#yes i have inflicted this on my family and friends already

[ryoshudoodles]

I've ranted about this to a friends but that is one of the parts of Ryoshu I love the most. She's such a great twist on the lone wolf edgelord type. She IS a maniac serial killer, she's also funny and she can grow closer to people given enough exposure.

And then you read hellscreen and everything she does just gets coated in a layer of tragedy.

Yes, she can get closer to people but she will scoff and respond with anger at the mention of family.

It's not just Project Moon's beloved Spider Bud, every single Ego can somehow be interpreted as part of Ryoshu's own version of hellscreen. Down to the Shrimp!

FftF is the most obvious being the base ego. It's a Lust EGO which establishes the connection to the craving for some kind of Human need, be it flesh in the form of violence and gore/ art or closeness and affection. Besides Don, she's the only one that seems somewhat at peace in the base Ego. And we now know why that was for Don.

Shrimp is a weird curveball. One of my friends says that it represents her urge to silly, which I won't deny but it also represents being taken away to a better, happier life if we go by the story of the abnormality in LobCorp. Makes sense for it to be a Gloom Ego.

We all know what spider mom means but I think red eyes closed and open have some interesting differences.

Besides being based of Spider Bud, Red eyes Closed is Lust based and inflicts bind. So, it's linked to the artistic expression and chaining someone, very reminiscent of one of Yoshihide's acts of cruelty during hellscreen.

Red Eyes open does more damage to those already bound and is an Envy Ego. I think this is the one that reflects the abnormality's motherly nature. It's only natural that Ryoshu would be envious of another monster that manages to still have her children, even if she herself doesn't admit it.

Blid Obsession is self explanatory too. Perfection. Yoshihide being the best artist in the world and looking down on the untalented, ence Pride. It's the obsession with perfection that gets Yuzuki killed.

Scorched Girl is reminiscent of Yuzuki herself. A child looking for warmth that got too close to something extremely dangerous and ended up in flames.

Contempt, Awe is the most interesting to me. To look at something with disgust/hatred and to be marvelled. It mirrors Yoshihide during the burning, first looking on in panic and then laughing madly. It mirrors Ryoshu in the story hellscreen is based on. Looking down on the worried bystanders, marvelled by the fire. Fuck it, it mirrors Horikawa himself, looking down on the suffering father and daughter and amused by their misery.

I don't know what's gonna happen in Canto 9. But if I may leave my theory here, I think we're going to see Ryoshu FINALLY realising that she does love Yuzuki, and then either having to deal with the fact that she's already gone, or have her snatched away before she can properly show affection back. Yuzuki is the butterfly and Ryoshu is a spider after all.

Also..

What the fuck is that red button mentioned in her intro?

Hey PM? What the Fuck?

Ryoshu and Grief

Ryoshu as a sinner is defined by her lust for blood, art, and the beauty that comes with both. However I think a large chunk of people realize that this is not her only trait, and this is something that has slowly been fed out across the Cantos and Egos we’ve gotten for her.

Spoilers for basically all of Limbus.

Since her reveal, we’ve had some plenty of reads that PMoon is not taking her inspiration, Hell Screen, as mere setup for an insane artist. Her constant connection with Spider-Bud and family shows that she is at the bare minimum connected to the lore of the family torn apart by lust for a perfect painting of Hell itself.

Ryoshu’s identity in relation to Hell Screen and a traditional family setup is something that honestly deserves more attention in a separate post, but it’s clear something massive happened between her family and it’s caused her a massive trauma response that triggers grief quite often...even if it doesn't seem like that.

Most of Ryoshu’s behavior is opposite to how people usually think of grieving, but it’s still a form of grieving nonetheless. She tries to repress her emotions through increasing forms of ecstasy. As someone who has depression and has gone through losses of my own, one of the possible responses you can have is to try to chase some emotion, regardless of what it is and how unhealthy it is for yourself and those around you. You’ll do anything for that warm feeling of positivity about yourself.

Regardless of this though, that sadness still exists in Ryoshu. We know this thanks to her mood during Canto 7 being rather quiet aside from the betrayal of Hugo, where she immediately decides to cut off his arms due to it being “unoriginal and played out”. Otherwise she’s being bristly towards the concept of family, but not actively aggressive or particularly violent. In fact, the one time I'd say she has a strong reaction in this Canto is to Sinclair's interpretation of her usual acronym stuff.

Ryoshu and Sinclair honestly ALSO deserve their own post because there is a lot to go into, but to put a cap on it I'll simply state that Ryoshu has a lot of emotions regarding Sinclair. It's the only thing that can rouse her aside from the art of betrayal she sees from Hugo, because the concept of family triggers her that much. There's a reason that the ONLY Ryoshu ID to have Gloom in their kit is Spider Eyes, because she's having to directly confront the very concept of family and protecting others, and it's reflected in her giving out more support than most of her other kits and in story by helping calm Yi Sang.

This sadness and desire to care exists across the Mirror Worlds as well, she just does a far better job of hiding it under her usual veneer of "insane artist only pursuing ecstasy". Edgar Family Butler is all about taking the role of caretaker of things, and she normally helps take care of her fellow butlers, only changing her attitude when they are about to be raided by the Wild Hunt and die. Even in something like her W Corp or 7 Association identities, she still has her kit showing off some support by giving out fragility for the team or even giving out barrier in W Corp.

No matter what she does, it's inescapable for her, and something she is desperately hiding away in order to keep things moving. The very same way Yosihide continued his painting, Ryoshu keeps spreading violence to hide away her grief. But it will always be there, underneath the surface, if you look closely enough.

Overall, it's a fascinating take on grief and how one can cope with it, and PMoon has always done a wonderful job on not taking the typical route with things. They did it before with Roland's grief, and it's clear that they're doing similar things with Hell Screen's adaptation. Also thanks to @lu-is-not-ok for inspiring me to write up more about one of my favorite sinners, since their posts analyzing The Red Chamber and Hong Lu fascinate me to no end. Additionally thanks to @ryoshudoodles for making beautiful art themselves and showing off the duality of Ryoshu's lust and gloom beautifully.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Going To The Chapel - Arthur Leclerc x Reader

Summary: A glimpse into life with Arthur Leclerc since your engagement. 

Warnings: Fluff. Marriage. Pregnancy. Suggestive comments

Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me . requested newlyweds/new dad arthur

F1 Masterlist

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yn_ln just posted

liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i had the most amazing weekend with my girls. thank you for planning such a relaxing time away. only one week left until i marry the love of my life  tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, bestfriend, charlotte2304

1,617 comments 

charles_leclerc i’m still disappointed that i wasn’t invited :( 

→ alexandrasaintmleux you had a bachelor party to go to, mon coeur 

→ charles_leclerc yeah but they didn’t have matching robes

→ arthur_leclerc i offered to wear matching underwear with you? 

bestfriend thank you for not saying “only one week until you marry your best friend” because i would’ve had to kill myself, and then you 

→ yn_ln oh

arthur_leclerc my beautiful girl. i cannot wait to marry you 

→ yn_ln counting down the days until i can call myself your wife 

→ user1 ugh, i need a love like these two 

alexandrasaintmleux you’re going to make the most beautiful bride 

→ yn_ln once i work off the hangover you inflicted on me

→ alexandrasaintmleux you didn’t have to keep drinking the prosecco

→ yn_ln you didn’t have to keep topping my glass up! 

→ bestfriend she was getting you drunk enough that you would agree to run away with her and not marry arthur

→ arthur_leclerc hey! 

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc a day full of tears and joy. i’m so proud of you, little brother. and beautiful yn, you have been part of this family since arthur first brought you home to us but now we can officially call you leclerc 🤍

5,516 comments

user2 love how he posted an individual pic of yn but not his brother 

→ yn_ln i’m the family favourite out of the two of us 

→ arthur_leclerc i would disagree but you are my favourite 

user3 i love how close charles would’ve had to get for that veil pic

→ alexandrasaintmleux we did have to keep dragging him away from them  

→ charles_leclerc i’m just so happy! 

francisca.cgomes the most beautiful bride 

user4 i love that photo of the two of them sat at the table together 

→ charles_leclerc thank you. i had to sneak back to get it but it was just the two of them in their own little world 

→ yn_ln i was telling him how desperate i was to get out of my dress

→ user5 and he was telling you how desperate he was to get you out of your dress?

→ arthur_leclerc yes

lorenzotl i love you both so much. welcome to the family, yn 🩷

user6 oh okay. this has reminded me of how alone i am 

user7 the cutest couple! 

yn_leclerc just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and others

yn_leclerc sand, sea and a new surname 🏖️

2,347 comments

user8 she changed her name! 

charles_leclerc did you do anything other than kiss? geez 

→ pierregasly it’s their honeymoon. i bet they did a lot more than kiss 

→ charles_leclerc ew

user9 look, we all know you spent the honeymoon shagging each other but you didn’t need to post proof

→ user10 and to think these are the photos they thought were acceptable to share liked by yn_leclerc 

arthur_leclerc my favourite place will always be beside you 

→ yn_leclerc i may not let you leave

→ oscarpiastri married arthur is a cheesy arthur 

alexandrasaintmleux i’m loving these photos! 

→ yn_leclerc maybe you should be next 

→ charles_leclerc don’t give her ideas! 

user11 oh a leclerc thirst trap was not what i was expecting 

user12 is this pr approved? 

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arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, pierregasly and others

arthur_leclerc coming soon. baby leclerc

3,549 comments

alexandrasaintmleux i’m so excited for baby leclerc to arrive. is it bad that i’ve already bought loads of clothes?

