#what do you mean I'm not good enough yet to draw absolutely everything from memory

[blanketempress]

edgy necromancy time

[acid-ixx]

Dear author,

I love your batfam series SO MUCH. I like the way you describe the feelings, how you use the words, how the depression of Y/N was shown, and the thinking of Batfam when they realize that Y/N had been heavily neglectful. Every time I read this series again, I still feel the hurtful of it and it actually makes me cry a lot T.T. And I love that feeling. And the series makes me want to draw, even though I’m not good at drawing.

The first panel, I draw Y/N in my thoughts ( sorry if you feel uncomfortable) and Conner. This one is inspired from a manga called “ Veil”.

The second one, I draw some scenes from chapter 3 (I tried to draw the ways Y/N calmed themselves down, but I couldn’t 😭).

From your series, I’ve thought about ABO au, where Y/N is a beta, they can’t be marked ; so the yanderes ( romantic one) are more yandere, because they know that Y/N never belong to anyone.

Last thing to say, I VERY VERY VERY LOVE your batfam series and this is one of the greatest fics of Batfam I’ve ever read. I also very admire your hardworking and your inspiration about this series. But I hope that you also stay healthy because I saw that you’re very productive ( how you can write so fast but still focus on the details TvT). No words can reveal the love in my heart to your series.

Sorry if I either bother you or my bad grammar ( English not my native language, this is also the first time I do this ). Thank you so much because spending your time reading this piece of mine. I just want to express my feelings and thoughts about your fic. Hope you have a good day!!!<333333

— masterlist !

a/n: the topic of a/b/o is written under this post. anyways, this comic panel is so absolutely brilliant and breathtaking omg... i love all the thoughts u have compiled here and i'm so sorry I wasn't able to reply to this quick enough 😭 but i appreciate this sm !! "even tho im not good at drawing" YET U SENT ME THIS !! i absolutely love everything about this don't say ur not good at drawing bec u are 😡

so like i said, don't be sorry if u draw the reader as female bec i portrayed them as gn so anyone can interpret them as any gender and it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all as long as i'm the one not being misgendered. anyways, veil is actually one of my fave mangas and if u ask me, i could say your relationship with conner is pretty much akin to that of veil's! which means conner is very touchy-feely with you and is uncaring of their status as a wayne and would rather... have you take his last name very soon, if you know what i mean hehe.

the second scene is absolutely heartbreaking even for me, especially the panel where your mom tries to comfort you by telling you it's all alright made my heart ache real badly because that's probably the last time you have experienced; the love of a parent that's soon taken away from you. your mom's last words would be reassurance, one that both comforts and disturbs you as the memory repeats itself over and over in you head like a broken record </3

and the abo au, for me personally (tho i never have written for it) is just going to threaten more angst with your family because not even your pack is willing to take you in and care for you. despite your hopes due to being a beta unlike your family who are comprised of strong alphas and resilient omegas, you are merely average in their eyes probably, average enough to be forgotten and discarded by a pack you had thought would take you in for you must be a misfit just like them.

yet despite the pain you had to endure for feeling unloved as a beta, it would also deepen your potential with conner as your love interest because although you could never be claimed by any past sweethearts, conner would always, and i mean always make a show that he loves you in a deeper, more symbolical way. he may not be able to mark you as your alpha, but a ring and an always protective hold on your waist paired with his scent and pheromones engraved into every piece of your clothing is enough to tell everyone to "fuck off, this one's mine."

and tysm for loving my fanfic 😭 even tho i have written it impulsively, look where it got now !! yes i am very productive but this is a mere product of my attention span and hyperfixations towards the dc storyline and no my health is very bad but trust me it's not from writing, it's more from me just being very ill every single day but im trying to take care of myself <33

[mwolf0epsilon]

There are Burnt Bridges to Rebuild

Summary: Geoduck makes a mess and Sponge realizes they might not be the only medically traumatized member of their batch. The outcome of both of these events might lead to some closure for the both of them.

[I felt like it was about time I addressed Geoduck's attempts to apologize to Sponge, and how hard it actually is for him to do so. In mini drabble form.of course.]

---

Ice cold dread threatens to choke out what little breath remains in his lungs when the look of absolute fury that greets him, stabs directly into his still very much racing heart. He knows it's them, because the angry tears and the absolute betrayal can mean only one thing: Geoduck has managed to screw this up almost immediately.

It had been an uphill battle, trying to reconnect with his batcher. The batcher he'd abandoned and left to be scorned when they'd needed help the most.

Geoduck had known earning forgiveness from Sponge would not be easy. He hadn't thought he deserved it to be easy. And yet they'd given him more than enough chances.

And he screwed it up. Hurt them all over again. Because he was too karking stupid to deal with his faulty brain. His gods damned face blindness...

"I... I'm so s-sorry..."

"I should have known this was too good to be true..." They hissed icily, the heat of their fury turning into a Sub-Zero burn that could rival Hoth's frigid winters. The tear tracks and snot making their face shiny and tacky. "I should have known this was all just another trick!"

"Sponge I... I didn't mean--"

"Conch put you up to this, didn't he? He knew I'd never go anywhere near him, so he karking... He fucken'... That sneaky bastard! You slimy asshole!" Sponge hadn't always had such a short fuse. They'd used to be so sweet when they were a cadet.

Geoduck is ashamed to admit he hadn't recognized when that part of them died.

He wonders if it had happened on the same day Jelly had marched on...

"It wasn't... I wasn't trying... I... Vee-Vee'ika..."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT! I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!" Sponge pushed him, hard. It made Geoduck stumble slightly. "I LET ALL OF YOU BE JUST LIKE YOU TOLD ME! I STOPPED CALLING, I DELETED YOUR COMM NUMBERS, I NEVER STEPPED FOOT IN 79'S SO I WOULDN'T KILL THE VIBE! WHY CAN'T ALL OF YOU JUST LIVE YOUR OWN LIVES AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE WHEN I DID EVERYTHING YOU ASKED OF ME?!"

"Vee... I... I didn't mean to... I..." He's a bad ori'vod. He's always been a bad ori'vod. He let his vod'ika suffer because he'd been so scared of his own stupid problem, and now he couldn't even fix it.

Because he couldn't recognize them. He couldn't recognize anyone. Everyone, including his vode, were strangers to him until they identified themselves properly. Until he could be sure they were who they claimed to be.

He was such a waste of meat.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to I swear! I was coming, but I couldn't find you! I couldn't find you! I can't ever find anyone!" He claws desperately at his scalp, tries to commit their face to memory but it never works. Something in the back of his head just tells him that's not his vod. That's not his general. Everyone is not who they seem until he can be sure they're not actually an imposter.

He claws and claws at his defective head, trying to get at his defective brain, and freezes when his hands are abruptly pulled away before he can break skin and draw blood.

Sponge is staring at him, a look of pure shock frozen on their face.

"What...?"

Had he spoken out loud? He couldn't tell being as he was in a bit of a state of panic at blowing his chances to be a good brother again. Geoduck supposes he's never told them about his plight.

".... My... My face blindness... I can't..." He's so ashamed of himself. Ashamed of his stupid little insignificant problem. "I tried... I tried memorizing everything that makes everyone unique. Their voices, the way the say things, the patterns of their paint, their haircuts... I... It never works. My... It never clicks. I get confused and think I'm wrong and that I'm talking to a stranger pretending to be them, and I get lost in crowds of strangers that I should know are really who they are and... I'm sorry! I wanted to fix things but I couldn't find you and I panicked!"

".... Gooey...? Gooey that's not... That doesn't." There's obvious worry in their eyes. Sponge isn't angry, they look scared. "When... When did this start happening?"

".... After... After that climbing exercise. During..." He gulps. "The one where I fell and got sent to medbay when we were still 4th growth cycle... I..."

"Gooey... Oh kark... Oh sith-spit that's..." Sponge looks absolutely scared, and that freaks him out a little. "Gooey that sounds like brain damage."

"W-whoa...?"

"Oh my god... You've. That sounds like... Gooey face blindness doesn't make you think everyone's a fake. You..." They're shaking and he's shaking and they're both terrified. "Gooey you need medical help immediately. You need... You need a scan. A brain scan. I... Kark..."

"Vee-Vee'ika I'm sorry..."

"Shut up! I'm... You're coming with me. I'm gonna... I'm gonna comm my superior officer. My... Ori'vod will know what to do, maybe, but that..." They're pulling him along towards the GAR headquarters. "That sounds like Capgras syndrome mixed with Prosopagnosia... I... I'm gonna kill that pretentious asshole for letting you walk around like this all on your own! Fucking Conch, does he know?!"

"I... Yeah...? He thinks it's funny when I get confused."

"I'm skinning him alive!"

Geoduck doesn't have the strength to argue. For once it's nice to actually hear someone other than him gripe about Conch's less than pleasant sense of humor. It's also nice to know that even if he messed up, maybe there's still a chance to make it up to Sponge one day.

He just hopes once they're done with him in the medbay, that they won't shut him out like they probably should. He'd done more than enough to deserve being hated.

[madfantasy]

Dear Blogging

Hope ur doing well🍀

When I realise my updates are futher apart in time, it makes me sad. I don't have much new to say, I am in the same trance following no time yet feeling every passing second. In progress that I can't feel because of how much I'm used to pain and nothingness. I am okay, finally had the brain power to make words today, the last months were exceptionally difficult as I mentioned the unrelenting near 50° heat. And for the majority of that time I spent it without any means to cool off, which periodically made me sick and kept me in bed too long. Even more bits of my teeth broke off, rendering me unable to smile or eat without jolts of pain. My unstable network provider topping off the misery.

Since I moved to my "sunny room" I couldn't use the net I waste money on for because of the weak signal, so I had not much sources of distractions or solace. Nothing separating me from the continuous good old times; living in absolute isolation. I don't think I have online connections anymore and wouldn't blame anyone for forgetting me. I'm sorry, I feel absolutely disconnected, I don't know what I want or what to do or how to dare be involved. And in all honesty, I am functioning on 1% energy spent on drawing..

I was trying to have a goal to compete that, to keep my faith up and have hope and project it. Wanting a red and black room was one, but I gave up on it because I didn't have enough work to afford it, and really the experience of buying stuff online only to find the advertised color was a lie, specially if its red was a huge waste of time and money. And my guardians fed up with me asking them to return things, ungraciously. I liked my room eventually

After prolonged periods of depression, I found myself longing for my traditional art, flicking through my old diary. I craved to return able to draw on paper again, and the few times I tried, memories, good and bad gushed through. Relived again how it was to draw in secret and to love things you are constantly told are not for you or called it not natural and be punished severely for.. just made me cry over how culture always just hurt for the sake of hurting and uses religion as a loose cape, mourning them using it to exclude while it was something aimed to be harmonious with all and they never focus on being actual good people over keeping appearances.. for the longest time making me wonder if something was actually wrong with me beyond just being different than them.. now there's plethora of mental things thanks to their abuse. Starting with my inability to look at people without feeling quick to panic discomfort. Making me see this isolation as they say, a "blessing in disguise ". I don't know how to take that as, tbh, I still to this day get nightmares of when I used to live in big houses with multiple families, or the endless schools I went to.

I started drawing on paper bit by bit. The minute I find myself overwhelmed I stop. With time I felt I can enjoy it again, and recalled all what passer through my mind as kid, how I fantasised of owning the chunkiest coloring tin or the thickest drawing paper. So decided to get sketchbooks and notebooks and try everything new, I didn't care

I didn't know where to start, so I got randomly selected sketchbook and one lockable journal, so I can hopefully write diary again like i used to. I show everything i get to them but already Guardians couldn't help themselves and flick though it, I didn't say anything but my inside automatically clinched and turned into an angry imp snatching to have it back, like i used to actually react when they searched my school things for doodles.

I changed the lock c:

I learned of the existence of more mechanical pencil sizes so I got every possible one, carefully not breaking my law of owning only red and black things, hehe. Also some essentials so my guardians won't comment on my spending ways. Like a tooth brush, and the best bonnet ever. I also got myself a backpack for my pen people to live in, for the longest time I wanted a shark backpack but this one just screamed Mani (it was cheaper 😝). As kid I had a red bag with snoopy's face on it, it was my literal safe zone that I carried it everywhere, pretended to travel in cardboard boxes with and had many garbage things stored in it that ment something dear to me, already that blissful feeling is regenerated when i wore it. And hopefully next month I get work to buy colors..

I got my eyes on those atm

(Also something funny, I can promise you I got the talk about devil worship from them for getting horns, and here's the thing; they know about the actual sketchy devil worship practices, its a common knowledge in our surroundings. To me, having red horns it felt Mani like, style euphoria, I love being a polite naughty gentlethem and that spoke of it clearly to me so I didn't care too much)

I also in my careless defiance rush, bought a shoulder- abaya that resembles more of a cloak, to me at least. To help dim my dysphoria even for the tiniest bit and maybe give me one point of courage to want to go out when possible. 'Cause the only thought i have when I'm out is absolute fear, or brain blanking out on me and i freeze in my place

I was stressed for so long that they might fight me on it because they never allowed me to wear but the cover ups of their choice from the dark ages, one I could not walk in or see where I was headed in (i actually wear glasses to see), but I presented it to them and I don't think they noticed.

Maybe now i can feel comfortable in it, throughout the years I never really adjusted to wearing it— having almost no occasion to leave the house 3/4 of my life. It was never something i felt connected to, been only a reminder of pure shame and embarrassment. From the very first day I started to cover my face at middle school, was forced to do that the day before, non of my guardians taught me how to wear it. And the minute it fell from my face thanks to my clumsy attempts at tying it, my face was welcomed with— not the fresh air and 4k sight clarity, but a slap that knocked me back into the car. Followed by an entire hysterical berating, calling me a sl*t and what have you, for everyone who was dropping their kids to see and hear.

I didnt know it at the time, but i was also mocked of how I wore it many times by my peers, while some took petty on me and dressed me themselves. I merely envied those foreign students who wore it just to follow the school rules and offed it the minute they got into their cars to leave. I still have no answer to what I truly want, and thats okay..

I forgot to mention how they can be super pricy, so I got the cheapest I could, resulting it being thick, strings jutting everywhere, way too big on me and all of its buttons fell. So I had to do some long hem shortenings and buttons sewing, I think I started to like it

I now just need someone to hold my hand and never let go, to take me to the hospital and hypothetically be my voice till mine return... manifesting

Oh and i did drew alot of snarry cuz it was my only cure during this time of dissociative routine, ofc endless of sketches that did not make it and 2 did, and still more to come hopefully when I continue to feel better

I wish you all the best in this world my dears, your burdens ease and your heart beats with your desires met , mani loves you ❤️‍🔥🍀🕊🙏

24.6.2022

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 10 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.3 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (09)

Next part (11) ->

A/N: This part was inspired on the song Treacherous by Taylor Swift

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Treacherous

You can't believe you let Billy convince you into this. These parties were never your thing. They usually happen during the week, and on the next day, you can see the effects on those who went. Today is Saturday, but even so.

Maybe it was Billy's intense stare, or how he smiled and caressed your cheek as he asked you to go with him... Or how he said he wouldn't go without you because there would be no point.

Sighing, you look at yourself in the mirror, blushing at the memories. Your hair is styled with some waves, and they flow down your shoulders. The dress you choose is tight, perfectly hugging your body. Not too tight though, as the dresses Stacy and her friends wear. It's decent and delicate, pink and black... And you wonder if Billy will like it.

“(Y/N), Billy is here!” Your mother yells and you sigh, fixing your hair and leaving the bathroom.

Once you put the high heels on, you take your purse and go downstairs. Billy is seated on the couch, but his eyes find you immediately, and he stands up. “Hey.” You mutter, walking over a very weird Billy. He has his mouth half-open, eyes scanning your body. “Have you lost something?” Trying to keep the sassy tone, you cross your arms, heat spreading through your cheeks.

