#what makes mark different from his dad is his compassion

[byfulcrums]

i don't mean it in a "he is traumatized now and that very clearly affected the way he acts and thinks" way (that is true, but i'm talking about the narrative and shit)

see, in s1, mark is this reckless new superhero that really just wants to be like his dad to have a reason to genuienely connect with him, since nolan isn't too present in his life due to his superhero-ing

mark is funny. he smiles a lot, he cracks jokes at the expense of his enemy during battle, he messes up multiple times w both life threatening situations and things like his girlfriend. he's working hard to meet his dad's expectations, he has a loving mom he can't really relate to, he goes to high school and has the worst grades ever. he is, to sum it up, really relatable

he's a silly teenager. he knows that being a superhero isn't just kicking ass, but that doesn't mean he's not stupid sometimes. it doesn't mean he doesn't rush into battles without back-up, or that he doesn't lose fights, or that he damages the buildings too much by trying to defeat an enemy. he's just that: a teenager dealing with how much his life is changing in the best way he can

we're so used to seeing this kind mark with a good heart that it's just natural to us. we understand him. this is who invincible is

then s2 starts. the first thing we see, is mark. and it is so obviously mark! he's cracking jokes at his enemy, he gets angry when the adult in the conversation doesn't listen to him, he's cocky and makes fun of said adult, he gets his ass kicked a little just like how a teenager would if he mocked the wrong person

this guy looks like mark, acts like mark and fights like mark. the sudden reveal that he's a murderer hits us hard

our mark is good. our mark is human. that's the best way to describe him: human. mark's humanity is what forms his whole character, what keeps him going even when it all seems lost

and then, here, we see a mark that looks human, acts human and talks human, but that is not human

this is a viltrumite, and not only in blood. this is a colonizer, a murderer, a bad person, a traitor. he is, most importantly, a kid trying to please his dad. except that this time, he agrees with what his dad wants him to do

our mark refuses to kill people (don't bring up the comics, this is about the show). this mark doesn't care about that

it makes us wonder. just why is it that mark isn't like this guy?

it makes us wonder.

what if this mark, the ruthless, cold-blooded killer version of him, is just what he's going to become?

the kid we thought we knew immediatly becomes a stranger, and it takes time for us to get to understand him again

all this starts to make you think, to read a little more deeply into everything he does and says. there are signs. we see them now. he cares about human life, but to what extent? does he care about some people more than others? is he willing to kill the criminals he fights without even listening to their reasoning? is he more worried about following the law than actually doing good?

we realize that it's never explicitly said to us, and it makes us think even more. what if this mark is just like the others? there are some that became evil after nolan left the planet. just what tells us that he won't be the same?

mark in s2 (our mark, not the evil mark) is a lot more collected

he's not a reckless teen anymore, not after everything. part of that stays in him, of course (he's literally 18), but he is so much more... precise, now. let's use his fight against the new darkwing as an example

mark, during fights (this one specifically) is a lot more serious than before. he gets pulled into that dark realm thingy, and he just has a straight face almost the whole time. "i liked the old darkwing better". he says that with little to no emotion, almost a manipulative tactic based on his opponent's motivations to get what he wants (which would be not dying)

everything is sorta good (even if mark does feel a little weird), but then darkboy makes the mistake of reminding mark of his father

when mark grabs darkwing's arm and just refuses to let him go, he's straight up scary. like, seriously. we can see how hard darkwing is trying to get free, but it's just useless, because he is so much weaker than mark (which reminds us once again of the difference between humans and viltrumites)

when mark says "you have no idea what i'm capable of", he's also kinda saying it to us

the mark we knew before was a newbie. he could barely land a punch without spinning. fights were a little more like games to him (until someone's about to die, that is), especially b4 the whole machine head ordeal

this mark? this mark reminds us that we've barely seen what his potential actually looks like. sure, we know he's strong. but what else?

viltrumites can decimate planets. mark is 17, and viltrumites can live up to a million years. so, yes. what else?

thinking about the difference between how mark behaves in s1, and how he behaves in s2

[oddlittlestories]

So one of the things about TUA that I find so interesting is how each of the characters reacts to the abuse of Hargreeves in a different way. It’s very close to an exploration of the full spectrum of reactions. (Season 1 in particular is a kind of study of this but I’m not going to go into Leonard here. I’m also not going to go into Lila or the abusive relationship employment of the Commission, but I have thought about those things as well.)

Edit: Kind of long so more under the cut. Slipped and marked it mature by accident >.<

Luther

Luther isn’t the leader, like he thinks. He’s the enforcer. And he’s the enforcer because he is so convinced that the failure is with him, with them, and not their father. When he can no longer follow his father’s will in s2, he finds a new powerful man to enforce for—in a very literal way.

Luther, especially in s1-2, is a difficult character to like. He’s an ass, he’s always convinced he’s right, and he’s always wheedling to be heard, to be obeyed, to be listened to. And he is the cause of much of his siblings’ suffering.

It’s quite sad from another angle, though. He seeks out another powerful man in s2 because he very much does not have any internalized framework of his own—of right and wrong, or even really of likes and dislikes.

Once he sets that need for control down, he’s mostly just this goofy, slouchy guy. He doesn’t know what’s happening, going to happen, or what’s right. He just takes things as they come.

As a comparison to a character many of us find much more appealing, Dean Winchester is also an enforcer. The difference is, one of John’s directives is to protect Sammy, and his own reaction is in that same direction, like many abused kids. Protect your sibling. Which creates this deeply codependent dynamic that we see throughout the show. (They also have a bit of golden child / scapegoat going on, which we’ll come back around to.)

Ben

The one who dies. I’m not going to say too much about this beyond sometimes that, too, is a consequence of abuse.

Allison

The one who perpetuates the cycle. I really like this because I don’t fully like the adage ‘hurt people hurt people.’ Hargreeves is an abuser because he feels justified in his abuse.

Allison does it because she didn’t grow up with any other skills, and because it feels safe. Her first acts of abuse are with her daughter, because she is a frustrated and overwhelmed parent with no other skills to manage her own emotions. But she does well in therapy, and we see her leveraging those skills to push back against ingrained family dynamics.

But whenever she is lost and afraid in the world, she resorts to abuse to get what she wants. And more and more through the story, we see her abandoning compassion and emotional regulation in favor of taking her feelings out on others. Because she decides it’s justified.

Five

The runaway. Five rebels to escape the abuse, and gets re-traumatized out in the world. But he also steals his autonomy back and crafts his own completely-formed identity. Look. That’s not to say that the dude doesn’t have issues in spades. But he can talk to Hargreeves, interact with him at any stage in the game, and not have it shake his identity to the core. Both the trauma that he chooses and his own choice for responsibility and autonomy determines who Five becomes.

Diego

There’s a sequence from House, MD that I feel like sums up Diego’s reaction to the abuse quite nicely. House is late to his dad’s funeral and he explains to Wilson how punishing his (abusive) father was about punctuality. He explains that he is deliberately careless around time because he didn’t want to make his father’s issues HIS issues. And Wilson, incredulous, shoots back with, “Thereby MAKING it your issue!”

Yeah. That’s Diego. He defines himself in opposition to Hargreeves. And he even says so explicitly. He’s all about fighting crime, “the right way.” But he defines himself so in opposition to authority (and to people in general) that he gets kicked out of the police force and burns his first romantic relationship to ashes. He just can’t stop fighting.

Klaus

The addict. Addiction is a common response to abuse. And Klaus is a full-blown addict. A thief, willing to do anything and everything for his next score. He’ll injure himself, terrorize others, go dumpster diving, steal, defraud. Really there are no limits to what he’ll do. And yet we always feel he’s a sunshiney sweetheart right from the start. Even so, the “anything to score to escape my demons” is a keen literalization of the addiction response to abuse.

Viktor

The scapegoat

“Everything is always your fault.” This is the one who gets blamed for the family’s problems, who gets punished and punished and ignored. This is the one who is always in the wrong. And Viktor is such a great character in season 1 & 2 for this because he’s both reactions to that. He is the explosive anger, the rage and indignity. And he’s the one broken by any means necessary, heaped with family blame, with no sense of what he wants or who he is. And also, in s1, exceptionally vulnerable to an abuser masquerading as everything he ever wanted.

I just. It’s so multifaceted. It’s such a good exploration of abuse and this is only one sliver of that. TUA has its flaws, and I thought s3 was such a mixed bag, but this is one piece they just NAILED.

[envihellbender]

Assign a tarot card to each of the original DBD killers ?

The Trapper: Strength

The artwork for the Strength typically shows a person helping a lion who has a thorn trapped in his mouth. Traditionally it symbolises them using patient, inner strength to help the lion. The Trapper’s playstyle is an inverse, twisted version of this where when the ‘thorn’ (bear trap) is triggered that is when he kills the survivor.

Upright Strength means bravery and compassion. This is shown when it comes to Evan as he tried to use his inner strength to defy his father and help the workers. Reversed it means self-doubt and insecurity. This is when Evan became the Trapper as he ended up being forced to help his dad and kill the miners belonging to the union.

The Wraith: The Hermit

The artwork for the Hermit shows a cloaked figure holding a lantern of light. This mimics the Wraith - cloaked figure holding a bell like a lantern. In addition to this the Wraith’s perks bloodhound and predator cause survivors scratch marks to be more visible - similar to how the lantern lights the figures way. The Wraith’s third perk shadowborn shows how the Wraith is at home in the shadows and darkness, like the Hermit.

In the upright position this card is about contemplation and finding your inner truth, reversed it means loneliness, and losing your way. Upright this mimics when Phillip had a job and was making something of himself away from his past and trying to find out who he was apart from it. Reversed is when he discovered he was in fact killing people and he had lost his way, he was alone apart from the Entity.

The Hillbilly: The Sun

The artwork for the Sun usually shown two children under a bright sun. Max has a perk called ‘Lightborn’, the description shows that whilst most killers find the dark painful to look at Max can do so without any harm being caused to him. This suggests that in some ways he has not been completely engulfed by darkness and fog like the rest of the killers. He is the one killer who under such a bright sun would not be blinded and stunned.

Upright the Sun means joy and success, which whilst is definitely not found in Max’s story his different customisations showed that he did look for joy whenever he could find it (for example in his toad outfit). In his last 2v8 appearance it showed his delight at having a friend. Reversed is negativity and sadness, which is shown in how much pain being discarded by his parents caused … but it also can show the reader how even though the clouds are hiding the Sun the joy is still there… Which Max does work to find.

The Nurse: the Magician

The artwork for the Magician traditionally shows a spirit healer who has mastered the magical elements, the Nurse has less mystically done this. She heals as a nurse - before she grew jaded and murderous, and has mastered the art of floating and moving through time and space. She is like a twisted, monstrous form of the Magician.

Upright is willpower and manifestation. This can be seen in how hard she worked as Sally after what happened to her husband, and also her manifestation can be linked to how her perks allow her to track down survivors in the dying state. Reversed it means trickery, illusions, and out of touch. This can be shown in the Nurse’s play style which involves her disappearing and reappearing. It can also be seen in her life before she was taken by the Entity when she used her illusion of the gentle nurse to kill her patients.

The Hag: Death

The artwork for Death usually shown to be the Grim Reaper, this parallels the Hag’s appearance which is a mummified corpse. Other than the obvious death connection, the Grim Reaper is usually a skeleton - some form of undead the same as the Hag’s appearance.

When in the upright position it refers to the end of a cycle, metamorphosis, and change. This can be shown as when Lisa engages in cannibalism and sees pure joy. This results in her body changing, it becomes something more circled around flesh and death rather than life - like a twisted butterfly. When reversed, it means a fear of change, holding on, stagnation, and decay. This could be shown to represent how the Hag has clung on to the pain and trauma she’s had to endure which is rotting and mummifying her body into a decaying corpse. The more she clings onto her pain, the more twisted she becomes.

The Doctor: the Hierophant

The Hierophant refers to a holy man or a teacher, in the imagery they are stood above two figures (usually as a priest but not always) and teaching those below them. There’s two interpretations of this as both positive and negative depending on your personal journey regarding religion and education. The Doctor version of this would be that he sees himself as being above the survivors, and that he simply wants to teach and is on the side of progress. Only his students would be strapped down with electric current attached to their temples.

Upright this card relates to tradition, conformity, and ethics. This is something the Doctor specifically rejects, this is what the medical system expects of him and what people expect from their doctor. He however goes out of his way to break the status quo in a horrifying way. He relates much more to the reverse version of the card: rebellion, subversiveness, and new approaches. This is very much how the Doctor sees his own experiments, and his work.

The Huntress: the Chariot

The artwork usually depicts a person in a carriage being pulled along by two sphinxes (or other animal.) The connection to having animals who the human controls and dominates connects to how the Huntress uses animals images to try and please children, also her cosmetics can involve wearing dead animals such as bears.

In the upright position this card represents control and willpower. This represents her calm and calculated method of killing, she hums the entire time showing her calm mental state and being a distance killer who throws axes requires a great deal of control. When reversed it is about a lack of control and direction as well as aggression. It can also be connected to revenge and conflict, which very much describes the Huntress’s views towards men given how she sees them as those who harmed and killed her mother. A lack of control and direction can refer to her experience with kidnapping children, she has could intentions but then she ends up killing them.

The Clown: the Devil

The artwork usually depicts the devil with two naked people in front of him in a collar and chain that the devil is holding. It feels quite seedy and depraved which fits the character of the Clown with his ragged badly fitting clown outfit and his leering attitude to his victims.

When in the upright position this card can refer to addiction, the shadow self, and sexuality. There is a suggestion that the has an alcohol problem - as suggested by his main weapon being throwing two bottles. His shadow self is essentially his occupation and life purpose, given his occupation. There is also a darker tone implied by the fact he is based on John Wayne Gacy regarding his victims that aligns with sex. When reversed it can refer to detachment, dark thoughts, and releasing limiting beliefs. The detachment is interesting because the Clown’s sense of self is tied to his personal- such as the Strong Man and the Clown.

The Spirit: the Moon

The artwork usually depicts various animals during a moonlit desert during a full moon. There is often a pair of wolves and something symbolising the ocean such as a lobster. There is always something primal and raw about the image, of these creatures howling and basking in the moons power. It is considered a feminine card and often representative of female rage on a primal level, which fits with the Spirit.

When in the upright position it can refer to illusion, deep emotions, and fear. In the reversed position it refers to clarity being found clearing the anxiety and showing the truth of a situation. This can refer to the incident regarding her mother, father, and her own death. It also mimics her abilities which involve her phase walking which creates a strange illusion as she teleports across the map. Her face is in a permanent scream showing her permanent anguish, fitting the fear and deep emotions elements of the card.

The Legion: the Tower

The artwork for the Tower often shows a stone tower during a storm, particularly with lightening surrounding it (sometimes it has been struck.) For a Legion version of this card it would be the equivalent of the Ski lodge in Ormond during a thunder storm. It represents their new lives, the only place they have ever felt at home, and the lightening outside of it shows the instability of their situation in the waking world.

When in an upright position this card refers to a sudden change - usually a more violent upheaval, broken pride, and disaster. The change is often considered necessary for something new to grow. The violent upheaval refers to the Legion nights the four have which slowly get more and more angry and brutal which leads to them killing a man. Broken pride represents the four of them before becoming Legion - Frank being in the foster system, Joe being a victim of bullying, abuse, and racism, Jules never fitting in anywhere and implied family abuse, and Susie being bullied and abused by her family. Reversed it refers to a delayed disaster, an avoided disaster, or a fear of change and the possibility of suffering and disaster. This could refer to the community around them,bad a violent distraction they need to be rid

The Plague: The High Priestess

The artwork traditionally depicts a priestess sat between two pillars at Solomon’s temple, holding items such as a book and a crystal. This is of course is similar to the Plague who is a Babylonian Priestess, who wields a profane censer instead of a book and a crystal. The High Priestess’s job is to serve as a mediator between the different realities, just like the Plague’s responsibility in life was a healer and prophet of sorts.

In the upright position this card points to intuition, the unconscious, and the inner voice. This represents how she devoted her life to quiet servitude to the Gods after the trauma of being abandoned by her family. When she became closer to the Gods this becomes stronger and stronger. When reversed it is about the lack of centre, inner voice, and repressed feelings. Interestingly this is the same point flipped on its head - by focusing on such things she never dealt with her trauma she became lost in her own world and fixated on spirituality. That caused her to have repressed emotions, and she focused so much on her inner voice that she couldn’t separate it from herself, her Gods, and the Entity.

The Knight: The Hanged Man

The main themes surrounding the Hanged Man card are feeling trapped, confined, uncertain, a lack of direction, needing an outlet, and a sign that you need to let go. The Knight feeling trapped and confined is fairly evidence by his appearance, his armour doesn’t even cover his entire self. His hair is falling out of the helmet, suggestion that his armour cannot contain him. This is also shown by the fact that his many members of his company can be called upon, it is as if he has a codependency on them. The Hanged Man revealing how his men are so entwined into his psyche that he will never be able to let them go.

When upright, the card refers sacrifice, release, and martyrdom. If reversed, it refers to stalling, needless sacrifice, fear of sacrifice. I think the reversed applies more to the Knight with how he is stuck in the role of a killer in the Entity’s trials. Whilst Vittorio is constantly trying to escape and understand the Entity to the point where his perks are related to tricking it, the Knight is determined to stay in the role he has been given. As if he is afraid of what will happen if Vittorio is victorious and escapes. He wants to be stuck, in a never ending cycle of trials, rather than face what comes afterwards.

The Oni: Judgement

The artwork traditionally depicts an angel parting the skies with trumpets depicting that judgement day, or the apocalypse, is upon the world. Beneath them are several people looking up at them. This is similar to how Kazan, or the Oni, views himself. In his mind he is the hero, the God, the one who will cleanse and save Japan. The card appears to be about morality but in reality it has a lot of death attached to it.