→ charlotte2304 competing for favourite aunty already, i see

→ yn_leclerc favourite aunty will be whichever one of you gets me a drink first when baby is here

user1 the charles leclerc project is happening 

→ scuderiaferrari we are already having a mini f1 car made 

user2 you’ve only been married 6 months

→ user2 oh

→ user3 honeymoon baby 

charles_leclerc i’m so glad you finally told people. the amount of baby ferrari gear i’ve had made that i have wanted to post 

charles_leclerc i am going to make the best uncle

→ lorenzotl *second best uncle

yn_leclerc i didn’t realise having a baby was going to create a leclerc civil war 

landonorris that is more of your wife than i wanted to see 

→ arthur_leclerc just say congrats, mate

oscarpiastri i guess this means our affair is over

user4 somebody enjoyed their honeymoon a little too much 

arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by logansargeant, scuderiaferrari and others

arthur_leclerc our baby girl was born late last night. she is happy and healthy, and yn is doing well

4,478 comments 

yn_leclerc i love you, mon amour. i couldn't have done this without you

→ arthur_leclerc thank you for blessing me with the most amazing family

charles_leclerc can confirm, she also smells so good

alexandrasaintmleux she’s wearing the little booties i bought! please give baby and yn a huge hug from me

→ user5 you don’t get to meet baby?

→ alexandrasaintmleux i’m not currently in monaco but visiting them will be the first thing i do when i’m back

user6 girl dad arthur incoming! 

charlotte2304 missing those baby cuddles already 

→ yn_leclerc we’re home tomorrow so please come over 

→ yn_leclerc you can cuddle baby whilst i have a wash 😂

user7 a baby girl! 

francisca.cgomes you put my giraffe in the bed with her 🥹

→ pierregasly don’t let her meet baby leclerc, please. i’ve only just gotten her a puppy 

→ yn_leclerc oh but how cute would a baby gasly be! 

→ pierregasly no!

→ arthur_leclerc nobody warns you that your wife will be broody again the second she’s had a baby

→ yn_leclerc excuse me, i think you mean no one warns you that your husband will be begging you for a second baby

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yn_leclerc just posted

liked by francisca.cgomes, carlossainz55 and others

yn_leclerc in honour of mon bébé turning 1 yesterday, please enjoy some snippets of this past year. it has been both exhausting and incredible, and i couldn't have done it without my amazing family

2,091 comments

charles_leclerc i can’t believe my niece is one already. she’s growing too fast 

→ arthur_leclerc which is why we should have a second one

→ charles_leclerc yes! that is a great idea

→ yn_ln this is why i don’t leave the two of you alone with her anymore

user8 that pic of arthur and baby leclerc sleeping?! never wanted kids before but now

→ user9 like he was cute before but now he’s a dilf?

→ yn_leclerc i can’t believe i just had to read that 

→ arthur_leclerc you called me a dilf last night?

alexandrasaintmleux being aunty alex this past year has been the best part of my adult life 

→ yn_ln you can take her for the week if you like. she’s teething so…

→ user10 haha this is so real if you’re a mum 

pierregasly who let charles wear that goofy hat 

user11 omg charles and baby leclerc though 

arthur_leclerc why have you never shown me that photo of us sleeping! she’s literally smiling in her sleep from my cuddles! mon coeur! how could you keep this from me

arthur_leclerc what other photos have you been keeping from me

arthur_leclerc i’m not helping you make a second one until you show me all the photos 

→ yn_leclerc does that mean i get a break from you?

→ arthur_leclerc now people are going to think i mount you all the time

→ charles_leclerc ew why did you word it that way liked by yn_leclerc 

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requests are open

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[seresinhangmanjake]

Fremen Girl

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fremen!reader

Summary: The potential wife of any future Baron must prove herself by surviving in the arena before the current Baron will permit the marriage. In this case, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants a wife, and he might have just found a woman capable of meeting that challenge.

Notes/Warnings: this is just the first section of this fic, which I can't decide if I want as one long fic (5k words) or multiple short parts (5 or so). If you like it, feel free to provide an opinion on that. Comments help me out and make me happy, so they're always welcome :) Also, Dune inaccuracies and typos.

Words: 900

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

The toe of a boot jams into your calf. Your knees are the first to crack on the tiled flooring of Arrakeen Palace’s throne room. You land with a grunt, followed by four more grunts as the knees of your Fremen brothers are forced down beside you.

That’s all that remains of the troop sent to attack one of the Harkonnen patrol groups. Out of twenty-one, only five. 

The five of you make a neat line in front of the empty throne with you in the middle. From left to right, one after the other reduced to half height, your heads down, arms bound behind your backs, and blood dripping from various Harkonnen-inflicted wounds. 

Your only wound is a swollen, busted lip, which you found curious until you realized their goal was to capture the remaining few of you, not kill. That swift fist to the face had caught you off guard while you were trying to aid a friend who inevitably met their death, and in that moment, you knew you were going to be made an example of; a warning to other Fremen: Be smart. Don’t end up like this girl. 

So, here you are, in a Harkonnen-occupied palace awaiting your grim fate, forced to bow to an old baron you thought was too lazy to leave his home planet of Giedi Prime, let alone bother with a handful of Fremen who made a minuscule dent in his massive army. 

But then you hear footsteps echoing as they make their way through the vast, hollow room. 

“Are these the ones?” is asked in a low, gruff voice. It’s akin to the voices of the men who brought you here, but it contains a unique richness and lacks the worn, overused quality that comes from many decades of aging. Definitely not the Baron.

“Yes, my Lord na-Baron,” one of the brutes answers from behind you, conveniently answering your unasked question as well.

“And which of them did the most damage?” 

Thick fingers dig into your hair, nails scraping your scalp as your head is yanked back. You swallow your whine from the pain and meet a set of deep blue eyes. You know those eyes—well, you know stories of those eyes. As a small child, you overheard whispers amongst the Fremen elders of the Harkonnen boy with the soulless eyes who killed his mother and maimed his family’s slaves. The promising younger nephew of the Baron: Feyd-Rautha. Barely older than yourself and yet word of his deadly glare was already jumping from planet to planet. 

But those eyes change as they look at you. There’s a quick shift from wicked to amused, a glint flitting across his irises as he scans your face. His lips tick upward—almost imperceptibly—but you catch it before it disappears. 

“Release her,” the future baron instructs. The tension from your abused strands eases as he steps forward and crouches in front of you, much too close for your liking. You want to flinch away, but Fremen do not cower to intimidation. 

“So,” he starts, peering into you, “you're the one causing me trouble, hmm?”

“She took down twelve of our men.”

His brow raises and his head tilts, but Feyd-Rautha does not break your stare. “Twelve? Is that right?”

“She bites as well, the fucking bitch,” the soldier grumbles to his leader. When you roll your eyes, said leader's lips quirk again. “Too much spirit in her if you ask me.”

All sense of amusement drains from the na-Baron’s features. Cold blue eyes flick to the soldier, and with the attention momentarily off of you, you take a breath. 

“I did not ask you,” he says in an eerily calm tone. 

You can practically hear the gulp that struggles to make its way down the other Harkonnen’s throat. “Apologies, my Lord.”

Feyd-Rautha returns his gaze to you. He examines you for a few long beats before lifting his hand and swiping his thumb through the blood beginning to cake on your split lip. 

“Don’t touch her!” comes from the left in your native tongue.

You wince. He’s one of the younger ones, just shy of your age. Well-trained enough to be a dangerous force, faster than the older Fremen at your sides, but so full of hatred for Harkonnens that his enthusiasm has him making silly mistakes, clearly not excluding shouting in a threatening tone when it would be best to remain silent. 

The butt of a Harkonnen weapon slams into the back of his head and he falls forward, landing face-first on the floor. 

The na-Baron doesn’t pay the disruption a lick of attention. His index finger meets his thumb and they swirl together in small circles until they’re thoroughly coated in your blood. Then, one at a time, he sticks them into his mouth and sucks that little bit of you off of each pale digit. 

“Lover?” he asks you, nudging his head toward your knocked-out friend. You shake your head.

Leisurely taking in your features, his eyes trace the curl of your lashes, the slope of your nose, then the V of your cupid’s bow before he says, “A woman more deadly than the men who flank her is quite rare...and impressive.” Your brows pinch at the compliment and he smirks. “I think I might have use for you, Fremen girl.”

---

A/N(just a repeat of the notes up top in case you missed it): this is just the first section of this fic, which I can't decide if I want as one long fic (5k words) or multiple short parts (5 or so). If you like it, feel free to provide an opinion on that. Comments help me out and make me happy, so they're always welcome :)

@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

To Call You Mine, Drabble #2: Trauma

Authors note: Takes place after Drabble #1, but before Ch 10

Summary: Nat has a hard day after you're called into work on your day off by Tony. And you are reminded of the hurt and pain Bruce inflicted upon your beautiful Omega.

Warnings: talk of past domestic violence/assault, ptsd

Word count: 3776

Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist TCYM Masterlist

   Natasha jolts awake to the sound of your phone ringing and not realizing that it has already awoken her, you quickly toss the covers aside and walk a fair distance away before groggily answering.

   “Hello?.....Okay…..Yeah, I can be there…..See you soon”

   You turn around with the intent to wake your mate and explain what was going on only to find her already starting to sit up with her sleep filled eyes staring at you. You sigh, regretting that your pregnant Omega was now awake so early due to your phone.

   “I’m sorry, my love” you apologize, sitting down on her nest again

   She does her best to steady her heart rate and breathing before speaking, “What- what's going on?”

   “That was Tony. Unfortunately one of the security guards that was scheduled to be in today has had a major family emergency, and I’m the only one that answered his call, so it looks like I’ll be heading into work today”

  “Oh…okay” 

  You immediately pick up on her unease, which was likely due to the fact that you hadn’t had to go into Stark Industries for a full day of work since her pregnancy. And even before that you’d never had to go in on such a short notice, which gave her time to make plans with the likes of: Yelena, Clint, Wanda or Carol.