“I just never saw you on a dress before and...” He sighs, eyes meeting yours and a smirk coming to his lips. “You're stunning.”

Biting your lip, you look down, taking in the leather jacket and the red shirt underneath, which has a lot of buttons left open. “You look good too.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair. “Shall we go?”

“Sure.” Nodding, you start walking to the front door.

“(Y/N).” Your mother calls, and when you turn around, she's standing by the kitchen door frame. “Be back by ten, alright?”

Silently, you nod before waving and walking out.

The ride to the party is filled with small talk. Billy keeps stealing glances, a small smile that never leaves his lips.

Once you get there, a house you don't even know who lives in, you raise your eyebrows as you walk in. The music is loud, but the people are louder. The place is crowded, and you wouldn't want to be the one to clean this place after.

“So, what do you think?” Billy asks, mouth close to your ear.

“It's very loud!” You tell him, and someone bumps on you, making your shoulder collapse on his chest.

Billy gives someone a hard stare before looking down at you. “Wanna dance?”

“Yeah.”

“Come.” He takes your hand, guiding you to the living room, which has the furniture all moved, creating an open space. There are a lot of people here already, but they move aside for Billy. A lot of eyes lay on you, but you ignore them. “I don't even know if you can dance, pretty girl.”

“Oh, I do.” Smirking at him, you wrap your arms around his neck, and start moving.

Billy raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed as his hands encircle your waist. You're very, very close, and you can feel all of his body. Your cheeks burn, the proximity making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. The heels do make you closer to his lips, but still, he'd have to bend down to kiss you.

Kissing Billy Hargrove. You never thought you'd want to do such thing.

But here you are now, dancing with him, spinning around and colliding your back against his chest as his arms hold you close, moving to the hectic beat. And it's perfect, amazing. Not because of the party, but because of him. You want to be like this forever, in his arms.

“You? Here?” The voice, very familiar breaks through your stupor, and you come back to Earth. Steve raises an eyebrow, purposely ignoring the man holding you. “I could never convince you to come to these parties. Not even when we were dating.”

Billy gets tense behind you, arms holding you a bit tighter. “Well, that was because I never had a good reason to come. Now I do.” Shrugging your shoulders, you gesture at Billy. “Where's your girl?”

“Bathroom.” He says, looking around. “There she is. Gotta go.” He steps away, but stops suddenly, eyes focusing on Billy for the first time. “You try anything with her I–”

“Steve, go.” Cutting him off, you speak up. “I'll be alright, Billy treats me well.”

“He better do.” With one last angry stare, Steve walks away, and you breathe out, relieved.

“I'll get you something to drink,” Billy says, letting go of you. You turn around, giving him a look. “A soda. Just soda.” Smiling, he raises both hands in defeat. “I know you well, pretty girl.”

“Alright. I'll check the backyard.”

“I'll meet you there,” Billy says and you nod, starting to make your way through the people.

The backyard isn't empty, but it's not crowded as the house is. Blame it on the cold. It's freezing, and you wish you had brought a jacket. The yard is cute though. A single three and some wooden tables scattered around. There's a bench under the tree, so you sit there bracing yourself and rubbing your arms.

“Hi.” Someone says, and you find Tyler coming to join you on the bench. “You look absolutely amazing.”

“Thanks.” His tone sounds weird, and you move away from him a little.

“People didn't use to notice you, but they sure are now. And God, you're so beautiful.” He says, and you give him a confused glance. Why is he saying this? “How did you manage to stay invisible for so long?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shrug your shoulders. “Because I'm not the type of girl guys like you pay attention to. And now that I'm with Billy–"

“You're with Billy?” He cuts you off, eyes following a small group of people walking by. “Is it official?”

“Mmm... We're... We're hanging out.”

“There's a big difference, see...” Tyler moves closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You immediately shake his hand away, but he keeps it on the backrest of the bench. “Because if you're with Billy, your off-limits. And if you're not... Well, I can have a shot with you.” Tyler run his fingers through your shoulder, all the way to the back of your neck. So you get up, not even trying to seem polite.

“I'm not interested, Tyler.” Bracing yourself from the cold, you look down at him.

“Look, you know Billy won't keep you. Save yourself a broken heart.”

“(Y/N),” Billy calls and you thank the heavens. Turning around, you find Billy coming your way. “Tyler.” He says in a weird, plain tone.

“Billy.”

“Here.” He hands you over the can of soda, eyebrows furrowed. “Everything alright?”

“Sure,” Tyler speaks before you can, a humorless laugh escaping his lips.

“Wasn't talking to you.” He snaps, eyes coming to look at you.

“I'm fine.” With a half-smile, you tell him, craking the can open and taking a sip.

“Mmm.” Billy mumbers, and you can read the question in his eyes. “Here.” He says at the same time he starts taking his jacket off. “You're cold.”

“I'm not, really.” You protest, but he puts the jacket around your shoulders anyway. “I mean it, B. You'll be cold.”

“I'm alright.” He assures you. “And come. Let's get out of here.” Without giving Tyler a second glance, Billy guides you away, and you don't even try to resist.

You thought he was driving you home, but instead, he took you to a snack bar, where he bought you ice cream. And here, leaning against his car in the almost empty parking lot, you're having more fun than you were back at the party. The night is a bit cold, but the sensation Billy brings out makes you warm.

“Did Tyler say anything?” He asks, putting his empty plastic ice cream cup on the hood of his car.

“No, just... He said I'm pretty, that you'll break my heart so I should give him a chance.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look down, putting your cup next to his before pushing yourself up, sitting on the hood of his Camaro. “But don't mind him. Nobody else knows what happens between us.”

“I won't break your heart. I'm scared you will break mine.” Billy says, a nervous giggle leaving his lips. “(Y/N), I...” He comes closer, his hand, on the hood, touching your leg. Then you fold a leg under yourself, your body leaning closer to him. It happens involuntary, as a need you have you didn't even know was there. “I use to act and think and feel like I was unbreakable. But you... You made me weak.” It comes out as a plead, and Billy ends the little distance between you two. His face is too close, and his blue eyes are everything you see as his hand comes to caress your cheek. “I'm completely at your mercy. I'll do anything you say”

You've never been this close to Billy. And yet, you want more. The whole world is out of focus, and even the gravity is too much. Your heart needs him, it wants him. “Put your lips close to mine...” Your voice is barely a whisper, as your mind tries to win the fight over your heart. You'd be smart to walk away, but Billy is quicksand. He pulls you in. His kindness, gentleness... His touch, his voice, his eyes... Every single thing draws you closer. “As long as they don't touch...”

“I'm in love with you,” Billy says, eyes never leaving yours. “I've been since I saw you for the first time but it only got stronger. When we're close, I want to kiss you, and touch you and look at you... And when I see you walking away all I can hear is the sound of my own voice asking you to stay.”

A smile takes over your lips. He's confessing it, he's saying it with all the words. Billy's heart is open... And he loves you. “Everyone warns me about you. They tell me not to fall for the bad boy and sometimes it scares me but... Your name has echoed through my mind and I just think you should know.” Holding on the collar of his shirt, just to make sure he'll stay close, you look at his lips. “But nothing safe is worth the drive so...”

“(Y/N)...” He says, begs, pleads.

“This path is reckless... Treacherous... But I like it.”

And it's settled. You want him. And when Billy loses control, when he kisses you, you surrender. His lips taste like ice cream at first, but soon after all you can taste is him. And it's amazing, indescribable, inebriating. You've never kissed someone like that, you never wanted to kiss someone like that, and now you know why.

You've been waiting to kiss Billy all along.

And when you have to pull away, he holds you close, forehead touching as you both catch your breathes. The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable. It's the silence of two people in love enjoying each other's company.

“So...” Billy says after a while, his thumb caressing your lower lip. “I believe we're dating now.”

The different tone makes you laugh, playfully pushing him away and jumping off the hood. “What makes you think that?”

“A good girl like you wouldn't kiss someone she's not dating.”

“I'll make an exception for you...” With a smirk, you open the passenger door. “We can go back to the party if you want.”

“No way. I'm taking you home.” Billy gestures for you to get inside, closing the door for you.

“Are you for real?” You ask as he starts the car.

“Yup.”

“You know my mother isn't home, right? She wouldn't even know.” Putting the seat belt on, you look at Billy. He has a smile on. The kind of smile you've never seen before.

“No, I want to make things right this time.” He glances at you, and your eyes fall on his lips, making you want to kiss him again.

Blushing, you nod, looking at the road ahead. “Alright.”

On the ride home, you listen to some music. And as he speeds through the streets, you sing out loud. Some people look with an angry face, eyebrows furrowed, but it only makes you sing louder. You're happy, like you never felt before.

The song is only turned off when he stops by your house, and you step out of the car. Billy walks you to your front door, and you stop there, turning to face him.

“I had fun tonight.” You tell him, a hand on the door handle, but with no intention of going inside.

“So did I.” He mutters in a low voice, stepping closer. Despite the high heels, he's still taller, so you raise your head to look at him. The darkness hides you both from curious eyes, and it makes you brave enough to move closer, holding on to his shirt.

“You know that if I cross the door with this jacket I won't give it back anymore, right?” You whisper, a smile on your lips.

“Take it, it's yours.” He whispers back, a hand caressing your cheek. “The jacket... My heart...” And he kisses you again, slowly, allowing you to feel the warmth of his lips and mouth against the cold of the night.

But he pulls away too soon, and you sigh. “What?”

“It's past ten, pretty girl. Get inside.” He places a kiss on your forehead, reaching behind you and pushing the door open. “See you tomorrow at school.”

“Good night, B.” Smiling, you turn around and step inside, but the door remains open until his car disappears down the street.

×

@multific @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @theodore-likes-frogs @prettyinpunk85 @taisab02 @pascal-rascal424 @aleksanderblack @gruffle1

[ethanharli]

Requested: 😘 i want to request, Reader is Eggsy ex-boyfriend (I guess) because Eggsy suddenly dissapear (coz his job being a spy) and no contact at all. One day reader see wounded Eggsy chased by some guy(VILLAIN) and reader help him to hide. And maybe some couple argument then room become heated and they can't help to touch each other lmao. Maybe some rough or kink to reminisce their relationship? Well anything is fine 😙

Pairing(s): Gary 'Eggsy' Unwin x Top Male Reader.

Warning(s): Slight Angst (but mostly fluff), Slight Arguing, Nfsw/Smutt, Kinda rough, Definitely biting, Couch sex, Begging.

A/n- I have never seen Kingsman and I have no idea if it takes place in a city (cause that's what I did and I realized it right when I finished it). And I'm sorry if this is bad :"(

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Pushing my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket I looked at the night sky, letting out a long drawn out breath, just to watch it blow away in the cold air. I always made it a habit to go on cool night walks, but they always feel lonelier then they used to, mostly cause I used to go on these walks with my ex-lover. It's been about two, maybe three years since he disappeared, just up and left with no way to get in contact with him, and I've slowly made peace with the fact I might not ever get to see him again, so all I can do is hope that where ever he is, he's okay. Taking a deep breath I headed down the sidewalk, trying to avoid the people that walked by, but out the corner of my eye I spotted two people running on the other side of the street, and I couldn't help but feel like one of them seemed familiar.

Looking down the side walk and back towards were I saw them, I didn't know what to do, on one hand I wanted to see what was going on but on the other I just wanted to head home. "Fuck it" After a moment of thinking it over I quickly crossed the street, making my way down the path they had ran, cursing once again when I found a gate blocking my way. Ripping off my jacket I let it fall to the ground before gripping onto the gate and swiftly pushing myself over it, hitting the ground on the other side with a soft thud. A small huff slipped past my lips as I saw only two paths, both left and right, most noise and footsteps coming from the left so I headed towards the right, "If I'm quick enough I might be able to get there before them."

Picking up the pace I quickly darted around the corners, using my security guard training as a way to keep a steady breath and cut corners. Finally making it to a clearing I saw the street was bustling with people, so taking a deep breath I headed to the other side of the alley, seeing the two quickly heading this way. So pressing my back to the other side of the wall I hid from their vision, quickly grabbing the arm of the one being chased as he came out of the alley and pulling him to the side. "What the-" I didn't let him continue as I dragged him into the crowd, watching as the other person let out a frustrated huff, scanning around on last time before walking away.

"[Y/n]?" I instantly turned at the call of my name, about to question how they knew it until my eyes meet a familiar blue pair. "Eggsy.." My breath caught in my throat as I looked at him, his brown hair obviously slick with gel but slowly starting to fall in front of his face, lips slightly parted as he panted for breath, but his eyes had me captivated, as they always did and I didn't know how to feel, torn between hugging him or yelling at him. Yet, once I heard a soft hiss slip past his lips as he gripped his side I pushed my feelings away and gently rested my hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the crowd, "Let's get you patched up." We didn't speak much on the way towards my apartment, he mostly sent awkward glances my way but I was to stuck in my own head to really care.

So when we arrived I made sure to check around making sure we weren't followed before I got him inside and settled him on a chair in the living room. "Take your shirt off, I need to look at the wound" I spoke bluntly, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it's him, that he's here, after three long, painful years of nothing, he's finally here. Shaking my head I pulled out a first aid kit from the top cupboard, making sure to take a seat in front of the injured male, while trying to make sure my eyes didn't wander over his bare torso. Yet I immediately spotted the medium sized bruise on his side, it was a nasty shade of dark purple and I could tell it'll last for a long while, so, I went to work.

Five minutes, it took five minutes of him staring at me and gently pressing a heated pad to his side for him to finally say something. "You're still here? You always talked about moving, you worked hard so you could" His tone was soft and steady, but hesitant and I can't really blame him for that. Fidgeting every so often under my touch, trying to relax against the chair as I tapped my foot against the wooden floor, "Yeah well, that was before my boyfriend just up and disappeared out of no where." I didn't mean for the words to come out so harsh, but I couldn't deny the anger that slowly bubbled up within me. All the pent up anger and frustration over the years that I tried so hard to forget about, coming crashing back in one big tidal wave.

"[Y/n], I'm sorry I-"

"You're sorry?"

My eyes narrowed as I glared at him, trying my best to keep my anger under wraps as I grit my teeth together, "You left! Do you know how hard it was to know I went to sleep with you in my arms, thinking everything was alright, that we were alright, only to wake up with you gone." My body tensed at the memory of that night, remembering how we laughed and kissed, like there wasn't a thing wrong in the world and it was just us two. Going to bed with him in my arms, and telling each other 'I love you,' only to wake up alone, with all his stuff gone as well, "[Y/n] I had no choice." Something in me seemed to snap as I quickly stood from my seat, the hand that kept the warm pack on his side tensing slightly, as I leaned over him, not caring about the close proximity when I rested my hand on the back of the chair, trapping him between it and myself.

"No choice? You could've told me you were leaving! I spent three years- three long agonizing years thinking you left cause you didn't want to be with me anymore! And if that were the case then why not just fucking tell me?!" I couldn't stop the sudden rise of my voice, glaring into his blue eyes as I brought myself closer to him, making sure to keep eye contact even if we were only a few inches apart. Letting out a heavy breath I ignored the heat rising in his cheeks as I pressed forward, "I spent countless nights looking for you! Wondering where the hell you could've gone, and wondering if you were alright, cause I was scared shitless!" Tears slowly gathered in my eyes as I looked at him, feeling my heart ache in my chest, not feeling the way his hands rested on my arms.

"I was told to give up, I was told to accept the reality that you were probably dead, but I couldn't- I couldn't because I lo-!" My eyes widened when he pulled me down into a desperate kiss that I couldn't help but sink into, letting my eyes flutter shut as I brought my hand to the back of his head, running my fingers through the soft brown strands as our lips slid together perfectly, and I couldn't help but remember those countless nights we shared before as I dragged my tongue along his lower lip, shyly brushing our tongues together when he finally granted me access. However my hands traveled beneath his thighs, making sure not to touch his bruise as I hoisted him up and moved us towards the couch, pressing his bare back against the couch cushions before I peeled off my shirt and threw it to the side. I practically drank in the sight of him, a rosey red blush coated his cheeks and dusted lightly over his shoulders, his chest rising and falling as he panted softly, "Absolutely stunning, every god damn inch of you."