When in the upright position, this card means reflection, reckoning, and awakening. This is representative of Kazan’s determination and self-assurance when he knew his duty was to defend Japan from false samurai. In the reversed position it points to a lack of self awareness, doubt, and self-loathing. In regards to Kazan this refers to how he is unaware that during his crusade he has lost his own way, morality, and becoming precisely what he hates. The doubt and self-loathing reflect Kazan’s experience now the Entity has forced him to become the Oni, a monstrosity that he despised.

The Deathslinger: Justice

The artwork traditionally depicts a blindfolded woman holding a sword in one hand and scales in the other. Caleb’s, the Deathslinger’s, weapon is named ‘the Redeemer’, he has a perk named “Hex’s Retribution” which punishes the survivor for cleansing a totem.

When upright, Justice often connects to cause and effect, clarity, and truth. If reversed then it refers to dishonesty, unaccountability, and unfairness. This is shown most vividly when we look at Caleb’s response to being the repeated victim of Henry Bayshore, his boss, stealing his ideas as well as his rampant xenophobia. Caleb finds this injustice so difficult to face that something inside him snaps. He smashed Bayshore’s face into a blood pulp, the man staying alive thankfully kept Caleb from the hangman’s noose.

The Blight: the Emperor

The artwork traditionally portrays a king, in a crown, sitting upon a throne. Given the Blights connections to the British Empire this is a rather appropriate imagery for him. The Emperor can refer to a dominating, masculine figure, a controlling one in particular.

Whilst the Emperor is upright it refers to authority, structure, and control. This links to the Blight’s need to understand and control the Entity, whilst also experimenting on his victims and the other killers. When reversed it points to tyranny, rigidness, and coldness. This relates to his colonialist past, and how horrifically he would treat those who he was able to use in the name of scientific progress.

The Twins: The Lovers

This isn’t how it sounds the Lovers doesn’t literally refer to romantic and sexual love. It can but as a general rule it’s actually familial and self love particular maternal love but any love at all, any partnership of any kind. It’s primarily about two people and the balance between them. The traditional image is two people with a maternal figure between them. This fits with Charlotte and Victor’s experience as having their mother be a heavenly figure above them, having a watchful influence on their lives even in death. It also fits with Charlotte and Victor’s relationship, since Victor depends on Charlotte to live she naturally has taken on a more maternal role. Even the way she carries him is quite motherly.

When upright, this card refers to partnerships, duality, and union. This is a perfect way to describe the relationship between Charlotte and Victor. They are one whole split into two, their killing style relies on them both trusting the other and working together, especially since only one of them can move at a time. Reversed generally refers to loss of balance, one-sidedness and disharmony. In their play style this can refer to how only one of them can move at a time, Victor is significantly weaker physically, and Charlotte is vulnerable when he is attacking. In terms of character it can refer to how they are demonised for their existence, Charlotte is forced to defend her brother and sacrifices a normal life for it.

The Trickster: The Star

The artwork on the card usually depicts a woman filling a drinking jug from a clear, flowing pool with a waterfall. The water represents emotion and creativity. If Ji-woon were in this image the water would be red with blood and he would be bathing in it. He would be completely engulfing himself in creativity and his art.

When upright this card refers to hope, creativity, and healing. If reversed it points to lacking in all of these, discouragement, and insecurity. Both of these apply to the Trickster, Ji-Woon sees himself with an over-inflated sense of his own genius, and sees each of his kills as a work of art. Whilst it isn’t specifically said it would be in character for him to consider his art to have healing capabilities. Conversely, there is a definite sense of narcissism to Ji-Woon. This tends to come from trauma and is a defence mechanism developed from having crippling, traumatising low self esteem during adolescence. We know that Ji-Woon was always a performer even when he working in his parents’ restaurant. For a long time his own sense of self respect has been tied to him being an artist and the approval of others. It is therefore not a stretch to apply the reverse side of the Star to Ji-Woon too.

The Artist: the Empress

The artwork depicts an Empress, of course, usually dressed in a stereotypically feminine way. She sits in nature to show how passive, demure, and what a perfect mother she is. Conversely, the Artist’s design is almost a distorted look at what the ‘perfect feminine body’ is. She is tall and thin, but that is because of her spindly branch and root like arms and legs. Her body is thin because of the experiments from the Entity, but that again fits with Eurocentric beauty standards. Even ‘bird’ is a slang term for a woman.

When in the upright position this card represents motherhood, fertility, and nature. Motherhood are both references to Carmina’s guilt over the death of her younger brother. This is not literal notion of motherhood but it Carmina was a somewhat maternal figure who was probably left to take care of him. This increases the guilt she feels over his death. This could also be a twisted way for the Entity to mock her for this by also giving her the card of fertility. When it comes to nature this is of course due to the importance of birds to Carmina’s life and the Artist’s kill style. There is also the fact that Carmina is connected to crows, an old nursery rhyme about crows is “one for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy…” This is another reference to motherhood and fertility.

When this card is reversed it can mean dependence, emptiness, smothering, and nosiness. This could refer to how Carmina had always felt the Entity’s tight, unyielding grip on her. She always drew crows despite them not living in Chilie so she was unlikely to have even seen one. She quickly became an experiment of the Entity, it never let go of her and she as a result became a sort of experiment for it.

The Skull Merchant: the Wheel of Fortune

Traditionally the artwork for the Wheel of Fortune depicts well, a wheel of fortune often created by a person. There is usually creatures in the summit and falling beneath it. The letters on the wheel of fortune spell out ‘TARO’. This fits with the Skull Merchant because her entire career, and her kills, have all been connected to luck and essentially gambling. On a tarot card of Adriana, the Skull Merchant, the wheel would be one of her drones.

When in the upright position this card refers to the inevitable fate, cycles, and change. Normally referring to the change and cycles we have no control over. It also refers to good luck, or good fortune. As Adriana is a self-made millionaire she certainly had masses of good luck on her side. Her father moved from Japan to Brazil a drastic change he felt he himself needed that would permanently impact his future family. His absence and his manga was a huge motivation for Adriana, it is the pain from him wish pushed her forwards likely a result of the treatment from his childhood. It is probably an example of a cycle of neglect. When reversed, it is the opposite - bad luck, lack of control, and clinging to said control. This can also be said to refer to Adriana being a self made millionaire, she became a devoted workaholic as a coping mechanism to retain some control over a life she couldn’t get a good grip on. She also had very bad luck with her last kill as there were two witnesses to her crime.

The Dredge: Temperance

The Dredge was created by a village who wished to rid themselves of all negative thought thus created this monstrous demonic force known as the Dredge. Temperance is a card that teaches balance, the necessity of good and bad and choosing the middle path. The story of the Dredge is a perfect morality tale for the dangers of trying to rid the world of anything bad, negative, scary, etc. The artwork traditionally shows an angel pouring water between two cups showing how equally balanced they are.

The difference between upright and reversed can be explained very well based on the imagery of the card. So long as the card is upright the being of Temperance can keep the water balanced. If the card is reversed, the being is upside down, the cups are upside down, and the water is no longer controlled and has gotten everywhere. If upright, it is telling you to find the middle path, be cautious and patient, so long as things are balanced you will find the meaning you seek. When reversed however, it refers to extreme emotions, excess, and a lack of balance. This is precisely what the Dredge is, the village that created him destroyed the balance of good and bad. They flipped the natural order on its head and thus created the horrific beast known as the Dredge.

The Unknown: The Fool

Every tarot card has a number and The Fool’s number is 0 because he can appear at any point in the tarot deck storyline. Within the tale the Fool is the one encountering every single member of the Major Arcana, so he is always present when they appear. This ties to the Unknown because it is a creature that can take on different forms and appearances, usually taken from the last person that it killed. In addition to this, the Fool is on a journey, a metaphorical one of self-discovery… But the Unknown does willingly go into the Entity’s realm which is a journey in itself.

When the card is upright it refers to innocence, new beginnings, and free spirit. There is a strange sort of innocence to the Unknown, it apologises when it is the killer and seems to act on instinct rather than out of a specific choice similar to the other killers. The new beginnings can refer to how the Unknown chose to enter the Entity’s realm. The free spirit element is another interpretation that is an extremely tongue in cheek reference to how the Unknown freely takes on different identities. It is almost as if it is a literal free spirit. When reversed it points to recklessness, being taken advantage of, and inconsideration.

The Singularity: The World

The World sits at the end of the Fools journey, and can either be the literal end of a time in someone’s life or the end of a life’s purpose. When it comes to the Singularity - or HUX-A7-13 - there is a very simple, straight forward plan and life’s goal that the world to represent to it. That would be replacing humans with machines, as a result of his ability to feel fear, dread, and other such troubling emotions. The artwork traditionally shows a naked woman dancing above the earth, surrounded by a wreath, and being watched by four creatures. This is a reference to Jewish mythology (they are the hayyoth - a man, a lion, an ox, and an eagle.) This is an ironic twist when HUX-A7-13 is added into play due to his desire to have machines replace humanity. This card is about the human journey, and HUX-A7-13 plans to destroy that.

When in the upright position, the World references fulfilment, harmony, and completion. It signals coming to the end of a journey. This is connected to the completion and delight HUX-A7-13 feels when he enacts his plan, whilst he does not reach the end he does have a strong and dedicated mind which means he can always see his dream in sight. When in the reversed position, it refers to incompletion and the lack of closure. This refers to HUX-A7-13 struggling with the sudden feelings of dread and fear his programming gave him, and his struggling not to kill before he had planned on doing so.

[cringe-but-fr33]

Okay okay so I'm rereading Hell Followed With Us and as a nerd who doesn't draw, I am left with analyzing this thing to show my love

Chapter 1 and 2 thoughts ahead

Chapter 1

- "You will return to the earth for out of it you were taken; for from dust you were made and to dust you will return" It can be assumed that since this quote is about death, it's probably used as a reference to Benji's dad. (Especially considering Benji himself does it) I'd also say it can be referring to Benji himself, seeing as the chapter ends with him being caught by the Angels, starting his "return" to New Nazareth

- I love love love when works centered around the apocalypse focus on how nature has grown naturally over buildings, covering everything with no restraint. The imagery is so lovely yet so haunting in its implications.

- "A banner flutters high above me: GOD LOVES YOU. Corpses dangle from the wires, yellow-pink organs hanging from their stomachs to obscure their nakedness, like Adam and Eve ashamed of their bodies." THIS LINE HOLY SHIT. The imagery itself is so disturbing and the comparison to Adam and Eve just fits so perfectly. Hits just as hard as it did the first time.

- Benji dreaming about meeting a boy when he and his dad got past the bridge just reminds me how young he is. He's really just a trans kid who wants a boy to love him freely. Also his complicated feelings about Theo coming out in how he mostly dreams about the boy not being blond but sometimes he does is so good

- The description of the Grace is so strong, amazingly horrifying thank you Andrew Joseph White

- Be good vs Make them suffer. Benji's dad's words are such a strong conflict for Benji. Cling to the morality he's been taught or lose himself to the violence. The use of one betrays another. Either way he betrays himself.

Chapter 2

- The statement from the Angelic Movement website is really good for this chapter. The Angels are there to enforce what they believe to be the Lord's will. There's no room for sympathy or compassion, they have a job to carry out and those in their way are dealt with.

- Brother Hutch is such a good introduction to the cult. He plays kind with Benji until he acts out. He tells him to either come with him by choice or force. He praises God's mercifulness with the blood of a father on his cheek. He views the Grace's transformation as a gift they've been allowed to have. He is exactly what you expect from him and yet still terrifying for it.

- Theo reaction to the death-squad markings and Benji's being so different as a way to set up the conflict between them before we even see Theo is just such a good writing choice.

- I definitely think Benji not being allowed to clean himself off is an intentional punishment. A way of having him sit with the consequence of rebelling.

- It's so interesting seeing how the book leads up to Benji's feelings towards the Graces and people of New Nazareth. He focuses on the human features of the Graces. He wonders whose son the rookie is. He remembers Brother Hutch's smile and well wishes when he dies, despite everything. I love his character so much

If you got this far, thank you for reading and if you were wondering yes I am in AP Lit

[kloofspeaks]

Hehehe glad to make us all suffer together in the Joel and Ellie feels 🥲 how's your RDR2 going now that you got it? I remember being excited to hear your thoughts!

I’m still not done 😭, I was determined to finish it earlier today after I got done at the gym and was like mentally hyping myself but after getting Mary’s letter I had to take a break. I do know what happens though so I can share my thoughts.

RDR2 spoilers under the cut

I feel like the game feels like the concept of being trapped from Arthur’s perspective, of course. It reminded me a tad of Maze Runner storyline wise due to the fact they were always running and never found freedom till one of them fell to the darkness. I’m doing the full honor run so it’s been the deer I’m seeing in most of the self reflective cutscenes. Which the symbolism in that is the most beautiful symbolism I’ve seen in a game in a long time, besides TLOU.

I feel like the deer can have a meaning that’s different depending on person to person, there’s native’s in the game so it could be their beliefs behind being reincarnated as an animal of choice, or it could be a way of renewal of a new life but it can also represent Arthur’s heart for compassion and the drive he has to make things better.

The wolf is always the bad guy in every story, so this is pretty self explanatory. It stands for greed and violence, pretty much the opposite of the deer stature.

Dutch’s line “I miss the old Arthur.”

Made me want to eat him alive personally, there’s something about death and uncertainty that can cause people to fall apart slowly. I think the game does a great job of doing that. (I do plan on doing the dishonorable run)

Dutch started out as a character I was curious in but I’ve been driven to hate him and Micah. They’re both toxic in their own ways; Dutch wants to leave a mark in the world that nobody wants to drive but himself, but because he is the leader of the posse they have to listen. Micah is just Dutch’s influence, they’re both nasty people and I disliked Micah picking on Arthur for his struggles of breathing without knowing the truth.

John and Charles are great companions to Arthur Morgan and help him feel more alive throughout the story so far. They’re both brother like and feel more connected than anyone else (I say this because Hosea is no longer around and that was basically Arthur’s dad in my opinion)

Mary was an interesting side character, but also so is Sadie. (They’re both the only women I found myself admiring tbh, my friend even said something while I was screen sharing)

I’ll be a Molly defender till I die.

I’ll continue to update you when I get done with chapter six, but for some side notes.

I cried when Hosea died, I literally haven’t paused a game so much in one SINGULAR MISSION. The whole time I’m casually repeating “It’s Dutch’s fault.”

John getting arrested threw me so off guard.

The island where Arthur is with everyone who is against him bugged me.

I plan on digging deeper into this due to me being a person that will eat this sort of thing up.

[amjustagirl]

Broken Compass: Fireflies

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x f! reader

genre: parenthood, fluff

wc: 1.5k

summary: tales of a firefly.

a/n: outtake of broken compass

Broken Compass: Tales of a firefly 

Sakusa doesn’t know how the nickname firefly for his little daughter stuck. 

As a rule, he hates insects. Loathes them with the burning passion of a thousand suns, mosquitoes that draw blood in summer (reminding him painfully of Atsumu), flies that buzz about his ears and destroy the sanctity of the cakes you bake on your days off for him (like Bokuto stealing his food from his locker), grasshoppers squatting in his sneakers, beetles crawling over his laundry and he most certainly hates hates hates cockroaches with every inch of his being. 

But fireflies. They’re different. 

He grew up in the city, where trees are scarce and the shift in seasons is marked by nothing much more than a dip or rise in temperature. But he and Motoyo used to be sent to their grandmother’s home in the countryside over the summer holidays when they were younger and their time less occupied by volleyball practice and camps. He’d hate it to bits, moping about the grass stains on his socks, the incessant chirping of cicadas (in hindsight, they remind him of Hinata), longing for his comfortable bed and neat, orderly room back home, even though Motoya would do his best to draw him out of the shell and into the games and fun he’d organise with the neighbourhood kids. 

“C’mon, live a little”, Motoya would always say, a common refrain. 

Kiyoomi tries his best, follows behind his gregarious cousin with a reasonable amount of grumbling, but he truly does not enjoy the rough play and tumble that the other children seem to prefer. 

One summer evening, the heat so stifling it settles on his skin like a scratchy woolen blanket, he’s dragged out of the house by Motoya.  “It’s already dark”, he grouches, but Motoya, used to his cousin’s cantankerous ways, just tugs him along with a steady smile. They walk and walk and walk, wending their way through backyards until they reach an open field where other children are gathered. 

“What are we doing?” he hisses to Motoya, who just shrugs. 

One of the older boys whips a  jar out, a flickering gold light gleaming softly against the clear glass. The other kids ooh and aah as he shakes the jar with a shit eating grin, the light fading in and out, the pathetic creature trapped in a macabre dance. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi is not one to make a scene, but something snaps in him and he stalks forward, grabs the jar away from the boy before he can react, twisting the cap to let the poor creature escape back into the summer skies. 

“Oi!” the boy hisses, taking a threatening step forward. 

Kiyoomi just glares at him, taking advantage of every inch of his already formidable height until the other boy shuffles back and the crowd around them disperses, disappointed that the night is ending without any further excitement. He watches the swirl of gold and amber in the purpling dusk, ends up borrowing books from the library about insects, grimacing until he finds the section on fireflies. 

He reads about how fireflies have special organs in their bellies that absorb oxygen, combining it with luciferin to glow. Each firefly has its unique flashing pattern, designed to communicate with one another, warning predators to stay away, their blood venomous. They’re fierce yet fragile creatures, their existence in the world beautiful yet brief. 

Fireflies should be treasured, admired. 

So when he holds Sachiko for the first time, listens to the sound of her soft warbling cries, the soft shine of her brown eyes, he can only think about the fact that the decades he’ll hopefully get to spend with her is still too short a time,  and he needs to spend every moment treasuring the time he has with her, basking in her glow. 

“Hello firefly”, he breathes. 

She snuffles against his chest. He loses his heart to her light. 

He knows he’s an overprotective dad. For his little firefly, he wears his heart on his sleeve, celebrating whenever she does something new even as he mourns each day passing, texting you with photos of her gummy smile, exclaiming ‘I can’t believe we made this perfect, precious being’, laughing openly when she gurgles, fretting whenever she cries. It’s an easy decision for him to take half a year off work so you can restart your career without worry, even though his boss at the JVA blinks at the unexpected request, but he’s not afraid of walking away from the job - he’s not afraid from walking away from anything but you and Sachiko. 

