#while I like the expressiveness I can get out of the cane I can remove it without to much issue if needed

[unchaineddragon25]

I hated being autistic and having synesthesia when I was a kid. My synesthesia was basically treated like a shock collar built into my nervous system. Anyone could subject me to a loud noise to cause me immense pain without leaving a mark on me. People would actually keep score on who could cause me to drop to the ground in pain most often before the end of the week. And I couldn't do shit to retaliated until I was in high school. One kid screamed in my ears in ninth grade and dumped the contents of a trash can on me once. And then he thought it was messed up that I grabbed a lunch table and hit him with it. I got lunch detention for responding to an unprovoked attack. I just didn't get people.

Eventually things got so out of hand that my disability was made public knowledge by the admins just so that my retaliations could be justified as self-defense to hate crimes. I lost track of how many times I was assaulted. It just never stopped. Even when I got into the habit of throwing people around, I never felt safe. I even got followed home by people on my way back from the gym. I kept two knives concealed in the palms of my gloves for that reason. The attacks were so common that I was frequently released from school 30 minutes ahead of everyone else simply for some additional safety. And even that didn't guarantee my safety. When I was eighteen a boy at school pulled a knife on me. I disarmed him by weakening his grip with a pressure point to the base of his wrist.

I hated myself for my conditions when I was growing up. And more than that, I hated people for putting me through hell for being different. A friend's dad once threatened a group of kids who chased me across the neighborhood with his spear cane. And another time my archery teacher had to pull a crossbow on a group of kids while his daughter threatened to call the police on them for attacking me with rocks to the head when I was in junior high. My teacher had me practice in his backyard from that point onward and gave me a key to his carpentry shop for extra security where he kept a spare bow and arrow and a phone with the police department on speed dial.

I basically had to live as if my life could be ended at any moment. One of my greatest fears was to die and end up a cautionary tale. I only survived due to either dumb luck or being physically stronger than my attackers. The latter of which is why I spent so much time in the gym as a teenager. By the time I was seventeen I was regularly bench pressing my own body weight 150 reps a day. My autism caused me to overdevelop in regards to neuromuscular efficiency, prioritizing that over fine motor control. It was necessary to survive. And I could read human biomechanics like a neurotypical person could read facial expressions. I was a natural fighter. I trained at the gym in weight lifting, cardio, and martial arts for up to five hours a day. Just to deal with my anger. Just to have a place where I felt safe.

I still struggle with PTSD to this day because of the abuse and violence I suffered as a kid. One of the only things that brings me any relief is swordsmanship. The sword is one of the few weapons I didn't train with during that time. It's a clean slate for me. I used to use any number of weapons in self-defense that I'd keep on me. Knives, staves, short clubs, whips, and more. I even once had to raise an axe in self-defense when I was fifteen when I was cornered. I'd been removing a small tree for a neighbor when I was ganged up on.

It just felt like it would never end.

I mean surely we all grew up feeling like there was a wrongness inherently deep inside us that will endure for the rest of our lives

[drjdorr]

is it ok for a character to have an aesthetic cane

I was rereading a work in progress I want to get back into working on(don't ask how long ago I was working on it, writer's block sucks) and I found a detail that I feel I should maybe ask about before making it an actual part of my work because it might be ableist.

I have a rich douche smarmy character who has a cane "he uses for grandeur and presentation more than any actual need" and during rereading I realized that might be ableist but I don't know

now I am technically disabled but not "uses cane" disabled so I am less informed on whether having a character use a cane for basically aesthetic reasons is an ok thing to do, but I'm pretty sure some of my mutuals(who my brain refuses to specify) and maybe some of my followers do use canes so would know more on this and could maybe let me know

[her-devils-advocate]

Home, love, family

pairings: Levi Ackerman x reader

genre: fluff

summary: It has been some time since the fighting had ended, the world has started to move on and you find yourself doing the same.

You and Levi decide it is time to start taking the next step towards enjoying the future you fought for.

word count: 1,787

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56315470

After years spent fighting towards a dream, an ideal world without titans and worry, you now find yourself standing within that once unrealistic future. It didn't come without sacrifice, each tally on your heart continues to weigh it down to this day, but you refuse to stop carrying the souls of your friends. Some part of you likes to believe that while you live on while carrying their memory, they get to experience this new life by your side, wherever they may be.

The world isn't as you had hoped, the price paid seems too high for some, yet you are content to try and put it behind you as much as possible. You fought for too long and lost too much to not make the most of the new world. A sentiment you're glad to share with Levi.

You now stand in awe as you survey the large clearing in the forest, the trees forming a new, more natural wall around you. The ancient bark twists towards the sky and erupts into a sea of green above, you were surprised to see such a gorgeous sight had evaded the rumbling at first, already used to the muddy barren land you and many others had found themselves in.

Your eyes widen when they finally fall on the small, cosy cottage sat proudly within. Flowers surround the building, attracting the attention of the perfectly round bumblebees nearby, happily flittering between each bud without a care in the world. You watch them hover with a small smile, maybe you can finally experience a similar life, having been freed of the bonds of duty. Now free to spend your days working to provide a life for you and Levi, rather than the future of mankind.

You're so distracted by your thoughts that you fail to notice Levi slowly approaching you, taking the time to remove the few bags you had brought from the car.

"And just when I thought we had escaped living behind walls." He mutters as you move to take the bags off him, shooting him a glare as he puts up a small fight despite his cane.

"Oh hush, this is different. We have all the privacy in the world here, a quiet place just for you, me and whoever we allow to visit." You cannot help but grimace, that list of people has grown shockingly short. You shake your head, refusing to let that train of thought continue its rampage through your mind, there are always new bonds to be forged alongside flowers to lay against cold stone memorials.

Noticing your falling mood, Levi steps forward to take the bags back one more, only to place them on the stepping stones leading towards your new home. He then lays his cane on top, before carefully making his way towards you.

Before you can ask him what he's doing, he scoops you up with ease. One hand is securely around your back while the other rests under your knees. The action brings a small squeak out from your lips, the surprise rendering you speechless as you wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him with wide eyes. He rolls his eyes at your darkening cheeks before walking towards the door, giving it a swift kick all while happily ignoring the offended look you give him in return.

“Hey! We haven’t even officially moved in yet and you’re already being rough with the place.” Your expression downplays your words and you find it hard to keep up the stern tone for long.

“Tch, it’s fine. Do you see any damage? No. Anyways, I’d fix it if there was, it’s not like we don’t have the time for that now.”

You don’t bother to reply, letting the back-and-forth drop before it can grow. Instead, you take the time to study his face, carefully following the jagged scars running along one side of his face. You slowly unwrap one of your hands and bring it to gently stroke along the scar, smiling tenderly as he subtly leans into the action. His eyes are tired, something you are well acquainted with, but recently you have noticed a new light shining within the grey of his eyes, a peace that neither of you had experienced bringing new sensations to your life.

“Time… We have all the time we need now.” You echo his sentiment, watching his eyes soften as he looks down at you with a small smile. You will never get tired of seeing that expression on his face, soaking up the rare sight each time while doing your best to lure it out of him whenever you can. You are momentarily brought back to reality when you feel him shift you in his arms, his face betraying nothing despite the way he continues to favour one of his legs and has swapped to leaning against the wall.

“What are you doing?” You question as your hands come up to straighten out his cravat, the silky material having fallen loose during the long journey you had just taken.

“Carrying you.” His voice is monotone, yet you can feel the mix of exasperation and amusement within his words. You give him a look that shows just how unimpressed you are, you fight off a small grin when he rolls his eyes and continues, “If you didn’t want that answer, you should have been more specific.”

“Okay then, why are you carrying me when last time I checked, I’m not the one with the injured leg?”

At that, he scoffs yet makes no move to release you. Instead, his grip on you tightens and you watch as a small blush dusts his cheeks. He avoids your eyes, instead peering into the half-empty cottage awaiting your arrival. 

“Isn’t it a tradition to carry your partner across the threshold of your new home?” His voice is low and his head is held even lower as he does his best to casually hide his expression from your prying eyes. You can’t fight off your blush, now painting your cheeks with a rosy hue to pair with his.

You open your mouth, only to close it, the words escaping you as you try your best to respond, not wanting to leave him squirming. “That’s usually done after a wedding unless you have something to tell me. You didn’t marry me in the night, did you?”

You keep your words as playful as you can with your heart threatening to jump out of your chest and mix itself up in your sentences, the hope you had pushed down over the chaotic months now deciding to slowly crawl back into the front of your mind. The small huff of amusement he gives in reply doesn’t help to push the hope back into its confinements. 

“Can’t say I did, that’s something I would want you to remember and knowing you, you’d also make us have some shitty party, with a cake and those brats to celebrate it with.” Levi’s voice is gentle as he gets caught up in his imagination and you find yourself staring up at him, eyes wide with adoration.

“We would have the biggest party, I would invite everyone that we know. You’d be so fed up by the end of the night, utterly sick of the attention and ready to leave.” You rest your head against his chest with a small chuckle, feeling his quiet laughter gently rock your body. 

“I can see that a little bit too well. You would insist on dancing with everyone from our squad and I would end up glaring at one of them, probably Connie, for being clumsy and standing on your foot.” You can hear the affection he continues to hold for your old squad laced in his words and find yourself slowly nodding against his chest, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt.

“Connie would absolutely be the one to do that, he would panic and then step on my foot. Then he would see your face and panic even more, calling you “Captain Levi” on instinct despite us being retired now,” you slightly lower your voice and speed up your words to mimic the boy’s voice, earning a scoff from Levi. “Then Jean would tease the poor boy, making him get embarrassed while Armin or Mikasa would try to gently de-escalate the pair.”

“And then I would snatch you away in the middle of the commotion and we would sneak out to finally get to spend time together, you complaining the entire time about not saying goodbye.” He finishes your joint daydream with a fond smile and despite the future scenario, you can’t help but notice how similar it sounds to your time in the Scouts. Never having enough time to properly spend together and always having the squad to lead, yet you can’t say you regret it and looking back, you’ve always had a small, albeit very odd, family by your side. 

Before you can speak that thought aloud, his voice catches your attention once more and you can feel his body tense up. “Well, we might have done this thing backwards, having just bought a house together already. But I’m not wasting any more time, not again.”

“Levi?” You can’t help the shake in your voice, his words causing a multitude of emotions to swirl in your chest.

“The only logical next step to take is to marry you.”

A small gasp escapes from your lips as his gaze burns into you, neither of you willing to look away and break the moment. You feel your eyes begin to water as your heart overflows with joy, but you blink them away, instead letting out a small chuckle.

“You make it sound like it’s a battle tactic.”

“From the previous conversation, it might as well be.” Levi counters quickly and you can feel him slowly begin to relax as he walks through the door, carrying you into your new life together and gently placing you back onto your feet. Before you can take a moment to savour everything, to let the whirlwind of emotions calm down and be processed, you hear him click his tongue in annoyance. You turn to face him, watching as he drags a slender finger across the dark wood of the stairs handrail, his eyebrows drawn together in disgust.

“This place is covered in dust, before we do anything, it needs to be cleaned. Stay put, I’ll get the bag.”

You can’t help the load groan as you watch him drift back outside. You take the short break to mentally prepare yourself for a long day of scrubbing the floors side by side with the man you love.

[thescarletnargacuga]

Art: @iamespecter

CHAPTER ONE

The Amazing Digital Raceway is a Mario Kart-style racing AU filled with mystery, drama and romance! Featured ships being Showtime (Pomni x Caine) and Gangle x Zooble! (Other ships are possible but indeterminate)

WARNING: none

"Welcome, to the Amazing Digital Raceway!" A crowd of thousands were on their feet clapping and cheering in the stands around the starting line. Five racers stood next to their karts as the booming voice from above announced his welcome. "My name is Caine! I'm your trackside host and it's a beautiful day for a race! Isn't that right, Bubble?"

Caine removed his hat with a flourish and a bubble with a shark's smile emerged. "That's right, Caine! I can't wait to see what kind of race you have set up for today!"

"Then let's not waste any time and get right to announcing today's racers!" Holding his cane like a microphone, Caine flew over the crowd to the track. "Up front, is Gangle! Our winner of yesterday's race! Let's hope she can hold that title!" Gangle waved shyly to the adoring crowd, her happy mask giving the crowd her best 'happy to be there' smile.

"Next, Zooble! Master utilizer of shortcuts! I haven't been able to hide one from them to date!" Caine laughed as he flew past Zooble, who just leaned nonchalantly against their kart while waiting for Caine to finish his spiel.

"Then there's Kinger! A veteran racer who knows his way around every corner, tunnel and cliff! It's hard to trick this guy!" Kinger was face down in his kart looking at the mechanics before being startled by Caine's presence and slamming the hood shut. He spun around as if he suddenly realized where he was.

"Next is the darling doll crowd favorite, Ragatha!" Caine tipped his hat to her and he floated by. She enthusiastically waved to the crowd. "She's struggled this season, but let's hope the track is on her side this time!"

"Not if I have anything to do with it." Chuckled the last racer. Ragatha kept waving but glared at him.

"And we have Jax, another crowd favorite, whose drifting skills go unmatched! Despite the fact that he hasn't won a race all season." Caine said the last sentence under his breath. Jax chuckled and sat sideways in his kart's seat, amused by Caine's huffiness about his lack of proper participation.

"And last, but not least, we have Kaufmo! ....Kaufmo?"

Kaufmo was not next to his bright yellow clown themed kart. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen, but the crowd cheered on as if he were there. Caine covered the top of his cane-mircophone and leaned in to Bubble. "Where's Kaufmo?"

"I dunno, boss. Want me to look for him?"

"Yes, and be quick about it. The race is starting! We need our full roster!" Caine nearly hissed between his teeth in desperation. Bubble drifted away.

The other racers all looked to the lone kart at the end of the line. Ragatha frowned and looked at Kinger and Zooble, silently asking them if they'd seen Kaufmo. Both shrugged and shook their heads. None of them had seen Kaufmo that morning, which was strange. Usually he was the first one out of bed and trying to amp everyone up for the race, trying his best to make their lives there bearable.

"BOSS! I FOUND A CLOWN!" Bubble's shout got all of their attention.

"Wha- what? Who are you- where am I??" A short humanoid woman in a blue, red and yellow tracksuit and jester hat suddenly stood not far from where Kaufmo would've been.

"EXCELLENT!" Caine exclaimed. He swooped down to her and got a good look. "Hmm, you're not Kaufmo, but you'll do. We need a sixth racer."

"A what? What is this??" The newcomer looked around in panic. She was surrounded in saturated colors and lights and sounds, it was overwhelming. She manically stared down the line of racers in front of her, their expressions ranged from apathy to pity. They knew what she was going through, however, she was the first to show up right at the start of a race. "Who are you people!?"

Ragatha approached with her hands out reassuringly. "Easy, new stuff. It'll be al-"

"Get this headset off of me!" The newbie tried taking off her hat but it may as well have been her hair, it wouldn't budge.

Ragatha winced as she watched the new girl pull at every part of her own face. "Please, don't do that. You'll hurt yourself."

"Nah, let her tear herself apart. It'll be funny." Jax watched from his lounged position in his cart.

"What the [&@#$] is going on!? ..huh?" A loud BOING sound drowned out the newbie's swear.

"Now, now, my dear. We can't have any of that foul language on the track. The Amazing Digital Raceway is to be enjoyed by all ages, no matter how much road rage you experience." Caine chuckled to himself.