His blush only seemed to deepen from my words, while our noses bumped together slightly as he quickly pulled me back down into a feverish kiss, my hands trailing over his torso, rolling my thumbs over his nipples, forcing a high pitched whimper past his throat that had my cock throbbing from the sound of it. "Good to know you're still sensitive here" A sly smirk was brought to my face as I leaned towards his neck, dragging my tongue up his heated skin before I chuckled softly and bit down, "Ngh!" His pleasured grunts and roll of his hips against my own encouraged me to continue, making sure to litter his neck and shoulders with multiple love bites, as my thumbs continued to toy with his perky buds. "F-Fuck, [Y/n] please.." Sitting up I adjusted myself between his legs, drawing my tongue over my upper lip as I looked down at him, "C'mon baby, you know what to do" He narrowed his eyes at me in slight irritation but he knew as well I did that he enjoys it. So propping himself up against the armrest he looked me in the eyes as he unbuckled his pants, "Please [Y/n].. I need you, I need to feel you," He panted softly, beginning to slide out of his jeans and boxers, "Please, fill me up."

The mere sight of him nearly had me choking, and I hadn't realized just how much I missed the feeling of him beneath me, the feeling of him pressed against me. In a quick motion I brought my fingers to my lips, coating them in my saliva before moving them between his legs and positioning my middle finger at his entrance, "You ready sweetheart?" Watching him nod I let out a drawn breath before slowly pressing my finger inside him, watching him squirm a bit and I couldn't help but notice how tight he is.

"Let me kn-"

"Move."

His breathy moan caught me a bit off guard, but I was happy to comply and started to thrust my finger at an even pace, letting my lips continue to explore the unmarked places of his neck before sliding in another finger, "Ngh, Fuck" His moans only spurred me on and I couldn't help but notice how uncomfortably tight my pants have gotten. "Please just- just put it in [Y/n] please!" With a low chuckle I nodded my head, pulling my fingers out of him so that I could take off my own jeans and boxer briefs, then position my tip at his entrance, slowly pushing inside of him and shuddering at the feeling of his tight walls around me. "Fuck! Y-You can move" Letting out a soft pant I slowly rocked my hips, letting us both adjust until I quickened my pace, searching for a certain spot I had memorized years ago.

His nails dug in and raked down my back, letting out a broken shuddering moan that let me know I had found it, "There! Shit-" He groaned out as I made sure to hit that spot, raising my hand to gently wipe away the tears that gathered in his eyes before capturing his lips with my own, feeling his hips jerk when my other hand made it's way to his throbbing cock, causing my core to sting when he moaned into my ear, "I-Im gonna cum" He hissed softly, now rocking his hips with my own. "Go ahead sweetheart, cum for me" I spoke huskily, running my thumb over his tip while hitting his prostate dead on. Causing his body to shudder and tense beneath me, cumming into my hand as I speeded up my thrusts, hearing his breath hitch in his throat, "In or out?" I asked through clenched teeth, feeling him wrap his legs tightly around my waist, "In."

So with a quick thrust I came inside him, letting out hard batted pants that mixed with his own, and I couldn't help but lay on his chest, cuddling into him like I had done many times in the past, loving the feeling of his fingers running through my hair, I was tired, we both were, but I was scared to fall asleep, "Eggsy.." I spoke softly, looking up into his eyes as he smiled back at me, "Yes?"

"Please be here when I wake up.."

"I will, I promise."

And to my surprise, he was.

[fuckinuchihas]

hi! this is an emergency request, sorry to bother.. it's my birthday now, but I feel like I haven't gotten as far as I should by now and I can't help feeling like I've failed. do you think you could do hc's for kuroo, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, mattsun, and/or the miya twins (separate or together) cheering their s/o up for her birthday? also p l e a s e don't do all of these if you don't want to. thank you so much. (also i'm 18+, so whatever you think suits the characters works)

I plan to get to Iwa and Mattsun soon but on the off chance your birthday isn’t over yet I wanted you to have these two to start!

I don’t know the twins well but if I can get something I’m okay with out, you’ll have one or both of them too!

Kuroo:

As hard as it would be to take, Kuroo would understand when you say you don’t want a party. He wants to show you off and let everyone in his life, in both your lives, celebrate the person that means the most to him. You don’t want the attention though, so he nods and promises not to make a big deal out of it.

But he draws the line at leaving you alone for it.

He refuses to give in and eventually you relent and promise to let him spend the day, just the two of you together.

He shows up at your doorstep at 11:58 two minutes before the day officially starts and you’re half asleep ( he woke you mid nap) staring up at him in a shirt that’s just a little too big and he goes soft at the sight of you being so absolutely adorable.

You rub your eyes a little while asking what he’s doing there and he rolls his eyes at you before pushing his way into the small, comfortable apartment you’ve rented for yourself.

“Like I would miss a minute of it,” he says, arms laden with bags that he sits on the counter.

“What is all this?” you ask, wide eyed and slightly more awake now that you’ve noticed the bags.

“Well some of it is your favorite snacks, and some actual groceries so I can cook you breakfast and a romantic dinner later tonight…”

“Tets...this is all, it’s too much.”

He stops, turns to you and puts a hand on your shoulder to make sure you’re facing him directly before lifting your chin up until you can look in those big, bright eyes of his. “I’m grateful, y’know…”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I want to celebrate your birthday because I’m grateful you were born. I’m so happy that you exist in the world and that I can love you. Please...please let me do this,” he says, eyes a little glassy as he searches over your features.

“Oh…” you whisper softly, heart racing as your gaze flicks down to his lips. “Okay I guess.”

He smiles softly at you, using his thumb to brush against your chin before he leans in and presses a warm, quick kiss to your lips. “Thank you, for being born and for being mine.”

Bokuto:

So everyone knows that Bokuto is so full of life and fun and energy and you’d think this big fluffy himbo owl boy would want nothing more than to throw a party for his amazing partner. But while Bo is a bit, okay maybe a lot clueless about some things, he’s noticed how you’ve slowly been crawling into yourself as your birthday approaches.

He’s not sure how to fix it but he does realize that a big party isn’t the way to go. For him, maybe but not you. As much as he would love to show you a good time and have everyone together, he figures for the first time in his life a more subtle approach is necessary.

Okay you got him, he asked Akaashi for advice and Kaashi told him not to be an idiot and draw attention to the fact that you’re not feeling your best.

Still...it was his idea not to throw a party so he should get bonus points too he thinks.

He finds you in an oversized hoodie and pajama pants despite it being mid afternoon when he comes over with your favorite dessert in hand.

He melts.

“You’re so cute, babe.”

“Bo, I’m a mess. What are you even talking about?” you ask, a small chuckle leaving your lips though. He has a way of making you smile even when it’s hardest.

“Here, eat one of these, or five I don’t care,” he says, handing over the pastry box. “Then you’re gonna get ready and we’re going out.

“Ko, I don’t really feel-”

“Just us… I promise,” he says, and you hesitate.

“Fine…”

“That’s my baby,” he says, patting the top of your head.

You scrunch up your nose but ignore the feeling of being patronized because Bo would never and also the promise of sugar is far too appealing.

When you’ve stuffed yourself full on dessert, you change into your favorite seasonal outfit. It’s warm and soft and it fits you like a glove. Bo gives an appreciative whistle despite the fact that he’s seen you in it several times before.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, shaking your head but you chuckle anyway.

“What? You’re hot...I’m not gonna let you forget it, not for a second.”

You feel your face warm up a little but you duck your head to hide it away.

He pulls you by the hand toward the door and then out to where his truck is waiting.

When you get to the passenger side he opens the door for you like a proper gentleman and then you start to climb up but instead he lifts you up like it’s nothing and eases you down onto the seat despite your slight flailing.

“BO!” you squawk.

“What?,” he says, adding a huff of your name with a wide grin. “I was just trying to be romantic!”

You see a bit of mischief spark in his eyes and you huff out a disgruntled noise.

“No you were just being mean,” you say, shaking your head but you can’t stay mad at him.

He’s too cute, honestly it’s kind of unfair.

Ignoring your fake pout he jogs around to the driver’s seat and hops into the cab beside you, pulling until your pressed up against his side where you belong.

You start to look at him a bit strangely when the road goes from blacktop to gravel and then again when it changes to just sand and a little mud from the rain yesterday.

He pulls into a grassy field and you look around skeptically. “Are you...hiding a murder cabin out here somewhere or something?”

“What? No!” Bo says, shaking his head. “We’re having a picnic.”

You start to open the door but he flies across the cab and pulls the door shut.

“Uhh.. just give me a minute first okay?” he says, and you quirk an eyebrow at him but agree easily enough.

He moves back to his side of the cab just as quickly but you feel the warmth of him leave and you have to pull back a whine. There’s a chill outside and now that the engine has been cut it’s not nearly as comfortable. Thankfully though, you don’t have to wait long before Bo comes back with a wide grin, offering you his hand to help yourself down.

You chuckle but follow along with his guidance.

When you get around to the side of the cab you realize both why he lifted you into the cab because there’s no way you would have missed this.

The bed of the truck is covered in soft fluffy blankets and pillows and there’s a gorgeous wicker basket in the middle and you go a little weak in the knees but Bo just puffs his chest out and grins. “So you like it, eh?”

“No, shut up-” you lie, but he knows the truth so you don’t bother to correct yourself.

The food is amazing, he picked up your regular meal at the place you guys went to on your first date and he takes pleasure in watching you eat as he digs into his own plate.

When the food is gone he stretches out, props himself up on the stack of pillows against the back of the cab and motions for you to join him.

When you cuddle into his side he starts.

“I really like your smile, especially that sleepy soft one you get in the mornings before you’ve forced yourself out of bed…” he grins, and you blink up at him.

“And the way you laugh when something is really funny, not just a little funny but like hilarious. Like that one time with the peanut m&m’s, I still can’t look at a bag without laughing…”

You chuckle too because it’s a fond memory just between the two of you. Still..this feels strange so you poke him in the side gently and ask, “Kou, what’s this about?”

“Oh it’s nothing-”

“Bo…”

“Ugh fine, I was trying to give you one thing I love about you for every year you’ve been alive. I found the idea on the internet but it seemed really nice and stuff.”

You melt a little further into the blanket pile with Bo. “It’s very nice, thank you. But this is all I need.”

“Well I could still say em’ though.. Right? I made a list and everything,” he says, pulling the paper out of his pocket to show you. “Those were the only ones I remembered without looking though.”

You chuckle. “It’s okay...thank you by the way, for all of this. It was exactly what I needed,” you add and he looks so fucking proud of himself that it’s almost hard to look at.

You lay there together for a while as he continues to read each and every item off the list and you smile up at him with a look of true awe in your expression before you pull his neck a bit until his lips press against yours and it feels like you’ve come home again.

[yourcreepyneighborhoodelftwink]

As the Hero fell upwards through the sands of time, the days rewinding like the gears of a clock, he landed calmly on the cobblestones of Clock Town Square, at the dawn of the first day. He had been through this many times before, and had grown accustomed to reliving the same 3 days, helping the same people with the same schedules, slowly making more and more progress each time. At least he didn't feel an enormous time crunch, even with the threat of the moon hanging above him, he was always able to rewind the days, and could take days to rest, to sleep or ride Epona or play with the inhabitants.

He rarely did, but it was nice that the option was there.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Tatl getting his attention with a soft tinkling sound, looking over at the stand near the Deku flower, and the note pinned to it.

"That's certainly new…" she said cautiously as they approached, Tatl reading aloud to Link.

The pair exchanged a confused and frightened look. It wasn't signed, but they knew exactly who left the note for them.

BEN sat on the edge of the field, their boots hanging over the barrier where the grass turned into sand, looking out at the canyon leading to the beach. It had been so long since they had entered their game, only playing it from the outside. Perhaps they had been showing too much love to Breath of the Wild lately and not enough to the dark masterpiece of their former prison, or perhaps it was the only world they could enter that felt truly real, where the sun was warm and the wind blew. They HAD become a bit spoiled, learning that adding weather effects and random wind blowing did wonders to immersion when they entered a game.

They closed their eyes, speaking up before looking behind them.

"You didn't have to rush over here. "as possible" doesn't mean "instantly", you know…" BEN said gently, lowering their ears with a guilty smile.

Link frowned softly, keeping his distance from the elf. He couldn't draw his sword AND sign, after all, so he would have to make due. "You didn't specify. I've learned better than to provoke you."

BEN couldn't exactly blame his caution. It's why they were here, after all. "My bad. I'll be more specific next time. But I suppose it's neither here nor there now…"

"...is there something you want, BEN? " Link asked, clearly a bit anxious by being asked to meet.

"...a few things. I won't lie and say there isn't a favor I'd like to ask the both of you-"

"Like you have any right to ask Link for anything, at this point!" Tatl quickly interjected, turning red in anger. "You've terrorized us for no good reason, revealed truths we didn't need to know, and then just left us alone one day!"

"-BUT," BEN continued, "that isn't my main reason for being here. First and foremost... You're long overdue for an apology from me."

Link and Tatl looked at each other in confusion. "...pardon? " Link questioned.

"...I've been doing a lot of thinking and self reflecting lately. Especially because I finally have reason to want to improve myself. And I think I've gotten pretty far in trying to right the wrongs of my past, and try to change as a person. But I still never gave the both of you a proper apology, or even an explanation for how I treated you…" BEN sheepishly said.

Link looked down at the seated person, absolutely dumbfounded. All the times he had been attacked by BEN came instantly into his mind, only to not even be able to so much as scratch them in return, even the might of a Goron doing nothing to them. All the times he had been followed and told he was insignificant, worthless, a joke of a hero, told he was nothing more than a bland, boring conduit for the player of a game in a world far grander than his own. Only for BEN to just... Disappear one day. Gone. Vanish into thin air, and only return occasionally, seemingly at their leisure. Something... Didn't add up to him, and he wasn't sure what on Earth made them suddenly stop tormenting him, and now want to make things right.

"...I'll hear you out, at least," Link finally said, stepping forward to sit next to him. If nothing else, were he going to harm Link, BEN would have done it by now.

"Not that it makes us all hunky-dory yet," Tatl offered, settling on Link's shoulder.

BEN smiled softly, letting out a relieved breath. They stayed quiet for a moment, deciding their words carefully. "I'm not... Sure where to start. So much has happened to me. I guess I should start when we first met. When I first entered this game. It was my favorite game, and with me when I died," they started.

Tatl interrupted, jingling softly. "...when you died?"

BEN nodded softly. "When I died. I was just about your age, Link, about 12. More specifically, when I was murdered. Father simply... Got tired of me, I suppose. He tricked my religion's leader- we refer to him as The Father- into thinking it was my time to Ascend when it wasn't. The whole explanation of my belief system isn't important in this, just that I was robbed of something very important and sacred to me because of it."

"That sounds horrible," Link signed.

"It was... And I was only 12, and not the greatest at understanding or expressing my emotions... I was so angry, absolutely furious at losing that chance, as what had been done to me. I've always had a strong sense of justice, if you can believe it. I don't easily stand for people wronging me. But when I died, my spirit was trapped in this game. All that rage bottled up, with nowhere to release it... Until I started releasing it on you. Very unfairly."

"I'll say," Tatl said, though there wasn't much bite behind her words.

"Eventually, someone played the game, and I was able to break free, find someone else to torment. And after that, start lashing out at everyone who had hurt me, making them

PĄŸ,"

BEN continued, their voice glitching out just a bit at the final word.

