents to the meatgrinder that is Crime Alley.

Give Me Jack Fenton who has SEEN SOME SHIT, Give me Jack Fenton who has DONE SOME SHIT. This man knows how to do a lot of things and the legality therein can get very Sketchy. Then give us the glory and horror of Gothamites slowly emigrating too/immigrating from Amity Park and it’s just like, That Explains A LOT.

I ran away with this, I shall now tag folks who I think would like this.

@stealingyourbones

@captain-krow-drozdov

[the-broken-truth]

The Strings That Bind Us ~ The Lord Meeting

Summary: Mother Miranda called a Surprise Lord Meeting and is insistent that Vulcan attends. What could she want?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Vulcan

[2 Months After The Village Trip] [Vulcan's been working for Donna for 3 Months Now]

"Are you certain that you want to leave that male with Donna, Mother Miranda? I could find a better use for him in House Dimitrescu." Alcina said as she took a puff from her long cigarette.

"Must you start with this again, Alcina?" Heisenberg exhaled "Miranda gave the human to Donna because of their obvious history...as much as I wish she didn't; that man has the makings of an Alpha in his blood."

"Any man that would put down your rabid dogs is worthy enough to continue the Dimitrescu Bloodline. I've been seeing him around the village - sometimes with Donna and that...doll of hers. Kinda unfair that my little sister gets to have that interesting specimen to herself." Alcina pouted in her chair as she took another puff of her cancer stick.

Miranda was quiet for the most part while waiting for Donna - the dollmaker was usually the second one here (The first being Moreau). The sound of footsteps made everyone look at the opening to see The Dollmaker make her appearance and she wasn't alone - Vulcan stood there in his House Beneviento Suit with a smile on his face, Donna's arm laced in his like a gentleman leading a lady, and Angie perched on his shoulder as if she was his companion instead of Donna's. The Lords and Village Leader watched as Vulcan led Donna to herself and waited for the dollmaker to seat before he moved to stand behind her to the right of her chair, standing tall, his hands behind his back - Angie still on his shoulder.

"Now that we are all present - we can begin the meeting." Mother Miranda began as she looked at her 'children'.

Broken Truth: #FuckMotherMirandaShe'sABitch.

"What is the reason for this meeting, Mother Miranda? You didn't specify in your call to us." Donna asked as she looked at her adopted mother.

"The reason I didn't specify was that this meeting is about you and...your male." Miranda said - making Donna and Vulcan's eyebrows raise.

"Us?" The both of them said.

"Yes, Child. Tell us - what exactly does this 'Vulcan' do for House Beneviento? Is he truly as well of as servant as you claim?" Miranda said as she looked in Vulcan's direction - who just looked into her eyes without any kind of fear but there was respect present in his eyes; was it because she was Donna's Mother or the Leader of the Village? That was unknown to her.

"Vulcan is an incredible addition to House Beneviento - he cleans very well, the meals he cooks are unlike anything I have ever tasted; but then again, he did travel all over the world and picked up some interesting recipes. He is always there for me rather I need something or if I just need someone to talk to; what's more, he gets along with Angie very well and that makes me very happy." Donna said as she looked at the doll on Vulcan's shoulder, who nodded to her creator.

"She's got a point..." Moreau spoke but was soon cut off.

"Shut up, no one asked you, freak." Karl said.

"That was impolite, Lord Heisenberg." Vulcan's voice spoke up, making everyone look at him.

"What did you say?" Karl asked.

"I said that was impolite - impolite and uncalled for. Lord Moreau has just as much right to speak as you do; besides, he is your brother, you should be kinder to him." Vulcan said as he glared at Vulcan, who glared at him back.

"Just who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do? You're just a servant - a nobody - and that freak isn't my brother, nor is Lady Super-Sized Bitch or that Ugly Ass Psycho Doll!" That made Vulcan's eyes widen and his fists clench.

"Take that back...right now." The amber-eyed man growled out.

"What?" Karl scoffed.

"I don't care what you say about me, but you will not disrespect my lady or Angie; Lord or not. Take it back, now, Karl Heisenberg." Vulcan growled even more - his fists clenching and eyes seem to be getting darker - they were almost blood red. Miranda's eyes seem to widen as it looked like there was a golden glow coming from under the sleeve of Vulcan's right forearm.