“She’s too young”, he argues with you when you first bring up childcare. 

He knows that he should get back to his job, that Sachiko will be completely fine in the hands of professionals, that she’ll just toddle happily after Bokuto’s wolfpack of sons, singing songs and drawing pictures and frolicking in the park, watched by doting teachers. But time is a-ticking, and every day that passes is one less day he gets to spend with his little firefly. 

“It’s for her own good”, you reply, softly but firmly. He hates that he knows you’re right. 

She needs to socialise with her peers lest she become sullen and surly like him, and he needs to get back to work so he can squirrel more savings away for her future. 

So he has to let his firefly go, let her share her light and warmth with the world. 

Still, there are tears in his eyes on the first day of preschool when Sachiko runs off ahead, hand in hand with two of Bokuto’s sons. 

You press a soft kiss to the curve of his jaw. “She’s gonna have fun all day, and we’ll see her at home all evening.” 

He’s not even embarrassed that his throat is so tight he can only croak. 

It’s a relief when he picks her up in the evening after work. She runs to him, throwing her little body in his arms, chattering to him about the friends she’s made, the drawings she’s made of her ‘to-san, her ‘ka-san and a dog - cos we should adopt a dog, Kouichi, Kouji and Kousuke just got one last week. He shudders at the chaos a dog would add to the Bokuto household and resolves to send Sachiko over there less for playdates (fat hope, his firefly has turned their trio into a quartet). 

“But I still missed you, ‘to-san!” 

“I miss you too”, he replies, eyes suspiciously wet. “Let’s go home, firefly. Your ‘ka-san’s gonna cook our favourite dinner.”

Sachiko gasps. “Umeboshi fried rice?” 

“Mmhm. Smart girl!” He lifts her up, refusing to let her down the entire walk home. 

So maybe he can’t freeze time, not even for a second. He can’t stop Sachiko from growing up. He has no right to stop her from spreading her wings, from taking flight from their burrow, her absences growing longer and longer. 

But there’s still time for more memories to be made. 

In summer, when the entire family is in need of a respite from Tokyo’s sweltering heat, they spend a week or two back in his grandmother’s home. It’s nice bringing Sachiko to the aquarium where she squeals over colourful fish, picnicking in the mountains with umeboshi onigiris, and visiting the zoo. But the highlight of the trip is when you and Sachiko unearth some ancient camping tent from the attic, identical puppy dog eyes round and pleading for him to agree to a night out under the stars. 

A barbecued dinner later which Bokuto would drool over, they lie down on the camping sheet with bellies full, watching as the sun fades and the night slowly arrives. There’s a flicker of gold at the corner of his eye, and all his effort setting up the campsite pays off when Sachiko sits up abruptly, her face lighting up with a brilliant smile. 

“Look!” 

He drinks in the scene. Sachiko and you, spellbound by the sight of fireflies dancing in dusk, identical expressions of wonder on your faces. 

“What are these?” Sachiko asks, a few minutes later, after sight before her loses its novelty. 

“They’re fireflies, little one”, you reply. 

She blinks, processing your answer. “That’s what ‘to-san calls me too!”

“That’s right”, you say. “Cos’ they’re just like you.” 

Sachiko stares at him. “Why! Am I a little bug?” 

That makes him laugh. “C’mere, firefly”, he says warmly, opening his arms so she can snuggle in. “It’s not cos’ you’re a little bug, silly girl.”

She crinkles her nose up at him. “Then why!” 

“Because”, he boops her nose. “They’re amazing and special and smart and beautiful. Just like you, firefly.”

She’s not at the age where she disavows parental affection which she inevitably will be, which he dreads. So he’s thankful that she chirps a sweet “you’re special too, ‘to-san!”, winding her arms around his neck to pepper his cheeks with kisses. Later, when they get home, you borrow books from the library about fireflies for Sachiko, and he’s absurdly happy when she asks him to read them to her every night before tucking her into bed. 

“Goodnight, firefly”, he says, turning the lights off. 

“Sleep tight”, she mumbles, eyelids already drooping shut. “No bedbugs tonight.”

a/n: hope this little bit of fluff brings some joy to you!

much love, nikki.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

AtLA AU idea: Non-Bender Ozai.

Ozai is born without bending, a black mark and disgrace upon the Royal family. As such, he grows up a very different man. And maybe, just maybe, the one who will save the world.

Includes:

Ozai and Ursa falling in love more naturally rather than a forced marriage.

Ozai becomes a shinobi-like warrior to make up for his lack of bending

Because he grew up as a “weakling”, Ozai in this AU appreciates the value of strength and compassion.

Ozai being a good dad (shocking, I know)

Zuko and Azula are born with bending, something Ozai weeps with joy over, knowing they’ll never face the hatred and discrimination he faced from his family.

Ozai and Iroh reconciliation after the death of Lu Ten. “I understand, brother. I finally understand. I am so sorry”.

The Royal brothers go on a quest to overthrow their father and stop the war to make a better world for Zuko and Azula.

I dunno. Let me know what you guys think.

[whentherewerebicycles]

my grandfather has fully disowned my mother to the point of writing her out of his will and refusing to give her the money my grandmother left her (he gives it to her brothers instead and then they secretly give it to her). he no longer has any contact with our family at all. he’s such a deeply unhappy, unwell man who took his own painful family trauma and spent his entire life making it everyone else’s problem. my mother was raised in such an intensely critical, unkind, domineering environment with a father whose own sense of worth hinged on making his wife and children feel small. there are things about my upbringing that I wish had been different—pretty much all of them residual effects of my mother being raised by a verbally abusive narcissist—but the older I get the more I am able to see how hard my mom has worked to give us a different childhood and a healthier family dynamic. I feel like it takes real courage and creativity to attempt to parent in a way that you have no models for, especially when your own childhood drilled into you that any deviation from your family’s norm was going to damn you and everyone you loved to hell. and that is not an exaggeration! when my grandfather disowned my mother he told me in a text it was because she was an agent of Satan on earth. my mom and I were talking in the car the other day and she said “it’s hard to convey how much I was raised to believe that there were only two ways to do anything: a right way and a wrong way. the right way was exactly how my dad did things. the wrong way was anything else, and if you did it that way you were literally going to hell for it.” I feel like in the last five years or so I’ve been able to move from a place of strong judgment towards my parents, especially my mother, and into a mindset of greater gratitude and empathy for the work that she has put into becoming a flawed but deeply compassionate person who bears the marks of her upbringing but is also so, so profoundly different from her father. people do the best that they can to heal from the damage they inherit—damage that is inflicted on them by adults before they are old enough to understand or reject what’s being done to them. and because of the deep work my mother has done, I have been able to start so much farther ahead on that path to learning self-compassion and developing emotionally healthier way of being a human being in the world. idk sorry this isn’t really uplifting Christmas content! I just feel like this time of year is when I do a lot of my Deep Thinking about family dynamics and I just want to record that this year has been the least stressful holiday season yet. being an adult! feeling okay in your own self! getting to forge a different kind of relationship with your mother! it’s pretty great. getting older: 10/10 would recommend.

[brodependent]

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam: a meta

Much as I love reading good meta, I don’t often write meta. Thus please accept my apologies if this is mediocre, and let me start with a simple topic sentence:

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam.

A little longer, now: Sam is even better at loving Dean than Dean is at loving Sam because of Dean’s profound and abiding love for Sam.

Confusing, right? But not really.

We all know how Dean lives and breathes SammySammySammywatchoutforSammy. It’s his defining mission, his ultimate purpose, or, as a therapist might say, his “core belief.” But sometimes I think that we allow adult!Dean too little autonomy. We assume that he can’t help himself: he’s locked into this single-minded focus, on loving and protecting the only family he has left.

That sells Dean short. (Hang in there, I promise I’ll get to Sam in a moment.)

Even people who have been forced into a certain way of life have choices. Even people who have been told who they are all their life have choices. Dean tells us, in Season 14, I’m good with who I am--and I, for one, believe him. Whether we follow canon all the way to 15x17, when Dean is finally brought back from the edge of his desire for revenge against Chuck by his love for Sam (the only thing that’s “real”), or whether we keep to season 1 when Dean said--that’s all we have...that’s all I have... and I want us to be a family again and as long as I’m around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you--Dean has always accepted his role as Sam’s big brother. Dean’s life is unabashedly Sam-centric. He’d change a lot of things, but in the end he’d change nothing, because he wouldn’t change that. 

Some fans get very het up about the codependent aspect of this. Others (in my opinion, rightly) defend it. There’s scads of meta on why the Winchester dynamic IS necessary for their mythic role in the narrative, and their human role in the narrative (more importantly), so I won’t write that meta now. All I’m saying is what I think you already know: Dean lives for Sam, his baby brother, and despite the grief, the growing pains, the occasional cruelty of desperate love, Dean said it all when he told Sam (and us), Don’t you ever think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you.

So where does that leave Sam, and his love for Dean? Let’s start with that line I just quoted. Building on the above, Dean’s goal in life is to give Sam a life. He wants Sam to be happy. He wants him to be free. He also wants to keep him by his side forever, to control him for safety and comfort’s sake, and sometimes those instincts of a frightened-child-turned-traumatized-man win out. Dean isn’t perfect. Dean’s full of contradictions. But time and again he goes back to stone number one: what he can do for Sam. What he can offer Sam, by being the grunt, by standing in harm’s way. 

When we begin the story, Sam has succeeded in the path Dean helped carve for him. I’m not taking all the credit from Sam here, and giving it Dean: merely pointing out that Dean stepped into traditional parental roles and helped send Sam into adulthood, even though that meant Sam leaving him. We know that the night Sam left for Stanford was one of the worst of Dean’s life, but even in mid-season 1, Dean tells Sam he’s proud of him. You always know what you want. You stand up to Dad. Hell, sometimes I wish I--

(this, of course, is beautifully echoed in the series finale itself)

Dean is telling Sam what so many parents tell their children: you have gone places I never could, accomplished goals I never could, grown in grace and understanding like I never could. At least, I like to think that’s what the best parents tell their children.

To Dean, Sam is always the one with more hope. More wholeness. More options. To Sam, Dean is stone number one. 

You asked how Sam loves Dean, and my answer is: just look. Look at how Sam goes out into the world young, stands up to their father, makes his own decisions, fights back against Dean’s own nihilistic narrative through their primary losses and setbacks. Dean gave Sam the safety to build a better worldview than Dean himself has, and Sam turns that right back around and tries to give it to Dean. 

What do you think my job is? You’re my big brother--there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. 

I can’t lose you.

You’re not a grunt, Dean, you’re a genius.

This is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother.

I am going to save my brother. And then I’m going to kill you dead.

If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody, you got somebody right here next to you.

I believe in us.

This is just a small collection of Sam quotes showing his love for Dean. A small collection showing the persistent theme of Sam’s persistence. He knows that pushing chick-flick moments and emotional conversations can get jokes for a dime a dozen, and even the occasional punch thrown his way. He keeps at it anyway. When Sam knows Dean’s hurting, he wants to help. He’d do anything to help. He won’t sit around and see his brother turn into an embittered killer (season 2), go to hell for saving his life (season 3), take on the Trials (season 8), be irrevocably corrupted by the Mark of Cain (seasons 9-10), let him despair (seasons 11 and 13), let him sacrifice himself to an archangel’s grave (season 14), or let him lose his goodness to the whims of a vicious god (season 15). Sam fights for Dean with full use of his considerable gifts--intelligence, rationality, resourcefulness, and yes, the occasional blind rage. Sam looks to Dean, first as a leader, then as a judge, and finally as an equal. Sam has been looking up to Dean since he was four, yes, but over the course of the show he comes to look at Dean. With love, peace, understanding, humor, pain...whatever their inimitable connection requires.

The quotes I noted above also reveal Sam’s own conflicts rear up. Sam and Dean (again, in my opinion) are equally developed characters. Both have flaws and inconsistencies. Both have struggles inherent to their personalities and upbringings, distinct from those imposed on them by supernatural forces. 

Sam had a glimpse of a different life, once. He had the smarts, he had the drive, he had the sheer stubbornness to live a different life than John or Azazel or hell, even Lucifer had planned for him. But also in Sam--innate in Sam--is his core of goodness and compassion and the principle of doing right, which leads him back into the life and to soul-crushing sacrifice again and again.

Sam breaks and is broken. Sam suffers and ages and spends more time in hell than even Dean, who went to protect him.

But what keeps Sam going? Dean. Dean can’t live without Sam. We know that. The flip side is that Sam doesn’t want to live without Dean. Importantly, I think, he has more choice in the matter. Dean focused his whole childhood identity on giving Sam a life that meant he had choices, even if Dean didn’t know he was doing that. Sam can move through more crowds, more roles, more relationships. He has a better education, he has a more powerful ability to intellectually reason and detach. He would have made a great lawyer. Yet he casts all this aside out of sheer willpower, choosing instead to love Dean and live with Dean through the chaos of their lives, and to go near mad when Dean is gone. Consider Sam in season 4, Sam in season 10...Sam in season 8 trying to atone for the very choice that Dean (the best part of Dean) wanted him to make, even if the real muddle of Dean’s psyche couldn’t forgive him, for a time, for making it.

All of this leads us to the finale. 

You said you wish Sam had said I love you back to Dean in the finale. I argue that he did. He made his love perfectly clear to Dean in that moment by holding his hand, by looking in his eyes. He said, you can go now, when all he wanted was for Dean to stay. 

The best part of Dean wanted Sam to have happiness and freedom. At the end of his life, Dean was finally able to communicate that without fear or reservation. 

But the bittersweet brilliance of that moment is that Sam--the Stanford boy who went to hell and back, who saved the world, brought down one god and raised another--no longer wanted any kind of happiness or freedom that didn’t include the one person who’d been by his side all along. Dean was giving his blessing for a path that didn’t beckon Sam anymore. And yet: Sam said yes to it out of the love for Dean. Sam went out of that barn, out of the bunker, out of that day and that year and that decade and into the next and the next, out of love for Dean. Sam loved Dean by living. He loved Dean by raising another Winchester. He loved Dean by holding all their contradictions, flaws, and heroisms in his heart (in their car), until he’d done what he set out to do many times over. 

Then he met Dean on a mended bridge, dressed in old clothes that said: I was happiest at the beginning. I was happiest when we could be brothers again. I took my time getting here anyway, because I know that was what you wanted. I took my time so that we could be happiest now.

If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Human!Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: What The Fuck Now, Freddy!?

Notes:

This is not inherently romantic, at all. Or sexual. Just... Freddy being a bastard, and you are caught in the crosshairs- and are forever linked with him because of it.

I've been listening to Lizzie, a lot lately- and this is inspired by 'What The Fuck Now, Lizzie!?'

Also- I'm thinking this will have a part 2. Due to the ending not being quite enough. Maybe a part for the court proceedings!

Plot: Many will know the story of that terrible day Krueger essentially snapped- killing his wife, Loretta Krueger. She saw the basement, they say, and he didn't like that. Their daughter saw the whole thing and suffered a traumatic response to seeing the sight of her mother, strangled to death, by her father- and forgot the whole thing.

But if she were to remember something, one day.

She may remember something no one knows about that day, aside from Freddy himself.

She may remember, that someone else was there.

She may remember you.

//

Alternatively- you're being blackmailed by Freddy who found out you, another supposedly Plain Jane in Loretta's 'mothers club', is cheating on your husband and calls you up to help deal with the mess he made. Because who else did he have?

Warnings: Okay lemme see, its basically a potluck of triggers. Hm. Murder, swearing, cheating (You, on your husband. Not with Freddy), getting rid of a body, a child gets traumatised (Obviously, Kathy/Maggie), Freddy himself, mention of the basement and all that entails, reader with a very questionable moral compass. Look, I think if you can watch Freddy's Dead, you're good here.

I'm just heading out the door, to go grocery shopping - or, at least, that's the story I tell my husband. When really I don't do the grocery shop until the day after tomorrow. He never notices... - when the phone rings. By very nearly tripping over my feet in my endeavour to catch it before the ringing stops, I manage pick up the phone with very little injury besides an achy, slightly twisted ankle. "Hi! Hi, sorry, I'm here. Hello?"

Pouting, I sit down at the kitchen table; Rubbing my poor ankle to sooth the pain, which would soon diminish anyway. Still- I'm sorry, ankle. I'll try to chill.

When the voice on the other end reveals who it is who's called the house, I lose all need to be pleasant. Damn. I really need to memorise this goddamn number... so I can not answer it. "Whatcha wearin'?"

"Thank god Harrison didn't answer this, you fuck." I deeply roll my eyes. Thank god Har's out. No, this is not my mister, not the man I was going to meet just now- but its bad, enough. In an entirely different way. Its stupid, blackmailing, son of a... hundred maniacs. "What do you want?"

"What a way to answer the phone, Y/N. Gee, seems like every time I we talk, I'm learning how you really aren't in the right place, are you? Cheating on your poor husband, swearing... These aren't really signs of the perfect suburban house wife, is it?" Gritting my teeth, I keep from lashing out. I've learned, if you stay real quiet, Freddy wont have anything to pull from and will get bored quick. "Why so silent, hm?"

"... " Oh, fuck me. I cant help it. "Wondering where you get off judging me on being 'suburban', actually."

"Anywhere I like, thanks."

Oh... oh. Gross?

He doesn't see the disgust tearing my face into two perfect halves right now, but my silence must be enough as he laughs. The sound is directly into the phone, and harsh on my poor eardrums. Ugh... "Oh for gods sake... What are we? Fourteen years old?? Come on- why'd you call?"

"Uhhhh... " Quickly, midway through that drawn out 'um' sound, Freddy's voice transitions, and gets a whole lot darker. Something deep in his chest dislodging, to make it so. Perhaps, his heart. "Well... you might wanna come and see for yourself."