The newbie then proceeded to go through every swear she knew. Even ones she didn't personally think could be swears. Weird sound effects covering up each and every one of them. "...oh my god." She whispered to herself in disbelief.

Caine tugged at his collar awkwardly and addressed the crowd. "It seems we have a NEW racer, folks! Everybody put your hands together to welcome-..." He looked at her expectantly.

"Uh...uh- UHHH! MY NAME! WHY DON'T I REMEMBER MY NAME?!?" She grabbed her head in even more panic.

Caine patted her on the back. "It's alright, nobody can remember their name when they enter the Digital Raceway. Your name can be whatever you want! Care to spin the roulette?" Caine didn't get a reply so he snapped his fingers and gestured to the giant screen over the crowd. He'd been eager to try this out anyway, he'd been working hard at improving the name randomizer since last time took nearly fifty tries just to get a legible, human-approved name.

Letters spun like a slot machine, stopping one after the other. P-O-M-N-I, that doesn't seem too bad. Caine looked at the shaken and confused newbie. "What do you think of Pomni?"

"What? Uh, yeah, sure, whatever..." Pomni held herself in an attempt to ground her mind. This couldn't actually be happening. It was a dream. Had to be. It was too weird not to be.

Strange beeping and whirring sounds came from a device on Caine's wrist. "Gadzooks! We're running behind! We need to get this race underway! Racers! To your karts!" Everyone except Pomni got in their karts. Caine snapped his fingers and Kaufmo's banana yellow clown kart turned into a sleek, red and white kart with a top hat symbol on the front. "Since it's your first race, you can use my kart. Now, get in! The race is about to begin!"

Pomni reluctantly got behind the wheel. "But I don't know how to- I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Not to worry! I'll pilot you through your first lap! You'll get it in no time at all!" Caine flew high up and away as she shouted more questions that he didn't have time to answer. It was time to race. "Ladies and Gentlemen, NPCs of all ages! Today's race is through the Lair of the Gloink Queen!" He gestured to the screen and a preview of the upcoming track played. It was dark and rocky, covered in glowing underground crystals. The track curved and weaved through the caverns, silvery translucent boxes with question marks dotted the landscape. The crowd 'ooed' and 'awwed'. "Today's objective is to defeat the Queen by making the high jump over her nest and hitting the mid air target. But watch out! Her minions lurk in every corner! If they hit your kart, they'll steal your items! Remember, the only thing more important than coming in first is completing the objective! Racers, you have three laps to achieve your goal! Now! START! YOUR! ENGINES!!"

Caine's kart roared to life without Pomni touching anything. The others revved theirs in response. Bubble hovered over the front of the line with a traffic light hanging from their mouth. Pomni's heart hammered as the final countdown began.

The first light lit yellow.

The second light lit yellow.

The third light lit yellow.

Then all three light turned green.

The screeching of tires drowned out Pomni's screams as all six karts took off. After the first turn from the starting line, the track dove down underground, plunging them into darkness.

"Pomni, my dear, good to hear you're already having a good time! Haha! Now, If you can spare your screams of excitement for a moment, I'll tell you how things work around here." Caine's voice came over the kart's radio. She wasn't sure how she could hear him over the engine and the rushing of wind, but that didn't matter at the moment. She had a death grip on the steering wheel that moved on its own as it drifted through the sharp curves effortlessly. "On the track, you'll see some floating surprise boxes. Go ahead and drive through one." The kart maneuvered itself to a box and Pomni shut her eyes out of reflex. The box exploded into confetti and a small indicator light lit up on the dash. "Congratulations! You successfully collected an item! The items from the boxes are completely random! Even I don't know what you'll get each time you hit one! Anyway, these items can range from boosters to weapons to traps that can assist you in the race if used strategically. Click the flashing button to see what you got!"

Pomni opened her eyes and could barely get her hand to let go of the wheel. She hit the light and a party popper appeared in her hand.

"Lucky you! You got a popper! Those can be dropped on the track as explosive surprises for those behind you! Unfortunately, it's not too much use being in dead last. Let's change that! There's a speed booster up ahead! Flashing orange and red, can't miss it!"

"Woah! Wait, what!? Faster!? But-AAAAAAAA!" The kart accelerated into a flashing lane of red and orange. What already felt like top speed was suddenly mach speed. She quickly caught up with and flew past Zooble, who just watched her go by.

"WOOHOO! There's nothing like the rush of a good boost!" Caine's overly excited voice came through the radio again. "Now that you're in front of someone, drop the popper on the track."

Pomni's shaking hand refused to let go of the popper.

"....any time now..." Caine said, a little worried.

Pomni struggled to get it together.

"Uh... I wouldn't hang on to that popper too long, if I were you. Please, drop it on the track."

Pomni was nearly hyperventilating. This was all too much. So much was happening at once.

"Pomni! Drop the popper before it-" BANG!

The popper exploded, causing the kart to spin out of control. She hit the side wall and the kart came to a dead stop. Amazingly, she and the kart were unharmed. She felt dizzy and saw literal stars spinning over her head.

"Pomni! Are you alright? I didn't think you would hold on to it that long or I would have told you sooner that some items work against you if you don't use them quick enough! And don't worry about the crash, it happens to the best of us. No need to be embarrassed. Let's get you rolling again!"

"No! Please, wait-!"

The kart quickly gained speed and rejoined the race just in time for Zooble to catch up. Zooble looked at Pomni, sighed and shook their head. This was no way to introduce a new comer. Only Caine would be so focused on the race that he wouldn't realize just how scared Pomni was. She seemed so panicked she may abstract same day. Now that would be sad.

"Hey! New-blood!" Zooble called out, their kart even with Pomni's.

Pomni looked over. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Nothing out here can actually hurt you. Just finish the race. You'll be fine."

"Help me! Please!" Pomni begged.

"I am. Just relax. Don't worry about winning or the stupid objective." Zooble's monotone delivery was actually convincing in the moment. Like all of this really wasn't something to worry about. Pomni slowed her breathing a little and wiped her face. She gave Zooble a thank you nod which they returned.

"STUPID!?" Caine's shouting over the radio almost gave Pomni a heart attack. "This may not be my best work but it was work nonetheless, Zooble! Don't you have any respect for the creative process!?"

"Not yours." Zooble retorted.

"Well, I never! Come on, Pomni, let's get away from this party pooper." Caine's kart angrily accelerated away, leaving Zooble in the digital dust.

Each curve and swerve of the track took them deeper down until the tunnel opened into a vast cavern. The cavern wall was lined with glowing crystals all the way to the top Where they could see the track winding up the nest around the Queen to the jump over her head where a slowly rotating target hovered.

"There it is! It doesn't look like any of the others have got it yet! You could win your very first race! Go get it!" Caine encouraged enthusiastically. "Ooo! Another box!"

This one gave her a cupcake.

"Go ahead! Eat it! This item will also give you a boost, and don't worry, it doesn't explode."

"Interloper!" The long, slug-like body of the Gloink Queen emerged from the shadows. She raised her tail and spat Gloink minions on the track in front of Pomni. There were too many in the way to avoid, even with Caine's assistance. The kart smacked into no fewer than three Gloinks, one which absconded with Pomni's cupcake. Without it, Pomni just held on for dear life as the kart lunched into the air. Because of the Gloinks, the kart barely had enough momentum to make it to the other side, let alone go high enough to be anywhere near the target. The kart came down on the sloped track on the other side and started winding out of the cavern.

"That dastardly Queen! Don't worry, Pomni! We'll get her on the next lap! I know I said I would just help you with the first, but I must admit, I'm having a little too much fun! It's been awhile since I've been involved in a race myself, and, if I may say so, you're a fantastic addition to the Raceway! You've only crashed once! Many can't get past the first turn their first time!" His laughter echoed out the tunnel as they surfaced to cross the finish line and complete the first lap.

Pomni finally realized she really had no choice in the matter. Panicking and screaming wasn't helping, so she focused her energy on to what was right in front of her. She was gaining on another racer. A tall figure in a purple and white kart. Pomni took a breath, adjusted her grip on the steering wheel and floored the accelerator. The kart lurched forward with power one only thinks a kart can achieve. Gold flames flew out the tail pipes and she passed Kinger like he was standing still.

Kinger gave her a friendly wave as she flew by.

"WOAH, MAMA!! That's more like it!" Caine exclaimed.

Pomni crossed the line with the leaderboard saying she was in fourth place. She rocketed back down into the caves and started making ground on the next racer.

Gangle only saw Pomni after she dropped a bar of soap. "I'm sorry!" She gasped. "Look out!"

Pomni swerved just in time to avoid the soap, only barely missing the wall because of Caine. "What was that!?"

"Other item!" Caine answered. "Get the next box! Let's see if we can return the favor!"

Pomni pressed the glowing button and opened her hand unsure of what would happen. A fountain pen appeared. She looked at it with confusion.

"Perfect!" Exclaimed Caine. "Throw it!"

Without hesitation, having learned her lesson from the popper, Pomni threw the pen and it flew like a javelin at Gangle. The pen swerved around Gangles' head and she only had time to make the smallest squeaks of surprise before the pen inked all over her face.

"My eyes! I can't see!" She moved too far the right and hit the divider in a fork in the track. Her kart crashed and Pomni kept left, going back down to the main chamber of the Gloink Queen.

"Excellent work, Pomni!" Praised Caine. "You're a natural!"

Pomni half smiled, half grimaced. She still wasn't sure what to make of any of this. She was just doing her best to tread water after being thrown into the deep end. An explosion ahead kept Pomni's head in the race. She heard shouting and cackling and a mixture of strange sound effects that we're certainly the censors of a few choice words.

"Be careful. That was a purple seashell." Caine voice sounding strangely serious.

"A what?"

"A purple seashell. It's one of the most powerful items in the game. It flies directly to the person in first place and blows them up, heavily delaying them and often drastically changing the game. There are three different types of seashells; white, orange and purple. Only the purple ones fly. The white ones just sort of frisbee around and hit anything in around them, including you, so use them wisely. And the orange ones target the person immediately in front of you."

Pomni wasn't taking any of this in. Seashells, pens, soap, party poppers, cupcakes?? What??

"LOOK OUT!" Caine's warning got Pomni to swerve away from a Gloink. "Focus, Pomni! We're almost at the jump!"

Ragatha would have tried for the target first but Jax beat her to it thanks to his shell. "You'll have to try harder than that, Rag-head!" He accelerated into the jump and passed just right of the target. He didn't touch it but puts his hand out like he could just to taunt Ragatha.

Ragatha was going too slow and had to bypass the jump entirely. She roared with frustration and slammed her accelerator to try and catch up with him.

"This is your chance! GO GO GO!" Caine was full on cheering for her to win at this point.

Pomni got around the Gloinks much easier this time and accelerated into the jump like a pro. She reached....but she was too short. She flew just under the target and away from the Gloinks.

"You'll have to use a boost to get the target, Pomni! And don't worry, I am making a note right now to lower the target next time I use this track. That won't happen again just because someone's arms are too short. You're still doing great!"

One the way back up, Pomni caught up close with Ragatha who was still fuming. Ragatha went through a box and a red pepper appeared in her hand. Pomni watched her down it in one bite. Her sky blue tracksuit turned red and her hair caught fire. Pomni could swear flames were shooting from Ragatha's eyes as well, but that could have been a hallucination.

"Oh, this outa be good." Caine subtly moved his kart further away from Ragatha.

"Wh-what's happening to her?"

"Chili pepper! Does exactly what you think it'll do."

Not a beat later, Ragatha took a deep breath and sent a stream of red hot flames from her mouth to the kart ahead. The flames hit Jax hard and make him spin out. Pomni and Ragatha pass him and Ragatha's fire fades. She turns her head to look at Pomni and gives a wave and a smile. Pomni nervously waved back. They cross the finish line tying for first. Bubble had a sign that read "3/3 laps."

"This is it, Pomni! It's do or die! The final lap! It all comes down to this!!" Caine's voice increased in pitch with each sentence. He was nearly indistinguishable from a squeaky toy by the end.

Ragatha smiled reassuringly at Pomni. "Don't listen to him. It's not that serious. Just enjoy the ride and go around one more time. Win or lose, we're all having fun."

Pomni gave a small smile back. Then something flew between her and Ragatha. A white shell.

"[§%&#]" Ragatha swore under her breath. She looked back and saw the glare of absolute malice in Jax's eyes. "I'll handle him. See you at the winner's circle!" She brake checked Jax, causing him to swerve away from Pomni.

Pomni accelerated away, more shouts and explosions fading. It was oddly quiet in the tunnel to the Lair. Just her and kart. The engine pushed to it's limit, the tires screaming on each tight turn, the chime of the item button after going through a box. All the chaos. All the madness that was suddenly her life. It all felt so simple now.

Race.

The pistons were her heart beat. The wind was her breath. The world around her blurred as she burst into the nest cavern. She held out her hand. A cupcake.

She ate it. Candle and all.

She hit the ramp at maximum speed. She flew so high and fast, she didn't even register she hit the target. She couldn't hear Caine over the adrenaline. The kart raced so far ahead of everyone else, she was waiting a whole twenty seconds at the finish line for anyone else to show up.

Caine congratulated her in person. Shaking her hand so vigorously, her whole body shook with it. Confetti rained down from the sky. The crowd of faceless and nameless NPCs was on its feet. The other racers stood with her and waved at the crowd.

Pomni couldn't remember her name. She couldn't remember how she got here. But one feeling was familiar to her. Victory. Turns out it tastes just as sweet in the digital world....and it was addicting.

~~~

Behind the finish line was the garage. Inside the garage were private quarters for the racers. Inside one of these rooms was Kaufmo, or rather, what was left of him. A black disjointed mass of eyes and limbs splayed out on the floor. The cheering outside sent it into a flying rage, crashing against the wall, trying to force its way out.

The voices. The noise. The ceaseless, endless noise. Make it stop!

MAKE IT STOP!

M̷̤̙̦̼͇̩̖͍͔̒̈́͗̍͊͂̔A̴̦͗Ḳ̵̰͙̮̻̂͂̓̐̉̓́̈͒̈́̚͠Ȩ̵̈́͛̏̿͑ ̵̢̣͎̲̭̲͔̖̱̔̔̈́̀̐̃̚͘͠Ĩ̴̧̨͉͇̟͙̌Ţ̴͈̞͉͕̭͓̰͔̏̋̈́̈͐̈́͆̔ͅ ̶̻̰̪̠͙͓͗̌̓̏̈́̈́̀S̴̛̠̻͙̼̫̼̱͚͛̈́̔̊́̊͑̿̊̀Ţ̵̖̳̻͙̲̮̺̹͈͈̯́͝ͅO̷̠̖̤͈̚̚ͅP̶̧̨̼̣̤͇̮̣͔̻̹̩͒̏̌̔͗̇̄̒̓́̚

~~~

Ch2

[ox-imagines]

Before the Party

Summary: Taerae is over at his partner's house preparing for a Christmas party with the boys, enjoying the quality time with her before everyone else arrives.

Word Count: 1058

Warnings: food prep, makeout that gets mildly steamy

The scent of spices filled the air, mixing delightfully with the faint holiday music and the aroma of the tree in the corner. A soft hum rose in my chest as I felt a pair of arms around my waist.

“Let me help,” Taerae’s low, cheery voice spoke from behind me and he removed one of his hands from me, dipping a finger into the white chocolate I was melting on the stove. He hissed softly at the high temperature, but quickly put it in his mouth regardless.