   “Omega, are you okay?” you ask, worried she’ll be upset at your departure

   “Yes, I just…I’m not used to being alone. I’m sorry.”

   “Hey, it's ok love.” you soothe, cupping her face, “I'm sorry I have to go in, you know I’d rather be here with you. But we can video chat on my lunch break, ok?”

   “Okay, thank you Alpha”

   “Of course” you say with a nod before leaning in to kiss her temple, “Now I need to get ready. I’ll wake you to say goodbye if you fall back asleep”

   “Okay” she answers, though she knows the likelihood of that happening is low as she’ll be too anxious thinking about the possibilities of what she’ll do without you and any friends for the day

   Sure enough, when you get out of your very fast shower ten minutes later she is still wide awake and staring at the ceiling. Your heart aches at the scene, but unfortunately you don’t have the time to dwell on it as you need to get dressed. You head to the closet and get your black suit, white dress shirt and black tie out. You grab a pair of boxers and slide them on before putting the rest of your attire on.

   As you take a seat on the side of your bed to  slide on your shoes she gets up from the nest and makes her way over to sit next to you. She leans her head against your shoulder and lets out a sigh, as she's not quite ready to without your presence. You pause what you're doing and wrap an arm around her waist to hold her even closer. She takes this gesture a step farther by wrapping her arms around your neck as she buries her face against your collarbone.

   Your hold on her tightens a bit as you rub soothing circles into her back, “Do you want me to try calling anyone? That way you don’t have to be alone?”

   She shakes her head, “No, don’t wanna bother anyone. I’ll be ok, I’ll just miss you.”

   “I’ll miss you too, detka(baby)” you assure her, kissing the top of her head

   She kisses your neck in return before pulling away to kiss you properly. She smiles against your lips when she feels your hand reach down to caress her belly, and she wonders if you even realize you do that now. Maybe it’s something you do due to a subconscious protective instinct, or maybe you actively do it as a form of comfort for the both of you. Whatever the cause, she enjoys the extra bit of affection.

   “I love you” 

   “I love you too, Y/n” she responds, tightening her hold on you for a bit before finally letting go, “Drive safe”

   “I will. Try and head back to bed for a bit, okay? It's still early”

   She nods and watches you head out of the bedroom before she climbs back into her nest. She waits to hear the door that leads to the garage close before allowing herself to curl up under the covers once more. She's unsure how much rest she’ll manage to get without you beside her, but the knowledge that the sun hasn’t even begun to peak over the horizon tells her that she at least needs to try.

   At some point she had been able to drift back asleep, as she's now awoken to see the sunlight spilling through the gaps in the blinds accompanied by the gentle coos of her pup coming through the monitor.

   Gently rubbing the swell of her belly she speaks softly to her unborn pup, “We better get up, your brother must be hungry”

   She lazily stretches before getting out of her nest to head up to Dimas room. But as she starts to walk up the stairs, she becomes aware of the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbling in her chest. She feels a bit silly, because there wasn’t a reason for it. This is her home, and she was safe here, as are her pups. And she's a grown Omega, therefore she's capable of being without her Alpha for a few hours. Besides, Bruce didn’t want pups to raise them, but as a form of control so she was usually left to her own devices anyway. So what was the difference? She's used to this, she’ll be fine.

   As she enters her pups room a soft smile takes over her features and his excited noises momentarily take her mind off of her anxious thoughts. She heads over to his nest and picks him up and places a kiss on one of his chubby little cheeks as takes him over to his changing table.

   “Good morning malen'kiy(little one)” she coos as she undresses him and begins to change his diaper, “Mama had to work, so it’s just the two of us today”

   A soft little meow from the doorway reminds Nat that her statement is actually wrong, and she looks over apologetically to the kitten that is strutting into the room

   “Sorry Liho. It's the three of us”

    After changing her pups diaper and putting him in a suitable outfit, she takes him downstairs for breakfast. She doesn't plan on making anything too extravagant, just some scrambled eggs with ham chunks for Dima and an omelet for herself. 

   Normally when cooking she lets him play in the living room, in his bouncer or playpen while the tv plays one of his shows. But today, for some strange reason, she just doesn’t feel good about that. So instead she sets him up in his highchair at the table instead and sets up her phone so he can watch something while she cooks.

   After she's fed him, and herself, she heads into the living room where she settles down on the sofa. She scrolls through the guide until she finds a show to watch and then she leans back and allows her boy to suckle. Once he's gotten his fill of her milk she sets him down in his playpen with a few of his toys with the intent to let herself relax, but she just can’t seem to. 

   She feels a bit restless, and there's a nagging in the back of her mind that just keeps repeating that she needs to keep an eye on Dima. So, being one to not ignore any of her instincts, she listens. She settles down on the floor next to the pups playpen to ensure she's within arms reach should anything occur, and she allows her show to become mere background noise as she starts to play with him.

   After a while Dimas interest shifts from playing with his toys to the tv, so Nat reluctantly stands and moves back over to the couch to grab the remote. She switches the channel to some cartoons for him, not like she’d been paying attention to what she’d put on for herself anyway, and decides to try and relax a bit. She's not usually so on guard, and she's wondering if it might be something new her pregnancy hormones have brought on. She knows its normal to be more protective and possessive while with pup, but-  THUMP

   Her head immediately swivels in the direction of the sudden noise, and she's almost certain she can feel her heart beating through her ribcage. She waits a moment, straining her ears to pick up any other sounds that could be perceived as out of the norm, but she doesn’t hear anything more. She quickly grabs her phone and opens up Carol's contact before she rises to her feet and quietly makes her way in the direction she believes the noise came from.

   When she gets closer to your home office she spots the perpetrator, Liho, who is perched atop your large bookshelf. Undoubtedly it hitting the wall as she jumped up there is what caused the earlier sound. But this fact does little to calm the Omega. Her pulse is still racing as she turns to head back to the living room, and when she realizes she can no longer hear her pup from her current location, she practically sprints back.

  She pockets her phone and rushes to him, carefully picking him up to assess him. He smiles wide and excitedly kicks his feet upon seeing his Mama, and she lets out a sigh of relief. She keeps him in her arms as she sits back down on the sofa, and tries her best to become calm again. Or at least, as calm as she had been before Liho made her mind and heart race.

   He’s okay. She internally assures herself, cupping his chubby little cheek in her hand. She then moves that same hand to her bump and gently caresses it. We’re okay. She takes a deep breath in an attempt to help herself calm down and after a while it seems to have worked. True she's still on edge, but the feeling of dread is back to the level it had been earlier when she awoke.

    Despite having to take care of and entertain Dima, the next few hours had gone by incredibly slowly for your mate. She's sure this had to do with how much she missed your presence along with the anxiety that's still simmering in the back of her brain, and she finds herself wishing that you’d only had to work half a day today. Still, she's at least thankful that you’ll be able to call her on your lunch break. Which should be any second now.

   As if on queue her phone rings and the quickly mutes the tv before answering, “Hi, my love”

   “Hi detka(baby)” you greet, smiling as her face takes up your phone screen, you missed her more than you expected to. But you had a feeling she was feeling the same, “Everything going alright at home?”

   She had debated on telling you the truth of how poorly she was handling her anxiety today, but as soon as she saw your face on her screen she decided against it. She could already see you were stressed, the furrow between your brows and the tightness of the muscles in your neck showed her that much. And the last thing she wanted to do was add to that by causing you to worry about her.

   “Lihos been a bit mischievous today, but were doing good”

   “I’m glad to hear that” you admit, and Natasha watches as your shoulders relax, in turn causing her to relax a bit. “You had something for breakfast, right?”

   She nods, “Yes, of course. I made an omelet for myself while I mad Dimas eggs and ham”

   “Good. You'll be happy to know that I grabbed myself a breakfast sandwich from the corner bakery on the way into work”

   She smiles, knowing how hard it was for you to remember to eat something when you were up so early, “Did you get sausage or bacon on it?”

   “Both” you answer, causing her to chuckle, “Any plans for lunch?”

   She's about to respond, but she is cut off by a rather incessant knocking that she can only assume is coming from your office door. Your jaw tightens as you look over in the direction of your door and she can clearly tell this interruption has frustrated you.

   “One second love” you tell her, setting the phone down to go and deal with whoever it was. She can’t help but fidget while you're away, her mind busy with thoughts of how to help soothe you once you return home to her. She's so lost in these thoughts that you had to call her name a few times to regain your attention.

   “Are you sure you're alright, my Omega?” you ask, a hint of worry evident in your tone

   She swallows the lump of truth in her throat that's threatening to surface, “Yes Alpha, just got distracted checking on Dima, that's all.”

   You nod, “Well, thankfully that was just Happy with my lunch. Tony ordered me my favorite since I had to come in today”

   “That was nice of him” she says, glad that you could at least enjoy that if nothing else today

  “Mhm” you agree, unwrapping your sandwich, “What will you two be having?”

  “I haven’t decided yet” she answers. Because truthfully shed been too excited to hear from you on your break to focus on anything else lunch related

   You smile at that, causing her to look at you quizzically, “Well, good. Because I ordered the two of you something. It should be there by the time we have to hang up”

   “Y/n, you didn’t have to do that”

   You wave her off, “Nat, baby, your at home taking care of our pup while with pup. The least I could do is provide you both with a meal so you don’t have to cook. Besides, Tony offered to buy”

   She smiles at both your bosses generosity and yours, “Well thank you Alpha, and be sure to thank Tony for me too”

   “I will. Now I should go so I don’t have to inhale everything before I’m back on shift” you joke, but she can tell by the slight downturn of your lips that you didn’t truly want to go

   “Alright, I love you”

  “I love you too, Natty.” you respond, blowing her a kiss in order to see her smile again, “I’ll see you in a few hours”

   She lets out a sigh after hanging up with you. In her current headspace, a few hours was likely to feel more like an eternity. But at least she didn’t have to worry about lunch now. And true to your word, a knock sounds at the door then. She answers it and retrieves the food, setting it at the table before bringing Dima into the dining room too. She opens the bags to find its all from her favorite Italian place and that you had gotten her several different dishes to ensure that she could have a bit of everything now and still have some for later cravings. If this didn’t improve her mood she didn’t know what would.