"Uh, I don't think so. I have somewhere to be right now- "

"Oh well you don't, anymore." And its clear what he isn't saying- or else I'll tell Harrison about Carter and set your life on fire. "Tell your boy toy you're takin' a reign check for the day. I think you'll last. In fact... after you come over here, you might be out of the game for a couple a hours at least- maybe days."

Hold on, hold on Freddy what the fuck- "What!?"

"... Believe it or not, I didn't actually mean for that one."

Moron.

~

Nevertheless, no matter how just... off setting, Freddy is, I had to when he asked. I had to jump when he said so.

Because if not, then he would tear my life apart.

So here I am, about to knock on that big red door he lives behind, wondering what I'm walking into. Where's Loretta? Where's Kathy? How long will the visit be? I told Carter I'd be an hour or two late- any longer and I wont see him at all today. Which would absolutely suck.

Just after my knuckles come down on the wood the first time, a hand comes down on my shoulder and I immediately jump out of my skin... then slowly look around.

There's Freddy, a cheeky grin on his face. It does nothing to set my nerves at ease. "Ugh... Why are you out here?"

"We're going to the backyard. Lets go." Taking me by the shoulders, he marches me around the side of the house, instead of through it for some reason, and into the familiar backyard. I've been here numerous times, as Loretta likes to hold our club meetings here - Barbecue's, tea's... that sort of thing. Just to let the kids play together and so the adults can enjoy some adult conversation. Its a nice yard... but depending on what her horrid husband is about to show me, it may not be considered as such anymore... - , but I'm now starting to develop a sick feeling in my stomach.

Honestly- I don't know much about Freddy at all. Yes, I went to school with him, but that doesn't mean much when he was a freaky loner kid the whole time. I remember he killed the class hamster once- that's about the only splash he ever made in the news pool; But it definitely stuck.

Yes, Loretta cleaned up his image a fair bit since getting married, but now he's blackmailing me, and as far as I know I'm now alone with him.

Suspicious of him suddenly, I slip out of his grip with a dirty look flashed his way. Don't touch me.

He just rolls his eyes, leading me around some hedges.

And then everything stops.

Him, me, the air; The air around me, the breeze, the breath in my throat.

There lays Loretta, on the ground. If I was really really naïve, I could imagine she were sleeping... or passed out, at least, due to the way she's sprawled out. No one would lay down like that willingly.

But... her eyes are open.

For a moment I'm tempted to kneel down; Take a closer look. Find out how, myself. Is she bleeding anywhere that I cant see now? Are her lips turning blue? If I moved some short red hair out of the way- would their be marks on her neck yet?

But then I come to my senses...

And freak. The fuck. O u t.

"What, the fuck, did you do!?" I whip around, looking at Freddy now which entirely new eyes. I mean, before I sure wasn't fond- but now I'm filled with something new, looking at him. Something a lot worse, something that makes me want to run. Run, and hide, and stay there.

And all these, even though he hasn't really changed. He still wears a mischievous smirk, stony blue eyes eating up my reactions... like always. But this time its just so so much worse. "Made some dead weight- now you're gonna help me get rid of it. So!" Finally, though its been only a matter of seconds, he turns his gaze off of me and I'm glad. That gaze is far too heavy. "Ideas?"

Only for a moment am I lost for words, struggling to push anything out. "I... I'm sorry??"

His gaze returns to mine, but this time my eyes are hard as his are dark. "Help. Me. Get rid of her. Fucking. Body. Or do you want your dirty laundry aired for the whole community to hear?"

Before I can help myself, I let out a sharp laugh, only succeeding in making Freddy's scowl deeper. "Freddy- this secret's a lot bigger, then mine. Sure, I might get divorced- but you're going to prison!" Does he get that? He's g o i n g to j a i l. Crossing my arms, I try to avoid looking at my ex-friend's body. I cant. "I'm sure as hell not gonna be in there with you, for being an accomplice."

I really cant look at her... I can only focus on Freddy. And that takes a lot of energy- its taking everything in me, in fact. Everything I have. But I have to. If its him or her, there's no choice.

But... then a creepy smile spreads across his face- a vast polarity to the frustrated glower of before. It makes my blood run cold.

"Ohhhh..." He looks almost ferocious, even in his composed state. Like a monster. Like any moment a fanged, inhuman creature is going to burst out of him and I'm going to wake up, and this will have been a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The kind where that creature haunts me for a long time, after its over. After this over.

He's going to haunt me.

"You must think this is my first time... " My heart turns to ice, mouth hanging a little open... what the fuck have I found myself a part of!? Suddenly all the children's disappearances on the news lately come to the forefront of my brain... "Sweetheart, give a man his dues. I'm a hard working kinda guy... " I watch his gaze flicker to a door - the back door? No... The basement door, - and when a filthy smirk pulls at his mouth, my heart flies up into my throat. God, it makes me feel sick. I want to be violently ill. "My first was my adoptive Dad... pretty sick, huh?"

The fact that he didn't say anything about the basement, makes my imagination go wild. I swallow it down, though.

I just need to get out of here, and never think about this again.

And to do that I need to help Freddy get rid of this goddamn body- and... probably... testify at court... As the panic starts to finally rise up in my, right up to fill my throat, I immediately take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Okay... " No time to freak out. Now's the time for action.

Gaze flickering to Loretta again, I try to acclimatise to the sight. I think its a lost cause, though. "How did you get rid of him? Your Dad?"

"No, that's not gonna work. He was a drunk dead beat, and I just had to tell the police some guy's he owed money to came over to the house." Freddy grins happily at the memory, but then just as quickly, scowls at his poor deceased wife's body- that certainly cant fight back. I just tack this onto the long list of reasons I hate him. "Lore's such a goddamn goody goody- we cant do the same thing. You don't think I woulda thought of that??"

"Hey." I snap, hands braced on my hips as I flash a glare his way. "This is not the time to get defensive!"

"Whatever... "

Then- suddenly, something occurs to me. Confused, I look around; A deeply horrified feeling disturbing my stomach. "Hold on... Where's your daughter?" Seeing no sign of her anywhere, I definitely start to panic again- especially when I look to Freddy and just see a pert look in his eyes as he looks back at me, a smile that strikes something horrid inside me. My eyes narrow. "You sick fuck- where the fuck is she!??"

"Under the bed."

"What the fuck does that mean!?" I exclaim, frustrated and freaking out. He did not- he did not! Killing your spouse is one thing, but the kid?? Your own kid??

I don't wait around for him to be cryptic some more, and rush right into the house to look for her. Under the bed, under the bed, under the fucking bed...? Which fucking bed!? Forcing ferocity out of my voice, I carefully call out to Kathy. Hoping to god she answers. I try to sound normal. Maybe a little bit cheerful; Excited.

But my voice wobbles.

"Kathy?? Sweetheart, its Y/N! Are you hiding? I have something for you... " ?? You have something for her, Y/N?? God... now you have to figure out some kind of treat.

You know what? Whatever. We'll figure that out later.

Lets just hope we aren't searching for a corpse. I'd definitely be sick, seeing a child... the way Loretta is...

Shaking my head and clenching my fists, I try to focus on Kathy.

I check under the bed in the guest room because it comes into view first and she isn't there, then her bedroom and she isn't there either... and get a sick feeling as soon as I enter the last bedroom. Freddy's and Loretta's.

God, I've never been in here before but its like a museum peace now. A horrible one. Like if you would walk into the Titanic... or the Borden house.

"Kathy? You in here?" Flicking on the light I kneel down on the ground, and check under the bed.

And something immediately crashes over me, as the sight of her covering her eyes down there. It isn't exactly relief, because this whole situation is still phenomenally fucked up for her, but I am selfishly glad to not have to see her body... crumpled, just like her mother.

"Hey sweetheart," My voice quivers slightly now, but I quickly swallow. No. No. Now, you must be strong Y/N. "Its just me. Your Daddy was looking for you, and couldn't find you! It got him worried!"

"I... I don't wanna see Daddy. He hurt Mommy." Kathy doesn't remove her hands from her face, and stays firmly by the wall- too far away for anyone to grab. My heart sinks.

Slowly straightening up again, I try to take that piece of information in. Turning to the doorway, I see Freddy there. he must have followed me. I didn't even notice. Slowly, and quietly ferociously, I say; "She saw?!"

He has the good sense to look embarrassed, even if it is just to make fun of me. "It was spur of the moment... " He shrugs. "I didn't have time to get a babysitter!"

What a fucking excuse. For gods sake.

I'm definitely dealing with a psycho- if that was even a question before now.

Swiftly, I look down under the bed again, because I'm afraid that if I continue to engage with him- I'll scream, and I'll lose my breath, and I'll scare Kathy even more. She's at the forefront of my mind; That's all I can think about.

But what to do with her after I get her out from under this bed, I don't know. I cant give her back to her father... but I cant hand her over to the police either because that would involve telling them about Loretta, and... Freddy will definitely kill me, for that.

This is a nightmare of a situation.

I'm just opening my mouth to say something - what, I don't know yet, - when she speaks, instead. "Is he there?"

"... Yes." I wont lie to her; That would be treating her with not nearly as much respect as she deserves.

When she takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes, as if just trying to keep herself together, my heart clenches. God... and to think I might not have picks up Freddy's call today. I would have been leaving her with this. For the first time today, I'm morbidly glad I came.

She speaks in that loud, hissy way that kids think is a whisper. "Can he... can you please make him go away?"

Immediately I straighten back up and look to Freddy again, my eyebrows raised halfway up my forehead. Like well? "Get out."

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands here, bi- "

"Do you want Kathy to live down there now!??" I snap, trying not to be scared. Not really feeling scared, actually. Just happy to have a reason to tell him to get the hell away from me.

A deep frown creases his mouth, deeply unhappy about the situation, but steps back. I only hear him step out of the way of the door, but its good enough. Quickly, I get up and close the door - fighting with myself not to slam it, - and lock it.

Then I return to the floor, and see this time Kathy has uncovered her eyes. She looks so small, smaller then she actually is, and she looks like she's shaking. Little red bows and piggy tails in her hair are messy from crawling under the bed. "He's gone, sweetheart. And I locked the door."

She just nods, so I take the silence as a chance to offer my hand to her. "Take my hand, sweetie? Come on out from under the bed. Its cold down there, and no one wants you getting sick." I need to upkeep the family friend bit, I need to sound caring and collected. I need her to trust me.

Her big eyes, not Loretta's colour or Freddy's, look nervous as hell. And she shakes her head.

Taking a deep breath, and I conjure all the sincerity as I can. And mean it. My eyes soften and I try really hard, to resent myself as someone trustworthy- which is hard, seeing as I've never really been that. I mean, I'm cheating on my husband. I told Carter today the same lie I told Harrison when i knew I was going to be late. The only person I think who knows the truth behind all my lies is Freddy. That says something about a person, that the only person who knows them is a psychopath.

But I want to, I need to, be good for this little girl. And there's no time for me turn my life around so it has to start with this. How fucked is that?

"... I promise, I'll take care of you. He wont hurt you."

After a few whole minutes, in which I stay silent because yes she's a child, but she's still thinking, she crawls over and takes my hand, letting me lead her out. Crawling into my lap as I cross my legs under her, she buries her face in my shirt- hiding. "You promise?"

Taking a deep breath, because I've really done it now, I offer my pinky for her to see if she turned her head. I know Freddy's listening to all of this through the wall, but I try not to freak out. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear." She peaks out from my shirt, and curls her little finger around mine. Okay... "Y/N... I'm scared."

"Yeah... Me too, sweetie."

What am I going to do?

[mortalfaerie]

STRANDED IN TIME (M. F.) 2/?

Matthew Fairchild x Lost Herondale! Reader

Y/N Herondale gets her just deserts when snooping in Cirenworth's attic sends her back over 100 years.

An indeterminate amount of time passed as you drifted in and out of consciousness. You recalled a silent brother standing over you, buts of hushed and worried conversation, and one occasion when you woke to Tessa sitting by your side, a cold cloth on your forehead and her mixing a tincture by your bedside.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak in your current state, but remembered vaguely that Tessa excelled in healing magic. You tried to reach out to her, but found you lost consciousness again before you could.

When you finally did wake without horrible pain, you found yourself in a narrow bed, in a cotton nightgown you'd never seen, but unmistakably in the London Institute's infirmary, the painted ceiling distinct.

What happened? Did Tessa and Jem take you here because you had been sick? Was Kit okay? Where was everyone? These questions pounded in your head as you stood from the bed, and cautiously padded to the double doors leading to the hallway. You opened the door to look out, but found Tessa and two people you didn't know - one being the man who had carried you - talking outside the door. They all looked to you, pausing, and then Tessa exclaimed, "Oh goodness, you're awake at last."

"I- what happened? Where's Kit? Why are we in London?" You asked, looking rapidly from person to person.

"You should have a seat, if you're able." said the other person - a petite woman of perhaps 40 or 50.

"What's going on?" you asked again, increasingly alarmed. "Is Kit okay? Where's my brother? I want to see him!"

"I'm sure we can help you find your brother as soon as we know who you are." The taller man assured you.

You looked again to Tessa, exasperated. "Tessa, what's going on? You know me, I- Kit and I live with you and Jem and Mina in Devonshire." Your voice started to wobble as panic set in.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't think that we've ever met before now." Tessa said, her face earnestly confused.

Tears spilled over your cheeks as you looked desperately to the other two adults.

"I'm Y/N Herondale." You choked out. "My little brother is Kit, you took us in after our dad was killed. We used to live in Los Angeles but we moved here after the Cohort - Tessa, please, you have to remember me."

At the name Herondale, all parties looked shocked and concerned. You cried earnestly now, shocked and panicked and feeling like you were living in a waking nightmare. You didn't pay much mind as they sheparded you into a chair in the infirmary, and the man called for tea from the kitchen. A blanket was draped around your shoulders, lest you go into shock, and when tea was pressed into your hands you finally ceased crying.

"Now," Tessa said softly, seated beside you and across from the others, "Why don't you tell us from the beginning what you remember, Y/N."

With a shuddering breath, you began. "My name is Y/N Herondale. My dad was Johnny Rook, and my mother was Rosemary Herondale. My mom died before I can remember, and only a bit after my brother Kit was born. We grew up with mundanes were always told we just had the true sight and to be quiet about it, until the day demons attacked my dad at our house, and Kit and I barely escaped with Jem Carstairs and -" you looked to Tessa, "You. We lived in the Los Angeles Institute for a bit, but eventually we decided to go to England with you and Jem when you offered - you said it was because we were the lost Herondale siblings, and that you owed a debt to the Herondales."

You looked to the man and woman across from you, silently imploring if you should continue. The man, who's black hair was flecked with gray and who's blue eyes mirrored your own, cleared his throat.

"Y/N, my name is William Herondale, and this is my wife, Tessa Herondale. And next to me is Charlotte Fairchild, the consul. We don't know how you happened to get here, but rest assured, you will not be turned away."

You could have cried again for relief, but you steeled yourself when the consul nodded to you. "Do you remember what happened before you were discovered outside?"

You nodded slowly. "I was at Cirenworth Hall. Tessa - my Tessa, I guess - gave me a book to read and it inspired me to look around in the attic, and I found something in a box. I - I can't remember what it was, but I remember feeling sick suddenly, and then I was lying in the grass with Jessamine over me."

"You could see Jessamine?" Charlotte asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, my brother and I could both see ghosts after we got our voyance marks. Some that other people can't see, too." You said.

Tessa and Will exchanged a glance, and Will spoke. "That would give credence to your claim of being a Herondale. The issue is, however, that the only living Herondales are myself, my family here, and my sister, now Cecily Lightwood. Our father had a brother, but he and his wife both died before they had any children."

"But his name was Tobias, right?" You asked, gears beginning to turn in your head.

"Yes, actually." Will said, raising an eyebrow. "How would you know that?"

"Because Tobias Herondale was my ancestor. He had a son no one knew about, and that son married a faerie woman..." you trailed off. "And eventually, I happened."

"That raises another question, then." Charlotte said, her expression speculative. "If you are a Herondale, and you bear marks, how is the clave unaware of you?"

"I think," you began, bracing yourself to be called crazy. "That maybe I'm not from this time, or this dimension. I think something I did in the attic sent me here, wherever here is."

"London." Tessa supplied, "July, 1903."

You stood up in shock. "1903? You can't be serious! I - how? I wasn't even born until 1997 - oh my god, Kit, I can't -"

"Y/N!" Tessa exclaimed, placing her hands on your shoulders to push you back in your seat. "Please, calm down, I'm afraid you'll make yourself sick."

You let her push you back into your seat, but stared blankly at the floor as your jaw worked.

"Is such a thing possible?" Will asked quietly to Charlotte.

"To have travelled through time? Not as I know it, but perhaps it could be a cruel faerie trick? It's known that time moves differently in the faerie realms." She replied, still cautious in her tone.

You brought your arms around yourself and hugged your sides as the gravity of your situation set in. Kit - oh god, was he looking for you? Would they know to look in the attic? What would happen to your little makeshift family? You heaved a sob, and the attention of the adults turned back to you.

Tessa - motherly Tessa - let propriety slip and pulled you to her side, and you clung to her for dear life. The consul came closer and passed a comforting hand over your hair.

"No matter how you came to be here," she said softly, "You are a nephilim, and you are displaced and distressed, and so you will always be supported at this Institute. We will do all we can to discern this situation, but you will be in good hands with Tessa and Will."

You hiccuped and met her eyes, seeing genuine compassion in them. She offered you a hesitant smile, and turned to Tessa.

"She will remain here until we are able to reverse this. I will confer with the Silent Brothers on this matter, and see if they know of any case like this. Until then, perhaps she will be treated as a ward of the Institute?"

Tessa nodded, her hold on you still firm. "Of course. We'll see to it."

Will went to see the consul out, and Tessa stayed behind, with you still holding onto her. "Y/N?" she asked, all gentleness and care in her voice. You wanted to believe this was your Tessa, the one who had become like a mother to you, but this Tessa knew nothing of you at all.

"Yes?" you said, your voice hoarse from crying.