“How about you don’t stick your fingers in the food?” I chuckled, looking over my shoulder at him. 

He just gave me a wide grin, his cheeks pink and his eyes sparkling behind the frames of his glasses. “I think it needs candy cane.”

“Duh? Tae, you can’t add the candy cane in the pot, though, or it’ll melt.”

“I know! I thought maybe it would be cool though. Like maybe it would add some peppermint flavor to the chocolate in addition to the candy cane on top. And make it pink!” He reached for the bowl of crushed candy canes and gave me a quizzical look.

“Okay, fine. Put some in,” I couldn’t help but grin at him. “But you’re in charge of crushing more candy canes to make up for the unplanned expenditure.”

“Those are some big fancy words,” Taerae teased as he spooned some of the candy into the pot, using almost half. An apologetic grin and kiss on the cheek from him more than made up for it, though.

I turned the burner off under the pot of chocolate as I pulled out the brownies. “These need to cool for a few minutes and then can be rolled into balls, here,” I handed him a pack of candy-stripe patterned sticks, “are the sticks for them, they’ll go on the stick, then get dipped in the chocolate, then get dipped in the candy cane bits. I need to put together the jalapeno poppers, can I trust you to do that?”

He nodded vigorously. “Of course, baby.” I smiled as I listened to him sing while he worked. Things went smoothly until Taerae tried to make the deviled eggs. Three of the eggs ended up on the floor whilst he was peeling them, then after recovering from that he made the filling. “Hey, baby, could you come taste this?”

I obliged, regretfully unable to keep from making a sour expression as I tasted it. “Taerae…I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t trust your cooking. Please get out of my kitchen.”

“Ah,” he spoke quietly, giving me a half-smile as he looked down at the questionable color of the egg filling.

“Your help has been so appreciated and I love working with you, but I can finish the rest on my own,” I smiled apologetically, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand.” He grinned and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “I’ll go finish the decorations, I guess.”

I went back to work, able to get things done quicker without another person in the kitchen though his presence was missed; it helped that I could hear him cheerfully singing along to carols as he decorated. After finishing the jalapeno poppers, I threw some bread in the oven and remade the deviled egg filling, piping it into the eggs. Taerae had stopped singing. “Tae? Baby?” I pulled my apron over my head and set it over a chair, then stepped out of the kitchen. Taerae was standing there smirking, casually holding up a felt mistletoe decoration. “Oh,” I raised my eyebrows.

“I found this, where should I hang it?” His eyes didn’t leave mine, his face getting closer; his breath was warm against my face. I couldn’t tell if the question was intentionally rhetorical or if he just didn’t care enough to wait for an answer.

“Taerae…” Our lips melded together in a way I’d never get tired of, the taste of him gracing my mouth as he ran his tongue over my bottom lip, sending my senses into overdrive. We pulled away momentarily and he removed his glasses, sliding them into one of his pockets before passionately pressing his face to mine once more. I slipped my hands under his hoodie, earning a soft whine from him. One of his hands found its way up to the nape of my neck and cradled my head as he kissed me harder. His fingers wound their way up into my hair. My skin heated under his touch and I could feel that he was getting hotter too.

“Baby,” he whimpered softly as he caught his breath, his thumb rubbing circles against my waist. “I want you,” his deep voice was breathy, wide eyes searching mine. Without another word, I pulled his hoodie over his head and reattached myself to him, my hands exploring his lean torso while his tongue traversed my mouth.

Neither of us were aware of how long we stayed there, pressed against each other, my back to the wall, but gradually an unpleasant smell blighted the air. My eyes flew open, though Taerae’s lips stayed affixed to my neck as if he didn’t notice, his hips rolling lightly against mine. “The bread,” I stated as I realized what the smell was. 

“Hm?” He pulled away with a soft hum. His fluffy hair was disheveled, his cheeks and lips alike were reddened and his eyes had an almost dazed look to them.

I took a moment to admire him, trying to recollect the words that the sight of him had scattered out of my reach. “The, the bread. I had cheesy bread in the oven. I must’ve forgotten to set a timer, it smells like it’s burning.”

Taerae chuckled, retrieving his hoodie from where it had been haphazardly tossed aside onto the ground. “Well,” he ran a hand back through his hair and held his hoodie to his chest, smiling as if he’d suddenly grown shy. “It’s probably a good thing that’s what interrupted us and not the others’ arrival.” He pulled his hoodie back on, then gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. “Go take care of the bread, my love. I’ll, uh,” with a giggle, he picked up the mistletoe decoration once again. “I’ll find somewhere to hang this.”

[fandomficsnstuff]

Witches And Wizards - 23

(Warnings: Fluff, fluff and more fluff! A bit of angsty fluff, I think, but otherwise this is a pretty fluffy chapter too, I think)

Note: I once read parts of a fic where the reader has magic and goes back in time, meeting Merlin. I sadly can’t find it anymore. Also Fred didn’t die in this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The one thing she now hated about Hogwarts was the stairs. The stairs that had previously filled with awe and amazement and wonder were now the bane of her existence. Or rather, her left leg’s existence, as she refused to use the Floo network for everything, determined to make it on her own, as she had when she was a student. She winced a little at the pain in her leg as she walked down the last few steps, papers in one hand and cane in the other, leaving her unable to grab the reiling when she felt her foot slip on the last step, her eyes widening and she let go of the papers in an effort to catch the railing to steady herself when someone helped her to it. She looked up to see who had caught her, helping her get steady on her feet again and she grinned “Professor Emrys! It appears that you showed up just at the right time” she stated with amusement once she got steady, beginning to lean down to pick up the papers she dropped when Merlin bent down and gathered them for her “I-I was looking for you, actually” he admitted, gathering them neatly before standing back up, yet he didn’t give the papers to her. “Really? What for?”

“I-I was wondering-... w-what-... has anyone… done anything about your leg? Is there anything that helps?” he asked with a small frown and some hesitancy but she just smiled at him “well… warmth sometimes helps, such as a blanket over my leg or something like that. Though it seems that it gets much worse the colder the year gets” she admitted, Merlin nodding, staring at her with a soft expression and she smiled again, glancing at her papers before looking back up at him, clearing her throat lightly “Professor Emrys, unless you want to take a quiz on the unknown side effects of Angel’s Trumpet and the danger of unknown plants and how to recognize them in the wild then I think you ought to return those papers to me” she joked, Merlin snapping out of his daze, blinking as he nervously nodded but he offered her his arm instead on her left side “are you going to your class?”

“I am, yes.”

“Would you mind if-”

“Not at all” she said with a warm smile, looping her arm in his, still walking while leaning on her cane and Merlin frowned at it “you can lean on me if you need to, I won’t mind, I promise” he stated and she chuckled lightly “thank you, but I couldn’t do that to you. Besides, you’re on the wrong side of me. My cane is in the opposite hand of the leg that hurts because when I lean on it, it lifts up my leg so I don’t have to walk too much on it. Many make the mistake of walking with the cane on the same side as their injured leg or foot, even though, in reality, it only puts more weight on it” she explained plainly before frowning, yet with a smile “I’m sorry, the nurses at St. Mungo’s were very-... strict” she admitted nervously, Merlin just smiling at her. He stopped walking, shifted the papers to his other hand, moved over on the right side of her, took her cane and replaced it with his arm, smiling at her in a way that made every single cell in her body flutter like a butterfly, a large grin on her lips that Merlin willingly drowned in. “Thank you, Merlin” she said softly, leaning on him as she would with her cane. “A-And nothing helps?”

“They say the tibia bone was shattered, cracked in several places. They said some splinters appeared to have made their way into my muscles. They removed them but couldn’t be certain if I would ever walk normally again. Honestly, I’d just settle for a day without pain now” she joked with amusement and Merlin forced a smile, a feeling of regret and guilt taking root in his gut. “You once agreed that it was possible to have a life before the one we’re living,” he started and Ophelia looked at him casually, nodding before looking ahead again as they continued to walk “what if-... d-do you think someone could-... have wronged someone in one life and make up for it in another?” he asked hesitantly and she frowned before shrugging lightly “that depends on the wrong they wanted to right, I suppose…”

“Hurting someone…”

“Intentionally?”

“No, but-... letting it happen, not doing enough to prevent it from happening…”

“Well, if they tried to help, I don’t think it’s a wrong… if they stood by and just-... watched… then yes, I’d say it’s a wrong, but if it wasn’t intentionally and they tried to help in some way, or wanted to and simply couldn’t for their own life’s sake or someone else’s, I’d say they were brave. Many people do nothing but stand to the side and watch. Trying to help, whether it’s successful or not, is always a brave thing” she admitted softly, smiling at Merlin in a way that made him melt inside “whatever wrong you feel you have to right, I don’t believe there’s anything to right to begin with. From what I know, you’re a good man, your parents raised you well” she complimented and he smiled shyly at her before looking down “I never knew my father… my mother raised me until she had to send me away, for my own safety…”

“I’m sorry to hear that…”

“It’s alright, she had a friend who took care of me… he taught me everything he knew. All that I know is thanks to him” he stated with a smile and Ophelia grinned “is that why I don’t remember seeing you at Hogwarts? You were taught privately?”

“Y-Yes, I suppose…”

“Who was your teacher? A former professor of some sort?”

“I-I suppose. His name was Gaius and-” he stopped talking as she suddenly stopped walking, frowning at him and he frowned right back at her, though secretly his heart raced with anticipation and hope. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I just-” she trailed off, looking off to the side and Merlin took a step closer with a hopeful look in his eyes “what? What is it?”

“I feel like I know that name, that’s all” she admitted with red cheeks and Merlin could barely contain his joy, grinning at her as she blinked, looking back up at him, frowning yet with a smile “I suppose I might’ve known him in this ‘past life’ we’re talking about, I don’t know why else I’d feel familiar with that name” she admitted nervously, Merlin grinning as he took her arm once again, continuing to lead her to the greenhouses, stopping by the large tree inside the Herbology wing, just outside the greenhouses with the plants used for teaching, and she grinned at him, taking the papers and her cane from him “thank you, for walking with me, it was a great help for my leg” she admitted, Merlin nodding with an anxious yet happy smile, the two just staring at each other with grins until some students began to snicker and whisper, making Ophelia snap out of her happy little bubble “right then, thank you for helping me with my leg, Professor Emrys. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“I look forward to it, Professor Black” he stated curtly and he could just see in her eyes how happy it made her to hear that title, he had imagined it would, of course, but actually seeing it… nothing could compare.

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

She limped towards the table as the students gathered into the Great Hall, a frown on her brows and she winced a little at her leg, on her way to the seat Neville was already in when someone gently touched her shoulder and she turned. Her heart raced when she saw him and she smiled. He moved to the right side of her and extended his arm, making her laugh and smile, taking it and briefly leaning her head on his shoulder before walking with him, he even pulled the chair out for her, sitting next to her with Hagrid on the other side of her. “Thank you, Professor Emrys, both for helping me and for pulling out my chair” she stated with a grin, Merlin nodding with a smile of his own “it was my pleasure” he stated with a grin of his own, Hagrid watching the two of them interact with a small frown. Ophelia wasn’t one to be comfortable around just anyone, or even let them touch her, even if it was to help her walk with her leg. She’d rather throw herself down the Grand Staircase than accept help from a stranger, even if they were her coworker, and Molly had been the one to help her after she woke up and got out of St. Mungo’s, the only one Ophelia had allowed to help her. Molly had told him of how cold Ophelia had become, like a piece of her, a vital piece, was gone. How she barely let anyone touch her anymore, even to help her stand, how she barely gave a genuine smile, her eyes empty and blank. But she had accepted his touch, even leaning her head on his shoulder briefly; he hadn’t seen her do that since her boyfriend Jaime died at the Battle of Hogwarts and with what Molly told him, after waking up, she’d rather suffer the Cruciatus curse than get close to anyone new in her life. Or old. “So, Professor Black, how did the class go?”

“Quite well, actually, Sprout taught them all well, but that’s no surprise, she’s a brilliant woman and skilled with plants of all kinds. It’s a shame she retired” she admitted with a small frown, Hagrid looking between the two with a confused frown before clearing his throat, gathering their attention “she said something about not being able to see the school the same way after Dumbledore died” he announced, trying to become a part of the conversation and Ophelia frowned, nodding with a sad look in her eyes “I can imagine that, even being back here feels-... distant” she admitted with a small frown before quieting down as food appeared on the tables. She put various kinds of food on her plates, at least one of each, aside from a few things she didn’t like, and Merlin smirked. She still wanted to taste everything to figure out what she wanted to eat the most, not wanting to miss out on something new that she might like. “Merlin, could you pass me the gravy?” she asked softly, Merlin nodding, none of them noticing how Hagrid choked on his food at the first name. “Are you sure? I don’t think you’ll like it” Merlin admitted as he handed it to her and she narrowed her eyes at him with a smirk “I may surprise you yet, Professor Emrys” she teased and Merlin smirked as she poured some of the gravy on her plate, watching her with utter amusement as she tasted some of it, immediately gagging, Merlin handing her a napkin and she subtly spit the gravy out and quickly drank some water to try and wash away the taste. “Merlin’s Beard! That’s horrible” she admitted quietly with a laugh and Merlin smirked. She always hated the-

“The texture is like sand in flavored water” she whispered with a laugh, Merlin nodding with that same smirk “it is” he agreed, smiling at her with utter adoration as she subtly wiped her tongue with the napkin, cringing at the gravy that had touched some of the other food on her plate “fuck” she muttered and Merlin smirked, sneakily reaching a hand over her food and she frowned at him as his hand hovered over the food with the gravy on it, she looked back at the hand that hovered over her food, not seeing the way Merlin’s eyes glowed for a brief second but when he removed his hand, the gravy was gone. Ophelia’s eyes widened and she looked at Merlin in shock “how-... how did you do that?! You’re a non-verbal who doesn’t need a wand?!” she asked with shock, Merlin’s cheeks growing red under his black stubble beard “I-I suppose-”

“You ‘suppose’?? You’re making it very hard to catch up to” she teased, while Hagrid was still in a shocked state, unable to say a single thing as he just stared at them, mouth half open as Ophelia began to eat, looking to her side to look at him, frowning “you’re not hungry?” she asked and gestured to his plate casually, Hagrid snapping out of his daze, blinking, a frown forming on his face before slowly picking up his fork and knife, confusion still written all over his face as he began to eat. Ophelia gave Merlin a small smirk, shaking her head with a grin “a non-verbal and wandless” she muttered with amazement, smiling at him “you’re quite the man, it seems, Professor Emrys.”

“I’m only trying to live up to you” he stated and she laughed, throwing her head back briefly as she grinned “me?? I’m not a non-verbal! I can do one jinx and it’s only defensive, and I certainly can’t cast any notable spells without a wand” she stated through her laughter, Merlin remembering the blue sparks she used when they reached the cup of life in Camelot… blinding the guards for enough time for Merlin and Lancelot to get the upper hand from the start. He smiled at that memory, watching her eat, barely getting anything to eat himself, too caught up in admiring her while he could, overjoyed to find that everything about her seemed the same, the changes she went through in Camelot had stuck with her instead of when she had first arrived, back then she was barely allowing a hug or compliment to be given to her, the very idea of any conflict had her running for the hills. He wondered if she still needed Sleeping Draught, she still used it before she-... before the crystal cave.