    You sigh as you finally pull into the driveway, a bit more tired than usual due to last night's troublesome sleep and the emergency shift that you’d been called into this morning. It definitely took a toll on you that no cups of coffee had been able to fix, and you couldn’t wait to just get inside to see your pup and Omega. 

   You stretch after getting out of the car and then make your way into the house, doing your best to not trip over Liho as she excitedly circles your feet. You bend down to pet her a few times before gently shooing her further into the house. You were happy to see her, but you really wanted to see your Omega. And Dima too of course. 

   When you enter the kitchen, you see her. Her back is to you as she stands at the sink, apparently doing a few dishes while Dima sits in his bouncer that's been moved to the dining room so she can still keep an eye on him. Now that you're here with them again, you can finally feel yourself relax. Knowing they had been alone here today had your protective instincts going into overdrive at work. You’d nearly pelted the Beta that got too close to Pepper and Morgan as he walked past you all in the hallway, and they weren’t even yours

   “God I missed you” you breathe out, cutting through the peaceful silence with an innocent declaration of affection you hope will warm your mates heart

   But instead you only succeed in startling her. You watch her body jolt as she spins around to face you, sending the mug that had been in her hands spiraling down to the tile floor below. The sound of it shattering has her eyes widening even more than they had been and this was her anxieties final straw. She couldn’t upset you, she just couldn’t. You’d had such a long day full of stress and you had still managed to care for her and Dima. And here she was greeting you by causing a scene and a mess. She couldn’t bear it if you looked at her in disappointment, or worse if you verbally told her of your disdain for her actions. She had to make this right. 

   You feel immediate guilt wash over you upon realizing just how badly you must have startled her to cause such a reaction, but before you can even begin to apologize, and to your abject horror she immediately drops down to her knees in front of the debris 

   “Natasha!” 

   “I’m sorry Alpha, I’m so sorry!” she apologizes, not realizing you had been shouting because she was now picking the broken pieces up with her hands and not because she broke it in the first place, “Please don’t be mad!”

   Her pleading has your heart aching in you chest, and you try your best to approach her in a way that doesn’t further trigger her, “Omega- ”

   “Please!” she stresses, bottom lip trembling, “It was an accident, I promise it won’t happen again!”

   You kneel beside her and grab her wrists, forcing her to drop the broken pieces that are now stained with blood from fresh cuts that litter her hands. She prepares herself to be berated, but instead is met with your warm embrace as you pull her against you.

   “I didn't mean to, I'm sorry Alpha. I'm sorry”

   “Shhh, it's alright Natty. It was an accident. I'm not mad. You're not in trouble” you assure her, nuzzling into her scent gland

   “I- I’m not?”

   Her confusion pains you, and in that moment you want nothing more than to roast Bruce over a pit of hot coals, “No baby, you're not. You're not in trouble. You're safe here, remember?”

   Her brain finally begins to clear, and a guttural sob leaves her as she realizes the truth in your words. You weren’t like Bruce, and you never would be. You were Y/n, her amazingly kind Alpha.

   “I’m sorry” she whimpers, turning to bury her face against your chest “I didn’t mean to react like you were him. I know you're not. I know”

   You hold her even tighter, “It’s okay Omega. Sometimes, you can’t help these things. Certain things are going to cause this type of reaction, and though it saddens me to see you like this, I will never take it personally”

   You continue to hold her as she cries, offering her nothing but soothing touches and gentle words. Once she seems to have calmed down, you stand with her, and look over to see that despite everything Dima is still happy to be playing in his bouncer. Content with this you scoop your Omega up in your arms and carefully place her on the counter next to the sink.

  She watches as you turn on the water, letting it get warm as you find the bandages and antibacterial cream you keep out here in case of emergencies. You reach a finger in to feel the water, and content with it you take her hands in yours and help her clean the wounds. Satisfied with how they look now you apply a bit of cream to each of them before placing a bandaid over them and then you gently kiss her hands before helping her down

   “Go get comfortable in the living room baby. I’ll sweep this up and bring Dima in”

   She looks at you, guilt still evident on her features, “But- ” 

   “No buts” you tell her, leaning in to place a soft kiss against her lips, “Go on now, I’ll only be a moment”

   “Okay”

   Sure enough, it hadn’t taken you long at all and she smiled as you and her pup entered the room. You kiss his cheeks a few times before placing him down in his playpen and then you sit down next to your mate.

  “Come here” you mumble as you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into your lap

   She practically melts into your embrace as your scent surrounds her, bringing her an easy sense of comfort and security, allowing her to finally begin to truly feel at ease. You place gentle kisses against her collarbone and cheek as you hold her, 

   “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was having a hard day. I just knew you were too, and I didn’t want to make things worse for you”

   “You could never make things worse for me, Omega” you tell her, cupping her face gently, “I’m just sorry I wasn’t here today to help you through it.”

   She shakes her head, “You were when I needed you most, and you took care of me. Thank you, Alpha”

   “I’ll always take care of you, you don’t ever have to thank me for that”

   “I know I don’t have to” she admits, nuzzling against your chest, “But you deserve to know how grateful I am for everything you do. I love you, Y/n.”

   “I love you too, Natty” you reply, squeezing her affectionately before moving one of your hands to her stomach, “Everything gonna be okay”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @naslt @lattayhottay16 @yelenabelov-ed @thatonebrazilian @that-one-gay-mosquito @marvelwomen-simp @wannabe-fic-reader @tashakink @whitewidowsbite @smromanoff

[corpsebasil]

Hello!! Could I request an ethan Landry x reader fic where maybe reader puts 2&2 together after their first kiss or something and she like runs out of the dorm goes to the libary and looks up the previous ghost faces and maybe finds an old picture of ethan/richies family and she just sobs prints out the proof and rushes to warn her friends but before she gets a chance Ethan’s there and he’s just taunting her like you shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t concern you now you have to pay. And either readers escapes him and ends up killing him in the end or she dies?

Yes I can babe

My Little Liar

warning/ pretty violent; character death

He was always conveniently missing when shit went down.

You trusted him. You were sure you trusted him, but…

You’d been hurt that night, attacked as you’d been on the way home from the grocery store. Ghostface had pinned you against the wall of some disgusting alley, one hand against your mouth to muffle the keening noise that left you when he dragged his knife down your arm, leaving a long line of red from elbow to wrist.

It was a cut that would’ve ended your life in seconds had it been even a fraction deeper. But he’d made it shallow, just enough to sent pain searing down your arm, all while tilting his head at you as if in amusement.

And now Ethan, your friend, was cleaning the cut, frowning down at the bloodied skin. He’d said he was on his way to bring you back your textbook when he’d knocked, hardly ten minutes after you’d stumbled, bleeding and crying softly, into your apartment. You stared at him, eyes lingering on the curve of his nose, his curly hair, his mouth that was turned down at the corners as he began to wrap gauze around your forearm.

“At least it wasn’t deep.” Ethan commented, peering up at you.

You sat on the edge of your tub as he kneeled by your feet, your arm still in his grasp. Good lord the boy’s eyes were stunning. But he was unamused as he stared at you, his expression almost blank. You tugged your arm gently out of his grip.

“I’m surprised he didn’t kill me.” You raised your eyebrows, running your fingers across the bandage. “He had the chance.”

“Maybe he wants to drag it out.” Ethan mused, eyes still holding your own, and a chill ran across your skin.

You left out a half-hearted laugh, eyebrows knitting together as you looked at him.

“Ethan that’s not funny.” Your voice was strained as you remembered the fear and the pain that the killer had inflicted on you, on others, and you were surprised to feel a tightness in your chest.

“I’m not trying to be funny.”

“Then don’t say shit like that.” You were tearing up, standing and moving away from him. He should’ve been comforting you not suggesting Ghostface wants to take his time. Ethan rose and grabbed your hand before you could leave the bathroom, pulling you back towards him.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” He said, grasping your face in his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“No you shouldn’t have.” You sniffed, looking up at him, at his brown eyes that had softened and were peering down at you.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, as sincerely as he could, before he leaned down and kissed you.

Your heart stopped.

You’d known you liked him, but he was—

“Y/N.” Ethan whispered against your mouth, tugging you closer. You made a soft sound of pleasure as he kissed you deeper, one arm of his looping around your back.

“Wait,” you breathed, pulling away, and laughed when he chased after you, his face flushed, eyes focused on your mouth. “hold on, hold on. We need to tell the others what happened.”

“Can’t they wait?” He protested, already guiding you towards the living-room, dead set on getting you on the couch. You grinned when he sat down, pulling you onto his lap, his lips finding your neck.

“Just…for like, ten minutes max.”

“Mhmm.” He murmured against your skin.

-

That night as you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t fall asleep. You had been tossing and turning since Ethan had left, and the sting in your arm had reduced to a low throb. But something was nagging at you. Something about the way he’d looked up at you from the bathroom floor, that cold look in his eyes reminded you of—

You sat upright instantly, your breath catching. No. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.

But you were standing, pulling your shoes on and throwing open your apartment door, tearing off into the night. You made it to your university and slipped silently into the 24 hour study room, surprised to see there was no one else in the large section of the library.

So you made your way to a laptop, logging in and googling Ethan Landry. Your fingers clacked along the keyboard at a rapid clip before the data came up: nothing. You frowned, pulling out your phone, to search him on Instagram. Still nothing. It was like your friend didn’t exist online at all.