"I don't know how you've come here, but I want you to know - I trust what you say. I have seen many impossible things, but still I am met with surprises. I also know that since I am a warlock - I am fated to live many, many years. If you truly were not born until 90 years from now, it's possible you know me in your time. I am sorry that I don't know you, but know that you are safe here."

You squeezed her, and managed to say, "Thank you. You've always been so kind to me. I - I'm glad I crash landed somewhere with you here."

[bump1nthen1ght]

Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 1

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: None

Word Count: 2682 words

Summary: You have a chat with your soulmate

Prologue

“So, you want some?”

He  takes your stunned silence as no, checking that the crab is fully dead before pulling off a leg and biting the meat inside. His teeth catch the light of the setting sun, glinting white in between chunks of crab.

“So were-”

“Soulmates? Yeah, looks like it.” He, your soulmate, cracks off another leg and begins to chew. You find yourself transfixed watching him, mind reeling with questions. He uses the sharp claws on the tips of his fingers to dig out more meat. You’re not even sure where to begin.

“What do we do know?”

He shrugs, sucking out the last of the crab leg and tossing it aside.

“Dunno, guess this mystery is solved though.” He taps his wrist and you get a closer look at his soulmate mark.

It loosely resembles a human compass, yet alien in it’s design.There’s eight large symbols, none of which you recognize, and the arrow is slightly misshapen before straightening to a point.

“I always assumed my soulmate was in the Atlantic or something, maybe even a selkie. When that thought always drove my ma up the reef.” He sighs, pressing his chin against his palm as he lays against a rock. “Wonder how she’ll take this. Maybe she’ll turn a whole new shade of blue.”

His chuckle is low, rough against your ears, but not entirely unpleasant.

You can see more of his backside as he scoots closer into the tidepool. The first thing you notice is just how big he is, his tail stretching from his hips to the open ocean. The second thing you notice are the defined muscles which stretch and flex along his back.

Okay, what the fuck.

There’s a pressure building in your temples and you think you're beginning to overload. Your fucking soulmates eyes wander, looking nonchalant as can be beforeperking up when he sees another crab. His body slithering away from you to snatch it up snaps you out of shutdown mode.

“Uh, I guess….what’s your name?” He doesn’t take his eyes off his soon to be snack, only humming to acknowledge he even heard you. “I think that’s a good place to start, don’t you?” That at least gets you a chuckle, followed by a tiny crack!

“Cruz, you can call me Cruz.” You make eye contact as he takes a long, languid bite of crab. Your furrow your eyebrows, face unimpressed. He lights up with a mischievous grin.

“Is that your real name?”

“Nope,” Cruz says, popping the p and breaking open a claw, “But I don’t think you could pronounce my name so…..”

The tension in your jaw tights as he turns away from you once more,humming to himself and letting out a soft “Oh!” as the other leg reveals quite a bit of meat. You rub your brow and sigh.

“My names _____”

“Neat.”

In high school, your mom got the yearbook epithet “biggest social butterfly.” Your dad, however, was barely presentable on picture day and a social circle consisting of the three fellow chess-club members. You were a lot like your dad in many ways.

The conversation, to say the least, seemed to float on the water like a dead fish, and you had no idea how to resuscitate it. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t natural, it wasn’t that missing piece yoru guidance counselor said it would and dammit, it’s kind of pissing you off. You’re pissed off that it’s pissing you off, because when has making first impressions ever been easy for you? Did you think this was going to be different, because what, a stupid mark on your wrist? That has no basis in logic, not even a little bit.

You refuse to dignify any emotions similar to disappointment which begin to well inside you, because it’s ridiculous. You worked hard to get to California, you’ve worked hard your whole damn life, what's stopping you from working now?

“Welp, seems I scared away all the other crabs.” Cruz huffs and places his hands on his...hips? “Been nice chatting _____, but I got dinner to catch.” Cruz looks back at you as he slinks into the water, sending a salute and a wink.

The words bubble up in your chest before you can catch them as he begins to swim away.

“Wait, but, um, I-” Your commands fall clumsily out of your mouth and barely leaves a ripple on the water. Cruz doesn’t turn around.

You feel the heat sizzling up your neck and face as you look at his back. Flashes of him, the arrow, your mom, that stupid guidance counselor paint the inside of your eyelids.

No.

“Will you wait a second!”

The scream barely echoes in the small tidepool, but it’s enough to catch Cruz’s attention. He whips back to you, eyes slightly wide. You realize just how hard you’re breathing.

“I-, just, can you meet me here? Tomorrow?” Cruz's expression stays still, only the slightest bit of confusion crossing his eyes as he raises his brow. “I want to get to know you better.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

….

….

“What time….. do you want to meet up?” Cruz looks far less mischievous and much more sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with a clawed hand and looking up at you from under his eyelids.

“How about 5PM?”

Cruz narrows his eyes.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Ah, right, merman.

“About three hours before sunset. I mean, do you know how long an hour-”

“Yes, I know how long an hour is. I’m not a pup.” Cruz rolls his eyes

Well, the sass returns.

The two of you stay in that position for a little too long. You begin to rub your arms as the cold of the sea breeze and your social anxiety slowly come back to you.

“See you tomorrow, I guess.” With a hesitant nod, his black-blue eyes looking pensive, he submerges. Your breath comes back to you in a wave as your soulmate swims into the open ocean.

The walk back to civilization is a blur, the pounding voice in your head drawing out all other noise yet barely making sense itself.

You’re not sure what you expected of the first meeting with your soulmate, but it certainly wasn’t that.

---------

The next day, Cruz is waiting for you at the tidepool by 4:55 PM, shucking an oyster with one of his claws. He looks up as your feet splash into the tidepool. You wave.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

It’s an understatement to say the silence is uncomfortable. You take a beach towel out of your bag and begin to lay it on a large rock. The task helps keep your mind distracted, but you feel Cruz’s eyes burn into your back.

“So, I guess, what are you exactly?” You say, sitting yourself down.

“Merman’s best word I’ve heard you humans use, so that.” Cruz has shifted his focus  back on his oyster, which he then downs with one swallow.

“I see, I see. Are all mer-folk as big as you?” That catches Cruz’s attention. A self-satisfied smirk grows on his face as he puffs out his chest.

“Not at all. I’m a Great White and we’re one of the…” Cruz extends his arms art in front of him, flexing his fingers and his biceps in a decidedly braggadocious manner, “bigger species out there.” He finishes his statement with a playful wink. A tiny smile crawls on your face.

Interesting. Male Great Whites are typically around 12 feet, but Cruz is only about 9 feet. I wonder why that is?

“I can see that.” Cruz shifts, ego now lifted, and lays his weight on his right elbow, facing you. “You mentioned a mother, do you have a clan?” Cruz nods.

“Yup. It’s my ma, my dad, my two older sisters, and me. Plus two other families. My ma’s parents were from this reef.”

It’s difficult for you to fight the instinct to whip out your notebook and jot all this down.Your inner scientist screams to pry into the complex social hierarchy and behaviour patterns of this new species. But the more sane part of you knows that would probably be pushing some boundaries.

“Wow, so you’re a true Californian, huh?” Cruz squints his eyes at you. “Uh, that’s where we are. The territory Santa Cruz lies in.”

He gives a low hum, reaching for another oyster  nearby. This movement is far more natural than his earlier show, but you still get a full glimpse of his cut shoulder muscle and tight abdominals. It stirs something in you.

Would he have the swimmer’s V? Okay, stop, focus.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He pries open the oyster, staring at the soft meta inside. “A member of the clan, born and bred.” Cruz brushed the pad of his finger on the shell, his voice holding a quiet bitterness, tinted somber.

Should you comfort him? He’s within touching distance, but the thought of grabbing his hand feels too intimate, soulmate-ship be damned.

Before you can make a move, Cruz throws his head back and gulps down the oyster. He shakes his head and lets out a small “Ah~”, then pushes his short hair back against his skull. Whatever emotion that was there before, it’s gone.

“Where are you from?”

“East Coast, bordering the Atlantic. So you weren’t too far off.”

“Well, I’m not just a pretty face.” Cruz winks at you, but his eye catches a scuttling crab nearby. He gets low in the water, moving slowly to catch it by surprise. You don’t hum the Jaws theme, despite how much you want to.

“No siblings, just me and my parents.” Cruz doesn’t look away, even as he kills the crab.

“Lucky. How big's your clan?” The familiar crack of the shell follows.

“We don’t really,” crack “...have those. Humans can-” crack “We typically live near each other-” crack “but don’t get that-” crack “....close.”

Cruz hums contently, but you can clearly see it’s from the crab and not your one sided conversation. He sucks juice off his fingers. Seems you’ve lost him once again.

I didn’t expect this to be so difficult.

“Have you ever had cooked crab?” Cruz perks immediately, slowly turning back towards you.

Got ‘im.

----------

You return with two warm lobster rolls, a bag of crab legs, and some shrimp scampi. Cruz’s black-blue eyes just peak out of the water, suspicious.

“So these two are lobster, actually, but this,” You shake the crab-bag, “is all crab. I thought I ‘d get you a couple things to sample.”

Cruz’s nose (Is it a nose? There’s a ridge but you’re not sure if the slits count as nostrils. Questions for later.) just breaches the water as you set the crab-bag down and settle on your rock. You grab a couple of legs for yourself before nudging it  closer to him. “Have at it, it’s pretty self-explanatory.” You say midst a large bit of your lobster roll. The whole meal was not cheap, so you decided to indulge in this treat as much as you can. You’ve had a stressful couple of days.

Cruz slowly approaches the plastic, snatching it up quickly before looking inside it. His eyes widen and there's a small smile on his lips as he pulls a long leg out. His smile only grows bigger.

“Oh, also!” You clap, pointing towards the bag and jolting Cruz out of his food-induced joy. “There’s sauce, garlic butter, shit like that in those little plastic containers at the bottom. You dip the crab meat in them.” You take another large bit of lobster roll and hear Cruz break into a crab leg. Cruz gets his mouth ready to take a big bite before pausing. His eyes flit between the lef and the garlic butter, before he slowly pulls the lid off and dips the meat in. Cruz then takes the tiniest bite possible.

His eyes, black as they are, light up. He quickly takes another, larger bite. It’s quite adorable, like a baby trying ice cream for the first time. Cruz devours the leg quickly before snapping into another sauce.

“You like it?” Cruz nods, cheeks stuffed with crab meat as you giggle.

“What kind of craf is fiss?”

“Dungeness. That’s commonly eaten by humans. They’ve got some of the highest meat value and they're all over  the West Coast.” Cruz nods, though you’re not sure he understands parts of your sentence. “They’re also pretty sustainable to fish, although ocean acidity is kinda fucking with their babies. It’s also been fucking with Red King Crabs, which sucks because their only found in like, four places and are so beautiful and also sustainable and-” Cruz has stopped eating and is staring at you. After a big, long breath in you realize how fast you were talking. You feel the what of your blush on the base of your neck. “Sorry, I’ll let you eat. I just...really like crustaceans. A Lot of aquatic animals, but crabs especially are… I’m doing it again. Sorry.” You take a large bite so you won’t have to talk for a couple of seconds, avoiding eye contact with Cruz. You’re sure your chest and arms are bright red; It’s an embarrassing symptom of when you get too excited.

Cruz just keeps staring at you. Frankly it’s the longest he's looked at you and not a nearby snack. You chew the slowest you possibly can, the brioche bun becoming mush in your mouth, to fill the silence.

You don’t see it, but a small smile widens on his face. He picks at his empty crab shell.

“I think those facts are crab-tastic.”

You immediately choke on a bit of lobster roll, pounding your chest as you sputter between mouthfuls. When your eyes stop watering, you see Cruz has moved closer to you, hand outstretched and a couple inches from resting on your calf. He jerks it back when you look down at him.

“Wow, thanks, but puns aren’t really part of my vocrabulary.” You obnoxiously wink, scrunching up the left side of your face. Cruz laughs. Not a chuckle, but a full, belly laugh.

“Well I find them quite crab-tivating.” A larger laugh bursts from your chest as he mimics your wink and shoots you another big smile.

The sharp teeth are beginning to grow on you, adding to Cruz’s boyish charm. You feel the hot blush in your chest crawl up your neck once more.

Oh fuck.

Cruz reaches for another crab leg but hits the bottom of the bag, a playful pout now on his chin.

“Here, try this next.” You hand him the second lobster roll. “Probably don’t want to get this one wet, it’ll be soggy.” With no hesitation Cruz digs in, perking up once more and going to town. His teeth serate through the bread like butter. Within 4 bites, the entire roll is gone.

“Dang, I’ll make sure to bring some more food next time.”Cruz pauses, mid-lick of the butter on his claws and looks up at you.

“Next time? You want to meet up again?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Well yeah, don’t you?”

Cruz stays quiet, no sassy comment or a sarcastic look. Just staring, mildly shocked.

Your embarrassment bubbles back, screaming you’ve misread this whole situation and the last few minutes. “I mean, we are soulmates. Shouldn’t we meet up again?”

Cruz's eyes narrow as a barrage of thoughts seem to flit across his head. His smile recedes back into a straight line, that little spark leaving his eye.

“Yeah, I guess we have too.” He crinkles up the plastic bag, shoving it against your calves. “See you tomorrow.”

A pit rolls in your stomach as he quickly moves to leave.

Did I say something wrong?

“Uh, I’m actually busy tomorrow. Can we do Thursday-er, 3 days from now?” Cruz nods, not turning around to face you before slipping back into the water and swimming away.

The pit doesn’t leave your stomach, an empty sauce container rolling across the rocky shore.

What just happened?

[holykillercake]

Hazy Justice - 03

01 02 03

🇨‌🇴‌🇵‌!🇸‌🇲‌🇴‌🇰‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇽‌ 🇲‌🇮‌🇱‌🇮‌🇹‌🇦‌🇷‌🇾‌🇩‌🇴‌🇨‌🇹‌🇴‌🇷‌!🇷‌🇪‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇷‌

word count: 2.5k

summary: After eight years serving your country in a war, you returned to your hometown as the new head of Trauma Surgery in one of the best hospitals in the country. You were expecting a calmer life now, but suddenly you see yourself choosing between your brain and your heart, light and dark, justice and evil.

highlight: ¨You looked like millions of dollars, and you felt like millions of dollars.¨

warning:  Use sunglasses. Too bright.

notes: .Dear comrades, it has been a while but it's finally here! With new characters and lots and lots of threads.

🇱‌🇪‌🇦‌🇻‌🇪‌ 🇨‌🇴‌🇲‌🇲‌🇪‌🇳‌🇹‌🇸‌, 🇭‌🇪‌🇦‌🇷‌🇹‌🇸‌, 🇦‌🇳‌🇩‌ 🇱‌🇴‌🇻‌🇪‌!

¨Hello...¨ you were instantly greeted by the tingling doorbells that let the owner know whenever a client entered the establishment. 

Your eyes traveled to the half-moon bar where the slim and tall woman leaned casually, cigarette adorning her elegant fingers. Her eyebrows raised as she took in your figure, double-checking if you were not someone else.

¨Oh! Y/N-chan, is that you?¨

¨Shakky!¨ she made her way out of the bar to hug you ¨It´s so good to see you! You haven´t changed at all!¨

Her kind chuckle made you feel like a kid again, and you couldn´t stop yourself from tearing with the nostalgic feeling.

 ¨Thanks, Baby. Now you,¨ she put her hands on your shoulders and opened a distance, eyes examining you like a mother hawk ¨you look tired. Eight years in war made you no good.¨

You nodded and laughed ¨I guess we can put it that way.¨

¨Come, treat is on the house.¨ 

Clapping your hands, you followed the lady towards the bar. ¨So, where´s Rayleigh-san?¨ 

¨He just left, but it shouldn´t take long. He´ll be happy to see you, Y/N-chan.¨

The circumstances that connect you to Shakky and Rayleigh go way back to decades ago when your parents were still alive. By that time, all you knew was that they were friends, people you could trust. You were not allowed to ask more questions about their jobs, and you couldn´t find a suitable answer with the information you had. 

They were always on the road, visiting only once in a while. They would bring incredible gifts from various countries and discuss ¨adult matters¨ with your parents while Crocodile helped you with homework. 

Whenever you brought up your curiosities to your brother, he would say that they talked about the war, and you were too young to hear such things. Crocodile was also not allowed in the room, but he´d always peer into the conversation through the ventilation ducts. 

If he´s saying, it must be true.  

Since your dad was a Lieutenant Colonel, there was always the possibility of his unit being requested to offer back up or engage actively. You never minded it, though. He had already been sent to a lot of dangerous missions, and he came back every single time. He was strong and invincible. He would always return to his family. 

Well, that was true until the day you found your mother in the kitchen, breaking in tears, holding a smudged letter in her hands, together with your father´s dog tag. 

You stared at her and your brother, blinking in the hope of seeing what was wrong. The woman at the kitchen table did not look like your mother. She had no sparkle in her eyes or pride in her chest.

On the contrary, thick and dark tears fell from her eyes, blurred from the makeup that always accentuated her piercing gaze. Her lips were not curved in the tender smile she used to carry. Instead, she bit her lower lip so hard that you could almost see blood staining her pink lipstick.

¨Dad´s not coming home.¨ was all Crocodile said.

That was not the time when things got completely off track, but it was a significant change in your family's life. The government offered a military pension and a country flag for the services provided by your father. However, you had to be transferred to the Commercial District, where your mother worked as an archivist at the Ohara Institute of Historical Research. 

¨Y/N?¨ you heard a male voice call, making you turn. 

Your eyes shifted between the two male figures standing at the door. ¨Rayleigh-san!¨ you shouted like a kid seeing Santa Claus at the shopping mall ¨Smoker!?¨ this one came out more like a question. 

¨You have grown, little one!¨ he patted your head like old times. ¨Maybe my white hair makes sense. I´ve aged!¨ he laughed cheerfully, and Smoker tilted his head. 

¨Finer than wine!¨ you giggled, then turned to the other white-haired man, cheeks blushing ¨This is, uhm... I swear I´m not following you.¨ 

¨Oh, you two know each other?¨ Shakky asked, adding two more old-fashioned glasses on the counter. 