'What is he?' She wondered.

"That's enough, Vulcan." Donna spoke out, making Vulcan look at her.

"But Lady Beneviento, he..." Donna raised her hand to silence him.

"Please, Vulcan. It's quite alright." Donna said again in her soft voice.

"If that is what you wish, Lady Beneviento." Vulcan went back to standby mode.

"It is." Donna confirmed.

"Now that is over... Donna." Miranda spoke.

"Yes, Mother?" Donna asked as she looked in her mother's direction.

"I wish to have a House Dinner - with House Beneviento as the hosting house. I want to see just what it is that your male could do." Miranda said as she looked at Vulcan.

"I'd be honored to show you my skill, Madam Miranda." Vulcan said with a bow of his head.

"Obedient, Strong, Good-Looking, Can Cook, Clean, & Submissive without argument - Such an interesting specimen you have, Donna. Little sister, are you sure you wouldn't mind lending him to me for a year?" Alcina said as she looked Vulcan up and down.

"Alcina, you are not getting Vulcan so find another male to continue House Dimitrescu with." Donna almost snarled at her sister.

"Come now, you can't part with him for one year?" Alcina pouted.

"No. Now stop asking." Donna said. "Is that all, Mother Miranda?" Donna asked as she rose to her feet.

"Yes - the House Dinner will be in one week; I look forward to seeing what it is he can do. Lords dismissed." Miranda said. Donna took Vulcan's arm and he led Donna and Angie out of the room, ignoring the looks of the other Lords and Village Leader.

'Just what are you, Vulcan?' Miranda asked herself.

[Meanwhile - Back At House Beneviento]

"A Lord Dinner? This is going to be troublesome." Donna said as she sat at the table, Angie in her lap to make her feel better.

"What's so wrong with a Lord Dinner?" Vulcan asked as he placed down a cup of tea with some lemon cake squares before Donna.

"Mother Miranda uses Lord Dinners to make sure all is right but I sometimes think she uses it to snoop on our lives. Last time, we had a Lord Dinner at Castle Dimitrescu because of Alcina's Daughters - it was not pleasant." Donna said as she removed her veil and placed it on the table.

Vulcan looked at his lady's face with concern when he saw just how worried she was about this Lord Dinner.

"Then, I'll make this a pleasant Lord Dinner but before I get started, I want to know - do you trust me to go out on my own for a while tomorrow?" Vulcan asked, Donna looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Go out? Just what are you planning?" Donna asked.

"If I want this Lord Dinner to be as grand as I wish it to be - I need to know what is it the other Lords and Madam Miranda prefer. I'm going to go to each of their locations and ask them then go shopping for the right things." Vulcan explained.

"What? No, that's not a good idea, Vulcan. You know Alcina wants you - she'll try to seduce you into coming to Castle Dimitrescu." Donna began.

"I would never turn away from you for her or another, Donna; you know that. I've been here for 3 months, you can trust me." Vulcan said as he kneeled before Donna as she sat in her chair and gathered her hand in his.

"I do trust you, it's the other lords - Karl wants to join him... I don't know about Moreau, he's likely the only Lord I do trust out of all of them." Donna said as she looked down as their touching hands.

"Then I'm asking you to trust me - trust me to come back to you and know that I would never turn away from you, Donna. I've come too far to find you, now that I'm here and I serve you; I'm happy and I would never let you go like I had to when Mother Miranda took you away from me." He brought her hand to his lips. "Please, trust me to come back to you. Trust me to stay faithful to you and only you and Angie." Vulcan's words made her blush and look away before she took an exhale.

"Very well, Vulcan. I will trust you to do what you must to make this Lord Dinner a grand one just...please don't let them take you away from me."

"As long I draw breath, I shall return to you, Donna; believe that." Vulcan looked into her eye and leaned forward before placing a small kiss on her lips.

Donna's widened before she began to settle into the kiss her servant gave her, returning it and closed her eye to enjoy it. Once they broke apart for air, their foreheads touched as they looked into the windows of each other's souls...before their moment was ruined by a giggling doll.