Then, breathing a bit shallowly, you searched for the other name that you had on your mind. And you scrolled. And scrolled. And then, you saw it. You squinted, leaning in, heart racing as you took in the image.

It was a man, a man who looked vaguely familiar, with his arm around—

You lurched back from the screen, staring at the trio. He was younger there, so was Richie, but it was unmistakably Ethan.

“No fucking way.” You mumbled, feeling slightly panicked, your face turning red hot when you realized you’d made out with the brother of the Ghostface who had nearly killed you. You saved the image, opening up your WhatsApp on the computer as you made to send the photo to Tara.

But then a hand grabbed the back of your shirt, yanking you away from the computer, and you screamed as your chair crashed backwards onto the floor, your head hitting the ground.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan demanded, hauling you up against him, his grip on the back of your shirt almost choking you. You thrashed but he held tight, growling into your ear as he spoke. “What were you doing, Y/N?”

“You—he’s your—” you steadied yourself on your feet, smacking at him, still trying to wrench yourself away. “You’re a liar.”

“First smart thing you’ve ever said to me, baby.” He laughed and let go, causing you to stumble forward and away from him.

You bolted towards the door, yanking on the handle, and let out a strangled sob when you found it was locked. So you turned towards the other exit, only to find Ethan blocking your path, a sinister grin on his face.

“It was so easy to get you to trust me.” He purred, taking a casual step forward. “I’ll admit though, you’re a hell of a kisser. I might’ve even slept with you if you would’ve let me.”

“You’re disgusting.” You spat, edging your way around a table. “Get the fuck away from me, E.”

“If you promise not to tell,” he offered, tilting his head as he moved forward again, inching closer. “I might let you go.”

You wept, heart racing as the swell of his betrayal washed over you, your head shaking rapidly.

“Ethan, no. You were my friend.”

“Shame.” He sighed, as if this was tiring, and then picked up the nearest laptop and threw it at you.

You shrieked as you dodged but it still managed to hit your shoulder, the slam of it causing pain to rush throughout your chest and arm. The blow caught you off guard and you hardly had time to react before he was rushing you, grabbing your waist and tossing you to the ground.

“No!” You screamed, scrambling away, and then your scream turned into a wail when he dropped on top of you, his knee digging into the top of your arm, forcing your injured forearm against the ground.

“I can make this worse, Y/N.” He threatened, and you heard the slide of the knife when he removed it from where he’d hidden it. You were crying in earnest, shaking your head as you thrashed. “Beg me, Y/N.”

“Fuck you.”

“Beg me, and I’ll stop.”

Your chest heaved; your arm was pooling blood onto the ground, the ache in it almost unbearable, and his weight was crushing you. And you really, really, didn’t want to die.

“Ethan please.” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please. Please if you ever cared about me don’t—”

He lifted his weight just enough to roll you over before straddling you again, your tear soaked face staring up at his. He looked down at you, his psychotic expression having had calmed, settling into a serene little smile that scared you more than anything. He’d pinned your arms with his knees again, though he was putting less force on your wound. The direct pressure was still agonizing, though, and silent tears ran down your cheeks as you shuddered.

“Don’t cry, baby.” He sighed, eyebrows furrowing. You stiffened, trying not to sob aloud when he lifted his knife and ran it slowly across your cheek, his eyes tracking the movement. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to cut you.” Then, as an afterthought, “again.” As if for emphasis he threw the knife away from him, out of reach. “You still haven’t promised not to tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” You lied, blinking up at him. Then you cringed when he reached down and cupped your face in his hands, eyeing you with a knowing look that made your heart stumble. It was already pounding so hard you thought it might give out.

“My little liar.” He smiled, and slid his hands down to your throat. When he dipped his head down and kissed you, a long kiss, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to tremble. “We would’ve made a good team.” He murmured against your mouth, and then his hands began to squeeze.

When you realized what he was doing you started shaking, thrashing against him, fresh tears running down your face.

“No, no, E—” But you couldn’t speak, not as his fingers crushed into your throat, pushing you down so harshly to the ground you thought your neck would break.

You were gasping for breath, your chest growing tighter and tighter, the feeling of fire wrapping around your lungs making you sob violently. There was no air—no air left in the world—not as the taste of bile seemed to fill your mouth and your skin began to tingle, all the way from the top of your head to your toes.

Your lips were soundlessly forming his name, over and over, as spots began to spark in your vision. To his credit, and your surprise, his eyebrows furrowed and he looked away, his throat bobbing as he roughly swallowed.

And when the darkness swarmed in and you felt the first twinge of cold, you held onto the image of him, the good one, the one where he hugged you tight, the one where he kissed you and you believed he cared, until you couldn’t think anymore at all.

HELLLOOOO comment and LIKKKE

this was gnarlier than what I’m used to LOL

[profound-imagination]

Tell Me Their Names - Ruhn Danaan - Part 2

A/N: Everyone thank my beloved @thatlosernoonelikes for this chapter existing, and credit to Bri for the idea! This can be continued, we’ll see how it goes.

T/W’s: Mentions of Trauma but nothing specific, mentions of shitty fathers and I think that’s!

W/C: 1.8k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Velaris was easily the most beautiful place you’d ever seen. Well, from what you could see from your bedroom window and the balconies of the House of Wind as your hosts called it. Feyre had joined you all in the journey to the house, showing each one of you to your bedrooms and playing the perfect hostess. You had eyed Ruhn anxiously, not wanting him to leave you, as she showed you a beautiful room with a huge bed and attached bathroom and continued down the hallway motioning for Ruhn to follow. Ruhn, who she kept eyeing as if trying to work out who he was, he did, after all, bear a striking resemblance to her husband, the High Lord who Feyre would glance at often as well.

They turned when Ruhn didn’t move from his spot at your doorway. Feyre raised a questioning eyebrow. “I don’t want to be rude but we stay together.” Ruhn had said, stepping towards you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “We went through a lot and I don’t want to, I can’t, let her out of my sight.” He said quietly, the High Lord, Rhysand hummed, “Trauma bonded.” You nodded, “Something like that.” Feyre smiled kindly, “Of course you can stay together, I should’ve realised you would want to!” You were quick to reassure her that she had done nothing wrong and her kindness was already far too much.

Once the door was closed and Ruhn had assured you they were gone you circled the room, the best you could on your mangled ankle. Feyre had said something about a healer and an hour but you didn’t hold much hope for your ankle being fixed. “Why do you look like him?” You asked Ruhn quietly, following him towards the bathroom where you watched him begin to draw a bath. “I-I don’t know, it’s weird.” He said, shrugging his shoulders, “But it looks like he could be your father.” You mumbled as Ruhn tensed, “He’s already done more for me than my father ever did.” He spat and turned to face you. “Can you get in or do you need my help?” He asked, his gentle tone returned. “It’s for me?” You asked quietly, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. “Yes, I figured you’d like a bath.” You sniffed, “I can’t remember the last time I had a bath.” He smiled, “Enjoy it, I’ll be right outside.”

He stepped away and headed for the door and you smiled at his back then reprimanded yourself. Whatever you felt for the Fae Prince was dangerous and you only stood to get hurt in the long run. Just as you were struggling to undress two Wraiths appeared in the bathroom. They told you they had been sent by Lady Elain to offer their help should you need it. You smiled gratefully at them and allowed them to help. Ruhn had seen the scars on your face and arms, but he hadn’t seen the damage Lidia had inflicted on your back, nor would you want him too. There was something between the two of them and it wasn’t your place to break it further than it already was.

As you sat in the warm water and allowed the wraiths to bathe you your mind wandered. You felt it when you entered Velaris. That tingle of magic that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. Hadn’t felt it since you’d been ripped from your world and ended up in Crescent City, all magic gone and human ears. It filled you with dread. You absentmindedly wondered if you’d have to come clean. You’d told Ruhn you didn’t remember your family name, that you were an orphan. A lie. You could picture them now, your parents. You missed them so much your heart ached. You’d never see them again. You could still see your mother screaming as she was held back by your uncles. Could still see your father throwing his friends off of him and thundering towards you as you winked out of that world.

You jumped as the wraiths pulled you back to reality. “Are you alright, miss?” One of them asked as she gently wiped the tear that was trailing down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed it. You nodded at her as you stood and wrapped a towel around yourself as the door banged open. “What’s wrong?” Ruhn’s teeth were bared and the wraiths startled. You pulled yourself together and gave him a watery smile. “I just can’t believe it’s really over.” You told him, another lie to add to the list. His face softened, “It’s over, Tiny.” He opened his arms and you willingly walked into them.

As predicted, the healer, Madja wasn’t convinced she could completely heal your ankle but she was willing to try. It would be done over weeks and it would involve having your ankle broken each time allowing it to heal in a slightly better position each time. Ruhn had been tense through the entire meeting. It was Ithan, the wolf that bought you a ridiculous amount of comfort, who had sat next to you and asked questions that needed to be asked. Ruhn had held your hand and had sat like a statue, his jaw locked in place as she had explained her plan.

After Madja had left, Bryce filled everyone in on what had happened while she’d been here, what help she had found. All from her perch on Hunt’s lap. Apparently, as well as the help she’d brought with her, they had additional backup arriving in a few days. Rhysand had smirked at you as Bryce mentioned their additional back up as if he knew something you didn’t. You raised an eyebrow at him but he simply shook his head.

When Bryce had finally finished her story, Rhysand took over. “You are all welcome and safe here.” He said, “Those of you who are willing and able can join us when we go back to Crescent City and take it back for the people. Those who aren’t can stay here. We will all be training every morning on the roof for those of us who want to join and master their gifts.” His eyes lingered on you for a second before flickering to Ruhn. Azriel spoke up then, “I can help you.” He said to Ruhn, “With the shadows.” Ruhn nodded, “They don’t do much, just enough so I can hide in them when I need to.” Azriel raised an eyebrow, “They can do much more than that.” His own shadows skittering around the room as if to prove his point.