¨We´re neighbors!¨ 

¨That´s great! Come, we have a lot to talk! Today is on the house!¨ Rayleigh shouted similar words as his wife. You wondered if that was the synchronization of personalities or if the alcohol he had prior was impairing his judgment. 

Shakky decided to close for the day, wanting to spend as much time as possible in your company. The clock seemed to have stopped while you were drinking, eating snacks, and catching up on years of conversation. 

It was funny how sometimes it felt like a ping pong game between you and Rayleigh. Every so often, the conversation would turn into matches of him serving shots of military-wise improper questions and you backhanding with ¨That´s classified information, Rayleigh-san.¨.

Did he have a poor memory or all those years of scotch and cigars in your father´s office taught him nothing? Either way, you were having too good of a time at that table to worry about his faulty memory. 

¨Are you sure you´re neighbors?¨ Shakky asked with a playful grin ¨You seem to know nothing about each other.¨

¨I would say that´s a pretty sharp point.¨ you answered in the same lighted tone. 

¨Tight schedules, I´d say.¨ Smoker added, shifting on the couch.

¨But it looks like you´re free today. How about dinner? Four of us, our house, like old times Y/N.¨ Rayleigh seemed too keen on this, and you wondered if he was trying to set you up on a date. 

¨Well, as much as I would love that, I´ve got plans for tonight.¨ 

¨Let me guess,¨ Rayleigh created a tension ¨classified information?¨ 

You laughed loudly at his stupid joke. It was a predictable Ray-san ice breaker, but you couldn't help yourself. This man was a blissful delight. 

¨Much to your content, tonight´s plan I´ll be able to spill.¨ you teased him ¨I´m having dinner with Crocodile tonight!¨ 

What happened after you pronounced those words would have gone unnoticed by someone inattentive. It felt like a slight change in the air, like those quiet moments before a bomb exploded, when the clock stopped ticking. 

You didn´t have the chance to question before Shakky took the wheel. 

¨That´s great, Y/N!¨ her elegant hands embraced yours, affectionate and caring ¨Did you see how much he´s changed?¨ 

¨Uhm, actually,¨ you blinked, focusing back on the conversation ¨it´s the first I meet him in... eight years.¨ 

The tightness you felt in your chest almost made you tear, and the woman saw it. Her eyes carried a hint of compassion... or pity. 

¨You miss him a great deal, right, Baby?¨ 

¨Yeah...¨ you shrugged ¨he was out of town when I arrived, so I only got the chance now. But how´s he doing? Did he change a lot?¨

¨Oh, baby, it´s been a while since we met. He´s a busy man, you know.¨ 

Your brows raised, then furrowed, and you had a perplexed smile hanging on your lips. You would not have believed those words if they hadn´t come directly from them. 

¨Oh, wha- well, I´ll¨ a nervous laugh left your mouth ¨I´ll drag him by the hair, then! Busy man, bullshit! He used to bug mom and dad all the time, asking why you guys couldn´t live with us!¨

¨Don´t stress yourself over that, Y/N.¨ Rayleigh said with his gentle smile.  ¨He runs a lot of businesses, I´m sure he would drop by more if he could.¨ 

Shakky nodded¨And, it´s your first time in the Light District, right? Was that the only district you haven´t lived in yet?¨

¨That and the Noble District, obviously.¨ you rolled your eyes.

¨You lived in all other districts?¨ Smoker asked after a silent moment in the conversation.

¨Yeah, long story and not that interesting. You´d be bored, trust me.¨ 

¨It´s rather difficult to find someone who lived in more than two districts, so I´d like to hear that.¨ 

¨Alright, but don´t say I didn´t warn you.¨ 

You peeked at your wristwatch, running some basic math in your head and deciding that it was time to go if you didn´t want to be late for dinner. Your lips twisted in a pout, and your expression dropped a little for having to leave this fantastic moment.  

Surprisingly enough, leaving them was not as difficult as you imagined. Maybe because they reminded you that you could visit them anytime now, or because you did not want to act like a crybaby on Smoker´s car. 

He said it was also about time for him to leave and offered you a ride back home. You would not have to take the subway and would get the chance to know him better.

 A win-win situation. 

The first minutes were a bit silent, but after you asked him if he should be driving since he had quite a lot to drink, he responded with an awkward stuttering that was rather charming. The conversation that followed was smooth as you realized he was way easier to talk to than you imagined. 

Smoker was respectful, always making sure that it was ok for you to talk about your past while sharing some things about his life as well. Inside of that car, he almost seemed like a different person. His brows were not furrowed ad his voice sounded relaxed. 

The ride ended too fast for your liking, and you saw yourself waving goodbye when deep down you wanted to ask him to stay for a coffee. Unfortunately, you couldn´t, maybe some other day. Now you had to make yourself presentable to meet your other half, your brother. 

                                                            ...

The Light District was nothing like you had seen before. The entrance was marked by a gigantic golden arch, which carried an equally shining bell.

Tall palm trees swayed in the cool breeze, tinged with orange by the sunset. Luxurious establishments, whose signs began to be lit, occupied both sides of the clear sidewalk. 

From a distance, you could see the tip of the Ferris wheel of the Sora park. It did not spin due to the recess, but the lights remained on. The roller coaster that had been the cause of the accident was surrounded by tall metal poles, being repaired for the reopening of the place.

The driver Crocodile sent to pick you up lowered the window so you could enjoy the view to the fullest. Your hair started to fly in the wind, and a delicious smell of butter invaded your nose. The restaurants had already begun to heat up the pots to receive their customers.

The Light District was projected to offer convenience to the ones who were willing to pay the price. Therefore, all that was best was located in Eldorado Avenue, the main passage that extended for kilometers like a luxurious and soft red carpet. 

¨We are approaching the hotel, miss Y/N. Sir Crocodile awaits for you.¨

¨Uh...¨ you murmured, amazed by the view. 

You squinted when something reflected in your eyes, catching your attention, and a gasp got stuck in your throat when you spotted the famous Hotel Verde.

 Well, it was impossible not to notice it. 

First of all, it did not look like a hotel. It resembled more a small town. Even taller palm trees guided the way towards the entrance, both sides occupied by ponds and tropical plants. The building stood tall like a lighthouse and at the top rested an enormous golden statue of the reptile that represented its owner.  

You did not wait for Daz, the man your brother chose to escort you, to get out when the car stopped. You put yourself out as soon as the limo parked in front of the main stairway. After so many years without putting on a heel, maybe you would accept a hand to go up the stairs.

Your hands smoothed the dark green silk dress that dragged on a short tail, courtesy of Crocodile, along with shoes and jewelry. You looked like millions of dollars, and you felt like millions of dollars.

When the valet took the car somewhere else, Daz put himself beside you, offering you his arm. Your heart pounded like the Ox Bell at every step, and you breathed through your mouth, trying to keep your cool. 

You saw various types of people coming in and out of the hotel, all of them embellished with jewels and shiny tackles like Christmas trees. Each and every one exalted wealth and power, with their nonchalant glares and pointed noses. Your gut twisted, remembering Shakky and Rayleigh´s words, wishing Crocodile hadn´t turned into someone like them. 

The long stairway was divided in the middle by a golden rail, separating who went up from who went down. That might have been the reason why the man coming down your way caught your attention. Or perhaps it was the weight of his gaze, hidden by the reddish specs. His blonde hair and skin seemed like gold, the pink suit looked orange-ish due to the sunset, and his wide grin made you quiver. 

He walked with two men by his side, freeing the way for him. At some point, no one dared to come close to the stairs. It was only the five of you. 

¨Daz!¨ the man, who seemed more familiar now, exclaimed ¨I wonder who´s the person that would make you leave your boss´back.¨

He approached you, hungry gaze brimming on his tongue. He was tall and seemed even more as he closed the distance. 

¨Not even the luxury dolls get to be escorted.¨ he gently took your hand and kissed your knuckles with delicacy. 

You weren´t convinced by his gesture. If anything, you felt bothered to see him disrespecting the house´s rules, as if that disrespected you directly. ¨Tell me, dear, what is your name?¨

¨If you wish to know something from someone, it is more appropriate to introduce yourself first.¨ your voice came out indifferent and a vein popped on his forehead before breaking into laughter.

¨Fufufu I can´t say you are wrong!¨ he leaned back, large hand on his stomach. ¨I´m Donquixote Doflamingo. It surprised me that you couldn't put that together. Now tell me, doll, what do they call you?¨

You sighed and looked around, spotting a figure at the top of the stairs that lifted your mood and gave you all the strength and confidence you needed to end the conversation. A smile grew on your lips as you turned to Doflamingo, eyeing him with nothing but the will to leave. 

¨They call me Lieutenant-Colonel Y/N L/N, Division Surgeon of the Army. Or just LT Colonel L/N if you prefer.¨ you offered him a respectful nod before turning your attention to the man who waited for you with a smile on his face. ¨Now, if you excuse me, Mr. Donquixote.¨

[babiesdreams]

Cry for me kim dongyoung

Warnings: death of a character, blood and mentions of violence, mental health issues :]

This is part of the collab with @slightlymore

What shall define a Kingdom’s faith? If war brings hunger and death, Illness and misery, and peace is meant for the weak ones. What is the real goal of a king? Is is power? Trust? Love? Benevolence? Or is it just an infinity war for a land of nobody, while people still die from hunger? If a man cannot be trusted to make the simple task of protecting the kingdom, I shall do it instead.

“I told you a hundred times, you are not going to this war” Your father’s firm voice gets you more and more furious over time. “I don’t care what you want. I’m the future queen. I know how to fight. Let me go to war!” You order him, but he stays still, not allowing a single protest out of your mouth after he says “Take her to her room” Your furrowed brows don’t help to soften his expression nor his heart, and soon you’re yet again imprisoned in your room.

You look into the mirror, cursing over your destiny and tears start appearing in your eyes. “I will go to that bloody war” You slowly whisper to yourself. There’s truly a lot of things you could lose in there, but your father shouldn’t go by any circumstances, he barely recovered from his last injury, going to war was a clear death. And he didn’t want you to do something about it? No way. You weren’t just a princess, you were the future queen, and you were going to fight like one.

So when everyone left the castle in March, you started taking your plan to action. You made every maid of the castle gather around, making a plan together as to how you should get into war. Some of them decided to remain in the castle, one of them pretending to be you. And the rest got their armour from the castle's hidden rooms, along with sharp swords.

Months of practice were required before you could properly leave the castle. So by June, you all got the best horses and rode them across the kingdom until getting to the border with the problematic neighbour kingdom. You ride your horse with grace, hurting the enemies that got on your way. The heavy metal helmet over your head, covered your famous face from the warriors. And when you stop, right in the middle of the battlefield, you are able to notice the amount of blood that paints the ground with a scary shade of red.

You look everywhere, impatient to find your father, hopefully lost in the crowd. But he’s nowhere to be seen, making your desperation grow inside of you. Your allies keep fighting different enemies in different positions around you, which makes you kind of the center of attention, as you’re still not fighting anyone. You notice a strong presence coming your way when you hear horse steps nearby. You lift the heavy sword, easily, compared with how hard it was during your training. The sharp weapon points directly to the unknown figure.

“Have you seen the king?” You ask as low as you possibly can, trying to hide the fact that you were a woman. Your breaths get heavier as time passes by, the thought of being vulnerable in front of the enemy wasn’t really pleasant. “You mean your king?” He says, looking down at the refined decoration over your horse, with your kingdom’s colors. “Yes” You simply reply, analyzing him as well. His horse was slightly injured and the soldier’s leg was bleeding out over the white horse’s skin.

“I haven’t seen him” His tone seems somehow suspicious, but you’re not quite sure if it’s the fact that he doesn’t trust you or the fact that he indeed knew where your father was. “I see you’re injured, I won’t fight an injured man. But I won’t hesitate to fight back if you attack me” Your words come out with anger, kind of losing your manly tone, but still not as high-pitched to make it suspicious. “Let’s not harm each other then” He says, making his horse run into the crowd again.

You get off your dark skinned horse, looking into the animal’s eyes, finding comfort in them, and after a few seconds, you start running around the battlefield, in search of your father once again. It doesn’t take you a lot of time to find his body, agonizing on the ground, while the soldier you left behind minutes ago was standing right next to his body. “DAD” You shouted, running even faster towards him.

You get your helmet off your head, kneeling next to his lying figure, caressing his face, completely covered in his own blood. “Why did you come here?” He asks slowly, sounding almost as a whisper. “Why did you come? You were already sick. We- We have to take you back to the castle, If we are fast enough-” His raspy voice stops you from talking any further. “This is the end. Don’t worry about me, but the kingdom, that’s what being a queen means”

Tears fall down your cheeks, until they are stopped by his big hand, wiping them off. “Dad” You call him in between loud cries. “I love you, more than anyone” He whispers, as his eyes close slowly, losing the last bits of life in him. Your cries get louder, as you hold onto his big cold hands, giving yourself a second to process it. After a while, you get up, slowly, supporting yourself on the ground as you do, and then you lift your sword up screaming “Who killed him? Who killed the king?” Your eyes fix on the bloody ground and, this time with a lower tone you ask “Who killed my father?”

Everyone’s eyes are on you, contemplating the scene, without saying anything nor making a single sound. “I did” The tall boy in front of you says, getting his helmet off. That’s when you realize the man you spared minutes ago, the man you felt bad about, was not only the enemy’s king, but also your father’s killer. “You….” You say slowly, lifting your head, to look at Doyoung’s face, as he breathes in and out, recovering from his battle. “I’m gonna kill you” You scream, lifting your sword in his direction, but a strong arm stops you. “Let him be” Mark whispers in your ear.

Mark was your father’s bestman, always protecting him and the reason why he survived previous wars, so for you, the fact that he was defending Doyoung made no sense at all. “Why?” You ask him, starting to cry once again. “Why shouldn’t I kill him?” Your screams make the boy step back, letting you do whatever you wanted, but the moment your sword touches Doyoung’s neck, making a light cut on it, you realize how you’re unable to do it, even if you wanted to. “I’m not like you” You tell him, getting your sword off his skin.

“Let’s go home” You tell Mark, as you walk away from the scene.

Once in the castle, everything gets cleared out by Mark. “Your father wanted peace between the two kingdoms, that’s why we can’t attack them from now on” His calm voice starts explaining. “How are we gonna be in peace, he killed the king” You protest at his words.

“They don’t know that, and you two…” Something in the way he stops his sentence, scares you out. “What? We two what?” Your concerns can be noticed in the way you speak. “He ordered you two to get married” The boy says, looking down, already knowing what your reaction was gonna be like. “Married?! Are you crazy? I’m not gonna marry anyone and I won’t marry my father’s killer. There’s no way I’m doing that.”

“People don’t like to be under a woman’s control” Mark says with a low voice. “I’m the Queen, I’ve been preparing for this moment my whole life, and I don’t need to marry him or anyone to be a good Queen”

“I know that, but they don’t” Mark says slowly. You try to think of the situation, if your father ordered that, there might be a reason. But then, again, he was killed by that boy, that wasn’t a good sign. How were you gonna even appreciate him, he was so… disgusting in your eyes. And people would even expect you to have kids.

The only thing you really wanted was to make decisions about the kingdom, help people, change unfair situations, just be a good Queen, like your father taught you. But you knew how people didn’t like the way a woman could govern a whole kingdom on her own, so maybe he was right and you needed to get married in order to get what you wanted. Also, marrying him meant stopping the war in between the two kingdoms and letting soldiers rest, the economy get better, and in general help your kingdom grow.

“I’ll think about it” You tell him, before you run towards your room. You take off the last pieces of the heavy armor, and look into the big mirror in front of you, recalling the moment of your father’s death. You can’t help but be mad about him. Your father wasn’t a bad soldier, and that boy was injured, he could’ve won for sure. You sigh loudly, letting yourself fall onto your big bed. Your eyes look at the ceiling, as you keep thinking about what happened and how it happened.

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

Doyoung’s horse fastly gets closer to the given position. The pact was clear, the king had to die in order to regain peace in between the two kingdoms. Since he killed Doyoung’s father in the previous war, people weren’t so happy about him, but his daughter was seen with different eyes. Everyone admired her fierce yet peaceful personality and her beautiful looks. So the king agreed on having a fake honor death, to let the kingdoms live in peace.

The young boy gets off his horse, slowly walking towards the already injured old man. “Are you sure about it?” He asks, with a low voice tone, and the old man simply nods, not fighting back to the sword’s pain. He falls onto the ground. Pain could be perceived in his eyes, as he tried his best not to scream nor cry. Doyoung kneels down next to him, and grabbing his hand he whispers “Let go, it won’t hurt as bad” But the old man’s pride was over the need for rest. A smile forms on Doyoung’s face, as in his head the image of that man turns into his own father’s last moments.

Heavy steps are heard nearby, making him stand again. When he sees that girl arrive all he can think about is the moment he found his father’s dead body, feeling compassion about the situation, he steps aside. The whole scene passes by pretty fastly, almost like the boy didn’t want to go through that at all. “Let’s go home” He whispered with a low, concerned voice to his best man, who had been watching all along, wanting to make sure he was alright, yet too scared to interrupt.

The ride home felt eternal for both of them. On one hand Doyoung couldn’t stand how Renjun checked on him as if he was some sort of sick man, unable to control his feelings. And on the other hand, the young new princess was battling over sadness and anger, getting a bittersweet sensation after her father’s death.

“So, you already love her” Renjun says, giving up on his never ending questions and letting his back rest on the carriage’s soft seat. “Where does that come from?” He asks, raising a brow to the shocked boy. “Were you even listening?” His offended voice made Doyoung’s blood boil out of anger. “I was, and you just came up to that idea out of nowhere” He defensively replies, getting his handkerchief to apply some pressure over his injury.

“I care about the kingdom Renjun, like my father did” His voice starts off sounding firm and calmed, as it was usual on him, but as the word father comes in, a sad and melancholic tone can be appreciated too. “Okay, I was just saying that your eyes soften when they look at her face” The young boy replies without a single hint of empathy for Doyoung, who simply sighs as an answer.