"...i moved on to more innocent people after that. I was out of control. To the point where my goddess, Luna, intervened. She stopped me herself, gave me a new body, made me into a young adult so I wouldn't be trapped as a child forever, and I carry the souls of everyone I hurt in my blind sadism, until I join her again one day. And I've worked hard to be a better person now. I've found so much to make my life wonderful, and to make the most of my second chance…" BEN trailed off.

"...but you still want to make amends to everyone you've hurt," Link finished for them.

"...I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't think I can be forgiven. But I really AM sorry for how I treated you. Both of you. Of everyone I've lashed out at, you're the least deserving of it. No matter WHAT'S happened to me, it's NO excuse for how much I've hurt you. And even if you never forgive me, I would love the opportunity to make it up to you…" they finished softly.

"...would you excuse us for a moment?" Tatl asked, flying a slight distance away. Link glanced over at BEN before rising to his feet to follow, and speak with the fairy alone. BEN politely stayed looking forward, allowing them the privacy.

"...do you believe them?" Tatl asked.

"...yeah. They seem genuine," Link admitted.

Tatl nodded softly. "I do, too. There's much simpler ways to trick us or convince us if that was their intention. Even if they said they wanted a favor, this is a lot of lengths to go to for just that…"

"I wonder what they want," the hero mused, glancing over at BEN.

"...maybe ask? Perhaps you can also ask a favor of him, test his sincerity," she said.

"What would that be? " he asked.

"Well, you've said you're curious about his world, whatever it is that our entire world is only a game in, a small part of. Maybe you can ask to explore his world. It'd give you the opportunity to spend more time with him and let him earn your trust, anyway," she offered.

Link nodded softly, then whistled to get BEN's attention. "Alright, BEN, we've talked it over. First, I want to know what favor it is you want…"

"Actually, it's a favor specifically from Tatl," they explained.

"Wait, me?" she questioned.

"...my daughter has watched me play this game a lot. And she's absolutely fallen in LOVE with you, she ADORES seeing you on screen. Her first birthday is in a few months, and there's... Circumstances about my life, and now hers, that will make her very different from other children, with so many secrets to keep. She could really use having a companion by her side, a friend to offer wisdom and company and help when she needs it. A copy of you, like how I copied Epona, to watch over her and make her feel less alone…" BEN said.

"...you have a daughter?" Link asked.

"And a boyfriend. Soon to be husband," BEN explained, holding up their hand to show off their ring.

Tatl let out a soft chime at this. "Well... I'm certainly flattered you think I'd make a good companion to her…"

BEN smiled softly. "I don't expect an answer today, don't worry. There's still a few months before her birthday. And I understand if it's not something you're comfortable with…"

"...we have a proposal for you, in that case," Link began. "You want to make amends to us. We're admittedly curious about this world outside of our own. So, let us explore. Show us your life, and what lies outside this "game", and earn our trust. Then we'll consider it."

BEN thought this over. They'd have to be careful, but this wasn't impossible… "...I can't completely remove you from the game. I'd have to copy you, then merge the copy and your true self after. It's basically the same thing, though, you'd keep the memories and everything. And you'd have to do EXACTLY as I say, I... REALLY can't have attention drawn to myself or the people I live with. If there's something that catches your attention, you can't gawk, just stay calm and ask me. And there's going to be a LOT, the real world is nothing like this one. Hylian sign doesn't match up with any sign language in my world, so you'll at least be able to speak freely. But if you can do that, and trust that I'm keeping us both safe when I tell you to do something... I'll happily show you around."

Link considers this, then nods. He holds out his hand to BEN, who shakes it.

"Then we have a deal."

[doyelikehaggis]

The Vampire Diaries Verse (Screw-Canon Style): Klaus Mikaelson x Stefan Salvatore x Hayley Marshall | Put your arms around me and I'm home

Requested by anonymous

For a moment, Klaus can't feel a thing. It's like he's just there, floating in an abyss of nothing, without a corporeal form. Not quite existing, but just enough for him to be aware of it. Maybe this is true death, he thinks.

Or maybe it's his punishment for every sin he's committed in his life. Not quite peace, not quite hell. A limbo of sorts, where he'll be all alone, forever accompanied by nothing but his own mind. And he's content with that. It's not endless torture, and he'll take anything over that. There would be too many possibilities for ways that he could be broken.

No, this is right. This is what he deserves, and he is okay with that. In a way, he makes peace with it in that moment. 

Then it's as if he blinks, and things slowly start to form in the abyss. It turns from pure darkness to a light shade of grey, silhouettes and objects hazy and unfocused, as if just out of reach. Colours start to seep into the picture before his eyes, and his heart starts to sink. Of course he doesn't get off with simply being isolated for the rest of eternity. 

Murmurs echo around him, drifting closer, getting clearer. His eyes narrow, trying to pick out a word, something that'll help him figure out what exactly is going on. He's supposed to be dead. If he's not dead then the hollow could still take over. Everyone, especially Hope, will still be in danger. 

Laughing catches his attention. He whips around, on high alert, already trying to shift in anticipation of a fight. But his teeth stay blunt and human. He doesn't feel himself get stronger, or angrier, or feel a need for blood. Not even the presence of magic inside of him, the curse of the hollow trying to get free. It's all...gone.

"Aw, he thinks he's still the all-powerful hybrid. Isn't that adorable?"

Klaus goes completely still. His chest constricts, the air getting caught in his lungs as his head snaps up. Something won't let him turn around, though, let him see for himself. Fear. This is a hallucination of some sort. Probably caused by the hollow. Just a mind game.

"The cutest."

His heart twists, and he really can't breathe. It's not possible. Those voices. It can't be.

But he forces himself to turn around now, his heart stuttering in his chest. And there they are. His stomach drops and he can only stare wide-eyed in disbelief at Hayley and Stefan, standing so casually in front of him. So alive, their eyes bright and full of something he never thought he'd see in either of them ever again. Both wearing smiles with this look on their faces. 

"How..." he starts, but can't figure out the rest, simply shaking his head. "This isn't..."

The amusement softens across both of their features, turning to understanding. His mind can barely keep up, trying to process it and failing. It's the Hollow. It has to be. Even in death it won't leave him be, let him rest in peace. 

"It's real, Klaus," Hayley says, and her voice sounds so real. 

He just shakes his head again as Stefan nods, confirming it. He goes to step back, but stops when Hayley reaches out, her hand settling on his shoulder. The rage that had been building at this mind game he's being forced to play fizzles out like a flame underwater. It feels like everything inside of him stills, as if the whole world slows to let him catch up. 

His eyes follow her arm to her hand. He can feel it. The gentle pressure of her fingers curling around his arm, giving a squeeze of proof. Warmth emanating from her skin, and the closer he listens, he realizes with a start, he can hear her heartbeat. The same heart that he heard being crushed. The same skin he saw catch alight under the burning sun until there was nothing left of her. Yet here she is. 

Slowly, he draws in a sharp breath, light-headed all of a sudden. He lifts his eyes to meet her soft, assuring gaze. It's not a trick. He knows, because hallucinations even get things wrong, and only the real version of Hayley has ever looked at him like that. 

"It's real," he echoes back to her, and her mouth curves a little more as she gives another, single nod. 

He doesn't think, just moves, brushing her hand off to pull her into him. Her surprise is clear, but she hugs him back, arms winding around him. Klaus can barely bring himself to remember to breathe. He can feel her. Her small, powerful body in his arms, her hair against his face. Her heart beating against his chest and beneath the skin of her neck. She's real.

The second wave of realization makes him cling tighter, his breath coming out in a harsh gasp. His eyes move without him really controlling his actions. They lock onto that familiar pair of green eyes that are shining so brightly, still holding that same look that Klaus has never felt like he earned. That he thought he had missed his chance to ever see again when he heard of his death while he was too many miles away. 

Hayley pulls back, and despite the part of him that read every single letter she wrote to him wanting nothing more than to hold onto her forever, he lets her, his gaze still locked onto Stefan. 

"Well," he breathes out, "I heard you ignored me, as per usual, and did a lousy job of taking care of yourself."

Stefan's mouth curves into a grin and a soft chuckle. "You're one to talk."

Klaus can't help but laugh in return. He's crying, he realizes, feeling the wetness around his eyes. They both are. 

"I'll admit, I've missed you," Stefan says, and holds a hand out to him with dancing eyes. "Welcome to the afterlife, old friend."

Glancing at his hand, Klaus scoffs. He doesn't even hesitate in knocking it aside and pulling him in with a hand on his shoulder instead. Stefan instantly wraps his arms tightly around him, face pressed into his shoulder. Klaus grips the base of his neck and closes his eyes. For the first time, when he exhales, it doesn't feel like a weight is crushing him. 

It doesn't feel like he's going to drown in a sea of grief and despair, but is home at last. 

Yet again, he finds himself unwilling to break apart. But he forces himself to anyway, only he doesn't let go. He leans in without worry, without thought, feeling Stefan's desire as strongly as his own. Stefan, who moves to meet him as if it's the most familiar thing in the world, as if it hasn't been decades since they last kissed. 

In his heart, it doesn't feel like it has. Everything feels right now, like a rush of memories flowing through him, dropping every barrier he had in place. The same effect that Stefan has had since that day in 1922.  He just never thought he would get a chance to feel it all again, not like this.

A throat clearing draws them apart with grins. Klaus steps back and looks over at Hayley, her eyebrows raised but a smile glinting in her eyes.

"Don't worry, little wolf, there's plenty more of me for you," he says.

Hayley rolls those brilliant eyes that he's adored since their first meeting as well. "Still obnoxious in the afterlife. Got it. Are we sure this is peace and not hell?"

"Ouch." Klaus presses a mocking hand to his chest with a wolfish grin. "And here I thought you would be thrilled to see me again."

"This is certainly better than the last time we reunited," Stefan jokes, tilting his head. "Well, sort of. We're all kind of dead this time around, so I'm not too sure about that, but at least no one is trying to kill each other. That's good, right?"

Hayley doesn't agree. A dark look crosses her face. "I was hoping it would be a lot longer before this." She looks at Klaus, and he understands the glint in her eyes before she even says it. "For Hope's sake."

He presses his lips together, swallowing down the lump in his throat and the stinging still lingering in his eyes. The reality of it had slipped him for just a moment, but now he nods, smiling sadly.

"I know," he says, then draws in a shaking breath. "But she's strong. Like her mother. She can survive this." He glances at Stefan, laying a hand on his shoulder. "And she has Caroline looking out for her, along with Rebekah and Marcel, and Freya, and even Kol."

Stefan makes a noise at that, disguising the flash of pain in his eyes at the mention of Caroline. "Kol? I'm a little more worried about her now."

"Yeah, that wasn't your most uplifting speech," Hayley agrees with humour in her voice. 

"I knew there was a reason I never wanted to introduce the two of you," Klaus says dryly, and points a finger at them. "I will not be ganged up on! Elijah will be joining us soon, I assume, and the last thing I need is three against one."

"Oh yeah, no can do, buddy," Stefan says, patting his hand. He shares a grin with Hayley. "We've gotten pretty close waiting for you over here. I don't know if we can make any promises on that one."

Hayley shakes her head. "Absolutely not."

"Alright." Klaus drops his hand from Stefan's shoulder. "I'm going to wait over there for my dear brother, far away from the two of you."

"Yeah, good luck with that because we're not going anywhere," Hayley says cheerily, and Stefan agrees.

Despite the front he's putting on, he feels an insurmountable joy. He hopes they're right, because he couldn't bear to lose either of them again. Just seeing them together feels like a blessing, something far more precious than anything he has ever been deserving of in his life.

He would be happy to listen to the two of them tease and trade jibes about him for hours, because it means they're both here with him, and happy. At peace. He understands now why he's here, somewhere in the middle of the bayou. This is his peace. Stefan and Hayley. They're his happy ending, the one thing he never thought that he would get. He's happy to be wrong.

[cavariously]

[Trying my hand at a fan fiction.

I love to write but I have never done anything like this before, so all feedback would be extremely appreciated (Grammer, Plot, Characters etc.).

I love Tokyo Ghoul so I really hope I don't fuck this up 😅. A big thank you to anyone who reads this ❤️]

Caution: Agressive Swearing, Offensive Language, Graphic Violence.

Notes: Takes place post end of TG:re, Reapers = Marshall version of Doves.

1. Crow - 24

City lights and the rushing motions of the landscape turn the 24th ward into a blinding and blaring circus. Humans. They crawl through this city with the assurance that they will be here tomorrow. They will be here a year from now. They will be here forever. They are the only lifeform with this assurance. All other creatures in this world live with the knowledge that their making it to the next moment is a fifty fifty

It is certainly a miracle that they last, noticing absolutely nothing at all. They don't see the effects that the fumes of their veichles have on the planet that they grip so tightly to. They can't begin to recognise that they are being continually watched and targeted by devices that could wipe them from the face of said Earth in less than zero. They don't even notice the apex predictor observing them from less than a mile above.

Humans simply move from one spot to another, only stopping to cause irrevocable disaster and reduce their surroundings to less than ash, and then move on to the next target. Someone said that humans are Parasites, and although it may be naive to believe this was wholly correct, it would be complete ignorance to dismiss it entirely. Ghouls do not indulge in such ignorance. Parasite is an apt description for a human, from the perspective of a ghoul, that and food.

The figure stands tall, wind rushing rapidly through their tied up hair. They can smell the putrescence of man-kind as they go about their sweaty and arrogant business. They would laugh if it wasn't so tragic. What do humans amount to? They are greedy and bloody bags of meat that fight and hate more than any other being, yet they are allowed to multiply and just be. It could be argued that ghouls are the same as humans in this aspect, but most abide by the one meal a month agreement, even though this arrangement can be hell for some. Unlike humans, who see violence as their God given right, when ghouls fight, it is rarely for anything other than survival. Perhaps this view doesn't take all ghouls into account, but all humans gorge themselves on everything, and fight for any fucking reason they want.

Twenty years ago, a disaster was meant to end this disparity. For the first time ever, ghouls and humans fought together to save the world they shared from the monster that had been designated 'DRAGON'. The defeating of this enemy was meant to end in equality, where ghouls and humans shared the world equally. Scientific leaps had been made. Synthetic meats that ghouls could eat, so they wouldn't have to harm humans. The corpse of Dragon even lead to dramatic advancements in the medical field. Humans were now benefiting from ghoul DNA, as it allowed them to combat most illnesses and increase their lifespan somewhat. After all that ghouls had done for them, weren't humans grateful? No. Ten years, then ghouls were back to being vile creatures to be hunted, and were forced back to living in the sewers. The deaths of so many perfectly good and innocent ghouls, just so that humanity could screw them all over again. What a funny tragedy.

Another figure appeared from the shadows, stepping in line with their comrade. Neither looking at the other, they both silently watched the ferris-wheel turn round and round. A world that they saw as rightfully theirs. They were hungry for it and they would have it. No matter the cost. In fact, the more human casualties... the better.

"Are you ready to go?" the newcomer asked, never taking their attention away from everything below.

"Yeah. Any longer and I might have to eat you."

"Like you could" came the cold, arrogant response.

"Just because you got five inches on me now, doesn't mean I can't still beat your ass Da..."

"Don't fucking call me that. While we're out here you call me Kuma and I call you... Blindfold, or Eyeless. Something like that." Even though his response had been quick and sharp, neither his tone nor his concentration had wavered.

"Eyeless" they conceded.

"Fine, Eyeless it is. Just don't go shouting our real names out in public. You're enough of a liability as it is without giving our fucking identities away."

Eyeless finally turned to look at their brother. They couldn't help feeling a pang of nostalgia. He had been so small once, constantly hanging onto their shoulders and making paper birds that he place all over their home. Those memories hurt, especially when they remembered what came after. He used to smile so much and now he's a moody little shit. They'd never been like that at fourteen, they thought smugly.