Ruhn had spent the following days training with Azriel. Returning to your rooms late and exhausted. Feyre had chosen to train you, she was patient and kind and worked with you to figure out a way for you to fight with your mangled ankle. You were more than aware that Rhysand had been watching you but you had no idea why and the bigger problem you were facing was the magic thrumming in your veins getting stronger and stronger, as if it was trying to escape. You were sure your ears looked longer each day.

They had taken you to the field you’d first arrived in to train. Ruhn worked with Azriel as usual. Cassian and Nesta worked with Valkyries she commanded. As usual you were working with Feyre when Rhysand strolled over. “Let me take over for a while, Feyre Darling.” He purred at his wife. Some kind of silent conversation passed between them and she stepped away. Then Rhysand, without any warning, threw everything he had at you, darkness, his sword and he went for your mind as well. Your magic answered in response and he smiled. “Let it out.” He said into your mind. You gritted your teeth and shoved it back down. He doubled his efforts. Then something in the atmosphere changed and you watched over Rhys’ shoulder as Cassian left the others and charged at Ruhn, the same time Azriel turned on him. A look of betrayal and confusion crossed Ruhn’s face as he tried to defend himself against both assailants. You vaguely heard Feyre greet someone as your magic snapped. “NO!” You threw your hands out an ice wrapped wind ripped across the field, knocking Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian off of their feet and away from Ruhn.

You weren’t sure how long you held them there, using the wind you possessed to choke the air out of them. “Stop.” You knew that voice. “Y/N, you need to stop.” It couldn’t be, it was impossible. “Baby girl, you need to let them go.” Your vision cleared and you took in who held your face, who was standing in front of you. “Daddy?” You whimpered and your magic dropped. Rhys and his brothers gasped for air and Ruhn was there, just behind your father. “Daddy?” He questioned but you didn’t hear him, you just continued to stare at your father. “Well, she always was a daddy’s girl, I’m not surprised she has his magic.” You span and there she stood, your mother, the Queen of Terrasen. Your legs gave out and you collapsed into your father as you sobbed, your mother joining the two of you in a hug on the floor. “We found you.” Aelin sobbed into your hair.

“I’d say she’s her uncles girl rather than a daddy’s girl.” A familiar voice drawled. Your eyes shot to the person who had spoken and you choked out a sob, “Uncle Fen?” He grinned from ear to ear, “Hi kiddo.” Tears lined his eyes as well as you got to your feet and threw yourself at your favourite uncle, the reason you found so much comfort in Ithan. “What about us?” You took in the others who were in the clearing with you, your aunts and uncles, they had all come for you.

You turned to Ruhn, scanning his face. “Are you hurt?” You asked him, he ignored the question, “Your Fae?” He asked instead. “Yes, this is my mother and father, King & Queen of Terrasen, Rowan & Aelin Whitethorne Galathynius.” Ruhn gawked as his mind worked through the information you’d just given him, your parents coming to stand behind you, taking the prince in. “In a land long since burned to ash.” He mumbled to himself. “You’re a Fae Princess?” You shrugged at him, “You’re a Fae Prince, does it matter? I’m still me.” Panic began to crawl up your throat that Ruhn was going to pull away from you but despite Rowan staring him down, despite Fenrys, Lorcan and Aedion backing him up Ruhn pulled you into his chest, “Of course it doesn’t matter.”

When you pulled away, you turned to your family, “This is Ruhn Danaan, he’s Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae. He’s…” you trailed off, trying to find the words, “He’s kept me safe and alive.” You told them. Rowan took his hand and shook it, the words that came out of your fathers mouth next could’ve split worlds and started wars if the wrong people heard them, “Ruhn, the Shadowsingers son. Nephew to the High Lord of this place. Thank you for protecting our daughter.” Silence fell as all eyes turned to Azriel and Ruhn’s face drained of all colour.

[loslentesdepedrito]

I'm Your Wife- Chapter One

Top right gif by: @uuuhshiny , bottom left gif by: @userdjarin

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Word count: 4.7k+

Next Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Two

Chapter summary: You're filled with excitement as you share news with your husband, Jack. However, his reaction isn't what you were expecting. His hurtful and hateful words leave you reeling, causing you to reconsider your marriage. Luckily, friends and family are there to help you through.

Rating: 18+ no explicit content but I'd rather not have minors read these types of subjects. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut.

Warnings: ANGST, topics of death and mourning, language used by the characters is harsh and contains strong emotions, pregnancy, divorce, toxic marriage. (I hope I didn’t forget anything, it’s been years since I wrote this.)

A/N: Yes, I'm aware that this piece bears similarities to my first work (Jack Daniels and Frankie Morales) that I shared here. However, I only realized this after creating the graphic at the top. Oops! If you've grown tired of the Whiskey storyline, I have another piece with Dave York available!

"Jack?" You call out, anticipation and happiness filling your voice. Jack brings his head up and looks at you, his eyes reflecting the joy that radiates from you.

"Yes, sugar?" he responds, mirroring your smile with his own.

You can't help but let your smile grow wider. "I'm pregnant!"

But the moment the words escape your lips, Jack's smile vanishes before your eyes. Confusion swirls within you, and you can't understand his reaction. "No, you ain’t," he denies firmly.

You refuse to let his denial dampen your excitement. With a quieter voice, you insist, "Yes, I am."

Again, he denies your claim. "No. You ain’t pregnant." His Southern drawl carries a mix of shock and denial.

He’s got to be in shock, right? you wonder silently, trying to make sense of his reaction. He must be, you reason, which is why you decide to make it more tangible for him.

"I am. Look!" You declare proudly, pulling out the glossy black and white sonogram from your pocket, and presenting it to him.

But to Jack, it all feels wrong. He glances at the sonogram, your name on the top left corner, and the blurry white image representing the tiny life growing inside you. Overwhelmed by a flood of emotions, Jack shuts his eyes tightly, wishing desperately that this is all just a nightmare. Meanwhile, you remain over the moon, your gaze fixated on the sonogram, admiring the newly forming person you already love the most. I already love you more than words can describe. You’ll be loved so much, I promise. 

In an instant, a sharp sting shoots through your right fingertips, eliciting a hiss of pain from your lips. Startled, you look down and see the crumpled sonogram on the floor. It becomes clear to you that Jack's intention was simply to drop the picture, but the force behind his action accidentally inflicted pain on your fingers. As you wince from the ache, Jack's realization dawns upon him, triggered by the audible hiss of pain that escaped you. However, the physical pain in your hand pales in comparison to the overwhelming confusion and hurt that now blossoms within you.

The sharp sting brings you back to reality, and you struggle to comprehend why you felt the need to step away from your own husband. Your heartbeat quickens, mirroring the pace of your racing thoughts, as you bend down to pick up the now-bent sonogram.

Jack has never laid a hand on you before, not even in the slightest way. You take a cautious step back, ensuring a safe distance between you. Your voice quivers with a mix of concern and hurt as you ask, "What's wrong with you?"

He shakes his head frantically, before he finally speaks, "This ain’t supposed to happen."

Confusion deepens within you, and you struggle to understand his meaning. "What... what do you mean, love?"

"This ain’t supposed to happen," Jack repeats, his voice filled with desperation.

You remain silent, your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for him to offer an explanation. But his next words cut through you like a knife. "You can't be pregnant... You just can't!"

You flinch back, wounded by his outburst. The pain in his words sears through, and tears well up in your eyes. "This ain’t supposed to happen with you," he continues, his voice filled with anguish. "I... I was supposed to have a family with my wife."

His reference to his first wife, tragically taken from him years before you entered his life, shatters your heart into a million pieces. The weight of his grief and loss settles heavily upon you, mingling with your own pain. You whisper, barely audible, "I'm your wife."

The words escape your lips, your voice barely registering as a hushed murmur. But Jack's confusion echoes in his question, "What?"

"I'M YOUR WIFE!" you shout, your voice filled with hurt and frustration. "It's me! You married me!"

"I held my tongue for so long, but I can't bear it any longer," you continue, your words pouring out in a torrent of pent-up emotions. "You make me feel like the other woman like you didn't even marry me."

"You always call her your wife when I'm right next to you. And no, this isn't being dramatic or exaggerating. Did you know you've always done it? Even my own family noticed and they keep having to pull me aside to tell me about it. It wasn't just a slip of the tongue, because you always do it. That's why no one in my family likes you!"

Tears stream down your face as you pour out your heart, laying bare the insecurities and pain that have haunted you for the entirety of your marriage. "I never told you because I didn't want to seem selfish or disrespectful, but you're the one who only thinks of himself and has no respect for me.”

“¡Dios mio!" You exclaim in exasperation. "I told myself I was going crazy for feeling this way. You said it when we were dating, then when we got engaged, and foolishly, I thought you would stop once we became husband and wife. But no."

"When we were dating and talked about our future, I made it clear that I wanted to get married and eventually have children. You knew this! If you didn't want the same things, we should have parted ways, but you said you wanted it too." You say, your voice choking with emotion.

Your voice cracks with frustration and heartache as you continue, "Well, I guess you needed a big wedding to consider me your wife, huh?” You let out a bitter chuckle, the sound carrying a tinge of despair. “You couldn't even give me the wedding of my dreams. I always wanted a celebration with all of my family, and you disregarded my wishes. Fuck, I should have seen this coming! You didn't want a big wedding to overshadow your perfect one, right?" Your words are filled with bitter resentment as you yell out your frustrations.

"YES!" Jack explodes, his own emotions coming to the surface. "I didn't want to replace her memory with you! My first weddin’ was perfect, and nothin’ could have beat it. So, why should I have tried to replicate it with you? I still love her and my boy so much... I tried with you, but it just ain't right! You need to get rid of it. Y'can't keep goin' through with it. She's the love of my life, and you..."