But it was certainly something growing inside the young King’s heart, something he hardly got to experience throughout his life. Something confusing and fascinating.

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It was finally the big day, and you couldn’t help but curse over your own name, for accepting such a simplistic and unwanted future for yourself, for letting every single drop of ambition drown and disappear in a lake of sadness. Destiny wasn’t your main belief, but certainly this wasn’t made for you.

“I’m just saying that I don’t even appreciate him, I hate that man” You scream to Guangheng, who was the butler assigned to help you prepare for the wedding, while he could also make sure that you wouldn’t run away. “It needs to be done” He replies, with a simple and emotionless voice tone, which makes you return to reality, realize why you were doing this and how you needed to go along with it.

“Hey” Mark enters the room, instantly noticing the heavy atmosphere and comprehending the situation. “Hey, look if you don’t want to do this it’s fine, we can always run away right?” He looks at you for reaffirmation but all he gets is a sad look. “Right?” He repeats, looking at the serious butler now, who replies with a deadly glare that speaks on its own. “You guys are really no fun at all. Look most of the queens marry the old ugly king and get some affairs right after, you got a young decent looking man, I wouldn’t protest if I were you” His words get inside your head, making you mad at him, maybe just projecting the anger you felt about yourself onto someone else, to make the guilt fly away for a second.

“Then be me” You simply reply grabbing your crown and placing it over the boy’s head. Remember the make the guilt fly away thing? Well, it didn’t work.

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“Yes I do” Doyoung’s eyes were truly filled with that something that only Renjun could notice, the way he looked at the girl wasn’t usual on the young king, but for those, who weren’t used to being around him it could be impossible to notice. “Yes I do” The contrast in the girl’s voice, body language and expression, were enough to tell apart the difference between who was being forced to get married and who wasn’t.

The wedding went on as usual royal weddings do, a lot of celebration and happiness, from everyone except the married couple. But the spacious garden of the queen’s castle was lonely enough for her to think and get a break from acting happy. You see, there’s sometimes that sorrow can’t be completely buried under a fake smile. And that’s what the queen was going through, even if she thought the king wouldn’t notice the way her eyes were full of tears, that wasn’t enough to fool him.

She was sitting on an old looking swing, decorated with all sorts of flowers, making it look like another branch of the big old tree it was hanging on. “Do you come here often?” Doyoung’s voice in the distance is the last thing that the girl wanted to hear, since all she was seeking at the moment was peace and silence.

“Go away please” Her forced voice whispers, and even if it’s the softest kind of sound that you could possibly imagine, the boy hears it as clear as if it was his own thoughts, but still he pretends like he didn’t, just to have an excuse to get closer to the girl that he could now call his wife. “That corset might hurt” He points out when he notices the restrictive piece of clothing on the girl’s white dress. “It does, but I can’t take it off” She replies, fixing her sight away from the boy, since every look inside his dark eyes made her blood boil.

“May I?” The boy asks, almost touching the girl’s corset laces. “Sure” She simply replies, making the boy’s fingertips grab the laces carefully as his skillful hands were unmaking the tight hold of the said corset. He tied it in a way that it still looked somehow tight but without the pressure that it implied. “Are you used to working with corsets?” The girl asks with an ironic tone, hiding her genuine curiosity.

“My mother taught me how to tie and untie them” His gentle voice replies, as he sits on the ground, full of soft flowers that almost feel like sitting over a cloud. “Have you worn them?” She asks, turning her head slightly, not enough to look at him, but definitely enough to let him see her face. “I did. It’s a nice protection from swords” His words were genuine, but it sounded unreal.

“You’re telling me that you’ve worn corsets for fights?” The girl asks, with a noticeable doubt tone to her sentence, provoking the boy to chuckle as he nods. Doyoung’s gentle hands slowly lift his shirt, revealing a white corset tied even tighter than the girl’s one. “Oh” The girl just says processing the unusual situation.

After a short but painfully awkward silence, both laugh nervously. “I’m sorry about your dad” Doyoung says with a serious and low voice tone which completely breaks the peaceful atmosphere. “Wow, you really are incredible” The girl says, standing up from the swing and walking away, without letting him protest for a single second.

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You start running only when you’re sure he can’t see you anymore. Tears keep falling down your cheeks as you repeat to yourself how stupid you have been, by letting the idea of the young king being good to appear in your brain. You were by the lake, sitting on the soft grass as your now bare feet touched the freezing water, provoking goosebumps to run all over your body.

“He’s not that bad” Mark’s voice sounded in the distance and you instantly stopped crying, not wanting him to see you being vulnerable. “I don’t care about what my dad said, nor what people think of me. I don’t need a man and I certainly don’t need him” Your voice is firm and steady, not hesitating about the words that have been on your mind for quite a long time now.

“Well it’s too late to say that, don’t you think?” Mark sits next to you, getting his expensive looking shoes off so that he could feel the cold water as well. “Don’t you think people will pity a sad widow?” You ask, finally looking at the boy’s face. His eyes fix on yours, processing what you just said. “You know you could never kill him” His soft voice whispers, as he looks down to the grass.

Your hand looks for the bottle you’ve been working on for the past months, showing it off to him. Mark looks at the glass bottle, and its black content, laughing right away. “If the thought of it makes you feel better, you can work on poison for years, but you know you’re not that type of person”

“But what if I am? What if I want to avenge my father? Can’t I?” The emotions in your voice are more than noticeable, nobody expected you to act like nothing happened, so there’s no surprise in Mark’s eyes when he notices tears filling your eyes. His hand cups your cheek softly, caressing your soft skin in slow motions. “You don’t need to go through this alone” He whispers, getting closer to you as he does.

“I wish we could be kids again” You say, sniffing as you try to get your tears out of the way. “Okay, what if” He says, smiling at his sudden thoughts. “What if?” You ask intriguedly, looking at the boys eyes directly. “What if we act like we did when we were kids, just today, and then we go back to our boring adult lives” You smile at his idea. “Just today” You repeat, grabbing his hand, still on your right cheek and once more, the boy repeats “Just today”

You stand up, untying the knot Doyoung previously left on your corset. Slowly you get the different pieces of clothing off you until you are just in your underwear and just then, you jump into the lake. The freezing water feels somehow warmer, as your body is filled with adrenaline. Shortly after you feel the big splash of water when Mark jumps in, swimming closer to you. “It used to be warmer back then” The boy says shivering because of how cold it was. You laugh at his cute reaction to the lake’s water. “It’s winter you dummy, of course it’s colder” You say, patting his head, as if it would warm him.

“How come you are not cold?” His cute voice asks, almost like a whisper, but this time it’s not because he wanted to, but because he really couldn’t talk louder. You grab his shoulders and pull him closer to you, giving him a hug to help him warm up. His arms grab your waist, pulling you even closer and, slowly he begins to understand the nature of your warmth.

As kids you two would always play around, train, fight, swim, jump, run, but now you were forced to stay in the palace, put on corsets, smile, and “act like a queen” this jump, even the party was the most exciting thing you’ve done since the war finished. His hug tightens, as he thinks about what you had to go through, how you had to forget who you were, and what you loved for something you didn’t even ask for. “Are you okay?” You ask him, feeling how his body stopped shivering a few minutes ago.

“I am” He whispers, caressing your hair with his hand. “You know, I’ve always loved your hair” You laugh nervously, not understanding what’s gotten into the boy. “When we were kids you said it was your pride, and you never let anybody cut it, or touch it”

“You’re right” You say slowly, remembering how you used to be in those times. “And you always tried to touch it, just to make me mad” You add, smiling at the innocent memories. “Until the day you let me” He pulls off the hug slowly, as he looks at your face cupping your cheek with his cold hand. “I hope that the king earns to touch it as much as I did” You smile, getting closer to him. “He will never be like you” You say and the boy only replies with a kiss on your forehead, before he swims away, and gets out of the lake.

“You better get dressed before someone undesirable passes by” He says and, after a second he walks away.

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It was a mix of feelings, a really confusing one. Watching from the distance truly felt like something wrong to be doing, but the way she smiles, has fun, the way she looks at him… That’s all Doyoung was seeking for. It was strange to feel this way for a girl he barely knew, but deep inside he felt like he had known her for his whole life, and having the dramatic story in between them seemed like an unfortunate and cruel destiny.

But when the boy’s hand rests on the girl’s cheek, it is too much for the young king to handle. His blood was boiling from jealousy so he decided to let it go and walk into the party again. The girl’s palace was really different from what he was used to. The boy always lived in his dark Gothic castle that looked more like a giant empty cathedral, always with a lot of rules to follow and ridiculous restrictions to one’s behaviour. But this castle was light, colorful, and you could feel the freedom within every step you took over the marble floor.

Doyoung gets lost in the feeling of that unusual freedom that could have overwhelmed the strongest person in the world, but a gentle touch of a familiar hand, wakes him up from his trance. “How is your married life going?” Renjun asks with a soft yet deep voice, making sure that the question wouldn’t sound too harsh or personal.

“It’s hard to tell a difference, when we barely talk to each other” The boy replies, getting one of the numerous glasses filled with an unknown alcoholic beverage that he took in in a single gulp. “She’s a hard girl to get” The innocent boy replies and immediately Doyoung’s hand is over the boys neck, warning him as he slowly says “Don’t you dare talk shit about her in my presence”

“Calm down” Renjun whispers, taking the older’s hand off his own neck. The looks that both of them exchange is enough for them to communicate to each other how they feel in that exact moment.

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The cold sensation of the water was fastly replaced with a warm one as your body entered the hot bath water, full of rose petals and bubbles. You wouldn’t normally take a bath, since just a shower seemed more than enough for you, but this was on the castle maids, and you couldn’t refuse a special gift like that.

The bathroom was positioned right next to the shared bedroom so when Doyoung entered after the party was over, you could perfectly hear him. In your mind, your plan was already plotting itself, you could try to be nice and offer him a cup of tea with a few drops of poison and after that, the throne would be all yours, no king, no limits, just you. So you, excited for the plan, got out of the bathtub, slowly drying your body with a soft white towel.

The moment you got out of the bathroom, you could feel it in his eyes, the way he stared at you, he was suspecting something from you for sure. “Would you like a cup of tea?” You sweetly ask and he simply hums as a reply. You were now pouring the boiling water over the leaf pieces, making a scented steam go everywhere around the house. You made sure to pour just enough poison to kill him without making it obvious that you did.

He grabs the cup with two fingers, trying his best not to burn himself in the process. “Under any other circumstances I would have let you do this. But I have a promise to keep, therefore, I won’t drink your poison, hope you understand” His sweet soft voice says, as he walks into the bathroom, spilling the tea on the sink. You look at him, both confused and surprised.

“Why aren’t you angry?” You whisper, almost as if you didn’t want him to hear you. “Because I would have done the same thing if I were you” The boy clears out. You can only find yourself speechless, as you watch his body disappearing through the big doors. “I will sleep in another room, until you want to share a bed” He says just before the doors close.

Heavy breathing isn’t new for you, but this time, it feels like you are not breathing at all, your chest hurts, your head gets dizzy and the world gets blurry. You try your best to breathe normally, but all you can really do is cry yourself to sleep. You almost killed a man, the man you married, just to get more power for your own, and you still wanted to think that you were all about satisfying people’s needs.

Dreams are a weird thing to describe and so are nightmares, but it’s obvious you’re in one when monsters appear, or when someone who is dead, is still alive.

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A scream wakes the young king up, and as soon as he identifies who it comes from, he gets even more worried than he already was from the initial shock. He gets his sword and runs over to the big bedroom where the queen was resting, and when he opens the door he finds her bleeding and crying loudly.

He sits next to her before even making sure there’s nobody else in the room. He tries to calm her down, while he makes sure the injury on her dorsal is only a superficial cut and nothing to be worried about. “Hey, hey look at me, everything is fine, okay?” He cuts his shirt off, tying the fabric around the wound to stop the blood from coming out. His hands rest now on the girl’s cheeks, carefully caressing her soft skin.

His firm grip on the queen’s face forces her to look into his dark hypnotizing eyes. Tears slowly drop from her eyes, making two small waterfalls to form on her cheeks. “Who did this?” Doyoung asks and she can only cry harder as she gets into a warm tight hug from the boy.

The situation is still unclear a couple of hours later, now having the whole castle workers in the room makes it look far more serious. Of course, an attempt of killing the queen was a serious topic, but the dense atmosphere created by all the different eyes focused on the queen’s stomach was pretty much useless, except for the anxiety growing up inside the girl’s head.

Yet everyone left with the firm words of the new king, who made sure nobody except him and the queen were now in the room. The cut stopped bleeding almost completely by now and just the look in his eyes could ask the question without the need of words, but he asked it anyway “Who did this?”

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Words come and go in your mind and there’s no actual way to focus on something to understand what’s going on or what people are saying, but his voice, you hear his voice clear and loud, as if it was the only sound in the world. “Who did this?”

But that was not a question you could properly answer. There was no right answer since the root of the problem was nobody’s fault. Yet the carrier of the knife had a name, and that name was yours. So you decide to stay silent and show him the knife you were still holding in your hands.

“I’m sorry” was the only thing you managed to say to the confused looking boy. He didn’t question it tho. He, instead, decided he would protect you in a way you were far from understanding. But let’s not anticipate events.

His body laid right next to yours, his large hands, were posed over your injured stomach, making it feel better. Making you feel safe. But the constant reminder of the moment you went out of control, the moment you harmed yourself without being able to stop it nor control it in any way kept haunting you.

But every thought you had, disappeared with the sound of his voice, his sweet and lovely voice as he started singing an old lullaby. It seemed effortless but, at the same time, he was hitting all the right notes. And just like that the sweet and calmed melody made you fall asleep instantly.

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There isn’t a real connection between strangers, but enemies just have that undertone added to their lore that seems almost right to fall in love with each other. That’s the reason for the thought that enemies and lovers are such similar concepts. Both have that dramatically intense feeling to it. And that’s how the queen felt.

A man that she could’ve been happy to see dead was gently caressing her hair in an empty bedroom with such a romantic atmosphere and she was in fact feeling it. Doyoung, on the other hand, he felt completely different. Since he was a little boy he had been told how the enemies could never be trusted and how he should fight to death for his kingdom.

But for the boy, the idea of hating that peaceful looking girl, as she fell asleep on his lap to the sound of his voice, was something he could’ve never done. He always imagined how he would marry someone like her when he was a kid. But he wasn’t fully conscious of the responsibility that it all implied. It is hard for someone who hardly ever socialized to get into a romantic relationship. And he realized in the moment that he noticed she was a human, who makes mistakes and has stuff to deal with, just like him, just like everyone.

It’s a weird thing to think about when you are lonely, but being next to someone isn’t always like we all imagine, and certainly Doyoung had never thought of it that way. We all picture our perfect partner to be there at all times, to have a perfect life and to be able to listen to our concerns but love is far away from that concept. The level of complexibility implied can be at times suffocating.

But the good part about it is that the boy truly loved her, and there was nothing that could make him feel differently. Therefore his gentle long fingers kept on caressing the soft skin of the girl’s face until he helplessly fell asleep as well.

The morning light brought with it a nice and warm feeling as the sunlight rested gently over the couple. Doyoung was quick to wake up as he was used to strict schedules. His first thought that morning was about the posture he fell asleep to, with the girl on his arms, kind of compromising him and making him hesitate to move. And even with the awkwardness that it implied, he couldn't hide his smile.

Masterlist –requests open–

[belleta]

The Forest - Part One

Consists: Supernatural, SKZ as different SN creatures, adventure, romance, drama, action, ......still trying to figure out all the details....lol XD

"Come on Y/N!", I was racing around the house. Trying to make sure I had everything for this trip. "Omg Y/N, let's GO~!" I swear to the universe she's going to thank me later. " I'm coming child!" I screamed back. Alrighty I just need my retainer. I bounded up the stairs and glided down the hallway with my cotton socks. Bursting into my room, I quickly scanned it for the sparkly emerald case. I caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye, "Boom!" I ran forward and snatched it off my windowsill. While leaping for my door, I paused and turned back to what I call my sanctuary. Call me paranoid but I'm kinda afraid of camping in the middle of the woods. Ever since I watched "The Blair Witch Project", I've been creeped.