"Fine. Let's go KUMA before I rip your snarky head off." With that final retort, Eyeless turned and stepped off of the roof.

Kuma watched them drop six stories, landing with grace and poise. Why were they always so aggravating? Maybe he was jealous of their natural ability, or perhaps they were just a pain in the ass to be related to. With a sigh and a wandering look to the night sky, he followed suit.

* * *

The Marshalls finished up disposing of the ghoul. Bikakus are a pain in the ass Haruto thought, but it's better than a Ukaku. Haruto loved the fact that he was an intimidating figure. The ghoul had basically shat itself as soon as it had seen his large muscular frame, and cruel bearded face. The black trench coat they wore, that often announced the end for ghouls, probably didn't hurt either. He nudged the face of the corpse with his foot. He reckoned it wouldn't even be worth removing his Kakahou to get a new quinque. Taking into account the short amount of time it had taken him and Kenji to bypass his defences and cut him through the middle, he was a B rated ghoul maximum.

"Right, time we get back" Haruto sighed.

"Mhm" Kenji agreed. He never said much.

"Did you bring the body bag? You never know, you might be able to upgrade that piece of shit you call a quinque." Haruto laughed loudly. He loved taking the piss out of Kenji, especially when he knew his only retort woukd be 'mhm'.

As expected, Kenji responded with a grumbling "Mhm", and moved towards the body.

Haruto, turned to walk away, lighting a cigarette and beginning to inhale deeply. That Kenji was going to marry his sister. What's he gonna say when the priest asks him if he takes her to be his lawfully wedded wife? Mhm. Haruto chuckled to himself. All in all Kenji was a good guy, and one hell of a Marshall. He could use that crappy Ukaku quinque pretty damn well, even if it did come from a C rated ghoul. Kenji also took Haruto's kids to the beach when he and Mrs Haruto wanted a quiet weekend. He might be an ugly fucker with next to no hair, and a face that made you want to split him down the middle, but he was clean and sometimes smelt nice. Yeah, Kenji could marry his sister if he wanted. She could do a hell of a lot worse.

A loud splatter sounded out behind Haruto. He spun on his heels, instincts flaring immediately into action. Where the fuck was Kenji? Where his partner had been attempting to fit the ghoul into the black bag, there was now the cut in half corpse of his future brother in law, fallen to the sides with a blindfolded figure standing in the middle. His entire being twitched in anticipation of this thing making a move to kill him, but all it did was leasurly bend down and scoop something up from the gore beneath. As the creature straightened up, he saw that it was simply sucking on one of Kenji's bloody fingers. To others, this might signify a psychotic animal, but to a seasoned Marshall, this was a confident and calculating killer plain and simple. A powerful one at that. Their clothes were indistinctive; clad in thin black leather and fabric, however, their mask was a completely different story. Almost the entirety of its face was covered. Its mouth had a tight black fabric wrapped over it, with a skeletal smile that would open, revealing the snaking pink tongue underneath. The huge back leather collar surrounding it could be zipped up to hide all but the eyes from the world. Not that the eyes could be seen either. A bone white blindfold shut them off from view. Foreign symbols were drawn in deep black on either side, with the a closed eye taking centre stage. Although it was just a drawing, that closed eye was unearving, as if the lack of sight heightened its ability to see, instead of impeding it.

Now this was a ghoul. Just by its sheer presence Haruto could tell this one was rated A, or more likely >S. Haruto couldn't deny to himself that he was intimidated, but he was a senior Marshall, and always backed himself in a one on one. He looked down at his fallen partner and gulped. First things first, get into this guys head. Haruto scanned the ghoul, looking for weaknesses that he could exploit verbally. If he was lucky, the reaction could lead to him obtaining an edge. He noticed that this ghoul was slight in stature, maybe five foot five all told.

"You wanna end up like this other piece of shit, you fucking dwarf."

This garnered absolutely nothing.

Haruto couldn't take it much longer. This creature continued to lapp at the guts of his dead partner, that were splattered over its fingers. It obviously didn't give a shit what it looked like to others. It reminded him of a cat, publically cleaning its fur and genitals with no concern for the world. It was fucking reveling in its feast, and it made Haruto's blood boil.

"You killed an innocent man. He was gonna have a family and you ripped him apart. You monsters have no fucking souls and you all belong in hell. That's where I'm gonna send you. I'm a fucking senior Marshall you stupid shit. You have no clue how badly you've fucked up."

Again, the ghoul made no sign of changing emotion, continuing to dip its fingers in Kenji and take its time eating. Haruto knew he needed something else to get into its head so he scanned again. 'Shit' he thought, as the ghost of a smile passed over his lips. The majority of its body was covered in black that mostly obscured its shape, however, his keen eyes saw that although its grey hair was tied up, it was probably quite long when undone. At its chest area, although it was probably bound, there was the hint of a slightly tented structure. The hardest one to spot was the hips. Despite them being covered by black leather shorts, those hips were a tad too wide to be a man's.

"Alright you sick fuck. I'M A COMMIN FOR YA!"

With one last drive to uncover more courage, Haruto raised his Kokaku quinque and lept towards the ghoul.

"I'M GONNA FUCK YOU UP FOR KENJI... YOU BITCH!"

As Haruto closed the distance with extreme speed, to less than two meters, the shadow of another figure dropped from the sky, landing directly next to the first. Haruto skidded to a halt, taken aback by the new masked creature. This one was certainly taller, and its face was covered by a red, horned mask. It was only as his attention slipped completely that he realised his final mistake. For the first time, the blindfolded ghoul smiled widely, the skeletal mouth parting to reveal massive bloody teeth.

The next thing Haruto knew was that he was laying down on the ground, face to the sky. His neck was warm and dripping wet. He raised his hands to his throat as the oxygen escaped his body, feeling the deep gash that was releasing his blood. The ghouls started conversing.

"Which one you want?" the first asked the newcomer.

"I don't care. You killed 'em both so you choose" the other responded dispondantly.

"Well, you're the growing boy so you take the ghoul and the first Reaper."

"Damn, well fuck me if you ain't the best big sister" uttered the male ghoul sarcastically, as he casually walked over to Kenji and the dead ghoul. "Why you taking you're mask off you sicko? The guys not even dead yet."

"I like it when they watch me" the female ghoul giggled.

Haruto saw the shadow of something passing over his head. "Ken...Ke..ji" Haruto gasped.

Suddenly, from below him came a the same giggle. "Awww dude, I think these guys were close."

"Eyeless, eat the fucker and let's go" came the voice of the male.

"Hey buddy boy, look at me will you" said the female from his feet.

Haruto craned his neck, scared of what he might see, but thinking 'fuck it' to himself. What's did he have to be afraid of, he's already dead. When he finally focused on the face he was confused. She was chewing on a leg. His leg. When the fuck did she get her dirty hands on that? When she'd finished on his leg, licking the tips of her fingers with delight, she bent down and hovered over him. Eyeless? That's what the other one had called her, but that wasn't true at all. Now that her blindfold was off he could see the entirety of her murderous giddy face.

"You're very funny" she said. "Innocent man. Gonna have a family. Its really fucking funny."

The last thing Haruto would ever see would be a testimony to her names innacuracy. Staring at him excitedly was one grey eye, so remarkably human looking it was weird. The other eye was a pool of darkness... with a violent, blood red pupil that seemed to be trying to force its way out of its black prison. She snapped up the rest of him.

"Sicko..."

End

[theangrypokemaniac]

Since I rant enough about the wizening Ma and Pa received in Sinnoh it's only right to wreak bloody rhetorical vengeance elsewhere:

However harsh it may be, I'm glad Takeshi Shudo isn't alive to witness the hateful desecration of his legacy.

...

In a universe where no one's allowed to age, why are the modern Jessie and James so withered and decrepit?

Dragon Ball has been on for more than three decades. Its stars were permitted to grow up, because the head can cope with the opportunities this offers.

Yet Goku, Krillin, Bulma et al bear a greater similarity to their younger selves than these gurning invertebrates do to Team Rocket, wearing a papery approximation of their skin.

Akira Toriyama is actually concerned about his life's work, still coming up with interesting concepts, brand-new characters, and most importantly, values his audience by keeping to the established canon.

If a Dragon Ball fan reads this, I am so jealous of you.

Consider yourselves fortunate not to have seen the thing you loved the most pulverised and the resulting glutinous mass moulded back into makeshift sloppy cadavers.

Look at the state of that man! That's a good picture these days!

Why have the eyelid lines turned into upside down bags?

And why has she collected her lashes for this particular screen shot?

On eyes with a strangely feline slant...

Has she had a face lift?

Get yer money back on that one, love.

And why has he marks under his eyes and round his flapping gob to add the hint of exhaustion?

And why don't her lips reach the edge of her mouth anymore?

And why must he display Beaver Toof, as if he's only got six pegs left?

Giving it to him but not her implies she's lost the lot, needing to gum objects for a result.

And why do her low-slung ears consist only of lobe?

And why can you see his featureless lugs? Why does his barnet stand outwards in tentacles like he's taken to wearing a floppy Starmie?

What's that's meant to be, purple dreadlocks?

And why is her hairline curved and absolutely straight, like a bad wig, apart from the perfunctory bits to the side, which I guarantee won't alter their position throughout the run?

Hair used to move about, now by law there's a set pattern which cannot change. Stamp that life out immediately.

And what's that flaccid growth between his weary peepers? Is that meant to be fringe?

PFFFT!!!

And why are her digits just as thick and oblong as his?

It ain't fingers. It's trotters.

And why's he got a back to his throat, but she hasn't?

And why are we forced to witness it? You can see all the way to his dangler!

The great gaping pink cave looks like the end of Looney Tunes when Porky Pig pops up and stammers: "That's all folks!"

Remember a lack of Beaver Toof? And triangular mouths?

Remember when Meowth was a cheeky, spirited little cat, not a middle-aged human midget, an emaciated wreck bored of it all?

Remember when it wasn't deemed necessary to expose us to internal organs?

And when James was a handsome, hysterically camp dandy, not a creepy, snot-ridden science dweeb?

And when Jessie was a beautiful, stylish young girl, hot-tempered but loyal, not a sullen, cold, reptilian, Botoxed-to-the-gills gorgon?

Remember when Team Rocket were fun? And attractive?

Remember when they had joy in their hearts in spite of their poverty? And vim? And hope?

Remember them acting with flair and imagination?

Remember when their schemes had variety?

Remember when they had more than a single disguise per era?

Remember when they had many occupations? And were good at them?

Remember when they'd have a go at everything and weren't reduced to flipping condemned meat in a grotty burger van FOR THREE YEARS?!

Remember when those in charge didn't despise them, when they got happy endings?

Remember split screens? And face faults? And background tones? And purple streaks down your cheeks?

Remember big, bright open eyes, not shrunken, sagging and empty holes afflicted by glaucoma?

Remember when Jessie had eyelashes?

Remember when Pokémon was an anime?

And when James had a fringe, not a bent swelling like a balloon animal?

And when the artist could be arsed to draw Meowth's Charm properly?

Remember when the voices weren't nails down a blackboard?

When Meowth didn't sound like a wedge of coal grinding beneath an oil-deprived door?

When Jessie's dulcet tones had a wider range that just screechy, and weren't reminiscent of a cacophonous banshee clawing her way from a bog, using her own mug as a shovel?

When James speaking didn't suggest he was at best, suffering sinus difficulties, and at worst, constantly battling to swallow his own sick from looking at her?

Mind you, I'm grateful the 4Kids cast are no longer here. They deserve better, and their presence would only validate the crude bastardisations.

Every time the guttural howls reach my poor ears a chill runs through my system, and reminds me of The Pokémon Company sacking the real dub crew in preference for a job done on the cheap.

Remember speed lines? And Pokéball-throwing animation?

Remember a new motto performance in each installment, not the same stock footage reused again and again?

Remember when it rhymed?

It shows.

Remember remembering it?

Remember when Team Rocket would walk down the street in their uniforms and no one took a blind bit of notice despite the organisation operating there?

And they didn't fanny about in one scabby polyester costume every minute they were travelling, even when NO ONE KNOWS WHO THEY ARE?

Since Unova, whilst confronting Ash and this era's soon-to-be-forgotten companions, you get this exchange:

Moron-Of-The-Week: "Who are Team Rocket?"

Ash: "They're bad guys who steal other people's Pokémon."

EVERY SINGLE BLOODY TIME!!!

WORD-FOR-WORD IDENTICAL!!!

The writers have such deep appreciation for their work they're sending in cut-and-paste scripts.

Remember blasting off when something blew up, not an explosion from nowhere, or giving it the slip with a jet pack, or abduction by a Care Bear?

Remember when the eyebrows matched the hair?

Remember when he wore it long?

Remember blue shock? And sweat drop? And hammerspace? And comedy violence?

Remember her jagged hairline? And it being RED!!!

Remember proper highlights to it, rather than the odd white lump now and again, as if sweating like a pig, or their heads are infested with giant space ticks?

Remember when they were in all the episodes? And were main characters? And on the introduction sequence?

Remember when Jessie and James used to hug? And hold hands?

And bicker as only a couple can, but you knew they'd never cope alone?

Remember when they'd fly into each other's arms under the flimsiest pretext?

Remember when they meant more to one another than just being a pair of unconnected and disembodied wraiths coincidentally walking down the same road?

And they had more than civil interactions?

Remember when she loved him as much as he loved her?

And no one else could ever take his place?

And canon wasn't infected with the ruinous depiction of her as a hard, heartless bitch barely tolerating him until someone 'better' came along, at which point she'd fuck off without a backwards glance?

'Better', as in a scabby, satchel-mouthed, gormless cretin, just to add surly insult to merciless injury.

Never has such a life-long and hardcore defender of the faith flipped into an ardent Rumishipper as I did after that episode, once I'd swept up the fragments of my soul.

Remember when they were sympathetic?

Remember when they showed human warmth?

Remember when they cared about each other?

Remember when they weren't just a jangling, distorted mess of half-recollected traits?

Remember when they weren't really evil?

Remember Rocketshipping? That was a thing once, believe it or not.

Remember when they had a conscience?

Remember when actually wicked characters turned up, and Team Rocket ALWAYS sided with Ash, rather than the nauseating spectacle of suddenly being best buds with the Boss?

Remember when they had contact with the Twerps?

Remember when Team Rocket and the Twerps loved each other in secret and would endanger themselves to save their 'enemies'?

Everything that was once good and winning about them was sucked out, degree by degree, to leave the corpse, hollow and dead, strung up on wires as a grim marionette.

I'm sure most who see this will vehemently disagree, that I'm completely wrong, that THEY like them.

Yes, you like this three, but you don't like Team Rocket. This is not them. You have yours, and I have mine, but let's not pretend they are the same.

Why, if there is no difference, would I be so hostile, when they meant so much too me?

Did you ever wonder where the original fans went, why they all departed en masse? It's not because they 'moved on' or 'matured'.

They didn't leave Pokémon. Pokémon left them.

As the makers rely so heavily on repetition (sorry, nostalgia) they arrogantly expect us to still be here, having blithely welcomed our memories minced and our canon ripped up or ripped off, apparently.

We're intended to put up with watching them lay waste to ťhe series's body, clinging on for when a rotting bone is pulled up now and again and waved at us, before they chuck it aside to continue the dismemberment.

It's been eaten from the inside out, explaining the facial collapse. Behold the beauty on show:

You see what I mean, don't you?

Don't you? No, because otherwise you'd say the same.

How anyone feels able to describe three deformed freaks as 'hot' or 'cute' I will never comprehend.

The uniform collar protrudes like a solid pipe, emphasising the pencil necks.

It gives the impression of wrinkled, leathery tortoises peering out of their shells to secure a tasty lettuce treat.

Is that pretty? No.

Is it so surprising I don't care for my favourites to resemble melted waxwork skeletons of their own dæmonic counterparts?