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

Her eyes were closed tightly, squeezed shut as she gripped the armrest of her lounge sofa by the fire, tears running down her cheeks as she gritted her teeth while Madam Pomfrey was applying a cream to the slightly deformed knee and the area closely above and below it, both of them hoping it’d soothe the pain once it was through the skin. “Is there anything else-”

“NO! I’m sorry, I mean-... ‘no’, thank you” she managed through gritted teeth and Madam Pomfrey nodded with sad eyes “do you want company?” she asked fondly and Ophelia was silent for a few seconds before stiffly shaking her head, her breathing shaky as she clung to that damn armrest like her life depended on it “no, thank you, I-... I feel as though I’ll shout and scream and-... I-I’d like to be alone” she managed to utter, Madam Pomfrey nodding, standing up, giving her shoulder a comforting, sympathetic squeeze as she handed Ophelia a small vial with some liquid in it “here, drink this, dear, it’ll give you a few hours of sleep and peace. I’ll check on you after lunch, it should have worked by then” she stated comfortingly before leaving the room for lunch. The second the door was closed Ophelia managed to cast a silencing charm on the room before screaming in agony at her leg as it felt like it was being crushed slowly, tears running down her cheeks as she sobbed in pain, managing to chug down the liquid in the vial before dropping it on the floor, eager for it to work and put her to sleep.

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

Minerva noticed how Merlin looked from side to side, not as subtle as he probably thought himself to be and she leaned closer “is there a problem, Professor Emrys?” she asked calmly, Merlin looking at her, cheeks burning a little red under that black stubble as he cleared his throat awkwardly “no, sorry, just-... where’s Professor Black?” he asked, Minerva hesitating while glancing at Madam Pomfrey further down the table before looking back at Merlin “she’s currently-... indisposed. Not to worry, Professor Emrys, she’s in the best of hands” Minerva comforted before going back to eating, Merlin hesitating before nodding to himself. He ate everything on his plate as though he was a starved man before filling it once more, only the food he picked was everything Ophelia would have picked if she had been there, Hagrid easily noticed that. Merlin excused himself and got up, walking through the castle and to the seventh floor in the Astronomy Tower, stopping in the hallway with the tapestry of the wizard and his ballet trolls. He wandered around for a while, back and forth, when suddenly the wall in front of him changed, a door appearing seemingly out of nowhere and he hesitated before leaning closer to it, knocking on it, waiting outside. “Professor Black? Are you alright? I’ve brought you some lunch” he called, knocking again, a frown on his brows as he reached for the handle, finding that the door was unlocked. He hesitantly peeked his head inside, frowning with worry when he saw her laying in front of a fire in her room on a couch, sweat covering her body, cheeks red with dry tears, eyes red and puffy. Her cane was leaning against the wall, close to the hallway and the door, not too far from the fireplace she was laying in front of. He hesitantly put the food down on the large table in front of him and closed the door, walking over to her. She looked absolutely exhausted, like she had been running all her life without a break and finally passed out. Like she had been in excruciating pain before her body shut down. “Ophelia?” he asked as he kneeled down in front of the fire to be by her side, ignoring the burning warmth he felt from being so close to the fire, his hand reaching up, intending to cup her cheek but when he touched it, he felt how sticky it was. “Ophelia??” he gently gripped her cheek, a constant look of worry on his face as he shook her slightly “Ophelia?! Ophelia-”

“It’s alright, Professor Emrys” he spun around to see Madam Pomfrey, a small smile on her lips as she walked in and walked over to Ophelia. “I gave her something to make her sleep through the pain, it’ll be better by the time she wakes up, but it won’t be for another few hours” she admitted, reaching down and laying a hand over Ophelia wounded knee and even through all the layers of clothes and fabric, she could feel the heat coming off of it. Madam Pomfrey nodded to herself and retracted her hand, giving a soft, caring smile at the unconscious Ophelia. “She was a Prefect of Ravenclaw, you know, always whipping her friends into shape, but I suspect she got up to much more than she let on, especially once she became head girl, and turned a blind eye to much of her friends’ pranks and mischief” she spoke softly, Merlin smiling at the words, nodding and without thinking, he responded; “I know, she told me. She beat Cho at Seeker in Quidditch, too” he mumbled, Madam Pomfrey frowning at him “how do you know that? She hasn’t talked about her school years since the battle” she asked with suspicion, Merlin’s cheeks and ears growing hot and red as he looked at her, a look of panic in his eyes “no, I just- s-she’s mentioned it, a-a while ago, that is… over breakfast, I think it was” he muttered quickly, Madam Pomfrey narrowing her eyes at him as he looked back at Ophelia “I see…” she muttered with suspicion before looking back at Ophelia “well, best let her rest for now. Come on, Professor Emrys” she began to turn to walk out of the room when Merlin didn’t follow her and she turned to see him gently shake his head “no, I’ll-... I’ll stay with her” he muttered, Madam Pomfrey studying him closely before nodding to herself “well, suit yourself, Professor Emrys, if she was comfortable enough to share her school years with you, I suppose she wouldn’t mind, though I would of course ask you to not disturb any of her things and respect her privacy” she nodded to herself again and left the room. Once she was gone, Merlin let out a heavy breath, hesitating before allowing himself a brief moment of how it used to be, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, his thumb gently brushing against her cheekbone and the sweaty, sticky skin, a small sigh leaving him. His eyes glowed briefly and a cloth appeared in his hand and with a single look, the cloth grew damp and he began to wash off the sweat and tears on her face so she’d wake up a little more comfortably. It was only then that he realized something. The room he was in, her room, was almost like the one she had in Camelot, only built upon and modified with a few things added, since it was now possible for her with magic to add different things she desired and wanted, a gramophone standing near the desk in front of the large window, resting atop a small shelf with three shelves in it, all of them filled with large, paper-thin squares, no doubt containing the music he knew she had missed so dearly in Camelot. He frowned yet with a smile, getting up and looking around. The table he put the food on, the walls were the same stone and the same color, the floors had been turned from stone into hardwood and the ceiling expanded upwards in a glass bubble, the evening sun somehow shining down into the Room as well as from the two windows in the Room itself. Outside of the window behind her desk, which was filled with only God knows what, was a training yard, the sun was setting over the grassy field but he recognised it as the training yard Arthur almost made him deaf in, with how many times he hit him on the side of his helmet, he could still hear a bit of the ringing in his ears if he tried to imagine it.

[earth-b0y]

Now permitted to remove their blindfolds, a group of eight short teenagers step into the foyer of Site-01, led by an individual none other than O5-6, "Dogwood," himself.

"Well, we made it," he says, making a sweeping gesture at their surroundings. "Been a long trip to get here from Three Ports, eh?"

He watches with a vague sense of amusement as the teens take in the Victorian interior of the building, looking up at the ceiling and gawking around like they'd never seen such opulence before, and given their backgrounds, it's likely they have not. While they all look like children to some degree, they each have a few features in common: a level of androgyny, antennae, slit pupils more befitting of a cat than a human, and in the mouths of those that hold theirs agape, sharp fangs.

A boy with short brown hair, wispy bangs, and slightly longer sidelocks signs something to a tanned and black-haired girl standing beside him.

"You think so, Kan? Were you counting the seconds?" she asks. The girl's tone is genuine and light, airy, even. Kan nods, and then he points at an old wooden time clock on the wall, the kind made in the 1880s to keep track of when employees come and go. "But we don't know what time zone we're in."

The smallest girl, one standing with a height of around fifteen apples stacked together, walks toward the antique, her skirt so long that it drags along the marble floor behind her. The clock is an intriguing old thing, a novelty. She reaches out with one hand, lifting the eyepatch over her left eye with the other.

"Hey!" Dogwood snaps, and the tiny girl halts as her path is blocked by his cane. "Don't try to mess with that. You might forget where you are."

She mumbles an apology in Chinese and returns to the others, and then movement on the group's right side turns their attention to a woman, Magnolia, leaning against a tall archway with her arms crossed. With her blouse tucked into her lengthy skirt and hair in a tight bun, only a single curl falling loose against her forehead and ending just below her furrowed, craggy brow as she appraises each of them, she looks like a schoolteacher or librarian of the strictest order.

"Great. More children," Magnolia speaks curtly. "Were the three upstairs not enough for you, Dogwood?"

"Don't be like that, Mags; these aren't just children," Dogwood replies. He pats the nearest boy on the shoulder and gestures to the next. "They're young adults, same age as plenty of our recruits, only more experienced! They've been through a lot already; I think they can handle themselves."

"And yet, if you let them loose on a playground, I'm sure they'd run amok like feral cats," Magnolia says, their voice dripping with cold sarcasm off of a glacial expression.

Dogwood opens his mouth to retort, but he's interrupted by a voice calling from the top of the stairs, "My friends!"

All eyes turn to see Min bounding down the stairs, dressed like a little prince in suspender shorts and a frilly shirt with sleeves that flap like flags as he waves excitedly. The eight teens standing by the entrance light up, chattering excitedly in their native tongues. Min hops down the final steps, not noticing Magnolia shaking her head and pushing off the wall, taking her leave without a word.

"Heh, apologies, Min, but you'll have to go right back up those stairs. The meeting room is up there!" Dogwood chuckles, then he takes stock of everyone in the room and nods. "Yep, enough seats for all of us. Let's go."

[rainofaugustsith]

I absolutely agree with this. I think point #2 needs to be touched upon more, though, because in my experience there is a large crossover between people who do not consider the needs of disabled or chronically ill community members and people advocating for walkable or car-free futures.

Walkability and accessibility have to be addressed and approached together.

In my own city, I've personally seen a number of trends that are directly contributing to walkable cities but making it harder for people who need accessibility because they are deprioritizing cars too much or in the wrong ways. And they were done because obviously nobody considered access when they were designed or shrugged it off as irrelevant. IMHO all of these things could be alleviated if people took more time to consider the intersection between walkability and access.

Affordable housing in urban areas - something a lot of disabled people and seniors need - going up without any acknowledgment that any residents of the building might require services provided by cars. I've seen buildings without 15-minute parking or even a safe pickup spot. It's all "we're encouraging our residents to go car-free." That makes it incredibly hard for anyone who needs services like home health care, grocery deliveries, paratransit or a rideshare to pick them up, because there's no place for those providers to park or even stop at the curb. " Just move" isn't feasible when people wait for these apartments sometimes for years, and when there's a dearth of accessible housing. The building itself might be accessible within, but not outside.

Public transit itself that is not friendly to disabled people, which I am seeing even with new construction - for example building elevated train stations with only long staircases, no escalators, and only one elevator all the way down at a dark, desolate corner of the platform. Removing seating at bus stops and stations. Bus drivers that are hostile to people using public transit to carry out their daily errands, for example trying to get on the bus with a few bags of groceries. Buses with very narrow seats that make it hard for anyone who is tall or heavy or has a brace or cane on their feet or legs to sit comfortably. Cyclists taking spaces on trains meant for wheelchair access, forcing people who need those spaces to wait for another train.

The expectation that anyone who is disabled or chronically ill has, needs, wants or should have a "caretaker" who can magically help them circumvent all the challenges to transportation. Yes, some of us need supportive services and caregivers. That does not mean those things are the default or are required by disabled individuals at all times for all needs. When disabled people express concerns a lot of the time we get "well ask a neighbor to help uwu!" Not realistic, and even if a neighbor or friend is willing to help out once in a while, are they supposed to do it all the time?

Alternatives to cars that are openly hostile to disabled people by creating inaccessible public spaces. Bike shares and scooters are awesome, but when the docks/stands for them are placed so that they block half the sidewalk, the sidewalk is now inaccessible to a lot of people using wheelchairs or other mobility devices who can't maneuver around the obstacle. Adding to this, people who dump the scooters wherever, again often making it hard for disabled people to navigate around them.

Paratransit services that are burdensome and inconvenient to passengers. In order to use access-a-ride, dial-a-ride, or whatever paratransit might be called in your community, a lot of the time passengers have to book in advance and are expected to give the driver a window of 30 minutes on either side of the pickup time (and expected to literally be on the curb and immediately ready to go for the entire window). And then rides can take hours. It's completely untenable.

People who are saying that walkable cities are ableist might feel that way because they've experienced any or all of the above, and often the response when it's brought up is not "yes, let's look at how we can make this more accessible" but hostility. We have to consider these things together. We just have to. I am all for walkable cities, and yeah, I really appreciate those spaces. But the spaces need to consider how they are navigable by those who can't walk or avail themselves of those car alternatives. For what it's worth, this isn't just disabled and chronically ill people. It might also be pregnant people. It might be seniors. It might be that mom trying to wrangle two small kids and a grocery cart. It could be you or anyone else you know.

I am extremely not going to dignify that 'walkable cities ARE ableist actually' post which has crossed my dash with a reblog, but four things to keep in mind:

'Walkable cities' is almost always a shorthand for 'cities which deprioritise cars as a mode of transport and make it possible and enjoyable to travel by other modes instead', rather than a call for everybody to walk and only walk everywhere all of the time. We live in a golden age of micromobility options, for starters. And when most people do not need to use cars, it will be much easier for people who do.

Advocacy for walkable cities and active transport often does slide right into ableism and fatphobia and this needs to be directly challenged whenever it appears (as someone who has been a cycle commuter my whole adult life and overweight for all but five minutes of my whole adult life, if I never hear "if everybody cycled we would solve the '''obesity epidemic'''!!!" again...)

AT THE SAME TIME, while this will change in degree from place to place, the Venn diagram between 'people who advocate for walkable cities' and 'people who advocate for accessible cities' has a significant degree of overlap. There's probably at least one car-centric conservative out there who genuinely advocates for accessibility by the law of averages, but it's neither a coherent nor common position. Walkability IS a form of accessibility. It is not accessibility for everybody but no single kind of accessibility is, which is why we need cities with MULTIPLE kinds.

Therefore, as with goddamn near everything in life, if you actually want to see more accessible cities...advocate for more accessible cities, and what that means for you. Going 'but there are some people who will always need cars therefore walkable cities is ableist' does exactly nothing except turn people off the idea of change. Say what you want to see. Be specific. Imagine better futures. TL;DR - cui bono when we lock ourselves into "cars vs walkability"? you guessed it - people who benefit from the (observably harmful) car-prioritising status quo. so is this assertion always a cynical psy-op? No. Does it function as one in practice? fuck yes. be smarter.

[ficfanatictrf]

Your Problem

It had started as a prank, a silly little way to mess with your lover as he continued to toil away at his desk on another one of his ideas. He had always been someone who had a one track mind, when he started working on a problem he would not stop till it was finished. Because of this, you just couldn’t fight off the urge to mess with him, his confused and flustered expression always being some of your favorites he would create. Silently sneaking into his lab, you weren’t surprised to see him hunched over his desk, not even aware that you were there as you tiptoed your way across the room. Waiting till he had paused his writing so that he wouldn’t flinch and mess up a figure he would need later, you covered his eyes with your hands, smirking slightly as he tensed for only a brief moment, realizing there was only one person he knew that would greet him in such a way. 

“What can I do for you, dear?” His voice was tired but there was still a hint of endearment in his tone. He also didn’t even move to remove your hands, just going along with what you were doing. 

“I’m hungry” As you said this you removed your hands, watching as he let out a heavy sigh and laid his pencil down before turning to face you. 

“Is this now my problem?” His brow quirked, eyes quickly assessing you from head to toe in search of something. Though what he was looking for you would never know. 

“Yes”

“I understand” He nodded to himself, turning to face away from you once more as he picked up his pencil. You would have thought he was ignoring you if he didn’t continue speaking only seconds later, a hint of something soft in his voice. 