His words slice through your heart, leaving you in pieces. You collapse into sobs, your entire being overwhelmed by the weight of his contempt of you and the anguish of his lingering love for his late wife. "Your first wedding or your first wife?" You choke out through your tears. 

"Marrying you was the worst decision I ever made." Jack's words hit you like a punch to the gut, intensifying your heartbreak.

Why the hell did he marry me then? Echoes in your head, tormenting you with unanswered questions and self-doubt.

"Then why am I still in your life?" you manage to say, your voice barely audible as you struggle to understand why he hasn't let you go if you're such a disappointment to him.

"Because you're needy and fuckin’ clingy, and you won't let g-" Jack's words are abruptly cut off by your interruption.

"Don't," You interject. "You don't have to finish that sentence." You say through the knot in your throat. "I know where I'm not wanted. Don't worry, I won't force you to stay in this so-called marriage, and I will not force you to be my child's father.”

Your voice trembles with a mixture of sadness and determination, as you gather the strength to continue. "I can't keep being the only one fighting for this relationship. The only one who wants to be in this marriage. I won't even suggest therapy. Remember the last time I asked you to go? You wouldn't fucking talk to me and kept going to her grave and god knows where else! For two weeks! Do you have any idea how I felt? I can't keep doing this. I won't compete with a ghost. Not anymore. I'm done.” After those two weeks, I don’t know how I believe we could have worked through his grief. I just.. I didn’t know he didn’t love me...

The words hang in the air, heavy with finality. You take a deep breath, mustering the strength to continue. "I'll contact my lawyer and initiate the divorce proceedings. The papers should arrive soon. I won't ask you for any financial support for my child. So, just do one last thing for me — I mean, you've never really done anything for me — but sign the papers as soon as you receive them, so I can stop being the wife you despise. I'll stay somewhere else tonight, and people will come tomorrow morning to move all my personal belongings. Anything we purchased together will be sold, and the payment will be spl- You know what? I don't have time for this. My lawyer will clarify everything." The words leave your lips with a mix of sadness and determination, the image of a shattered dream painted across your mind.

Through tear-filled eyes, you gather your strength and make a decision. It's time to take control of your own happiness, to reclaim your sense of self-worth. With a trembling voice, you declare, "I won't let myself be treated like this anymore. I deserve to be with someone who loves and cherishes me. I won't settle for anything less."

You feel drained, your heart shattered, but you know you need to leave. You put the sonogram in your purse and turn to head out, but not before you deliver a final blow. "When someone asks about your wife is, you can say her name. You already do."

Jack stands frozen, his mind filled with regret and the realization of the irreparable damage he has caused. Part of him wants to chase after you, to beg you to stay, but he remains rooted to the spot, consumed by guilt and sorrow. The room feels empty and suffocating, the shattered dreams and broken promises hanging heavily in the air.

Jack's eyes snap open to a sudden commotion reverberating through the walls of his house. His Statesman training kicks in, and he springs out of bed with the speed of lightning. The adrenaline coursing through his veins fuels his urgency to investigate the source of the disturbance. Hastily, he descends the stairs, his mind racing, and his heart pounding in his chest.

As Jack reaches the ground floor, he is met with an unexpected sight. A decent group of movers, your family, and your friends filling the space. Instantly, his gaze falls upon your cousins, aunts, uncles, and fucking Javier Peña. Jack's blood boils with a deep-seated hatred for Javier.

Javier had been your best friend during your early childhood, but with a move across the country, you never saw him again. Until, five months ago, when everything changed. You and Jack were out grocery shopping when you reached for a package of chocolate abuelita. In that split second, a large hand enveloped yours, jolting your attention towards a deep voice that called out, "Cariño?" The whirlwind of emotions Jack experienced was suffocating. He watched, consumed by jealousy, as you recognized the man before you. Witnessing the radiant expression on your face, he saw you embrace Javier and ecstatically exclaim, "Javi!" The sight of your reddened cheeks when you released him, burned a searing image into Jack's memory. Despite Jack’s language barrier, he observed how animatedly you conversed with Javier. Although he couldn't understand most of the conversation, he caught the moment when Javier mentioned that he was only in town for one day and then swiftly requested to exchange contact information. Concealing himself around the corner, Jack surreptitiously observed the scene of you giving Javier one last hug, unable to tear his eyes away.

Right after you parted ways with Javier, you excitedly recounted the encounter to Jack, oblivious to the torment it caused him. You spoke about your long-lost friend Javier, sharing every detail, and Jack listened, pretending it was all fresh information. Before the day was over, you informed Jack that Javier had called to tell you he accepted a position at the local police department and asked you to meet him so you could catch up.

The memories flood back for Jack, his resentment towards Javier intensifying. He vividly remembers the christening of one of your second cousins, a significant event, and one where your family showered Javier with adoration. It was another moment that added fuel to Jack's growing disdain for him.

Now, here he stands, witnessing Javier Peña loitering around his home, overseeing the packing of your belongings into cardboard boxes. The sight ignites an inferno within Jack, further fueling his abhorrence for the man everyone loved.

In a flurry of activity, everyone rushes about, their movements brimming with urgency. Oblivious to Jack's presence, they fail to notice him standing at the bottom of the staircase. Suddenly, your friend, colleague, and lawyer, Raul, approaches Jack, breaking through the chaos. The weight of the forthcoming conversation settles heavily upon Jack as Raul addresses him, his tone grave, "Mr. Daniels, we have some matters to discuss."

Jack tenses, fully aware of the impending storm that awaits him. Every word uttered by Raul feels like a stab wound, each syllable a reminder of the impending divorce. The word echoes relentlessly in his mind, sending shockwaves through his entire being. Jack longs for a blink, a mere blink to make all of this vanish, to have you by his side once more. Deep down, though, he knows he cannot be the father your child deserves, and he fears you'll never take him back after the hurtful words he unleashed. Helplessly, he stands there, his emotions raging, as every piece of your shared life is stripped away. Clothes, jewelry, pictures, shoes, bags, kitchenware, even the goddamn fridge magnets—every item is callously placed into clear bags and then transferred into their respective brown cardboard boxes, their labels written in bold red letters.

The pain intensifies as your favorite cousin removes your wedding pictures from the wall, carelessly flipping them upside down before removing them from their expensive frame, and then unceremoniously tossing only the pictures into a box labeled 'QUE ARDA.' Jack wonders what you plan to do with those cherished memories. He makes a mental note to translate that phrase later, his mind cluttered with thoughts and emotions.

As the relentless dismantling of memories continues, Jack withdraws into the sanctuary of your shared bedroom, seeking solace amidst the chaos. The weight of despair presses upon him, urging him to preserve a fragment of what once was. With trembling hands and a heavy heart, he surreptitiously slides one cherished wedding photograph beneath the protective shelter of his underwear drawer. It rests there, hidden from prying eyes, a bittersweet reminder of a love that now hangs by a thread. The image captures the essence of your wedding day, a moment frozen in time where love and hope intertwined. It represents a fleeting glimpse of happiness that Jack yearns to hold onto, to cherish, even if only in the confines of his solitary existence. As his eyes settle upon the drawer, a surge of emotions courses through his veins, reminding him of the role he played in their unraveling.

In the depths of his soul, Jack confronts the painful truth that he bears responsibility for their crumbling relationship. Regret claws at his conscience, its grip unyielding. The yearning to hold onto the photograph, to clutch onto the semblance of what they once had, tugs at his heartstrings. It is a bittersweet reminder of the love they had, now tainted by his own shortcomings and mistakes. To Jack, the photograph is a painful reminder of what he has lost, a reminder that this photograph, like their love, now resides hidden away in the depths of darkness. I did love her, I still do… he finally admits to himself 

But even as he acknowledges his fault, the reality of their situation remains unchanged. The impending finality of divorce looms before him, a painful reminder that holding onto faded illusions will not resurrect her love. With a heavy sigh, Jack turns away, unable to escape the weight of his actions and the consequences that now unfold.

Stepping back, Jack's eyes lock onto the figure of Javier, approaching the room with purpose. Clutching a box labeled 'ROPA,' the weight of past joys and sorrows, Javier carries an unmistakable yellow envelope securely tucked beneath his arm. The sight sends a surge of conflicted emotions coursing through Jack's veins. There, within the confines of that envelope, lies the final decree that will sever the bonds his marriage once held.

Jack wrestles with conflicting desires. He longs to keep the photograph close, to savor the image that once symbolized their dreams and aspirations. Its presence would serve as a evidence of the love they once shared. Yet, the impending finality of divorce tugs at his conscience, reminding him of the futility of holding onto a fading illusion.

His moment of introspection is abruptly interrupted by Javier stepping into the room, "We just need this room, and then we're done," Javier's voice cuts through the heavy air, each word dripping with finality. He strides past Jack with deliberate intent, their shoulders colliding in a jarring collision. It’s a calculated move, a manifestation of tensions and unspoken grievances. The impact reverberates through Jack's being, jolting him with a surge of mixed emotions that threaten to overwhelm him.

Javier's voice pierces through the silence, demanding Jack's compliance. "Oh, and sign this," he commands, holding out the document that seals their separation. Jack's heart sinks further, aching with the weight of his mistakes and the harsh reality of his actions. He realizes that his choices and his inability to fight for their love have led them to this precipice of destruction.

A whirlwind of emotions swirls within Jack as he struggles to maintain composure. He longs to retort, confront Javier, to defend himself against the accusations that echo in his mind. But the fear of breaking down, of exposing his raw vulnerability to his nemesis, forces him to swallow his words and bury his pain beneath a façade of indifference.

Suppressing his emotions, Jack forces out a strained response. "I'll go get a pen," he mutters, his voice betraying the cracks in his armor. Of course, he notices a pen casually protruding from Javier's pocket, but doesn’t acknowledge it. Jack's intentions are twofold - to avoid indebtedness to Javier and to steal a fleeting moment of solitude, where he can gather his shattered pieces and shield his vulnerability from prying eyes.