S&M is a most fitting name, for this is torture.

In the film Death Becomes Her, Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn vie for the attention of Bruce Willis, both taking a serum giving everlasting youth and slimness.

The catch is it confers immortality, but not invulnerability, so when pushed down the stairs Meryl survives but is dead, her neck broken, thus she's zipped up in the morgue fridge.

When Goldie is shot with a canon she too rises, internal organs blown out.

The rest of the adventure involves the pair losing the war against time, patching up and painting over peeling grey skin, holding onto loose limbs as their bodies fall apart.

This obviously is the case here. The trio lapped the potion up at the close of Sinnoh, experienced a fatal accident and are now steadily crumbling to mush before us.

According to grave-diggers the head always goes first, so there you are then.

I have a suspicion that Giovanni lured all three to his crypt, experimenting on them to engineer his ultimate super soldier, which explains their flat, plastic appearance. Those since Unova began are the cyborgs, the real ones locked in his cellar.

You may notice I have about the lowest opinion possible of the current writing team, as they deserve.

Why should I have any respect for vindictive halfwits like this, who hate Team Rocket so much they're going out of their way to distort and uglify them, expressing the resentment in celluloid?

Jessie, James and Meowth lost their only defender in Takeshi Shudo. From that point they descended from loveable, hapless tragic figures to self-parodies (Hoenn) whiney, irritating divs dumping one another at every interval (Sinnoh), robotic, amoral scum (Unova and Kalos) and now physically repulsive minor additions (Alola and Galar). Is that trajectory all accidental?

It not that it's a new 'style' (for want of a better word), as were that the case, this hideousness would apply to the entire cast, but it's only done to Team Rocket. How could that be unless motivated by malice?

Given the sub thesps are obliged to prostrate themselves in the dust, begging fans to make their appreciation known, it smacks of desperation.

They wouldn't need to ask that were the trio treated as an integral component. They must sense the objections and are thus drumming up support to avoid the dole queue.

Are those in charge so resentful of their presence it manifests in mutilating them, keen to do anything that may alienate the fanbase, so at the first sign of a dip in popularity they can leap upon it as the perfect excuse to write Team Rocket out?

Why be surprised? These are imbeciles who reject their own canon at the close of every generation, so why care about someone else's?

If people have to harangue the writers with grovelling praise of their retcons, rehashes and all-round twatting about, butter 'em up sufficiently, with the implied threat of deserting the franchise should Team Rocket be ejected, taking their purses too, all so the smug, avaricious berks deign to put the trio in the next generation, that proves they don't want them, so how can what they write for their characters be objectively of any worth?

Team Rocket would've departed by now, were there not a palpable worry their absence might ring the death knell of the whole thing, turning off the financial tap, which is what matters.

Therefore they are retained, grudgingly, and only so long as the clamour continues at its current decibel level. If that drops it's over, and don't expect a romantic resolution. Why should pleasing you be a concern when you're to leave with them?

Ask yourself: how much of your devotion is based on what they are right now, and how much is from who they used to be?

How long can they live off past glories?

The offences done in Unova and Kalos were bad enough, but remarkably Game Freak found further depths to plumb, therefore it can only get worse.

I have of course retained the loveliest for last:

Be still, my beating heart.

No, really, be still. Stop infact. 

Planet of the Apes.

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Ten

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Simple and Complex

"Twas early one morning a fair maid arose,

And slipped away with her lover's clothes,

And off to the fields a sure she goes

With naught e'na kiss in the morning early."

An unwilling smile pulled at Lyrra's lips as she smothered a sigh and attempted to pay her bard no mind. She finished hanging a few freshly laundered shirts and trousers as she listened to his approach. She had slipped out of her cottage long before Jaskier had woken. A basket of laundry in hand as she went to the stream – Geralt had roused enough from his place by her hearth to note her exit but seemed incline to rest longer himself. She was grateful for the solitude. It gave her a chance to gather her thoughts and calm the whirlwind that Jaskier had incited in her. She needed the distance and the time to figure out -

"Are you really just going to ignore me?"

Him.

Lyrra glanced around the shirt she was pinning up with a raised brow to see him standing proudly with his hands on his hips, "Did you say something?"

Jaskier narrowed his gaze at her in an odd mix of exasperation and amusement, "Lyrra."

"Jaskier." She intoned and bit back a smirk as he huffed.

A sly glint entered his eyes as he began to sing again.

"The bard arose and he discovered her sin,

His heart and his song composed quite the din."

Lyrra could not help the faint laugh that left her as she listened to him. Puckish amusement danced in his blue orbs as he sidled up next to her and slid an arm around her waist.

"And he had the will for to greet her so slim

With a kiss in the morning early."

She didn't need the last line of his song to see the kiss coming. A quiet sigh left her as she welcomed his familiar embrace. Her skin still tingled with the memory of their coupling and the calm she had achieved was swiftly thwarted by his touch. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

Jaskier smiled contentedly at her, "Good morning."

"It's afternoon, you slept the morning away." Lyrra replied lightly as she moved her basket under the tree her clothesline was tethered on, "And I'm rather sure those aren't the words to that song."

"Ehh, I'm a bard, pretty much gives me free rein to change the words." Jaskier shrugged. His keen eyes cataloged her every move, "You should've slept the morning away too. You were up as long as I was."

As if to prove his point, Lyrra found herself swallowing a yawn. In all actuality, she had been up longer than he had. Her mind had not been able to let the events of the night settle and her dreams had taken a dark turn once she had drifted off. She still wasn't sure what had come over her in that bathing chamber, she was never that bold. Yet, bold was the only way to describe her actions from the time he entered until...well. A blush rose to her cheeks and she could see a salacious grin crossing Jaskier's lips from her periphery at the sight. He knew well where her mind had gone.

"Stop it." She murmured lowly, refusing to look in his direction.

"Stop what?" His tone dripped with quiet laughter.

"You know what." She glowered faintly at him and wished that she still had a few shirts to pin to the line, if only to have something to do besides stare at him.

He tilted his head and his mirthful smile continued to tease her as he said, "You are adorably shy in the light of day. I do hope that I never make you stop blushing."

It was her turn to huff, "Jaskier."

He chuckled quietly and reached for her again, "Now what happened to the woman who had her wicked way with me last night, hmm?"

Lyrra was sure her face was scarlet now at his words as she allowed him to draw her close again, "She came to her senses."

"That sounds...not good." Jaskier murmured as he tilted her chin up and frowned bemusedly at her, "I suppose it's time we actually have that talk."

Lyrra shifted awkwardly under his gaze as she ruefully wondered which talk he was referring to, their tryst or her back. Neither was a conversation she particularly wanted to have, if for completely different reasons. She had been grateful when the topic had fallen to the wayside upon returning to her cottage.

She forced a smile when she realized she was taking too long to respond, "That talk."

"Yes, the one you've been trying to figure out how to avoid since I brought it up last night." Jaskier uttered faintly amused as she looked away somewhat sheepishly and bit back a sigh, "Believe it or not, not a conversation I want to have either, but as fun, as our little dance has been... we do need to -"

He waved his hand about as he tried to find the right words. Lyrra took pity on him as her smile turned a little more genuine, "Clear the air? Create some boundaries? Form an understanding?"

Jaskier nodded, "Yes, that. That would be good."

Lyrra stifled a giggle as she saw her nerves reflected in his expression. It amazed her how he could go from unerringly confident to uncertain in a matter of seconds, especially around her. She was not someone to be nervous around. Her fingers itched with the need to touch him, reassure him. The impulse to soothe his quiet anxiety was strong and unexpected. She wasn't a tactile person by any means, she usually went out of her way to avoid being touched. Jaskier was her opposite in this manner, he felt everything, like an overgrown toddler. He picked up, played, listened, and sometimes tasted everything with which he came into contact. He took comfort in touch, she knew this implicitly.

As if to prove her unspoken point, he seemed to sense her reluctance and reached out to caress her cheek, "What is it? Talk to me."

"It's nothing – I just...I tend to get carried away with you."

Jaskier raised a brow as he prodded her to continue, "And that's a bad thing?"

"It's not like me." She mumbled quietly and resisted the urge to fidget. She didn't know how to explain to him the maelstrom he made her feel. How she found him both comforting and disconcerting. How she allowed him more liberties than anyone since...since ever.

"Again, that's a bad thing?" He was more curious now than concerned. Jaskier had been far from surprised when he had woken to find her gone... simply disappointed. He was quickly beginning to learn that avoidance was his lover's instinctual response to anything that made her -

"It's an uncomfortable thing." Lyrra grimaced.

Uncomfortable. He smiled gently at her, at least she was somewhat aware of her tendencies, "You know, I typically don't do serious."

Lyrra blinked at the strange segue, "Really? Hadn't noticed."

He bit back a laugh at her dry tone as he made his point, "Serious is complicated and boring and messy. I like easy and fun, simple... but you, my lovely Lyrra, you are very complicated and serious. But I can say with absolute certainty you are not boring. You make me curious."

She merely stared at him still unsure where he was going with his little lecture.

"Curious. Confused. Uncomfortable." Jaskier answered placing a special emphasis on that last word, "No, strike that – you don't make me uncomfortable; you make me uncertain. None of that is necessarily a bad thing, you know?"

"Hasn't been my experience." Lyrra replied softly.

"No, I suppose it hasn't." His fingers brushed across her back and the brand he now knew rested there and she tensed at the reminder, "I don't think that I make you uncomfortable, either. I think it's that you enjoy yourself with me that discomfits you. Tell me you didn't enjoy yourself last night."

Her cheeks burned and she couldn't meet his eyes as she fumbled for a response, "I... you know, I did."

"Do you want to do it again?" He asked quietly and linked his fingers with hers.

Lyrra felt her stomach flutter at the question as she tried vainly to ignore the heat that rushed through her veins, "...yes."

"So do I." He murmured softly and unconsciously leaned into her, "Is that really so unsettling?"

Her grey eyes were drawn to his lips, "...yes. You unsettle me, Jaskier."

"How?"

"I crave you. I've known you barely a fortnight." Lyrra whispered, not missing the desirous look that entered his eyes at her words, "And I crave your kisses and your touch... even your voice. I don't crave people. I don't know what to do with you."

"I think you know exactly what to do with me." He couldn't help the tease that left his tongue even as she hit his arm, "Ow."

Vaguely annoyed, she attempted to pull away from him again, but he refused to let her step back. "Alright, okay. I'm sorry. I don't do serious, remember? It's just... this doesn't have to be hard, it can be simple."

Lyrra sighed frustrated, "Nothing about this is simple."

"Only because you're making it complicated." Jaskier pointed out somewhat humorously, "We already agreed to not get married and after last night, I think we're agreed we can't be merely friends. Especially, since we both admitted we want a repeat..." His words slowly caught up with him and he offered her an acknowledging nod, "Right, we may be a little complicated."

Lyrra snorted and shook her head at him. He was utterly ridiculous and she adored it despite herself, "Let me make this simple. I like you, Jaskier. That's simple. You like me back, that's simple too. Last night was great and yes, I want it to happen again, but I'm not sure that it should."

"Why?" He breathed the questioned startled.

The possibility of them not continuing their affair had not occurred to the bard, she could see that plainly and sighed again, "In a day, a week, sometime rather soon you're going to be gone, Jaskier... And I don't - I don't want to miss you."

He looked like he had been struck and Lyrra tried not to wince under his stare or to follow after him when he stepped away. She felt cold at his abrupt distance. Perhaps, she had worded that too harshly. Guilt twisted in her gut as she silently pleaded with him to understand what she couldn't say.

"Right." A bitter laugh escaped him, "Oh, avoidance should really be your middle name, Lyrrana."

"Jaskier-"

"No." He shook his head and cut her off, "You don't want to miss me? That's shit, if ever I heard it. Let's reword that, shall we? What you really mean to say is: Jaskier, you're going to hurt me, so let's not even bother."

A stone sank with a ferocious crash in her stomach as his words and gaze scolded her like an unruly child. She wanted to be angry with him, but he wasn't entirely wrong. She stared helplessly, not sure how to respond or even if she should.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I really should've rented that room for us last night." He murmured almost sadly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Lyrra."

She swallowed tightly, "I know..."

"Do you?!" His disbelief seared her and she found she couldn't meet his gaze any longer, "Do I scare you, Lyrra? Last night did I -"

"No. No, Jaskier." Lyrra interrupted before he could finish his question, "I wanted last night. You didn't push me or force me."

Jaskier stared at her as he replayed everything he had said and done in that bathing chamber. A slow realization began to creep on him, "But I did scare you."

"No."

Despite the certainty in her voice, he knew it was a lie. It wasn't physical intimacy that was causing Lyrra's hesitance over their affair, it was emotional, "I did. When I saw your back. When I demanded you let me in, I scared you."

Lyrra's lips tightened into a thin line as she glared at him, "No."

Jaskier didn't seem to hear her as he muttered, "How am I attracted to the most emotionally stunted people on the bloody Continent?"

"Jaskier." She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Can we forget this conversation and go back to where you kissed me good morning?"

He looked as frustrated as she felt as he, in turn, uttered, "No. I promised you last night we go at your pace, not mine... I'll see if I can get my room back at the inn."

"You don't have to." Lyrra started softly.

Jaskier forced a smile at her and she hated it, "Yeah, I do. I think we both need our space. Simpler this way."

She went to protest further, but he cut her off once again.

"Oh...one more thing." A determined expression marred his visage as he swept back into her space and pressed his lips to hers. Lyrra gasped faintly at the sudden contact and he stole the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Unconsciously, her hands rose to tangle in his hair as he backed her against the trunk of the tree. A fiery thrill rushed through her veins as coherent thought left her and all she could do was cling to him as she simply felt.

She felt his warmth and the subtle strength in his body as he pressed against her. She felt his almost desperate grip on her hips and tasted his passion as he took his fill. He hadn't kissed her like this before... He was usually gentle, curious, searching, but this was demanding, almost possessive, it was dizzying. It wasn't until she completely melted into his touch that he pulled away and pressed his head to hers.

A smug gleam sparkled in his eyes, "That's what I thought too."

Utter confusion descended on Lyrra as she stared at him, "What?"

His smile was even smugger, "The thing about having this talk is that declaring our intentions goes both ways. I'll stay at the inn, but I fully intend to end up back in your bed and if I happen to fall into your heart, all the better. You don't get to ignore me. You don't get to be afraid of me, Lyrra. I'm not that scary."

No, he was terrifying.

He stole one more kiss before starting his trek to the cottage. Lyrra was left bewildered to stare after him. She shouted out the only thing that came to mind before he got too far, "This is far from simple!"

Jaskier spun on his heel and grinned, "Yeah, but I already told you – you're complicated. And I like you. Besides, I'm not that easy to get rid of, ask Geralt."

He disappeared around the bend a second later and Lyrra covered her face in disbelief, "He's absolutely mad."

»»————-　　————-««

Geralt felt a headache coming on as he headed back towards the woods. Enough time had passed since he had last checked the clearing that whoever had created the mutated fleders would have had the chance to find their corpses. He hoped anyway. Otherwise, he would need to figure out another way to track down those creature's creator and that meant spending more time in the Toussaint countryside than he was comfortable. Especially, now that Jaskier and Lyrra were...

He didn't know what the fuck those two were doing.

Which in part was why he had a headache now. Jaskier had been gathering his things when he had left the cottage, muttering under his breath about being drawn to emotionally constipated people.

Geralt didn't ask.

He would really rather not know.

What he had gleaned was that they were getting rooms at the inn. Despite his earlier protestations about overstaying their welcome in Lyrra's home, he wasn't looking forward to dealing with the general populace again. He pushed the thought aside as he moved quietly through the brush. The smell of rot had only become heavier in the days that followed and he no longer needed to follow his tracks back to the clearing. The other change was the faint buzzing of flies that filled his ears. The fleders decomp had attracted more insects. His teeth clenched as he resigned himself to the fact that the creator of the two beasts either had not bothered to look for them or the corpses hadn't been discovered yet.