“…gimme…30 seconds” 

“30 seconds and then what?” You teased, knowing he was always someone to postpone conversations that he didn’t really want to have. Perhaps this was one of those moments? But 30 seconds was an odd amount to ask for, that was hardly any time at all. 

“I’ll take you to get food. I’ll solve my problem” He said, putting an emphasis on the my. 

Well, that was not what you were expecting to hear. For a few seconds you couldn’t comprehend what had happened. It was always a nightmare to try and get him to leave his desk, but the moment it was about you he was quick to leave?

Like clockwork, 30 seconds later he finished up an equation that he had been working on. In one smooth motion, he got to his feet while scooping up his cane. As he took in your perplexed expression he frowned, confused at the lack of response and then the reaction. 

“What?” 

You quickly shook your thoughts free. As you took his arm, you snuck a kiss to his cheek, smiling as you finally got one of the reactions you were looking for as his ears turned a soft pink from the attention. 

“Thank you” 

“Yeah yeah, love you”

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

Authors Notes: I just suddenly had this idea in the shower when I should be getting to sleep. It's literally 2:24 am for me and I have class at 8:00 am. But yeah, did this in like 30 minutes.

[holden-caulfield]

What If I Don't Want You To?

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "Hii! I saw that you wanted people to leave kaz requests in your asks so here I am! Could you do a ff in wich the reader is a part of the crows and she's really sarcastic and flirty (similar to jesper) and she constantly flirts with kaz, (he acts like it doesn't affect him but he secretly loves it) and one day she does something especially bold that makes him blush madly and they finally admit their feelings for each other (also a lot of teasing of the crows to kaz pls) thank you so much!"

SUMMARY: reader loves to tease kaz but is scared once she realizes she might have gone too far.

WARNINGS: a mention of blood but nothing graphic

WORD COUNT: 1422

Kaz was the most closed-off person you knew. He never revealed anything, wether it was his feelings or the details of a new plan, and it enraged you. That's why you took it upon yourself to see just how far you could push him.

Flirting with Kaz Brekker wasn't an easy task, nor was it rewarding but it sure was fun. The crows loved to see which new technique you would have used and what effect it would have had on Kaz. It was usually a simple glare; a snarky comment when you were lucky. Bets were made on his reactions and you soon became a part of it.

"What are we thinking today, Y/n?" started Jesper while walking you down to the club, "I'm betting on a smirk."

"A smirk?!" you asked surprised, "I'm not even sure Kaz can smile..."

"He can, i've seen him once. I thought i was dreaming but when i pointed it out, he glared at me. I knew it was real when he whacked me with his cane." stated Jesper, shivering at the memory. You couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics. "Why do you do it, by the way?"

You took a moment to answer, suddenly serious again.

Truth was that all the innocent flirty comments you made −comments that started out as nothing more than a pastime− soon changed something in you. They were becoming truthful, and seeing Kaz answer with nothing but a dismissive comment was not easy. Trying to evoke feelings in him, inadvertently awoke feelings in you. Feelings for your boss that you shouldn't have had.

"Do i need a reason? It's fun, why do you talk to yourself in the mirror when you think no one's watching?" you retorted, raising eyebrows in genuine question.

"First of all, you shouldn't have seen that. Second of all, you should try it, you'd feel much better afterwards." he said simply and you tried restraining the smile that inevitably made its way on your face.

You entered the club which was, as always, in full swing. Several people were already ordering at the bar all kinds of alcohol while many others were betting all their possessions at the tables. Only the dregs knew that the real bets were being placed under the tables.

"Ten that he doesn't say anything." you heard someone whispering.

You were the newest of the dregs and of the crows, but you had already earned yourself a reputation.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out." another voice from somewhere in the club.

That one made you shiver. Would he really reach a point where he would fire you? You were a useful member, you wouldn't have made it into the crows if you weren't, but were you too much? Would he eventually get tired of you?

You walked over to your usual table with Jesper to meet Inej. Kaz wasn't there yet and you were really thinking of ending it there, no more flirting, no more jokes. This was your job, nothing else.

"What do you have for us, boss?" asked Jesper as he saw Kaz approaching.

He looked as he always does: black refined clothes clinging to him in an assortment of sharp edges, making him look even more direful to new merchants. He looked dashing the way a raging sea at night is; frightening, yet enticing. And that was wrong, you reminded yourself.

"It was a dead end." he said, sitting down.

He was in a gloomy mood, certainly for the news, and even though you knew you would have let down the whole club, you couldn't help but think of the comment you had heard moments ago.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out."

You loved working and simply being with the crows and the possibility of being kicked out was positively frightening.

But you couldn't simply stop. Everyone would have noticed something was off, he would have noticed. And then what? He would have known you liked him.

You had to do something big, something he couldn't simply ignore. You might have been out of the dregs for good, or maybe not.

Jesper kicked your shin under the table, making you focus back on the real word and motioning at all the dregs in the club, looking expectantly at you.

Kaz and Inej were now talking about something you weren't quite getting, their voices seemed distant as you tried to forget about everyone's eyes on you. You had made it a thousand times already, you could do it once more.

"So, what are we going to do now?" asked Jesper and Kaz leaned back in his chair.

"I have some other leads we can try, but we'll have to split up." he started, the prospect of new kruge in his pockets making him incredibly more cheerful, "Jesper, Inej heard something about a particularly pricey painting in east stave, she'll bring you there and you'll learn more about it. And Y/n," he began and you perked up.

It was your moment to say something and get it over with.

"We'll go to west stave, i need your help with a lead there."

"Oh, you need me?" you said, your tone excessively teasing.

"That's what i said, but i can ask Inej." he replied drily.

You hesitated but you were not one to back down, especially not in front of one of Kaz's passive aggressive comments.

"But then you wouldn't get to stare at me longingly while i work, would you?" you said, pouting slightly.

You could have expected a retort, a glare, a not-so-nice hand gesture, but not him storming out of the club.

The entirety of the dregs was dumbfounded, Jesper and Inej, who never participated in the bets but still knew about them, were agape. You were mortified.

"Maybe," began Inej, "You should go talk to him."

"And meet my demise?" you asked.

"There must be a reason why he stormed out-"

"Yes, that he would have liked to kill me but blood stains are tough to remove." Jesper laughed but you were quite serious.

You got up either way, you had to explain yourself to him, you owed him at least that, and got out.

You found him not so far from the club's entrance, leaning on the railing over the river. You approached him unsurely.

"Kaz." he didn't turn around, so you got closer to the railing and noticed that his face, even in the night with the palest light of the street lamps, was scarlet. "I'm- i'm sorry, i will stop."

He remained silent.

"That is if you still want me in the crows, if not i'll leave tonight obviously." he turned to you, usually-perfect hair now slightly tousled, face still red and unreadable.

"Why wouldn't i?" he asked.

"I'm always teasing you and i figured you hated that. I will stop."

"What if i don't want you to?" your head perked up and he turned back towards the horizon, but a smirk crept up on his face. He didn't bother hiding it.

"So you can smile?" he rolled his eyes.

"I don't like it when people point out things i obviously do, you should have noticed back there."

Heat rushed to your face and the smile he had plastered onto his face turned into a complacent one.

"It was real? You stare at me longingly?" you asked bewildered.

He looked at you once before turning to the horizon once more, "Obviously not."

But you could sense he was lying.

"Told you he could smile, Y/n!" shouted Jesper from behind you.

You both turned around to find Jesper and Inej surrounded by the dregs and a couple of other clients too, all jostling to get a better look of the scene.

"It'll be hard for him not to, i'm afraid." joined in Inej and you bit your lip to refrain the laughter. Kaz's annoyed expression didn't help you maintaining a straight face.

"I'm not paying you to stand here doing nothing, get back inside." he ordered.

Everyone turned back inside but Jesper and Inej.

"Boss, if Y/n now gets double, just know i'm great at flirting too." stated Jesper as Kaz made his way back to the club, you in tow.

He ignored him and whacked him with his cane. Again. Jesper had now yet another lovely cane story to add to his collection.

"You'll never let him forget it, won't you?" you whispered. Jesper looked at you like a child who had just entered candy land.

"Never."

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[light-yaers]

Fools in the Darkness: Chapter Two

Darkling x Reader

Warnings: Death, violence, drugs (Parem), NSFW and sexual content. This content is explicit and 18+ at some points.

A/N: Once again I am showing off how I have zero self control when it comes to creating stable fic uploads! I simply write another chapter and then upload it immediately. I’m so sorry when this will eventually start to die down, but for now let’s enjoy the start of the story, I guess? I’m astounded at the immense love this got! Thank you all so much!

Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 4k

Chapter Two

Inej returned with three glasses of whiskey. Kaz was sat opposite you at his desk, crow-headed cane secured in one of his leather gloved hands. Inej put the glasses on the desk, before picking up and handing one to you.

“Thank you,” You said politely. Despite the few weeks you’d had to acquaint yourself with the types of people that Ketterdam housed, Inej seemed different. She was a fighter, you could see that clearly, but she also seemed... soulful. Like she had a heart, bursting to the brim with kindness and care, despite the Wraith she had to become living in a place such as the Barrel.

“So, what, the Darkling took you in?” Kaz asked, impatience all over his voice. He grabbed his glass sternly, tapping the sides with his covered fingers.

“This is only the beginning of this story,” You replied.

“Well, get to it,” He said quickly.

“I told you it was a long story, Mr. Brekker. It’ll probably take us most of the night. Can your business wait that long?” You raised a brow at him knowingly. There were men such as Kaz in the Little Palace—impatient, to the point, needing answers immediately.

“Listen, Kaz,” Inej spoke up. “I have a feeling we’ve only skimmed the tip of the iceberg,”

You regarded Inej, taking in her petite frame, the glint of the knives on her body; you counted them quickly, efficiently, until you’d added up fourteen in total. Knives for days, and you’d wager a bet that she knew how to use each one to its full advantage, as if they were an extension of her body.

Kaz breathed out shallowly, shooting Inej a stare. She accepted it gracefully, not even flinching from the obvious tension that had begun to float between them.

“Your sister,” Kaz spoke, his eyes still on Inej, until he finally turned to you once more. He nodded once, sternly and quickly, but you got the message loud and clear—I’m sorry. You swallowed uncomfortably, thankful for the small comfort the tumbler of whiskey gave you as you gripped it in your hands.

“Right, where were we?”

The Little Palace, 1 Year Ago

You woke in a bright room, unrecognisable from where you’d been before—in the snow, the ice, shrouded in a darkness that the Darkling seemed to gravitate towards himself involuntarily. You looked at your hands as they shook; dirt was under your nails, dotted with dried and muddied blood—your sister was still on your very skin.

That’s when you shot up, your heartrate exploding suddenly. She wasn’t here, her body wasn’t on the floor at your feet, nor in the bed next to you. You were trapped inside four walls of creams and golds, with décor that you’d only dreamed of ever seeing.

It was unmistakable—you were in the Little Palace, the one place you’d begged the Darkling not to take you to. He’d done it anyway, after you passed out from your extreme exhaustion.

Now you started to panic, as you looked out of the grand windows of the room. A courtyard was down below, empty of people and carriages. It was still early morning by the sun placement; the palace was quiet. The Grisha lay sleeping in their rooms, the General was in his own—

You were alone.

And saints, you weren’t going to stick around. Not with your sister’s body still lying in the Fjerdan snow, waiting for wolves to find her.

You jumped out of bed, ignoring the way your muscles were screaming at you to return to the pristine sheets. Your feet were bare, and one glance at the floor showed you your shoes had been taken. What for, you didn’t know. Maybe they thought that would be enough to prevent you running.

You almost laughed, imagining the spoilt Grisha deciding to remove your boots—She won’t run with bare feet. She won’t. Little did they know, you’d run with bare feet before. And you’d easily do it again.

You tiptoed to the bedroom door, making as little noise as possible. At the last second, before your fingers curled around the handle, you decided to drop to the floor. You lay on your stomach, shoving your skull to the floor and shutting one eye—there were two feet shaped shadows under the door.

One guard, stood on watch.

This complicated things just a tad, but you were already hatching a plan by the time you stood up again. You gave yourself a few moments to stretch your poor limbs, feeling the adrenaline course through your blood and spur you forward. Without hesitation, you curled your fingers around the handle to your room, and yanked it open—

The guard whipped his hatted head around to you immediately, but he wasn’t quick enough to get into a defensive stance. You grabbed him by the collar, pulling him aggressively into your room, before you twisted him round and placed him in a headlock.

The two of you flopped to the floor, but that allowed you to secure his body to the ground with your legs, wrapping them around his torso so he couldn’t wind his way out of your grip. That’s when you tugged—hard against his windpipe.

He struggled and flailed like a freshly caught fish, but you knew it wouldn’t be long until he passed out and went jelloid. You kept your grip on him tightly, keeping him glued to the ground and his neck secure between your chest and forearm, being pulled taut by your other arm.

Eventually, he stopped fighting. His eyes fluttered closed slowly, his body slipped into a state of sleep.

You left him on the bedroom floor then, opting not to take his uniform in case he woke up while you did, and left the room. You clicked the door shut behind you, before beginning a tiptoed journey through the winding corridors of the Little Palace.

Saints, if you had the time, I’m sure you’d have appreciated the décor. It was splendid; all bright whites and creams with accents of shining gold. There were golden curls on blank white walls, intricate designs of Grisha imprinted in the wallpaper and grandiose windows that let the light flood inside.

You felt that, perhaps, the décor made up for the fact this was effectively an army base. The Grisha brought here were trained non-stop. They couldn’t leave, they didn’t have a choice. You’d heard horror stories of this place, back when you used to be safe in Novyi Zem.

“Zowa adawe,” Your neighbour had said. She was an old woman, living a quiet life on her farm. You called her Nana.

She was stern, but often times soft spoken, with her glorious Zemeni skin and gorgeous personality. When you’d found asylum after an unfortunate incident in Kerch, you and your sister had settled in her barn; parentless. She was kind, she ran the farm and let out the barn next door.

She became a grandmother figure immediately, up until the day she died.

Zowa adawe—Grisha fight. Grisha had to fight if they were sent to the Little Palace. There was no getting out it. Nana had said that your powers were beautiful, but she’d always said it with a hint of distain on her lips, as if you were running out of time.

You turned corridor after corridor, praying that no one would see you creeping around this early in the morning. All you had to do was get outside, and then you’d be able to run—run like Hell. Not stopping to look back or even worry if General Kirigan was on your tail. You’d outrun him, even if it killed you.

When you heard voices and footsteps, you flushed yourself against the corridor wall. You didn’t know where they were coming from, or who they were, but with the rags you were wearing the mud dotted over your skin, they’d know you weren’t supposed to be wandering around.

You held your breath, praying that they’d leave, that you’d get out of this fortress unscathed; and then you started moving again. The next corner you turned welcomed you into a large landing. A spiral staircase was before you to your left, only a few metres ahead of you. You lunged quickly, ducking down as not to be seen through the large windows out to the acres of land that surrounded the palace.

“You,” You stopped, swivelling round as your eyes laid upon two Grisha—one in a purple Kefta and one in white. The lady in white had yelled, but neither got into a defensive stance as you faltered backwards, constantly creeping back to the staircase as your heart threatened to bombard out of your chest. The lady in white shot her gaze down the staircase quickly, while the man in purple next to her all but looked confused.

That’s when her gaze tracked back to you once more, her jaw clenched. “Kirigan!” She boomed. You raised your hands quickly.