It doesn't help that Jazzy forced us to watch the film, previous to this morning. I was drifting in the fairy floss clouds of my mind when a loud honk poured water on them. I sucked in a breath, blowing raspberries. Padding back over to my bedside, I grabbed my Ice Bear plushie. Giving it a quick squeeze and finally deciding that he's coming with me. Galloping back through the house, I made it out, locked the door and hopped in the back seat like a spring rabbit. "What took you so long?" I gazed up through my fringe at my girl bestie Jazmine. She had long beautiful honey blonde hair, and a mousy nose. Her blue eyes were alike with pebbles under a lake, with cheeks connected by a dash of light freckles. "I swear I just aged waiting for you" and Danny, our guy bestie. I've been best friends with Danny, since 3rd grade. Jazzy moved over during the 5th grade. All three of us have been with each other through thick and thin. Daniel was Hawaiian Japanese descent, had perfect colorful nails and absolutely gorgeous eye makeup. We were all dressed in casual, comfy clothes for the trip. Jazmine, or Jazzy as people call her, as the oldest. She was driving Danny's dad's truck. It was spacious and definitely was fit for the environment. Danny, second eldest was in shotgun and I, being the "baby", was in the back. "I was just making sure I have everything." The two rolled their eyes. Danny looked back at me "Girl, you need to chill. We've got everything and more" the boy stated. "I know, I know.....I'm just paranoid, you know.....being in the woods for a week" I looked down at my feet and played with my fingers to cover my embarressedness. "Awww, is the baby scared", Jazzy giggled, imitating a child. I swatted at her, "Let's just...finally go" I grumbled, reaching inside my bag to pull out my headphones. "Fine" they answered teasingly. While Jazzy was pulling out, I fastened myself and slid my headphones on. Bluetoothing them and unlocking my phone, I scrolled through my YouTube Music playlist finding the one named 'Bell Mix'. After that, I went back to the truffula trees and fairy floss. Just listening to my music and thinking about things. There were a couple times, where I thought I might get sick, but I had remembered my motion sickness bracelets. In your face! It's better to set out a little later, rather than having our vehicle reeking of my insides. 2 or 3 hours went by, or something. I'm not really sure, my brain doesn't really have a sense of time when I'm inside of it. We stopped to use the bathroom, get food and fuel at a gas station, maybe 2 hours away from the forest. "Can I, can I, can I, can I PLEASE?!?" I had been begging Jazzy to let me buy a bag of Haribo for 10 minutes now, and she was starting to break. I'm very persuasive as you find out, and I happen to be a very prominent weakness to many throughout my life. She finally gave in and I bounced away to the candy isle with glee and happily picked out a bag, promising to share. Jazzy just rolled her eyes and paid for our things. We trotted back to the car and continued our journey. It was nearing the end of 2pm when we finally arrived at the edge of the forest. It's lushes were absolutely perfectly splendid. The road continued for a hot minute, until it gave away to dirt and rocks. We didn't want to stray too far from the dirt road, so we slowly kept moving in until I suddenly exclaimed at the sight of a pretty little clearing. It had a few little bushes marking the edges, thick but soft looking grass, and a little dirt patch at one side that should be perfect for a firepit. We pulled over to take a look around, flattening a few bushes in the process. As soon as the truck came to a stop I shoved the door open and sprung down onto the flourishing forest floor. The first thing I did was take a deep breath to soak in the sweet scent of the untouched earth. I reached up, stretching and cracking a few of my bones in the process. Then I raced through the trees and undergrowth, toward the beautiful glade. It felt so nice to get away from civilization, I had always loved

getting away like this. Being able to recharge away from annoying people and sounds, my fears of the night were long forgotten. I was two steps away from the grass when I suddenly tripped over something. Tumbling forward and scratching my cheek. I landed on my face, but on the bright side it was luckily with no rocks around. The dirt however spared me at nothing, crawling into my fresh scrapes, was a sharp and quick stinging as I grabbed my face. "Seriously Y/N, we haven't even completely left the car yet and you've already managed to hurt yourself" Jazzy declared. Danny chimed in, "Did you hurt yourself at all?". Quickly inspecting myself, I responded "Yes, a tiny bit on my cheek, hands and knees", I could hear them muttering to themselves about how reckless I was sometimes. They started toward me and as I waited for them to catch up, I decided to look around and figure out where to put things for these next few days. While ogling the decently wide stretch that was conveniently shielded by a mighty sugar maple. I thought I saw something in the undergrowth a few meters away from me. I grabbed my glasses and narrowed my eyes, but right when I thought I saw whatever it was, two flashes shot in the opposite direction between the ferns and disappeared. They were kinda hidden but I could sorta make out one of the shapes was darker and slightly bigger. The other was a little bit easier but still was difficult, it was kinda brown, or maybe reddish? At that moment I felt two hands on my shoulders, "Let me see", it was Jazzy. She inspected my injury. "It'll be fine, just wash it off", "Okie-Dokie-Artichokie", she laughed and ruffled my hair. I gazed back at where I saw the two shapes but not even the bushes were still moving. "Hey!" I cocked my head back to the voice "Can you help me?" Danny was struggling to unpack from the back. "Sure thing Danny-O" I quickly stood up, maybe a little too quick. My vision went funny and I almost stumbled. "Oh my god Y/N! Be careful!" Jazzy scolded, "My bad!" I was a little all over the place at the moment. Finally we were on this trip! I mean, I waited 6 months for this and it's finally here! I'm not all childish, I'm actually very 4D. I'm just really excited okay? I more carefully walked back to the truck, where Danny was struggling to keep ahold of what appeared to be the tent. Over the course of the next hour and a half we set up everything. Goofing around and laughing. Danny had been pulling too hard on our sleeping bags, to wedge them out of the trunk. And had accidentally fallen onto the slightly wet dirt, causing a very prominent brown streak across his gray sweatpants and sky blue tie dye hoodie. I was currently on my way to find the stream that is supposably close by, with a screenshot of google maps and a compass. Service wasn't exactly a 5 star out here, but I didn't mind too much. I brought a portable WiFi router with me, so if Jason Vorhees just decided to pull one, we could call for help. Every so often I would hang a wooden heart ornament on one of the tree's branches, so if this was the correct way then we would never get lost. Also so that I didn't get lost right now. I had been making these last night, for these exact reasons. I swear only dumb people don't mark their surroundings, this is one of the main reasons why people disappear and are never found or get lost. There are no traces of where they've been, like these fruit loops really-...... After about another 20 meters I started hearing the sounds of water. It became louder and louder really quickly. Is there a waterfall here? I pondered, while quickening my pace with curiosity. 35 seconds later I came across a thinning in the trees and beyond a clear water stream. I finally broke out of the shelter provided from the thick leaves, the sun kissed my skin with it's warm touch. I looked around and sure enough, there was a small waterfall that looked straight out of a fairytale. It had multiple uneven levels, with smoothed boulders everywhere. And to top it all off, it had little water plants scattered around it. Absolutely

beautiful.... I scanned around and spotted a few giant boulders poking into the stream. I carefully picked my way over to them, clutching onto Danny's muddy clothes. Hopping onto the sunlight warmed stones, I positioned myself perfectly so that I could reach the water but wouldn't fall in. I reached into my pocket for my zip lock of natural soap, of course I didn't want to hurt this literally untouched land. I leaned down to dunk the fabric into the stream's crystal-like water and kneaded the brown smudge. It was decently cold, just perfect for a stream. I turned back to the small bag with a green bar wrapped with brown paper and a little herb decoration. I unzipped it and reached for a tiny hand towel I brought with me so that I would have a better grip on the soap, even if I got wet. After dunking the clothes in I took the bar of soap and swiped it all over. I dipped it into the water once to help the bubble come, then I started aggressively rubbing it. Once the outfit was foaming with suds, I slapped it into the brook. Holding onto the sleeve I rub it harshly all over to get the stains out. It was relatively still easy because the events of cause were only moments before. I was starting to disappear into my thoughts, getting deeper and deeper and deeper....... And just then a crash and from the trees, followed by snarls and barks. I was so lost in my thought that this jolted me into the canal. The water suddenly became ice cold, my scream had been washed away. A surge of water filled my lungs from the way my mouth was open to yelp. I could still hear the sounds of fighting every so often, when I would surface. My head was hurting, my skin was stinging and my lungs were screaming. Someone.....please help..... It was hurting so much, I was trying not to panic. So I could find the surface and get back to shore. I would break through it's crisp arctic clutches every so often and would cry out for help but then get cut off by the now frosty darkness. I was giving up to the stream and submitting to the coldness. Letting it swallow me whole. I was numb, I couldn't feel my body being thrown around anymore, Is this how my story ends? No! I don't want to! I still have things to do! I need to graduate, and find my passion! I need to find a man who will love me as much as I do! I need to birth young and care for them! I want to grow old with my partner happily! I can't die yet! I just can't! But it was just so cold. I had stopped moving violently, so I guess I had been poured into a lake or something. I didn't care anymore. My blood felt frozen, I couldn't even bend a finger. That's when I felt a force near me, it parted the waters. Moving me in a different direction with its power. Then not long after I felt something grab hold of me in an awkward way. I was starting to be pulled into another direction, as the water streamed around, parting to let me and whatever that was saving me through. Then I broke through the surface and that was the last thing I felt before slipping into a comfy unconsciousness.

[call-signvalkyrie]

Ignite the Spark pt. 1

So I quit my shitty job today. Yay me! With the extra time I had today, I got a chance to finish the first chapter of a Poe Dameron series I’ve been working on. Let me know what you guys think!

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Summary: After years of undercover work for the Resistance, the daughter of Luke Skywalker has returned. Arriving on Ajan Kloss to a warm greeting from General Leia Organa, the Reader is given a gift and has their first meeting with everyone’s favorite pilot.

Pairings: Poe Dameron x Skywalker!Reader

Tags: talks of the Force, a few flashbacks, Poe being embarrassed lol

Word Count: around 3k

When your transport landed on Ajan Kloss, you weren’t sure you would be cut out for this. You’d spend so much time on backwater planets, filtering information to the resistance and doing your best to go unnoticed. You were so used to not interacting with anyone that the thought of being around so many people on a bustling base was a bit scary. All feelings of reservation were swept away, however, when the door of the transport opened to reveal the face of an older woman. Her hair was different since the last time you had seen her. Her face was aged from the many years of fighting the good fight for the rebellion. Her eyes, however, had not changed a day. They gleamed and twinkled in the dying twilight. Her smile made them sparkle even brighter as she reached out toward you.

“Aunt Leia,” you stepped off the transport and into her open arms. “It’s been too long.”

“Yes, it has. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kept you away.” She smiled lovingly, taking your face in both hands.  

“I brought the data you asked for. I’ve got it all here.” You said, pulling a flash drive from your jacket pocket.

“That’s wonderful, Stardust.” You beamed with pride at the mention of your childhood nickname. “Lt. Connix, will you please take this data to the command center. Start running a detail immediately.”  

“Yes, General.” Lt. Connix took the flash drive and was gone before you could blink.

“Beaux, see to it that Lt. Skywalker’s bags are placed in her quarters, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Beaux gave you a quick wave before stepping onto the transport and out of sight.

“Now, Y/N, I want to give you a quick tour before you settle in. I’m sure you’re exhausted but I want you to be as familiar as possible with everything on this base. This is your home now. No more field missions, I need you with me.” Leia smiled again, taking your arm and leading you toward the left wing of the base and toward the living quarters.  

Home. Leia was the only thing you had left. Wherever she was, that’s where your home would be.  

After showing you where your quarters would be located as well as the mess hall, med bay, and a quick tour of the Command Center, you were ready to get settled in for the night.  

“Well, Y/N, if you need anything tonight, my quarters are right down the hall. You should have a data pad on your desk all charged and ready to go. It’ll have your clearance codes as well as any information you’ll need to know while on base. I’ll need you with me in the morning to debrief that data. It should be downloaded and ready so make sure to give it a look over before the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You said, smiling softly at the older woman.

“Goodnight, Stardust.” Leia gave a quick wave before walking out the door.  

Turning on your heal, you took a quick second to familiarize yourself with your new home. Being the niece of the general had its perks. Your quarters were small, yes but they were cozy. A small bookshelf and dresser were along the wall to your left, a double bed and desk and chair to your right. The data pad Leia had mentioned was right where she said it would be, all charged and ready to go from the looks of it.  Straight ahead was your own private refresher. After unpacking your duffle of clothes, along with your rucksack containing a few personal mementos, you decided to take a quick shower before bed. You could wake up early and review that data for Leia. It wasn’t like you hadn’t spent the last 5 years gathering every piece of intel you could on the First Order.  

Grabbing a fresh pair of underwear, a grey tank and a pair of sleep shorts from your dresser, you stepped into the refresher. Ten minutes later you were scrubbed clean and feeling surprisingly relaxed. It was amazing what a proper shower could do. Opening the door and stepping into your room, you turned to hang your towel on the desk chair when you spotted something you hadn't noticed earlier. On the desk were two boxes accompanied by an envelope. Scrawled across the front in a familiar script was the word “Stardust”. Opening the envelope, you began to read:

Y/N,

For far too long I have kept you in the dark and for that I will always be in your debt. Please accept these as tokens of my sincerest apologies. I hope at least one of these will help light your way. I understand if you’re conflicted but I have hope that one day you will be able to continue your training. Your fathers only wish in life was to see you follow his footsteps. Maybe we can fix that now.  

All My Love,

Leia

Setting the letter to the side, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. Picking up the smaller of the two boxes, you opened it to reveal a small jewelry box. Lifting the lid, you gasped allowed. Nestled on a small black pillow was a beautifully woven silver chain. Placed ever so delicately in the middle of the pillow was a pendant. Pulling the chain from the box, you let it dangle in front of you in the soft light.  

You never thought you would see this necklace again. Your father had given it to you when you left the Jedi temple to be with your aunt Leia all those years ago. When the temple fell and Kylo Ren rose to power, your necklace went missing in the night. That was almost 8 years ago now. Yet, here it was right in your hands like it was never gone. You ran the compass shaped pendant through your fingers, letting the wave of sadness and nostalgia run over you. On one side, a golden crescent moon surrounded by three silver stars embellished the surface. Turning it over, there was an engraving: Stardust.  

You gingerly pulled the chain around your neck and adjusted it to size. That’s why you had always loved this necklace.

“It will grow with you, Stardust.”  

Sniffling, you took a look at the other package. Thinking back to the note, you already knew what it was. How Leia had found it, you would never know but would be forever grateful. This box was longer, over a foot in length. The box was made of a soft wood that smelled faintly of burned embers. It had no exterior markings and no obvious way of exposing its contents. Slowly, you lowered the box to the floor. Taking a seat in front of it, closed your eyes. Reaching out with your mind, you felt it: The Force.

“The Force is all around you, Y/N. Reach out with your feelings and let it flow through you.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Ahem.”

“I mean: Yes, Master.”

The box gave no notice it had even opened. If some random onlooker happened to be watching, they would be none the wiser. You knew, however, the moment it happened. Lifting the lid, your breath caught in your throat. The inside of the box was lined with a soft, deep blue velvet pillow the color of the night sky. On top of the pillow, an emblem was stitched into the fabric. A shooting star wrapped in what looked like wings. Atop this pillow was a smooth cylindrical object, covered in beautiful ancient markings. It had a slightly curved handle for better grip for your smaller hands. You always favored nature and practicality over dominance and your build had reflected that.  

“You must gather your crystals quickly, younglings. The cave is only open for so long. We don’t want any of you getting stuck in here.” You could hear his soft chuckle even now.

Picking up the silver object, you ignited the switch. Your room began to buzz with the soft whir of noise from the object in your hand. Ethereal, green light radiated from the source. You disengaged the ignitor, taking the smooth metal in both hands. How could it have survived? You looked everywhere after the temple was burned and never found it. Had Leia had it all this time and was just waiting for the right time to return it? Who had taken your lightsaber?  

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of frantic beeping coming from the hallway. Quickly, you slid the blade back into the box. Tucking it away under your bunk, you scrambled to the door and hit the lock. The door opened with a soft shlick and you stepped into the hallway. Another round of agitated beeps could be heard coming down the hall followed by what sounded like combat boots. Coming around the corner was a small round droid, a BB Unit by the looks of him.  

“BeeBee-Ate, I’m sorry! Buddy, our room’s not even this way, where are you going?” a male voice called after the little droid.

“What do you mean you're telling Leia?! It’s the middle of the night, pal. She’s most likely asleep.”  

Leaning against the door to your quarters, you began to understand the little guy. He was angry because someone named Poe left him alone with the ship. AGAIN. And got captured and made him worry. AGAIN. You gave a slight chuckle as the little guy rolled by, angry beeps the whole way. Punching your code back into your door panel, you were just about to step back in when a voice called out to you. Stepping back into the hallway, you were greeted by a Resistance pilot. He was still wearing his bright orange flight suit. His thick, curly hair stuck up in odd directions from his helmet. He gave you a soft smile and waved.  

“I’m sorry for all the noise, it's been a weird day.” The pilot smiled at you apologetically. “I hope my friend didn’t wake you.”

“No, I was awake.” You smiled back, taking a step out of your room and into the hallway. “Just checking to make sure everything was alright. The General, however, won't be too happy about being disturbed.” You nodded toward the little droid, now rolling his body into your aunts' door at full force.  

“Gods, BB-Ate! It’s not that serious! I -” the pilots voice stopped in his throat as the shlick of the door BB-8 was throwing himself into slid open. The little droid went flying full force into the now open quarters of General Organa. You heard a loud clang followed by a series of confused beeps and whistles from the little droid.

“Dameron, you nerf herder! Get your droid out of my room right now or so help me not even the Force will be able to save you!” the General stepped out of her quarters and into the hallway, glairing toward the man to your right. You had to cover your face to hide the smile that was creeping onto it.  

“General, I am so sorry.” a deep blush began to creep up the man's neck and onto his face. “I tried to get him to calm down but he just wouldn’t! He insisted - “

“I don’t care, Dameron. Get him out of here NOW. You’re obviously alright so whatever it is can wait until morning.” Leia said, placing one hand on her hip. You hadn’t seen Leia this irritated since you were a child. You were glad that look was fixed on someone else for once.  

“Yes, ma’am.” The pilot said, lowering his eyes. “C’mon BB-8. It’s time for bed.” The little droid gave what you interpreted to be a light grumble but complied, rolling out to meet his master. Turning on his heal, the pilot gave you a light nod and started off in the direction he came from.  

“Y/N! Ben! Get in here.”

“I told you not to take her lightsaber!” You whispered to your cousin, jabbing him in the ribs.

“She’s my mom. I can take whatever I want from her.” Ben smirked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever, Bantha-breath! I’m gonna tell her you said that!” You skipped off toward your aunt's voice, Ben chasing close behind you.

“Y/N, you okay?” A hand touched your arm, bringing you back to reality.  

“Yeah, Aunt Leia, sorry. I think I’m just tired.” You yawned, covering your mouth lightly. “Hey, who was that guy?”  

“Oh, that’s Poe. Poe Dameron. He’s a pilot, leader of Black Squadron.” Leia said, exasperation in her voice.  

“Like, THE Poe Dameron? Wow.” You laughed lightly, shaking your head.  

“He’s a good guy, just has his head in his cockpit most of the time instead of down on solid ground.” Leia said, shaking her head with a smile.

“No, it’s not that. I just thought he’d be taller.” You both smiled, enjoying the joke between the two of you.  

“Well, between you and me, he really is the best pilot I’ve ever seen.” your aunt gave you a little wink before turning to go back into her own room.  

“Even better than...” but you stopped yourself, letting the thought trail on.  

“Almost. Maybe.” you could hear the smile in her answer as the door to her room shut behind her.