"Does this mean I have a Father now?" Angie asked, making Mistress and Servant blush bright red.

"Angie!" Donna and Vulcan blushingly yelled at the doll; Angie got her giggles that night.

[highstwildflower]

Skinny Skinny

TW: eating disorder/ Anorexia. You are very beautiful just the way you are and worthy of love. Have a good day precious <3

The warm rays from the sun tingled the fragile skin on your leg as you laid in your bed. Slowly your body woke you up, already when your eyes open for the first time your heart ached. As if all sadness of the world rested in your heart. It had been like this for a long time, every single day. Your life so unbearable that sleeping was the only escape, so you slept. A lot. In your sleep you had it all, the perfect body, the perfect education, the perfect job, the perfect home and most importantly the perfect man. Him. But than you woke up to real life. Your life was empty and meaningless you thought to yourself. Slowly realizing that you weren't able to fall back asleep you got out of the bed. Bare feet making their way to the bathroom to relive yourself. Steady gaze upon the floor, ensuring that you avoided the mirror, your own reflection the biggest enemy. Picking at the strong band around your wrists you did your business before making your way to your kitchen. All you needed was some what. That was all the body really needed. Eagerly you gulped down the big glass of water, feeling the familiar feeling of content take over your body. Reaching for your phone you groaned as your realized today's date. Your anniversary. A little more pain felt your body, the idea of more pain filling your body felt impossible. The only thing you wanted to do was sleep, but you couldn't so the next best thing was the gym. Moving back to the bedroom you picked out black yoga pants and a black hoodie. Ensuring you were as hidden as possible. The last thing you wanted was attentive. You spent hours at the gym, everyday. Today was no different, the girl at the front desk offering you a polite nod as you entered the gym. Cardio being you go to, you went for a run. The wheezing feeling as air left your lungs faster than your heart could work the oxygen back was everything to you. You could run forever, or at least until the black dots began to dance infront of your eyes. Today it was extra hard for you to leave, the image of Ashton leaving you hunted you. "y/n we can't do this no more, you need help. You cannot give me what you don't have. Because you get so tired of you try to do that. When you forget about you and stop taking care of you. You become empty. With nothing to share. I can't do that to you" his words were printed into your brain. A broken record playing again and again. You had always been a thin girl, and one to take care of what you are as well as staying fit. But when Ashton had left you alone because of tour it had went downhill. You stepped on the scale the day after he left. A gasp had left your lips as the number had risen with 13 pounds. You mind played back all the beers you had shared, all the junk food sitting at you hips now. So you had gotten into the habit of weighting yourself everyday, and progress was made. You lost more than 13 pounds tho. Leaving you sickly skin. Ashton has left a beautiful curvy girl at home and came home to a boney fragile shadow of the woman he loved. Black in-sunken eyes had stared back at him as he told about tour life, no life left as your mind slowly was calculating how much running it would take for the cold beer to be out of your body again. He had tried for about a year, slowly encouraging you to eat some more. For a moment you saw it, you wanted to eat but you wanted to be thin. So you allowed your second face to win, the one who always told you how disgusting you were and how fat you were. The ridicules insane thing being that you adored larger body, found the beautiful. Naturally you had just always been thin, but you also enjoyed filling your body with healthy nutrients. He had left you when he felt as if he was doing more harm to you than good. He made sure that the other boys cheeked up on you, the weekly messages being like salt in your wounds slowly you had stopped answering. Wanting to break from everything. Ashton wasn't to blame for any of this. Maybe you heartbreak but you weren't even sure that he was to blame for that. You were both two halo trying to make a whole, both