“Please—just—,” You pleaded in a whisper.

“Kirigan!” She yelled once more, and as the bash of doors sounded from down the stairs, you knew he’d heard loud and clear. The smack of boots ascended the spiral staircase, until the fresh face of General Kirigan hit your own. He slowed on the stairs, overseeing the commotion, before his expression softened.

He raised his hands calmly, widening his eyes in some kind of silent language, meant just for you.

“Now, just calm down,” He said calmly. You shot your gaze from the two Grisha at the end of the corridor, back to the General, before taking in your surroundings. You were blocked in from both ways; there were no doorways on your side of the grand landing.

But, there was an empty corridor, dotted with closed doors, and at the end—

A window.

It was as if Kirigan could sense the cogs in your brain whirring. As soon as your eyes lay on the window at the end of the free corridor, he began bounding up the steps. “No!” He yelled, reaching out for the flowing fabric of your blouse, but you were already running.

You pumped your arms and moved your legs as quickly as you could, storming towards the window at full pelt. Your heart was in your throat, your limbs screaming for relief, but all you could think of was your sister—alone, cold, left in the snow in a land that had never been kind to her.

That’s when you jumped, flying with all of the momentum you’d charged up from the run up, crashing straight through the window with all of your force. You ignored the sting of shattered glass as it ripped through your clothes and skin, the pain of the wood panelling breaking apart as your body slammed through the window—

And then you were falling, falling, falling—but you never hit the ground.

You brought your hands together with your eyes clamped shut, mustering your remaining energy into creating a cushion of wind to land on. It circled beneath you, spiralling around your body and stopping your free fall comfortably, until you balled your fists and the winds dissipated.

You landed in a large courtyard outside, shaking shards of glass out of your hair as you stood. You dared to look back at the mess you’d made, staring up at the broken window—

Kirigan stood above you, gazing down at you eerily.

You thought he’d be more frantic at the fact you’d just smashed through a window and were still standing. You thought he’d be rushing to get you back inside, but he wasn’t. He was calm and collected, looking at you as if he’d already worked you out completely. And that was the scariest part of this entire ordeal.

You broke into a run, not looking back as you pumped forward. You could feel his stare on your back the entire time, but you chose to ignore it—even if it all felt too easy.

Before you could make it to the tree line, you started to wane. Your limbs felt like lead, your heart felt like a bowling ball in your chest, and all of a sudden it was far too difficult to suck air into your lungs.

You collapsed to your knees, clutching at your chest as you glanced around the clearing. Before your vision began to blur, the unmistakable colour of red hit you. Red and black, with hands dancing before them. A Grisha—a Heartrender.

You struggled against the obvious magic that he was using upon you to slow your heartrate, to stop your muscles working properly. That’s when a blob of black strolled up beside the Grisha, placing his arm upon his Heartrender.

“Enough, Ivan,” Kirigan said, but you could hardly hear him.

“Heartrender...” You stuttered out, as Kirigan began to approach you slowly. “Playing dirty,” You said, as the rest of you collapsed to the floor. The sky above you circled sickeningly, your vision seeing double. Kirigan stepped above you, his face distorted as you fought against the power of Ivan.

“You’ll soon learn that I’m not the enemy here,” He said softly, as he descended to one knee. He slipped his arms beneath you, before rising. You were cradled in his arms, to incapacitated to fight against him.

“Darkling,” You muttered. You would have added more, but even talking was too much to handle.

General Kirigan carried you back inside, as the doors of the palace were bolted shut by his Heartrender. There was nothing you could do—you were powerless, and you were stuck.  

You didn’t fall asleep, but everything felt like a dream. The walk back inside, being carried to a room that wasn’t the one you awoke in, feeling the strength of Kirigan’s arms holding you up without as much as a grunt of exertion.

Kirigan gently dropped you into a large armchair, letting your head fall back against plush leather. He straightened himself, going to sit in a chair opposite you. He picked up a small bell from the table between you, ringing it once, before putting it back down and leaning back in his own chair.

You blinked away the double vision, trying to gain back your composure.

“It’ll ease. Ivan slowed your heart into a death state,” Kirigan said calmly. You were getting annoyed at the way his voice filled the air around you, floated into your ears smoothly. You didn’t want to listen. “That was quite a show,”

You think you scoffed, or maybe you tried too, because the corners of Kirigan’s mouth upturned ever so slightly.

“I told you not to bring me here,” Your words were slurred, almost as if you were drunk. You fought against the want to drift into a sleep, but he was right—it was easing with every passing minute.

“You never told me why,” He replied. You forced yourself to look at him, as your eyes adjusted. There weren’t two of him anymore; just one man. One man who’d dragged you here against your will, leaving your sister alone on Fjerdan soil.

“You left my sister there to rot,” You said, stronger this time. “How could you think I’d stay here when you left her?” Kirigan’s expression didn’t change, but he did look around when someone entered the room, carrying a pot of tea with two cups and saucers. The tray was placed on the table silently, before the attendant left immediately, clicking the door shut.

Kirigan poured two cups of tea, pushing one set towards you and taking one for himself. He didn’t take a sip yet.

“What do you have against the Little Palace?” He asked. You couldn’t help your scowl from devouring your entire face.

“The King hoards Grisha here like he owns them, like they owe him something. It’s a prison disguised as a lavish life. It’s no worse than the whore houses in Ketterdam,” You replied bluntly.

“Yet you were trying to get to Ravka, weren’t you?” Kirigan was quick to the mark, leaving nothing unturned.

“For my sister,” You said, clenching your jaw. “She’d be safe with the First Army,”

“And you?”

You finally looked in his eyes. They were dark, piercing your very skin, but the way they reflected the light gave them the illusion of warmth. You didn’t want to ever admit that the Darkling was a warm individual, not from the stories of his bloodline that you were taught from a young age.

“I was going to lie and stay with her. My abilities have never offered me much,” You said honestly, but you didn’t know why you were being truthful with this man. You swallowed uncomfortably, telling yourself to stop being so open.

“You killed those druskelle. You protected yourself,” He said. He was right, but you felt sick to your stomach. You saved yourself, but you couldn’t save her. You didn’t. “Your power is unrefined, unpredictable, but strong. I’ve never seen a Squaller summon a storm such as what we saw from the Ravkan border. It’s what lead us to you,”

The General finally took a sip of his tea, daintily rising the cup to his lips, before setting it down slowly on the saucer. You glanced at your own cup, wanting to take a sip too, but you couldn’t make yourself reach for it; not yet.

“We train Grisha here for the King, you’re right,” He continued, when you kept your mouth clamped shut. “But we also allow them to refine their abilities and hone their craft. This is a safe place for Grisha, when there are many out there who would try and take advantage of such power,”

“I never asked for this power,” You said quickly.

“No. But you can control it,” He replied, stronger this time. He had a smile on his face, leaning slightly forward, as if he truly wanted you to know why the Little Palace was good. “Wouldn’t you feel better? If you could truly harness your power? Bend it to your exact will?”

You swallowed once, frowning as you looked in his eyes. You wanted to say that you didn’t trust him—and never would. You wanted to splash scolding tea across his treacherous face, but you did neither.

“I’d feel better if I’d buried my sister, before you gave me a life sentence,”

Kirigan stood then, turning his back to you to stand before the window behind him. His hands were together behind his back, his chin high and shoulders broad. He wore all black, but you’d expect nothing different from a man who went by the Darkling.

He thought in depth, calmly, quietly, while you debated having some of your tea. It was steaming and warm and calling out to you. You knew it wasn’t poisoned because he’d already taken a sip, but you were still wary.

“How about a proposal?” He said then, turning back to look at you. You scoffed.

“I’d rather marry a horse than you,” You let out. It was an obvious joke, but you hadn’t expected the words to spill from your lips. Kirigan raised his brows, almost boyishly, taking you by surprise.

“We have fine horses here, I’m sure we could find you a great husband,” He hit back with. Saints forbid, he’d joked back. You hated to admit it, but your shoulders relaxed then, as a small giggle burst from within your gut. He came to sit opposite you once more, taking another sip of tea.

This time, you mimicked him. You picked up your own cup, bringing it to your lips and sipping heartily. Warm tea cascaded down your throat, bringing more strength back to your muscles.

“You train here,” Kirigan began. “You train here and learn to fully control your powerful Squaller abilities, with the help of myself,” You frowned slightly as he mentioned himself, but nevertheless let him continue. “And then, when you’re ready, I’ll... let you slip out undetected,”

That’s when you choked on your tea. You placed the cup back down on the saucer messily, spilling tea on his table.

“You’d let me out?” You stuttered. “No. No fucking way would you let that happen. I know the stories, General. The stoic man, damaged by his bloodline and his image,” As you spoke, Kirigan’s jaw tensed. “You wouldn’t let a Grisha slip out of your ranks,”

He cleared his throat slightly, straightening his shoulders. “I will, if it means you’ll let me train you first,”

You furrowed your brows at him, the cogs in your brain whirring. “Why are you so interested in my abilities? I’m no Sun Summoner, General. I can’t destroy the Fold—,”

“This isn’t about the Fold,” He interrupted you. “This is about you,” He said it with such surety that it almost took your breath away. You were silent, pondering what to say from your rapidly firing thoughts. “Squallers are never as powerful as you have proven to be,” He leaned forward on the dark wood table, coming in close to you. You were too frozen in place to move, too stubborn to back away from him. “I want to see what else you can do, with the right training,”

You stood abruptly, after he’d finished talking. You ignored the disastrous way you looked, with shards of glass still in your hair and small scratches all over your bare skin. Your feet were bad; you could tell just from the way your soles felt; but you pushed through.

“This is a deal,” You said strongly. “A proper deal—a vow,”

Kirigan stood then, too, strolling round until he was face to face with you.

“I’m a man of my word,” He said plainly, before he stuck out a strong hand. You stared at his wrist, his fingers, before slipping your own hand into his. You both shook on it, cementing the deal that he’d offered. If you felt he was lying at any moment, you wouldn’t hesitate to break out of the Little Palace and slip through his fingers.

“Fine,” You said, pulling your hand from his grasp. He looked down at you with an air of knowledge, but his eyes showed you something else; a softness, excitement, sadness. It was so intense that you simply had to look away.

“Your sister,” He said then, causing you to flinch as you scowled back at him. “Men have already been sent to the border to collect her,” He said it so plainly that you were sure he was making it up, but your heart panged as he kept talking. “They’ll bring her here in two days’ time. She will have a proper burial,”

You could have cried, if your body wasn’t on fire. You would have screamed and sobbed if you weren’t stood in front of someone such as General Kirigan. In this world, crying was always a weakness. Emotions were meant to be felt in private. Pain was only to be felt behind closed doors. You wouldn’t give up that ingrained way of life so quickly, as much as you wanted to collapse on the floor when you thought of your sister.

You tried to find the words to say something in response to General Kirigan, but nothing came out. All you could muster was a curt nod, to which he reciprocated with his own.

“Rest. Eat. Drink. You have today to recuperate,” He said sternly.

“Before the Grisha here eat me alive,” You whispered. Kirigan let out the smallest huff.

“Show them your power, and they’ll leave you be,” He said, before his hand curled around your forearm tightly. You gasped at his touch, expecting it to be cold, dark, hostile—but he was just a man. He was just... a fucking man.

With eyes and a nose and a mouth. With shining hair and stubble and broad shoulders. With hips that dipped to his thighs and knees that met his calves.

It was scary, to say the least. You knew what this man was capable of. You knew what he could do, but instead he promised you freedom. He promised to train you, to bury your sister, to keep you safe here while he could.

But that didn’t mean you trusted him. That didn’t mean you weren’t wary—

If only you’d stayed this on edge, this untrusting. Maybe things would have been different.

Tag list: @callitdreamland @bxnnywxtts @elleatrixlestrange @stargirl76 @tartiflvtte @musicconversedance @eprilin @luminous-99 @brynthebulldozer @katedrexel @blackbirddaredevil23 @auggie2000 @not-so-quite-human @notawritergettingtherethough @thinkingth0ts @gabbien @tarkanelima-blog​ @astrosmayhem

I’m sorry if your tag doesn’t work-- I don’t know why they do that sometimes!

[bookishdream]

Closet

A/N: I finally did something, hope you like it! Again if you notice any mistakes, let me know! Enjoy

TW: few cursing words

kaz brekker x fem!reader

You were sitting on Kaz's lap, one of his hands was placed loosely on your waist and the second one was turning a kruge coin between his slim fingers. The brown-haired boy hadn't taken his gloves, saying he wouldn't need them. You'd looked at him with sparks of doubt in your eyes, thinking how this work could go down, just because he wouldn't take them.

"Are you sure, Kaz?" You'd asked, eying his bare hands, while he'd been dressing his coat. "This job is important, you said it yourself."

"I'm touched by your worries, y/n. However, I think you should keep this pretty nose of yours out of my business" he'd replied, passing you and opening the door behind your body. "Now, shall we?"

"You're unbearable, Brekker."

"That's what they say, love" he'd smirked.

You hadn't said a single word about his so-called business since then, the beautiful red dress was closely tugging to your body, making men and women to look twice into your direction. The cloth was long, you couldn't count how many times you stumbled because of this stupid thing. And because of your shoes. But you closed your mouth firmly, so Nina wouldn't feel bad, since she had helped you choosing the outfit.

You and Kaz were watching a guy, who apparently robbed Per Haskell, while both Inej and Jesper were close to the doors in case he wanted to escape. And to handle the other part of your plan.

Your eyes were focused on your cards, and sometimes you were lifting your vision to analyse faces of other men sited by the table. They were so sure they would win, little did they know, the croupier was from the Crow Club. You kept your face blank and unreadable. Your target had brown hair, and deep blue eyes, probably in his mid-30s. His eyes were focused on you, trying to read your expression. From time to time, Kaz's palm was tightening on your hip, you could feel the goose bumps on your arms and you were positive, the bastard could see them. He would be teasing you after because of this.

After a while, all men beside the table groaned when you won for the third time that evening, your smirk only grew wider, when you saw your target getting up and leaving the table. Your plan was working.

You simply got up, fixing your dress, Kaz after you. He stretched his hand for you to take it and you did. Leading you towards the exit, you two left the stuffy club and met the chilly night in Ketterdam. According to the plan, you should go after Inej and Jesper to check if they did what they had to, not like you didn't trust them. Kaz had to make sure everything was done.

You heard how he breathed out the air in his lungs, you took a peek at him and saw how pale he got. You wondered if he was that pale while you were playing. You looked down and noticed his shaking hands.

"For fuck's sake, Kaz." you gently took his arm, and lead him back to the Crow Club.

"I don't want to hear that." he groaned, the sweat on his forehead shone. You frowned, fastened your pace.

You huffed and didn't say another word. Seeing you were close to the club, you felt how Kaz was leaning on you, practically letting you carry him.

"No, no, no, Brekker. You're heavy, and there's no way I'm going to bring your ass upstairs," your neck was wet, and the dress wasn't the best to doing this kind of activities. "of course, you don't have your cane, when you're needing this."

He cursed at you and tried to stand steadier on his legs. You held him by his waist, his body tensed.

You entered the club, and as fast as you could went to his room. You helped him sit down on his mattress. Quickly you tried to remove his shirt, but he slapped your hands away, doing it by himself. You poured him a glass of water and handed it to the brunet.

You sat on the other side of his bed, looking at him.

"Thank you." you heard his raspy voice. "But if you say I told you so, I'm going to kick you out."