There certainly hadn't been any talk amongst the locals about the discovery of two fleder corpses. He sighed as he stepped fully out of the woods and casually observed the clearing again. The flesh was almost completely gone from the fleders now... wait...fleder. One. Geralt tilted his head and eyed the shadows behind the first corpse. He wasn't mistaken there was only one body now. The other was gone.

He strode forward and bent to study the ground. There were drag marks, but that could have been from an animal dragging the body away for food. Yet, he found that scenario unlikely. Most scavengers could sense a potentially dangerous meal. The venom the fleder created would likely have made it toxic to any creature that attempted to eat it.

More silently than he had entered the clearing, he exited following the tracks. Even then, he could have followed his nose the stench was so bad. Whoever or whatever had come to claim the body had done so recently. It wasn't long before he stumbled onto a narrow path.

The trees had thinned and he could make out neatly organized rows of barren grape vines through the foliage. He must have been on the edge of one of the vineyards. Frowning, he continued on his hunt. Geralt noted the unnatural stillness in the air as he walked. He heard no birds or little critters scurrying through the brush. There were no distant sounds of farmhands, not even a breeze of wind to stir the leaves. A familiar twinge in his gut had him ill at ease, he wasn't the only predator afoot.

He must have walked a quarter-mile when he did finally hear it. It was low and shrill like an out of tune string on a lute. A song. Someone was singing. His twinge turned into a solid sinking instinct as he had a good assumption of what he was about to discover. His hand twitched for his sword as he dimly realized he had not brought the silver one with him. He had anticipated a human threat, not a monster. Geralt knew he had a choice to make – he could continue on and have his assumptions proven correct, but be ill-equipped to deal with the threat or he could head back and return later to a threat that had potentially disappeared.

Sighing quietly, he drew his sword and bent to pull a small silver dagger from his boot. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He skirted to the edge of the path as he moved like a stalking cat around the bend. His golden eyes missed nothing as he took in the dilapidated ruins of an old manor. Past the tumbled walls he could make out the form of a woman. Her singing was louder now as she hunched over the rotted form of the missing fleder. A bruxa.

He watched for a moment as the bruxa continued to sing. Her head tilted back enough that he could see what appeared to be tears streaming down her cheeks as she caressed the festered corpse. Geralt frowned in confusion.

Had the bruxa made the fleders? Was that even possible?

It wasn't unheard of for bruxae to hunt in packs, but he had never known a bruxa to bother with a fleder. The creatures were usually too stupid and wild to be of notice to the high order vampires.

A low grumbling sounded behind him and Geralt stiffened. It seemed fate had taken his choice from his hand. He whipped around to see a very alive, very hungry looking fleder. The commotion had garnered the attention of the bruxa and her song turned into a screeching cry.

"Fuck." Geralt muttered.

Previous Chapter     Next Chapter

[neondnp]

my ii m&g experience ♥

(long rambling and pic spam ahead)

arriving + waiting in line

prior to and upon arriving at the venue, i was SO incredibly nervous to the point that it nearly overpowered my excitement. my heart had been racing all week and my stomach was in knots. i’d been anticipating this very day for almost a year and i was absolutely terrified that something would go wrong. i kept having thoughts like, “what if there’s a ton of unexpected traffic backed up for hours and i miss the meet and greet?” “what if there’s something wrong with my ticket??” “what if i forget something important and i’m denied access?” “what if i DIE before i get there!?” luckily, none of my delusional fears from my panicked state of mind came true and most of my anxiety disappeared after i was given my wristband.

meeting and conversing with the lovely new friends i made in line put me at enough ease that my ability to comprehend the intense reality of the situation was beginning to vanish. everything was too dreamlike to feel real. was i really mere minutes away from meeting my idols??

suddenly, everyone started screaming. i looked up and saw phil standing at the rail. i nearly had a damn heart attack!! that’s phil! he literally looks like an angel! i heard dan’s voice from the other corner and turned around to see him right above us! that’s dan!! he glows! o m g !! there they are!! in person! holy s*** that’s actually them!!! whatever they said to us either completely went over my head or was entirely forgotten because i don’t recall any of it. this was the most surreal moment of my life.

shoutout to the girl on twitter who filmed some of this and caught my reaction after they waved and left lmao

i guess this is what my mind being completely blown looks like??!?

my adrenaline was through the roof, but i was too stupefied to feel emotional yet. my throat was drying as the line in front of me gradually got shorter. the lack of air conditioning upstairs didn’t help. i was close enough to talk to marianne (a queen, btw) about what i wanted to give them. i had a letter from a friend and two of my ii themed d&p drawings that i made into magnets. she told me she would keep them and give them to dan and phil after the meet and greet. disappointing, but understandable. i wrote my name on the magnets but they won’t have a clue who i am. oh well. here’s what they look like:

before i knew it, it was my turn to meet them. a friend i met in line agreed to film my meet and greet but was too nervous to do so once we approached our turns. although it sucks to not have footage, i fully understand having anxiety. she’s very sweet and i’d never want to cause her any stress.

the actual meeting and greeting:

before i get into the personal details and talk about my interaction with them, i’ll describe their irl voices and appearances. 

i’d say they sound exactly the same in person. they don’t necessarily look any different from how they do in pictures and videos, just more radiant; especially phil. his hair somehow looks even darker irl and there’s an indescribably beautiful contrast between his black hair, vibrant eyes, and pale skin. it makes him look otherworldly. his features are sharp. dan’s stubble is actually quite prominent, even from a distance. his features are soft. there’s not really much else to say about his appearance; he’s just as gorgeous in the flesh as he is on a screen. they were just as tall as i expected them to be so i wasn’t alarmed by their height. it did, however, feel different to look up at them and see them from a new (significantly lower) angle as opposed to seeing them from an eye-level camera angle. the same can be said about viewing them on stage from a close orchestra seat.

now, onto the good part! i wish i could remember more details, but meeting them was such a blur that i didn’t feel like it even happened at all until the next day (more on that later). most of my dreams are more vivid than this memory is. my brain was majorly lagging from the moment i was far enough ahead in line to be off the stairs, and my entire consciousness seemed to exist in some alternate dimension when i walked toward their direction to be greeted. i remember one or both of them saying, “hiii!” and dan saying “thanks for coming to see us!” i remember phil instantly opening his arms and asking if i wanted a hug. i think i said, “hi! yes i do!” i remember it being so much easier to talk to them than i thought it would be. words came naturally despite having very little awareness of what i was saying and—due to being in such a daze—completely forgetting to say any of the important things i’ve always wanted to tell them. they were both so warm, gentle, and welcoming. i was too out of it to realize this at the time, but looking back, they treated me like i was an old friend of theirs; like i was someone who mattered. that warms my heart. they genuinely care about making us feel comfortable and relaxed.

dan did most of the talking. i don’t remember what either of their hugs felt like, but i do remember dan giving me one of his awkward “dan hugs” lol. dan and i were both wearing striped shirts and he said that we were “totally coordinated with our stripes” which made me WAY happier than it should have, but oh man i was BEAMING. “we are!”

when phil asked if i’d like to have something signed, i took out a print of the two portraits i drew of them. “yes, can you sign my art please?” after handing the print to them, dan said, “oh my god did you draw these??” and i responded with something dumb like, “i did! it took me like my entire life but yeah!!” i really wish i could have seen them react to my drawings, but i didn’t think to look at their faces when i showed them. in fact, i’m not even sure if i made eye contact with them at all. they complimented me on my art but i don’t remember what they said. i'm not 100% certain, but i think dan called it incredible.

dan offered to take the selfie so i handed him my phone and we all got close and smiled for the camera. i noticed from other people’s meet and greet pics that phil had a tendency to lean his head in next to fans, but i’d of course forgotten about this detail. i was so weak later on when i saw how close our faces were in the group photo, w o w !! i asked if we could take individual pictures as well and dan said, “of course!”

this is the part i remember the most clearly. taking individual pictures was almost like hugging them again, only better because i was a little more aware—i was almost able to actually process it this time. looking at them you’d expect to feel nothing but firmness and bones, but they’re both delightfully squishy; especially dan. they’re two tall adorable teddy bears. dan fondly said, “thank you philip” when phil took our picture and it was the cutest thing. after the pictures were taken, i thanked them for about the tenth time. i remember saying “thank you” and “thank you so much” to almost everything they said and did. i probably would have thanked them if they accidentally stepped on my foot or dropped my phone. they told me to enjoy the show and i thanked them once more. i wished them a good show and at some point i think i said, “it was really nice meeting you.” we waved and said our goodbyes to each other.

and then it was over.

wait, it’s over. what the hell just happened?

i literally forgot everything on the spot.

everything happened so rapidly and it ended before i had even begun to take any of it in. i really wish i could have absorbed the moment more. i wish i could have said more. this may sound silly, but none of it felt real. it didn’t initially feel like, “aah i just met dan and phil!!” instead, it felt more like, “...did i really meet dan and phil? wouldn’t i have remembered meeting them if it really happened?” i was so disappointed in myself. how was i that spaced out the whole time? i expected a more emotional experience, but it was all so surreal that i wasn’t even in touch with reality, let alone with my emotions. i didn’t know how to react, so i blanked out into a strange semiconscious state and i hated myself for it. 

i went on to realize that meeting them was indeed a very emotional experience; i just needed to fully recover from my daze for it to hit me. while most of my memory is still a blur, several small details came back to me the following day bit by bit. it was enough for me to look back on and miss. it took me days to recall everything i wrote about above. i did cry. i was emotionally impacted, just not right away. it had to catch up with me. meeting them was absolutely amazing. looking at my pictures and signed artwork elates me. i actually met dan and phil!

even though i didn’t say what i wanted to, i’m grateful that i managed to talk to them at all. i was so sure i’d either stumble over my words or end up speaking in my stupid high-pitched nervous voice. i was also afraid i’d cry in front of them and i didn’t. it went smoothly and i survived. i have a few regrets, but i still loved it. i loved them.

i’d do it again in a heartbeat.

yes i was very extra with the editing but these pics mean a lot to me and i wanted them to look the best they could

what i didn’t get to say: 

@danielhowell @amazingphil thank you for inspiring so much creativity, motivation, and passion within me. you guys are the reason i wanted to start drawing again. you’re the reason why i stopped immediately giving up. you’re the reason i’ve met so many spectacular people and became part of such a diverse and extraordinary community. you guys give me a reason to smile. i love you, thank you for everything ♥ - alexis

[sockatine]

The Scent of Lavender

((My first self insert fanfic to be posted here! I'll be using the name Califia "Cali" Morales for myself. Paired up with Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead. Takes place in season 2.))

Light. Sunlight? Yes, that's sunlight. The room is white. Why is it white?

Voices are talking to her. Who are these voices? Obviously they must be her family; mom and dad, to be precise. Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, yawning and stretching, still not completely awake or aware. Even as her eyes fully opened, she had to rub them again. These people's voices still washing over her like white noise, or nighttime ambiance.

Nothing was registering quite yet, until an old man sat at her bedside and asked, in a comforting and gentle tone. "Can you tell us your name?"

That's when it all hit her. With watering eyes, she asked: "Where am I?"

...

When they found this girl passed out in the woods, it was nothing short of strange. She'd fallen out of a tree at Rick's feet, startling him. He checked her pulse, shook her in attempt to wake her up, but nothing. She was still perfectly alive, minus perhaps starving and bruised. And he carried her back to the RV, deciding it was the right thing to do. After all, Rick himself had been in a coma and woken up to an apocalypse. This was a personal sense of sympathy in him.

Needless to say, after much argument, she was allowed to stay. They put her in the bed of the RV and hoped that at some point, she'd come to. Enter their arrival at Hershel's, having one kid shot and the other still missing, along with the mysterious coma-girl. This was enough to get Hershel to allow them all to stay until everything with the group was a-okay.

Now, that she had finally woken up, she'd have to be comforted a bit before getting any answers. It's not like anyone would take it very well when they find they've been in a coma in a tree for god knows how long. "I'm gonna ask you again, and I want you to take a deep breath or two before you answer; What is your name?"

She did take a few deep breaths, as needed. "Califia..."

"Califia?"

"Yes... Califia Morales."

"Alright, Miss. Now, I'm gonna call in the people that found you, so you can give them the answers they want. Is that okay with you?"

"... yes."

Really, it wasn't. None of this was okay, but she knew she needed to give answers to the people who potentially saved her life. The memories were flooding back to her once Hershel called in Rick and some others to meet her. Rick was of course, the one to ask questions and recieve answers.

"Do you remember what happened before you got yourself up in that tree?"

"... There was a crash. A bus crash. A-and I... I don't remember what happened after. I-I know my family wasn't with me, they... don't live in Georgia..."

"Alright. What else do you remember?"

"I... was by myself. Out by myself... dead people were walking a-and hunting me..."

"Uh-huh..."

"I killed some. I tried calling my parents a-and... and-and-"

A deep inhale, and a pause.

"... I kept walking. I lived off what was in my bag, and gathering wild plants. More dead people came and, I went up the tree... but I don't know why I was asleep... I don't..."

"Hey, hey. Don't worry about that. We'll... we'll get you settled. Once we leave, you'll be coming with us."

"I... thanks. Can I go outside now?"

"Yeah, yeah sure."

...

She was sitting by herself, gathering some lavender after a nice, long cry. It was a lot to take in, really. That she had no idea how her family in California was doing. And it would be easier for her to cope with having been all alone, than to realize she'd been completely useless to a group of people who were kind enough to save her. How long had she been dead weight? Was it ungrateful to believe she should've died.

"What's that 'cha got?"

She almost flinched, turning to see some guy looming over her. Must've been one of the group. "... Lavender."

"You always go 'round pickin flowers?"

"It's for tea... I'm sorry, have we met, or...?"

"I'm Daryl."

"Califia. But call me Cali. It's, uh... nice to meet you."

She stood up, holding her hand out for a handshake. Better than just awkwardly talking, crouching over a bush. Daryl shook it, to at least adding something to keep the conversation from getting too awkward. "So, we found you in a tree..."

"Uh, yeah. I... eheh. I guess I figured it was a good way to avoid walkers. They can't seem to climb for shit, really. So, uhm... is there l-like a job or something I should be getting to, or-"

"Hell if I know."

"O-oh. Well, if you need anything... like, anything at all, I'm right here..."

"Right..."

Daryl left ger to her business.

"Oh, uh... it was nice meeting you!" She added. He didn't respond.

Daryl hadn't much of an opinion on her. She seemed nice enough, but frankly he hadn't any idea how good or bad of an addition she'd be. And frankly, nothing she did or said was anything remarkable, noteworthy, or eyecatching. Cali, as she insisted on being called, was short, pudgy, baby faced, and from every other angle Daryl could see, she looked like walker bait. At least she was smart enough to get in a tall place to avoid them, but perhaps she might not be much for fighting back or wilderness survival.

Nonetheless, he'd be willing to see if she could prove herself. It's not like she's useless.

A few days went by, and Daryl noticed a pattern. When given chores by the other members of the group, Cali would attend to them quietly without ever wanting help. Her voice was always soft and meek when she asked for anything, which was rare in itself. Without fail, around dusk, Cali was always sitting at the lavender bush. Either to pick more, or to sit with a notebook. A diary? And she was drinking that tea she said the lavender was for at night, but also in certain times in the afternoon.

Lavender tea was for sleep, and calming nerves. Daryl knew this because of his mom's old remedies she'd use, when he was just a kid.

So far, he'd deducted that Cali was dead meat if she were to go out on her own. She could make it for a certain amount of time, but her nerves would get the best of her and make her clumsy. Ergo, she's walker bait.

...