observed with your self image. Both haunted by being nothing and everything at the same time. You missed him, you really did. But maybe he was right, that is what you had chosen to believe at least. Breaking yourself from your thoughts you were confused as you saw a black Range Rover in your driveway. You weren't expecting any guest and you sure as hell did not want any guests. Slowly making your way to the house, you saw his brown curls before anything else. You didn't stand a change as his eyes meet yours. The ground grumbled beneath you, crying you felt to your knees. How embarrassing but you just couldn't stand it, not today. "y/n honey! Are you ok?" His voice was concerned but you put out a hand, indicating you need time and space but that you were ok. Surely you gained composure over yourself again and stood to meet him again. "Hi what's up" it was way to casual for the welcomest you just had offered him. Way to sluggish for the man whom you lived with every fiber in your body. Pushing beside him to unlock the door you left him plenty of time to answer, his strong voice breaking you apart slowly "I just wanted to swing by, make sure you were good" mentally you were figuring out how to make him run away, but you were also contemplating how to make him stay forever. "I can see that you aren't doing to well y/n. I'm worried" he words were like a slap. You were doing excellent, loosing more weight than ever before while feeling heavier that every before- everybody dream right? "You lack of response isn't going to push me away y/n. I thought about it a lot before I came today, and I still standby what I said." You looked dumbfounded at him, did he really come all this way just to rub it in? The anger began to boil inside you along side the strong overwhelming feeling of sadness "what the fuck do you mean Ashton!?" Your anger took him back, his eyes a little more alert now" I'm here for you no matter what. I'm here as a friend until you are ready to be lovers again" his words hit you like a truck, failing at standing tall you collapsed into his strong arms as uncontrollable sobs left your mouth. He tried to collect his beautiful broken girl in his arms, so desperately wanting to put her back together. But this was beyond him, as it was beyond you. In agreement you went to treatment, as you had almost finished Ashton admitted himself to another treatment center. Both of you struggling with the balance of love and mental health. But as of right now you as individuals were more important, and every day the strong vow of friendship healed your both as you tried to break the mean cycle of skinny skinny thoughts.

[glacierruler]

I will not be naming any of the blogs in this. iykyk.

Yes, Thomas used AI in a thumbnail. Yes he was (rightfully) called out for it. It appears he changed the AI thumbnail for another AI thumbnail, before eventually changing it out for a non-AI thumbnail. Thomas, as of starting the writing for this post, has not addressed the situation.

I'm going to be honest, I did not catch any of the AI thumbnails, because I'm personally really bad at telling when something is made from AI or not. As my friend pointed out, this could be the same for Thomas. He did not make the thumbnail, entrusting Lev to do it. I personally haven't watched the video, but it's about the election. Which means it's a stressful video, which, as my friend pointed out, stress makes mistakes more rampant.

So yes. It's bad that Thomas didn't catch the AI in the first thumbnail, but it's understandable.

As for the second thumbnail, it is reasonable to assume that Lev had made multiple thumbnails for Thomas to choose from (When I do art commissions I make multiple versions of the same image sometimes if I'm not sure what a client wants.) When Thomas was called out for the first thumbnail he Might Have Been panicking, and that was the second thumbnail he had on standby while he got someone else to make a thumbnail for the video. Because Youtube requires thumbnails for videos (or you can choose a usually unflattering part of the video with you in it), and he was (rightfully) getting slack for the AI thumbnail, he very well could have uploaded the other one as a way to calm things down before eventually changing it again once he got access to a non AI generated thumbnail.

To be clear. I am NOT saying that is 100% what happened. But I am saying it's something that could have happened. If Thomas didn't care about using AI, and didn't care about how it effects his fan base, then he wouldn't have changed it. Yes, he needs to address the situation, and yes, he needs to make a stance on where he stands on AI because of this.

Also, it is completely fine to be angry about this, to view this as more proof that he does not respect artists. But going around attacking others saying they're defending AI and using it as proof people will do anything for this creator when that is not what was happening in this case is not great :/

To be clear, I'm still leaving the fandom because of the AI incident. But based on what happened it is far from the worst thing in the world.

...

Just saying. When you attack and belittle someone's pov they probably aren't going to respond kindly. They're probably going to say some things they don't quite mean or even thoughts they'd rather keep quiet.

Also sometimes an issue is not as horrible as it's blown out to be. (Although it can still be someone's last straw on something, and it can still be something that should receive valid critique.)

And a reminder that a random tumblr user you enjoy is Not A Journalist. They can make credible claims, they might be right on most things. But they're still a random tumblr user and you still need to fact check before just trusting them on something.