You chuckled, locking your eyes into his. “So, I can stay?"

His eyes lingered on your face for a few seconds. "Please."

"Fine, just let me change into something more comfortable." you said, getting up and heading to the door.

"You can borrow one of my shirts." his voice little, you stopped in your tracks, thinking you hallucinated.

"I still need pants, be right back. You should lay down." you exited his room and promptly went to your room, to grab a pair of black bottoms. You came back to his room and went to his closet. Kaz was lying on his bed, eyes closed and face still pale. You noticed he hadn't covered his hands. A quiet sigh came out of your mouth.

You tried to strip out of you dress, but the bodice of it was tightly tied on your back. You would kill Nina when you meet her next time.

"Kaz, can you please help me with this stupid dress?" your question came out muffled, probably because of closed door of the closet.

You heard his steps, they sounded heavily as he came closer to you, you felt his fingers untying the strings. With every second, even though the corset was getting looser, you still were feeling your breath hitched in your throat. Kaz's hands were gentle when he unclasped the last one of the buttons on your corset, you had to keep your hands on the front of the bodice, in case to don't show too much.

You turned around, meeting with boy's chest. First two buttons of his shirt where unhooked. You looked into his eyes and the fire in them was mirroring yours. You felt his hand on your chin, gently lifting it up, Kaz pulled up and you slowly leaned even closer.

You felt his lips on yours, first lightly but when you responded to him, the kiss got heated. You still held your dress close to your body, not sure if you should let it go and touch him or wait until he does the next step.

You felt his bare hands first on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You let go of your dress, placing your palms in his hair, you waited for him to tense but nothing happened. Your bodies were so close, that dress was still in its place.

"What the fuck?" you stopped kissing and both of you looked at the direction from where the voice came from. "I thought you died when you didn't show up on the bridge, I was running here!" Jesper exclaimed, his face slightly red, guns in his hands. "Only to see you are making out in the closet?!"

You laughed, taking your hands of Kaz's neck, if you had looked at him, you would've seen how he tried to stay calm. He slowly turned around, eying Jesper.

"Get out." his voice even more raspy than usual. "Or it was your last run in your life."

Jesper huffed, hiding his guns into his gun-belt. "I won a bet, by the way. Nina won't be pleased."

"Get. Out."

"Fine, fine." black skinned boy closed the door after him with a small thud. You used the time when he wasn't looking into your direction and dressed up one of his black shirts, buttoning up.

"You're unbearable" you said with a small chuckle. He turned around and look at you, looking you up and down.

"So, I heard" he smirked, doing up the last button, closest to your neck. He placed his hand on the place when he could feel your pulse. "You were running too? Your pulse is pretty high." he left, feeling of his hand still on your skin.

"Bastard."

[corpsebasil]

Easily Replaced | part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Kaz Rietveld didn't need a reason.

You knew this, of course, as you always had, but it was most clear the day you, Jordie, and Kaz stepped foot into Ketterdam. The two brothers were, as long as you’d known them, ambitious. Ketterdam would fuel that ambition.

"For you, Sankta." Jordie Rietveld laughed, and covered your eyes with his hands.

He was thirteen—much too old for you, as you were only eight, and though you were teased back in southern Kerch for hanging around with him so much Jordie was something like a brother to you. Your own parents were gone—your mother a woman who died too young and your father a mystery.

"I thought you were getting me food." Kaz scoffed, plucking the wrapped omelette out of your hands before you even had a moment to see it.

"Kaz!" You shrieked as you tore out of Jordie's grasp, lunging for the food, but Kaz simply laughed in return, looping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you along, sharing the omelette between them.

The omelette stands in Ketterdam were Kaz and your favorites.

"(Y/N), wait." Jordie called and you paused, turning to glance over at him. His expression was wide and happy—the happiest he'd been in a long time, since he and Kaz's father had died. "Welcome home." He said, and you smiled.

"WAIT!" You yelped, lurching into sitting position so fast your head spun.

He was there, you thought, still blinking away the image of Jordie from behind your eyes.

Your heart raced and your eyes stung as you stood, scanning the streets several stories below you. You’d fallen asleep on the window pane after sneaking into your room at the Slat—if Kaz wanted you gone that night, you’d be gone by morning just to spite him. If only so you had more time to snoop around.

You weren’t expecting the dreams again.

You wiped your hands over your face and sighed, blinking away the remnants of sleep and forcing Jordie to the back of your mind. Jordie Rietveld would always stay in the very back of your mind, in the dregs; you’d think about him only during your last breath, and wouldn't let yourself do it one moment before then.

You crept out of your room and glanced around its interior once more, hefting your satchel over your shoulder. You’d miss this place—you’d miss Ketterdam, but if leaving helped keep certain memories at bay and kept a certain someone from bashing your head in it was worth the risk.

Your feet were silent when you finally dropped to the streets outside and ran, taking back-ally's and fire-escapes and rooftops as you traveled across Ketterdam on a route few knew. Your mask was pulled up and your hood rippled behind you, your shape merely a black speck against the moonless sky.

When you reached the Crow Club you ducked the guards and snuck through a window at the top. If there was anything to be known about the heist for one million kruge the Dregs had been murmuring about, Kaz would know about it. And if you were anything you were vengeful, and you’d get that prize to earn your freedom or you’d die trying.

"The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf." Kaz's rock salt voice reached you and you paused, one foot sinking into the plush carpet of your old friend's office.

"Well, it's a new acquisition." Another voice purred, and your blood ran cold.

You knew that voice.

That voice had haunted you for years.

"You heard it here first." The voice continued, and you dropped into a crouch, tugging your hood over your head as you crept towards the office.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Kaz was being held on his knees by a nondescript man with a sneer on his face while Pekka, Pekka Rollins, clutched Kaz's cane like he owned it. Your stomach rolled as you took in Pekka's face and you barely stopped yourself from gagging.

It was him.

It was the man who killed Jordie.

"Now, I know you saw Dreesen," Pekka continued, oblivious to the assassin hardly ten feet away who was contemplating his inevitable death. "You got the jump on whatever job he has. I don't know the details...obviously, just that you have a little travel hazard ahead of you. So. Here's the deal: you can do nothing—walk away from it. I'll tell Dreesen I'm taking over for you." He paused, a cruel smile on his face. "Then we're even."

"Not even close—" Kaz began, and you tensed. You knew the man holding him, touching him, was causing him agony.

You had to stop it. You had decided long ago that Pekka Rollins' death would be slow. You could make it last for hours—could make blades sing until he was nothing left but a scrap on a table, but something fast might have to do.

"The other option is..." Pekka began, leaning forward to press the beak of Kaz's cane against his jugular, and you lunged. "I'll cave your head in with your own—"

"Let go of him." You snarled and, quick as an asp, had one of your many blades nestled dangerously against Pekka's throat.

Kaz let out a sharp breath and tensed as the man holding him pulled out a gun, pressing it to his temple to balance the odds.

"Sankta Riipka," Pekka mused, seemingly unaffected by the knife against his neck. "it's nice to finally make your aqu—"

"Shut up, pig." You spat and dug the blade in deeper, your eyes snapping up to the man next to Kaz. You felt steel against your head and froze—

—you’d forgotten about the other member of Pekka's trio.

"By the time you kill me," Pekka began, oozing calm that made to your blood boil, "my friend here will shoot your friend. And then you." He made to twist in his chair and you tightened your grip, stilling him. You knew you were drawing blood. "You ought to make the wise decision here, Riipka."

"Let him go." You repeated, heart pounding violently, refusing to look at Kaz even as you felt the gun against the back of your head push harder. "Let him go or I swear on all Saints I'll slit your throat right here."

The room was quiet for several beats before the man holding Kaz shoved him, knocking your friend—was he your friend?—to the floor. You made no move to remove the knife—your chest was tight and your breathing uneven. Jordie's face was flashing behind your eyes and this moment, this moment, killing Pekka, was what you had been waiting for.

You could do it.

Why couldn't you do it?

You could—

"Stop." Kaz breathed and you froze, meeting his stare. His face was serious but his eyes—they were filled with pain. "Just stop."

"You should listen to Mr. Brekker." Pekka crooned and your gritted your teeth, biting back a snarl as you removed the knife and swung, knocking the gun out of the man behind you’s hands.

     He threw his arms up and froze but Pekka simply laughed, eyeing you like you were a monkey at a circus. You felt small and, for the first time in a long time, like you were eight years old again, sweating with a burning illness and being sheltered by a widow who had no kids of her own.

     You felt like you were eight years old, managing to survive the plague and stumbling down to the docks, half-drunk with a barely broken fever and finding Kaz laying drenched in sea-water on a dock, screaming at you in agony.

It was Pekka's fault.

It was all his—

"No one has to die today, Riipka," Pekka smirked at whatever he saw in your eyes and brushed past, chuckling to his accomplices as they left the office and slammed the door behind them.

The room was silent for several moments before you turned, watching Kaz as he stared at the floor, making no move to stand.

"Let me help you—" you began, reaching out to offer a gloved hand but he jolted, deer-in-headlight-eyes flashing to yours.

"Don't touch me." He snapped, face flushing, and the knot in your throat threatened to burst.

     He pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and scrambled for his cane, one hand absently on his leg as he winced. It was terrible to watch—he was strong all the time, and so serious but this...

...this was him broken. And you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing it.

"I should've killed him," you started over, hands trembling as you resisted the urge to reach out to him. You didn't know if you wanted to help or if you just wanted, needed, his touch. "I should've—"

"You should've been gone by now." He swallowed roughly as his cane hit the floor with a thud, eyes snapping back to yours. "I had it handled. We all could've died tonight because of—"

"Don't you dare blame me for—"

"Well if you had just left when I asked—"

"I'm not leaving you!" You shrieked, yanking off your mask and hood so that you could breathe better. "You can boss me around and yell at me and treat me like Jordie was my fault all you want but—"

"I don't think that," he interrupted, his face stricken as he stared at you. "Saints, (Y/N)." You were silent for a moment, both breathing heavily, before he shook his head and turned away. "If you're not going to leave me alone, at least leave the Club. I can't—" he paused, sighing exasperatedly. "I can't deal with this tonight."

     Without waiting for a reply he strode out the door and shut it, locking it behind him so you’d have to leave out the window. You waited for several moments until you were sure he was gone, strode over to the spare couch around the corner and screamed into the pillow until your throat hurt.

@iamnoobmaster69 @emil7y @balmasedas @euphoniumpets @subjecta13-thefangirl @itisroe @thefandomplace @ambrosia-v-black @i-padfoot-things @kaitlyn2907

hiii sorry I know this one was kinda angsty but it’s gonna spice up soon HA

[plussizeappreciationfics]

Hello! May I request a fic about a black reader struggling to learn to braid her own hair, and Loki( or Bucky if you prefer), having a secret crush on her, attempts to teach himself braiding so he can help her out?

A/N: I am so sorry for the long wait hun!

Loki teaching himself to braid to help you includes:

- Him crushing on you for the longest time and admiring your beauty

-Him wanting to learn everything about your heritage and culture, even lending a few historical books from Thor and Tony

-Him then smoothly easing his way into a friendship with you, always being by your side and letting you know that you are loved and appreciated

-The two of you becoming the best of friends, but your romantic feelings for him slowly becoming too much to handle

-Loki then asking to keep you company when you're doing your hair regimen, being fascinated by the way your skilled hands move on and over your hair

-You always chuckling and jokingly expressing how you'd boo him up if he'd ever learn how to braid your hair

-The God of Mischief taking your words to heart and instantly getting to work

-First he watches YouTube videos, learning every type of style, twist curl or knot by heart

-Then purchasing the hair products you consume, before shapeshifting into a woman. Female Loki makes sure that she had long hair (like waist length) and then proceeds to carefully braid her hair

-She makes sure that you're not present when she's in her female form, too excited to surprise you with her new talent rather than you walking in on her braiding her long hair naked on the bed

-When Loki is finally getting good at it, she shape-shifts back into his male form and is ready to surprise you

-You don't think too much about it when one day Loki invites himself into your room and happily watches you dry your hair with a towel

-"May I do your hair?" he asks when you're about to reach for the moisterizer

-You raise your eyebrows in surprise and slowly nod your head, enthusiastic to see where this will lead to

-Loki then leaves you speechless while he does your hair, moisterizes all of your thick curls

-Wraps them up in cute little knots and then make sure that your headscarf is decently wrapped around your head

-He then quickly provides you with snacks while your hair gets nourished, telling you how he watched endless of YouTube videos and voicing how much he loves watching you do your hair. How much he loves you

-Him then stealing a quick kiss from your lips before pulling away, grinning mischievously before preceding to remove your hair scarf and unknots your thick curls

-He neatly applies massages castor oil onto your scalp and into your head while describing how he has fallen head over heels for you

-All you can do is enjoy the massage while feeling your stomach churn in excitement and happiness

-Loki then finally takes a think comb and separates your hair into even parts before starting to braid your hair into straight braids

-He does it quickly and smoothly and by the time he's done, you're a sniffing mess while throwing yourself in his arms

-You can barely speak while pressing tender kisses against his lips, whispering how grateful you are for him and his gifted hands

-"I'll do anything for you, [Y/N]. Anything to see you happy" he whispers before deepening the kiss

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-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

[in-my-feels-probably]

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Chapter Four

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more.

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of. 

Chapter Four

Elham had wiped most of the blood from her face, patching up what she could. She could feel the bruises already forming, one across her left eyebrow, which had a nasty gash through it, and one across her right cheekbone, as well as a cut and bruised lip, courtesy of Pekka Rollins. She was following Kaz down the stairs and across the club floor, headed to Jesper, who was seated at the bar.

Kaz was absolutely fuming. His pace was quick, even with his cane broken, and Elham, whose eye was beginning to swell a bit, struggled to keep up. They approached Jesper at the bar, who turned to look at the pair, eyes widening when he noticed Kaz's disheveled appearance.

"You alright, boss?" Kaz slung back Jesper's shot, earning a look of exasperation. He turned to complain to Elham, only to suck in a breath at Elham's appearance.

"Saints, love, are you alright?" Jesper gently held her chin in his hand, lightly turning her face towards the light to check her injuries. She pulled her face from his grasp, offering him a small smile instead, patting his arm.

"I've certainly been better, Jesper. Thank you, though."

"We've been warned off the job."

Jesper hesitated before questioning. "By who?"

Kaz turned to Jesper, a grimace on his face. "Who do you think?"

"Did he remember you?"

Kaz pulled his watch from his pocket, checking the time. "If he had, I'd be dead."

Elham flinched at that, and Kaz continued. "Sunrise is in five hours."

Jesper tugged Elham along and followed Kaz, who had headed for the floor. "Yeah, but we're off the job now, right?"

Kaz glanced at Elham, who just shook her head. "Never make decisions out of fear, Jesper. Only out of spite."

"Well, greed always worked well for me."

Kaz looked unimpressed. "Go guard the door."

Jesper sighed, and Elham gave his hand a quick squeeze, before letting him go. Once he left, Elham was left next to Kaz, who was running his gloved hand through his hair, scanning the room. He suddenly stopped scanning, before motioning to a guard at the door. "I have to handle this, go keep Jesper company."

Elham chuckled, turning to walk towards the door. "Babysitting. It's what I do best."

---

Jesper was messing around, slinging his guns around his fingers, doing everything he possibly could to annoy Elham.

"You're such an idiot."