It was getting lonely, for Cali. She fancied being alone, but not being lonely. But she was tragically insecure; unwilling to talk about her interests with the other ladies, unable to even approach any of the men. The closest she could get was watching Carl when Lori wasn't, and neither one of them actually talked much to her. So logically, Cali wanted some validation out of being useful.

To be frank, the only person Cali really considered approaching and making friends with was Daryl. He also seemed to be partial to being alone, after all. But it's not like he would ever want to activately be friends with her anyway, right? Cali wrote and drew, she was into books and fantasy and mythology. She was a nerd. A total geek. And what was Daryl? Manly as hell, outdoorsy, and a goddamn hunter.

That didn't change the fact though, that when Daryl finally came back with Sophia's doll, Cali was most certainly concerned. She could see him from her lavender bush, he looked absolutely terrible. And it didn't help that Andrea shot him, to which Cali promptly responded with a "What the fuck!?" of disbelief.

As everyone rushed over to help, Cali wasn't really needed. She asked, but Rick told her that all too familiar phrase: "We got this, thanks." But no, she didn't want to be excluded. She wanted to at least do something. To overtly express that she wanted to help and be part of the group; but so far it had all gone from her being too afraid to talk to anyone, to everyone excluding her by assuming she didn't care for anyone.

So Cali decided to do something about it. At least one thing. One nice thing for someone.

So she visited Daryl, inside Hershel's house. With a small gift. Some lavender, with a paper wrapped around it. While he was asleep, she slipped it onto the nightstand.

...

"Hey, Cali!"

She was at the lavender bush again, with her notebook, whipping around to see Daryl holding her gift. "Y-yeah?"

"... you wrote this? Daryl unfolded the paper. It was a poem:

You carry us far Through all your scars Of old and new, Through sun and stars

Take your rest Feel happiness For it's worthwhile to us all

"... Is it bad?"

Daryl sighed in disbelief, taking a seat next to her. "Nah, that ain't it..."

"I didn't mean to bother you, I just wanted to get you a get well-"

"Why though?" "Huh?"

"You're always sitting out here. You got you're notebook, your head in the clouds. Ya don't talk to nobody-"

"I'm sorry."

"-and you apologize for it. What the hell do you do out here?"

She paused, stuck between just dying on the spot or coughing up the notebook. "I... draw. And I write." She handed the notebook to him, so he could go through it himself.

In it were various practice sketches, poems, characters, and unfinished stories. It was a chaotic mess of creation, full of concepts and ideas that may never be fully fleshed out. "It's just weird nerdy stuff... I-I really like mythology, and uh... comics..."

"... This is what you were hiding all this time?" "Yeah..."

Daryl closed the notebook, handing it back to Cali.

"... What use you think any of that has, anyway?"

"I... wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean now that dead people are walking around eating people. How's any of that gonna help?"

Cali paused, thinking for a moment. Not necessarily on what to answer, but rather how to word the answer out. Such a question wasn't one that confused her very much.

"... Well, we got survival down. If we're hungry, we can pick plants and kill animals. If we're tired, we can make a shelter that's safe. But... what's the point of it all?"

"... That doesn't answer my question."

She gave him a look. For once, it was a more assertive look; like what she was about to say was something painfully obvious. Like he should have known, by now. "Animals survive. Humans live. And what's the point of surviving if you can't live?" She tapped her notebook. "This here is... how I live."

Cali opened up the notebook, flipping to a page in which she was drawing a kraken. "So that's why I'm always here with my notebook. It's quiet so I can focus, and it smells nice with the lavender here. So there."

The conversation ended there, and she expected Daryl to once again take his leave. But, he didn't. He was still sitting there, watching her doodle away. Her drawing wasn't particularly amazing, but... it was okay. He could tell she wasn't actually paying him much mind. Just, focused on her work. But Cali knew he was there, watching. She just had yet to realize she was fine with it.

And they just kind of stayed like that for a while. Sitting in silence at the lavender bush.

((Special thanks to @kiksselfships for encouraging me most to embrace my self insertion, and @skollwriting for giving me the match up that inspired this new ship))

[adversary777]

ENTRY 1: EXTENDED DESCRIPTION I am the Adversary. You may know me from my comments on YouTube under the name "MonsterKingCalamity". I'm a high ranking Daemon whose been incarnated in this human body as a "Demi-Demon" by my family/people/world. Ive come to completely annihilate human society as we know it for good, and bring about great change. I work with Daemons(Humanly known as Demons), Aliens, and Monsters (A broad term for "Mysteious Beings" or "Cryptids", and for me a great term of endearment! Demons are just one BIG class of monster) 

I myself have been set on a powerful path to becoming a VERY key monster in the Closing War. As you can tell I am strongly against humanity and one of the Daemon Star’s most loyal agents. I have many reasons for this and can explain in far greater detail if anyone wishes to discuss it. 

I’m actually here for a greater reason though. Due to my design (as a being), affiliation, and overall state of being lol. I live in near-complete isolation from human society. As much as can be managed at least. I sacrificed my place in it to fulfill my duty and reduce the human ugliness I hate most in the universe. I realized that I’d never be happy here forever stuck in this “pseudo-human” form. My soul cries out for me to follow my destined path like the hundred screaming mouths of some beautiful cosmic nightmare singing glorious in the farthest reaches of the universe 🖤 My despair, hatred, sadness, irritation, loneliness, confusion, and fear has become my (soon to be) Absolute Power. The ingredients needed to make a human-monster/daemon are as such after all lol. That means a daemon/monster who started out human. However! My situation isn’t quite the same. As I mentioned earlier I have been INCARNATED in this body. I was always one of them & am in fact one of their absolute highest ranking! But the unfortunate downside to incarnation is completely loss of all memories and to start in a sort of “Clean Slate” state of being. However, if you follow the destined path they lay out, you can become your true self again. Takes a lot of work and its a VERY RARE situation. Not to mention it’s usually done by mid tier daemons. They don’t have as titanic a duty to carry out, and unfortunately usually never truly awaken. Their human & Daemon halves remain split in two til the day they die.

Thus is the HIGHLY damaging effect of truly integrating into Human Society. 

Where I’m going with this is actually simple. Im here to find/draw in more of my own kind, awakened human allies, and anything else unnamed here that can help farther my cause. I know so much already and have come so so far. However I am not complete yet. Not by a longshot...And I’ve been a practitioner of magick/energy manipulation/somaferan combat/etc for just shy of 11 years now. 

Thats why I need the help of YOU, my fellow Inhumans. Primordially Gifted Beings who have been disposed of & cast out by society. Labeled as Humanitys Garbage. And have in turn been granted the absolutely incredibly dark knowledge & power you need to TRULY reach out and take what you desire. To TRULY make humanity regret its disgusting, unforgivable actions against its own, and our kind.  I want to learn from YOU! Teach me things ive never heard of, never tried, or could never scrape up enough data/SPECIFIC answers from. My people tell me a LOT! But they cant do EVERYTHING for me. They want me to learn from my own experiences here too. Doing so is vital to carrying out my task.

I will post the data on my pseudo-human form in the next entry so you can really get to know me on another level too. 

~Adversary Calamity

[thestefidelly]

SUBJECT 204 (Chapter Five)

(fanfic) (ao3) (chapter one)

Story Summary: Belle is accepted into an exclusive internship at a facility that studies supernatural occurrences, gifted individuals and cryptids. Something about their methods rubs Belle the wrong way, but she tries to let it slide… until she finds out about Subject 204. [RedBeauty, very possible Swan Queen, Maybe Sleeping Warrior] [Regina, Emma and Mulan will be key characters either way]

Notes:  Thanks again to everyone who faved and/or reviewed. I appreciate it a lot! In today's chapter, we get a bit more Ruby, and a little bit of Mulan. Tomorrow will be when Emma finally makes her entrance.

Did they brighten the lights in her room?

She squinted and tried to bury her face in her arms. A pillow or blanket to hide under would be nice, but they gave her some excuse about how it could be a danger to her. All she had was a plain bed that was more of a thinly cushioned metal slab bolted to the wall than anything else. Sometimes she actually preferred sleeping under it than on it, to hide from the bright lights.

There was a reason for the lights being so bright in her quarters, but she couldn't recall what it was.

Grumbling, she fidgeted with the collar around her neck. The chain hooked to it was bolted to her bed. Likewise, the chains attached to her cuffs ended with her bed.

They usually gave enough slack in her chains to let her pace her room and even go under the bed. It was more so she couldn't lunge at them the moment they open the door. She understood where they were coming from. After all, she was a dangerous creature, highly unstable and prone to unpredictable aggression. That's what she heard them saying whenever they observed her and took notes.

But after the stunt she pulled with Dr. Whale, there was just barely enough slack in the chains for her to sit up. She was confined to the bed and probably deserved it.

Her stomach gurgled.

Maybe she should have just cooperated and eaten the meat.

She was so hungry.

There was a tingle in the back of her skull that told her the full moon was drawing near. Maybe in a few more days, she'd have absolutely no control of the wolf. It was probably a good idea then that she was confined like this.

At least this way, she wouldn't be able to hurt anyone anymore.

The high school hallways were abuzz with excited teenagers, eager to chow down and stretch their legs and socialize. She was no different. Her attention span could only hold so much of the babble about chemistry and other sciencey things she didn't have any interest in.

If anything, the one class she enjoyed was home economics. The cooking part anyway. It reminded her of when she was a young girl watching her Granny prepare breakfast. And lunch. And Dinner. Those weekend trips to Granny's house were always the best time ever.

Something about being in front of the oven thrilled her and brought her back to that time when she felt loved and at home.

Then something happened and she just never saw Granny again. There were reports of her being a rumored serial killer but Mother would always shut the TV off or hide the newspaper. No closure ever came and Granny just became a memory. Some kids would point at her and whisper, but that was possible to ignore.

Sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder if any of that was true. If Granny really was a serial killer.

Whenever she was angry, she would entertain the thought that Mother was the actual killer. She was always hiding things and there were always those times when the house would smell weird. It was hard to pinpoint what the smell was, but it reminded her of scraped knees and elbows and raw meat.

"Yo! Daydreamer!" A voice boomed in her ear, making her jump. "Where were you this time?"

She shook her head, changing the subject, "Do you wanna meet me at the park tonight? I can tell Mother I'm studying with Dorothy."

Peter flashed that winning smile that just made her melt. "You mean meet at the park or meet at the park?"

Letting out a short laugh, she gave him a playful nudge, "You know what I mean." With a bite of her lips and a sway of her hips, she gave him the wink she'd been practicing in her room last night.

"Oooh," Peter's smirk widened as he put his hand on the locker behind her and leaned over, "So we're going to study?"

He smelled nice. She could detect the cologne he used and the gel he put in his hair. There was also a hint of shampoo and soap, but that was dulled by the gel and cologne. It was soothing to be around him. She felt safe.

"We could study each other maybe?" She waggled her eyebrows.

Peter did a little bounce. "Lookin' forward to it!"

Pain shot through her head, hitting her sharp and fast. She recoiled, putting her hands against her temples and screwing her eyes shut. Her skull was throbbing and there were lights flashing through her vision. She tried to blink them away and steady her breathing.

"Hey, hey," Peter had his hands on her face. Focusing on him helped steady her.

As suddenly as the pain hit, it subsided to a dull ache at the back of her skull.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She shook her head as if that would shake off the throbbing. "I'm good."

There was concern on Peter's face. "Are you getting those headahces again? That happens like every couple of weeks. Are you sure you don't wanna get that checked out? I mean I could walk you to the nurse right now."

"NO!" She shook her head, grabbing his hand and clutching it tightly. "I'm… I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Mother says it's nothing to worry about." She avoided Peter's concerned eyes. "She says it's normal and that I should just tell her when I feel it so she can prepare the basement for me. There's like some calming music and stuff there and it's soundproof and I dunno." She shook her head.

Talking about it was weird. It made her think of stuff. Strange stuff. Like pain rattling through her entire body. Like wrestling with a huge dog. Which made no sense since they didn't have any dogs.

"Look, I don't wanna talk about this." She wasn't about to let her monthly headaches mess everything up. She just wasn't going to go home tonight. Mother always seemed to know when the headaches were happening. The best option would be to just avoid home and wait at the park. "I'll see you after class, okay? Like maybe right after class."

Peter didn't look too convinced. There was still concern in his eyes. Like she was dying or something. Which she wasn't.

"Peter, please." She kissed his cheek. "I need this. Please?"

He sighed, "If you say so… Although I have practice after class, would you be okay to wait another hour?"

"Hey!" The stern voice of one of their teachers made them freeze. "Break it up, you two, or I'll give you detention."

Rolling his eyes, Peter turned to face the teacher and saluted, "Yes, sir."

That goofy charm was always going to make her giddy.

"204."

Jolting awake, she felt her heart skip several beats when she found a hand clamped over her mouth. Panic threatened to overwhelm her and she tried to squirm away but the assailant maintained hold of her, pushing her back down against the bed.

"Relax, relax. It's me."

As the initial panic subsided, she recognized the nice guard. Milan? Dammit, why was it so hard to remember anything anymore?

The guard tapped the name on her uniform. "Mulan Li, remember?" She was whispering and kept glancing at the door. "I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth. Can you be quiet for me, please?"

She nodded.

"Okay." Mulan slowly moved her hand away. "We don't have a lot of time, and god, if I'm found out, I'm going to be more than just fired."

Not sure how to respond to that, she just nodded again.

"Here," The guard reached into her pocket and for a moment of panic, the thought crossed the subject's mind that a weapon was going to be pulled out. That thought subsided when what instead happened was the smell of cheese and ham and bread. "Normally, I wouldn't recommend eating fast, but it won't be long before Gaston notices a glitch in the cameras."

Was this another test? She eyed the food. It appeared to be a half-eaten sandwich wrapped in tissue. How was this not a test?

"204, please." Mulan took the subject's hands and pressed the sandwich into it. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring you somethint nicer. Just… please. Don't make this risk be for nothing."

Hunger won out and she peeled back the tissue and tore into the sandwich, taking big bites and just barely reminding herself to chew. It was so good. The cheese was cold and not even spread evenly and the ham kept sliding out from under the bread but it was so good. It was real food. It was just. So. Good.

"There we go." Mulan's smile looked almost pained. "I'm sorry there's not more I could do… I mean… do you have any family that knows you're here? Anyone?"

A memory flashed of when she was surrendered to the authorities. Mother watched with a set jaw and thin lips.

The subject nodded.

Mulan looked alarmed. "Really? If my brother Shang knew I was stuck here, he'd tear this place down!"

She shrugged.

A beeping sound came from somewhere in the room. "Shit," Mulan pressed a button on her watch to stop the beeping. "Yeah, I've been here too long. I set the glitch to just last a few minutes and just… shit. Okay. I gotta go."

She reached over to take what was left of the tissue. She was leaving. She was leaving and she hadn't been thanked yet. She was the nice guard. She was Mulan Li. She was the nice guard. She was leaving.

Suddenly full of fear, she reached over and grabbed Mulan's wrist. Stay. Please. Those were the words she wished she could have said but she hadn't spoken in so long and the words didn't come easily anymore and she knew that Mulan would be in trouble if she got caught.

"I'm sorry." Mulan looked wracked with guilt as she pulled her hand free and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.

This had to be a test of some sort.

From the other side of the door, Mulan was speaking to Gaston. His deep voice always had a hint of both arrogance and irritation. "Cameras wonked out just now. The prisoner-"

"The subject." Mulan interrupted.

"-whatever. Did she do anything weird? It's that time of the month and she's expected to go feral soon. I heard them saying she might be wilder than usual this time."

"Nothing to report, sir."

"Alright then. I'll go back and yell at Walter some more. Idiot must've pushed some button when he fell asleep on the monitors again. Fucking useless. At ease."

What if it wasn't a test and Mulan was just… nice?

Nice wasn't what monsters deserved.