He turned to face her smirking. "Yeah, but--"

"Jesper." Inej had appeared in front of them, making Jesper jump out of his skin, clutching his chest. Elham laughed at that.

"How do you do that?"

Inej didn't look amused. "...I need your help."

"Of course, love. Doing what?"

Inej stepped closer, a pained look on her face. Elham had stood up now, walking towards her. "I need you to kill a man for me."

Jesper laughed, scoffing. "Ugh, why me? You've got as many knives as I've got teeth."

Inej only frowned, murmuring quietly. "You know why."

"Yeah. But how is getting me to do it any different from you doing it? Besides, we've got the Valkyrie right here, I'm sure she'd be happy to."

"Inej, he's right, you don't have to do this, I can do it. Just tell me who he is, love, I'll handle it."

Before Inej could even let out a sigh of relief, Kaz called from down the alley, making them turn their heads toward him. "Jesper! New job, Elham, come with me."

Elham and Jesper turned back to Inej, but she was already gone. Elham's heart filled with dread, knowing she wouldn't be able to find and get to Inej before she had gone through with it. "Damn it, Kaz. What now?"

Kaz didn't even bat an eye. "Come along."

---

Elham paid no attention to Kaz and Jesper's conversation, something about needing a demo man. She trudged along behind them, hoping Inej was alright. She was beginning to feel naked without her sword on her, vulnerable in the streets of Ketterdam. Sure, she could fight, but nothing like how she could with her sword.

Jesper suddenly stopped, putting his hand on Kaz's arm, halting them. Kaz's eyes immediately looked down to Jesper's hand on his coat, and Elham as subtly as she could stepped in between them, separating the two. Jesper paid no mind to this, seeming to not notice. "Aren't we on Pekka's turf?"

"I go to Heleen now and ask for her buyout, she knows I need Inej and sets a price I can't pay."

"That's evil. Well, how do you know that?"

Kaz hesitated. "...It's what I would do."

Elham scoffed at that, shaking her head, muttering to herself. "Saints."

"Besides, Inej refuses to kill. Would you trust her in a matter of life and death?"

Before Jesper could even speak, Elham had stepped in front of Kaz, staring him down. "Did you really just ask that? Of course I would trust her, just as much as I would trust you!"

Kaz seemed surprised at her outburst. Jesper stepped from foot to foot, uncomfortable by the staring contest going on in front of him. "You want to tell me why we're scoping out a rival club?"

"To have a talk with an old business partner."

"The bouncers will know you on sight."

"That's why I brought you. Make sure they don't see me." Kaz turned to face Elham, referring to Jesper. "Watch them."

Jesper straightened up, getting ready. "On it, Boss."

Kaz smirked. 'I wasn't talking to you." And then he was gone.

Jesper scoffed, and Elham cracked a grin. "I am the babysitter, you know. Now get to work, try not to get us killed."

Jesper grumbled, pulling his pistol from its holster. "Yes, mother."

Elham rolled her eyes, slipping away from Jesper and to one of the nearby carts, pretending to look like one of the pigeons who'd come in from the harbour to visit the clubs.

A little while later, Kaz came down one of the back alleys in a hurry. Elham met his eyes, and saw the look of urgency. She quickly grabbed onto Jesper's coat and followed Kaz down the street, pulling him with her.

---

Elham was following Kaz still, running up the steps behind him. He had explained to her something about the Conductor, a man with a supposedly safe way to cross the Fold, and he was the man Inej was sent to kill, baited with her freedom by Tante Heleen.

They had made it to the top of the stairs, to see Inej leaned over the Conductor, a knife held in her hand, ready to strike.

Kaz motioned for Elham to get out of the way. "Don't."

Inej released the knife, sending it flying towards Kaz's head, it stuck into the board right next to his head. Elham sucked in a breath, Inej trembling. Kaz took a deep breath as well. "He's our way to Alina Starkov."

Inej grimaced, pressing her arm further into the man's neck. "Him?"

"Heleen knew it, she was using you to sabotage our mission."

Inej shook her head in disbelief. "She and I made a deal."

Kaz stepped towards Inej, Elham following. "It isn't worth more than what we get with him alive."

Inej turned to face the pair. "You'd choose him over my freedom?"

Elhams eyes began to tear, a lump forming in her throat. Kaz continued. "You assume it's one or the other."

Inej took a deep breath, turning back to the Conductor. She removed her knife from his neck, nicking at the skin, leaving a small cut. Kaz let his posture relax, moving towards the conductor.

Elham pulled Inej into her, wrapping one arm around her shoulder, the other moving to hold her hand. Kaz stepped in front of the two. "Conductor. I have a job for you. Get us to the Little Palace."

---

Not long after, Jesper and Inej were out preparing for the heist. Kaz and Elham were being let into Tante Heleen's office, who sat at her desk in fancy clothes, a cigarette lit. Elham glared, it taking everything in her not to launch the knife strapped to her thigh right into Heleen's chest. Just for good measure, Kaz stood in front of her, blocking her from view.

"I'm taking her, and when we return I'll have the buyout to clear the books. Until then, this is my collateral." Kaz had stepped forward, handing her a sealed envelope.

Heleen chuckled, taking the envelope and opening it. "What do you have that could possibly be enough?" She removed the piece of paper, revealing the deed to the Crow Club.

"The Crow Club? Well, I stand corrected."

Elham had convinced Kaz to use it as collateral earlier that night, promising him that the heist would pay off, and if it didn't work, she would do whatever it took to pay him back. Elham stepped around Kaz, who gave her a warning glance.

"Heleen...if we make it back, but without the kruge, you aren't taking the Crow Club. And you aren't keeping Inej. You're gonna take me."

Kaz's eyes filled with fear, his voice now uneasy. "Elham--"

"Don't, Kaz." She turned back to Heleen. "I'm half Suli, half Zemeni. I'll be your new lynx, or fawn, or whatever it is you decide to call me if it comes to it. I...I've got experience."

Kaz's face fell, his posture rigid. She hadn't told him that. Heleen raised an eyebrow, watching the pair.

A few months before Kaz had found her, nobody would hire her. There were no odd jobs to be found, and she was desperate. She found a little club at the edge of the Barrel near the harbour, who was taking in new girls. Elham had voluntarily signed a contract of employment, barely being paid enough to get by. But she wasn't indentured to the owner, and that was what was most important to her.

She did what she had to do. After the first month or so, it got easier. She only came in on nights where she had nowhere else she could go, and in exchange for a bed and food, and a small wage, she worked. After a few months, she had enough saved up to quit, to go look for other jobs she could scam her way into.

What Kaz also didn't know, is that the night he found her, she was working for the last little bit of kruge that could get her by. Another week or so, and she would have been right back at the club.

Elham wouldn't turn around. She wouldn't meet Kaz's gaze. Instead, she kept her eyes on Heleen. "So? Do we have a deal?"

Heleen stood. "Alright, little fawn. You've got yourself a deal. Now step aside, Mr. Brekker and I were talking."

Elham stepped back, lowering her gaze so she wouldn't have to meet Kaz's eyes. He slowly stepped forward, standing in front of Heleen, who was smirking. She held out her hand for him to shake. He slowly took it. "Inej is yours to lose now."

She peered around him, glancing at Elham, who was trying to be as stoic as she could. Heleen leaned in closer to Kaz, still talking to him, but her eyes kept glancing between him and Elham.

"It's all yours to lose."

Kaz nodded, turning around and walking out of Heleen's office, Elham following.

---

They walked back to the Crow Club in silence. Once they arrived, they made it up the stairs to Kaz's office, and Elham turned to go to her room.

"Elham?"

She turned to Kaz, keeping her gaze on the floor.

"Look at me."

She finally gave in, slowly glancing up, expecting to see disgust or disappointment. She saw none of that. Instead, it was a look of pity, which was almost worse.

"Do you need something, or can I go find Inej, get this moving quicker?"

Kaz's eyes softened, and he motioned for her to follow him into his office, a more private place. Once inside, he motioned for her to sit in her chair by the window. She did, slowly sitting, and he pulled his chair closer to her.

He sat across from her, trying to find the right thing to say. He finally settled on something.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I wouldn't have cared. I didn't look at Inej any differently when I found her, why would I look at you any different? And why, why the fuck would you do that? Offer yourself up like that to Heleen. I wouldn't have even brought you in there if I knew you were gonna do something as unbelievably stupid as that!"

Elham felt shame creeping through her, feeling uneasy in her chair, trying to sink further into it. She mumbled, her voice unsteady. "I don't know. I just knew that I couldn't let Inej go back there, not after seeing her so close to freedom tonight. And I couldn't let you potentially lose the Crow Club, not after watching you for years work to build it up. This seemed like the easiest option. If it comes to it, I can handle it."

"No."

"What?"

"No. You're not going back there. I don't care what I have to do, we're getting this kruge. We have to. I have to." Kaz was seething now leaning back in his chair, running his hands through his hair.

His broken cane was leaning against his desk, and Elham picked it up, bringing it closer to her. Kaz stilled, watching her movements now. She slowly slid it closer to him, tapping the end to the base of his ankle, like he had done so many times before to her.

His breath hitched, he was still not moving.

She offered him a small smile. "We're gonna get this kruge. Nobody's going back to Heleen. I trust you."

He gave her a small nod, his lips turning up into the ghost of a smile. "Come on, we're almost out of time. Let's go."

---

A/N - hey guys! i really hope you like this chapter, it's kinda long and it's a lot to handle, but we're so close to actually getting out of ketterdam and getting this heist moving, so i packed a lot in this chapter. i'm slowly gonna start releasing more and more about elham, so i hope you're ready for that. anyways, let me know what you think! feel free to comment or message me with anything, and check out my other work. thank you so much for the support!

[dannimatic2]

The Tapes Are Web And I’m Right: A long, rambling, semi-comprehensive list of reasons why the web controls the tapes and also jon, written as of MAG 194:

1. It's practically all but confirmed that they aren't linked to the Beholding (they appear in the Eye's blindspots like the tunnels and Upton House) and I genuinely just can’t imagine how they'd pull off the "the tapes were actually us, the audience, all along" theory in canon aside from subtext and meta implications, so that crosses the two off as mostly implausible in my mind.

2. How could Annabelle have known exactly when Martin and Jon split up so that she could snatch Martin up the next moment and take him to Hilltop Road, unless she heard the tape of their argument? How could she have known so much about them to be able to use their doubts & insecurities to manipulate them? (Are you truly in control of the choices you make? Does he even need you at all?) She's not semi-omniscient like Jonah, so where does she get all her information from? How does she know so much? 

3. There are countless hints linking the tapes back to the Web, including but not limited to:

-MAG 134: It was revealed that Martin piled the tapes on top of the coffin while Jon was still in the Buried to help him find his way out, but he didn’t know where the idea came from, and it’s very likely that the web placed the idea in his mind. 

-MAG 147: Annabelle was in possession of the Anglerfish tape, the very first statement Jon ever recorded, and placed it atop her own statement at hilltop road. I can’t think of a single reason for it to be there besides as a hint to the audience of the Web’s subtle involvement with the plot since the very beginning, and the convenient placement of the tape on top of Annabelle’s statement is just screaming that the two are somehow linked.

-MAG 157: Annabelle was the most plausible option as to who left the tape on Jon's desk that led him to try to find the panopticon & save Martin, consequently getting the Lonely mark and ending the world.

-MAG 163: At the end of the episode, a tape manifests in Martin’s bag. He asks it what it's doing there, and at that very same instant, the phone rings. It’s later revealed that it was Annabelle on the other line.

From these examples alone, I’m almost entirely convinced that the Web is behind the tapes. One thing that still doesn’t make sense, though, is the 6 month gap of time while Jon was in a coma. Why would the Web choose not to manifest any tapes during the Flesh invasion, or during Martin’s turn to the Lonely? Maybe it simply wasn’t important to the completion of the world-ending ritual: Jon was comatose, so logically the ritual couldn’t be furthered until he woke up, and the Web had no reason to spy on Melanie as she furiously stabbed a many-limbed eldritch monstrosity triple her size (although I, personally, would’ve paid to hear that go down).

But another explanation may be that Jon himself, being The Archive, is a vessel for Annabelle Cane’s master plan. If we take into account the hints littered throughout the series that the apocalypse was mainly orchestrated and carried out not by Jonah but by Annabelle—the worms being let into the archive when Jon tried to kill a spider, Oliver Banks being compelled by Annabelle to give his statement to Jon (“you know better than anyone how the spiders can get into your head. Easier to just do what she asks”), the Web compelling Martin to lure Jon out of the Buried by piling tapes on top of the coffin, etc—His entire purpose as Archivist could possibly be better attributed to the Web, not the Eye. We already know that the entities are so fundamentally connected to each other that not one single fear can be brought into the world without bringing along the rest, and many, if not all of them, overlap to some degree. And the Web’s whole thing is manipulation! If the Desolation ritual involves a messiah born in flame, and the Flesh ritual is literally just a bunch of people throwing meat into a gigantic hole, then it would make a lot of thematic sense for the Web, instead of orchestrating a ritual of its own (which we all know wouldn’t work in the first place), to succeed through the manipulation of another entity’s ritual, silently pulling the strings so that another entity, such as the Eye, is unwittingly helping the Web fulfill its plans the entire time. This theory works in the case of past archivists as well: Gertrude used the Web to bind herself to Agnes Montague in an attempt to thwart the Desolation’s ritual, not to mention that she was established to be extremely cunning and manipulative by nature, characteristics more in line with avatars of the Web than the Eye. And it was the Web that brought Jon to the institute, that led him to get marked by all fourteen fears and, ultimately, to end the world. 

This could tie the “the tapes are a manifestation of Jon's powers" and "the tapes are the Web” theories into one, explaining why the tapes didn’t manifest during the six months that Jon was comatose, while also falling in line with the evidence that the Web is in control of, or at the very least has unlimited access to the tapes. This would also explain why the tapes only started manifesting around season 2: it was the first point in the series where Jon began fully taking on his role as Archivist and became able to compel people to give him information, the first instance of such being in MAG 61. Not to mention that this ability itself could easily be an extension of both the Web and the Eye: the Eye part being that it's a way to get information from people, and the Web part being the manipulation of one’s free will to do so. Note how Jon compels Floyd Matharu in MAG 141:

ARCHIVIST

[Soothingly] You can go.

FLOYD

Erm… I, I don’t…

ARCHIVIST

Thank you Floyd. You’ve been… very helpful.

FLOYD

C—

ARCHIVIST

It’s alright, Floyd. You just… need a break.

FLOYD

Yeah… Sure.

[RINGING FOOTSTEPS DEPART]

He doesn’t ask Floyd a question. He’s not trying to get any more information out of him. He’s doing what I can only describe as mind controlling him. He plants an idea in his mind that makes him walk off in a daze. It’s unlike anything he had used his powers for before. It reminds me of MAG 59, where Ronald Sinclair made his way down to the basement of Hilltop Road, and every subsequent movement—removing the box from the table, taking out the apple, lifting it up to bite into it—was made not only against his will, but performed with the calmest expression on his face while in his mind he desperately fought against it. It reminds me of MAG 81, where the book lures Jon out of his house, walks him all the way down to Mr. Spider’s doorstep, and balls his hand into a fist to knock on the door.

His being the Archivist could also be why the Web gave Jon the lighter in the first place: maybe he’s the only one who can use it to fulfill their grand plan, whatever that may end up being in the end. Maybe he was meant to from the start.

And for my final and most damning piece of evidence, feast your eyes on THIS:

Thank you for your time.