"No need," Javier replies, retrieving a black fountain pen from his crimson shirt. "Here."

Jack accepts the pen wordlessly, turning away from Javier. A wave of emotions washes over him as he approaches the smooth surface of your cherished vanity. Its polished veneer reflects the dim light in the room, casting a soft glow that dances upon the surface like distant stars in the night sky.

As he places the envelope down, he can't help but notice how out of place it looks amidst the serenity of the vanity. The contrast between the cold, impersonal paper and the warmth of the polished wood is sharp. It's a physical manifestation of the turmoil raging within Jack's heart, a stark reminder of the shattered dreams and promises that now lie in ruins.

His attention is momentarily diverted, his ears pricking up at the sound of hangers clanging against each other in the closet. Javier's intrusion into this intimate space feels like an invasion, a violation of the sanctity that once existed between you and Jack. The echoes of the hangers serve as a painful reminder of how swiftly everything has unraveled, leaving him feeling helpless and adrift in a sea of emotions.

The entrance of more voices into the room disrupts Jack's already tumultuous thoughts, shattering the fragile stillness that once enveloped the space. Amidst the chaos, a distinct sound catches his attention—an unmistakable rustling of a bag. He turns, his gaze drawn to one of your uncles holding a storage bag. Its contents hold a precious piece of your shared history, the short, simple white dress you wore on your wedding day. The bag appears relatively small, but it carries an immense weight that lodges itself as a hard lump in Jack's throat.

A rush of memories floods his mind, triggered by your words uttered just the night before: "You couldn't even give me the wedding of my dreams." The sting of truth reverberates through his being, for he knows deep down that you were right. You had shared your dream for a celebration surrounded by all your loved ones, but he had selfishly protested. It was never a matter of financial constraints, as both of you were financially stable, but rather his fear of overshadowing the memory of his first marriage. The image of your tear-streaked face flashes before his eyes, when he said he “didn’t want to make a big deal about the wedding," a haunting reminder of the pain he inflicted upon you with his own demons.

His heart aches as he realizes that you had ultimately surrendered, selflessly agreeing to a courthouse wedding to avoid further conflict. There were no grand gestures, no best man to stand beside him, and only your parents as witnesses. The weight of his own choices and the consequences of his actions press heavily upon him, like a heavy stone lodged in his chest. Regret engulfs him, his remorse magnified by the sight of your dress being packed away, a symbol of the dreams he shattered and the happiness he denied you. 

Jack sees your uncle place the storage bag in the 'QUE ARDA' box he noticed earlier, and he knows he will never see that dress again. Unable to bear the weight of these memories any longer, Jack lowers his gaze, seeking solace in the downward cast of his eyes. The room buzzes with activity as more of your possessions are packed away, each item serving as a painful reminder of the life he once shared with you. The anguish wells up within him, threatening to consume his fragile composure. He longs to shield himself from the mounting pain, to retreat into a fortress of emotional detachment, even as his heart aches with the knowledge of the devastation he has caused.

Jack knows he must face the inevitable. He doesn’t want to, but he knows he doesn’t have another choice. He didn’t love you as he should have. He wasn’t a husband to you in the truest sense. Reluctantly, he opens the envelope, gingerly withdrawing the papers contained within. The bold letters of "Decree of No Fault Divorce" sting his eyes, and tears threaten to spill onto the pages. A part of him wants to let them flow freely onto the papers, to show you just how deeply this affects him too.

His gaze traces the contents of the documents, fixating on your initials, your signatures, and the relinquishment of parental rights. He shouldn't be so close to letting out a sob at the sight of everything laid out. The pain is overwhelming, almost suffocating. He had said that he didn't want to be a father to your child, screaming those hurtful words at you. This is what he wanted, isn't it?

Thoughts whirl in his mind as he contemplates sending the papers to a lawyer, as your lawyer had suggested. But he doesn't want to prolong your agony. He senses your urgency to sever ties with him. He doesn't want to contest the division of assets, knowing that what rightfully belongs to you should remain with you. He reads a statement noting that while you're not asking for child support, he understands if the court mandates it.

With a heavy heart and trembling hand, Jack signs his name on the designated line next to your signature. By the time he surrenders his parental rights and agrees to everything else, his hands have gone numb.

Lost in his thoughts and emotions, Jack is unaware of the activity in the room until he notices your lawyer approaching him. Raul's presence jolts him back to reality.

"Very well. I will expedite these papers," Raul states, extending his hand to collect the envelope.

Jack hesitates, his grip tightening on the document, reluctant to surrender it. In fact, a surge of defiance pulses through him, urging him to tear it into countless pieces, to feed it to the pigs, and restore all your belongings to their rightful places within the sanctuary of your home. But he knows he must suppress these rebellious impulses. Reluctantly, his fingers loosen, and he extends the envelope, a mixture of sorrow and resentment coursing through his veins. The burden of the decision he made hangs heavy upon him, a haunting reminder of the choices that have led to this painful moment.

Unexpectedly, Raul reaches into the depths of his dark gray suit pocket, retrieving a small black box. Jack's heart clenches in recognition, knowing all too well the contents that lie within. 

"Here is my client's wedding band and diamond ring. She wanted to return them to you." Raul informs him.

The box becomes a symbol of shattered dreams and promises, a vessel holding the remnants of the love that once bound them together. It serves as a perfect reminder of the life they had envisioned, now irrevocably altered.

The gravity of the situation bears down upon Jack's weary shoulders as he gazes at the box, his mind flooded with a whirlwind of emotions. It is a bitter pill to swallow, suddenly acknowledging the pain he has caused and the irreversible damage inflicted upon the once-vibrant tapestry of their relationship. Regret seeps into every pore, intertwining with the threads of sorrow that bind him, leaving an indelible mark upon his soul.

Jack's fingertips tingle with a mix of trepidation and resignation, for in surrendering the envelope, he recognizes the finality of their life together.

With a heavy sigh, Jack reluctantly releases his grip on the envelope, its transfer an act of surrender and acceptance. The bittersweet taste of resignation lingers on his tongue, a poignant reminder of the love that once burned brightly but now smolders in the ashes of what could have been. The echoes of his unspoken regrets reverberate through his being as the envelope changes hands, sealing their fate.

Javier's voice pierces the silence, "Ya está todo" ("It's all done"). Without a single word directed at Jack, everyone exits the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Your family and the movers pick up the boxes and load them into a truck that will carry them away, transporting them to a place where you can begin anew, free from him.

The sound of the door closing echoes through the nearly empty room, and Jack retrieves his phone, launching the translation app. He enters the phrase "QUE ARDA," and his stomach churns as he reads the translation of what you intend to do with your wedding items and the pictures you once cherished: "LET IT BURN"

Overwhelmed by emotions, Jack collapses onto the bed in the nearly bare room, tears streaming down his face. The weight of his actions and the consequences of his words crash down upon him, suffocating him in remorse and regret. He yearns for a way to turn back time, to rectify the pain he inflicted upon you throughout the years. How did she keep up with everything I put her through? He asks himself.  But he knows it's too late. All he can do now is bear the burden of his mistakes and hope that someday, somehow, you can find it in your heart to forgive him.

In the depths of his being, Jack understands that the time for desperate gestures and sentimental hopes has passed. It is a painful admission, an acceptance that their love has slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. And as he looks at his underwear drawer, the image etched into his memory, he carries the burden of his own fault, knowing that he didn't want his wounds to fully heal, which, in turn, caused your own wounds.

Extended note: (Repeating from my previous Dave post from yesterday, because I believe there isn't much overlap between Jack and Dave fans. So I'm sharing this here as well.) As I mentioned in my initial post, I have been writing fanfiction for a long time. However, I recently decided to start sharing some of my work. English is my third language, and while I have experience writing and publishing grants, research papers, proposals, and so on, it’s nothing compared to fanfiction and erotica. Also, I have always had a team to revise my work, so this is definitely outside of my comfort zone. With this being said, I apologize for any and all mistakes because if I read this over, I’ll overthink and not post.

I don't know when the next part will be up because I like to create dividers and the image displayed at the top of the post. I'm not quite sure what to call it—Collage-like manner gifs? Banner? Oh, and I'm horrible at graphic design, so it took me an embarrassing amount of time to create the ones included here.

If you've read this far, thank you, and have a great day 🤎

Please feel free to comment and reblog! (If you would like to, of course :)

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

I'm kinda curious about your view on vil and your thoughts on the trauma he possibly or could have inflicted on Yuu during book 5.

I have this headcannon inspired by this one shot by uniquethingtastemaker

https://www.tumblr.com/uniquethingtastemaker/720073081338626048/neige-x-reader-white-beaches-and-a-spring-morning?source=share

The headcannon: Basically Yuu (who is female for this) hides the fact that she's a girl for safety reasons (I mean not only is Yuu magic less in another world, she's also in a all boy school. Yeah that doesn't scream good idea). The only who knows are the teachers, Crowley, Grim and later Ace and Deuce when she's comfortable enough to tell them. At some point before book 5, Yuu is allowed a small vacation out of NRC for the crap she had to deal with jamil in the previous book; during her vacation goes out as herself and runs into neige. They become friends and stay in touch with one another. Yuu made Neige promise not to say anything about her actually gender as a few know in NRC.

*Also have a headcannon where Yuu is a school idol like love live and secretly helps Neige and the dwarfs write a song and dance that works for them for VDC. Yuu and Neige were already writing a song together just for fun since Yuu missed being a school idol and hasn't written a song since coming to twisted wonderland 😅

Plus it's something she has a choice in and would fun doing with a friend. During book 5, Crowley literally forced Yuu's hand by threatening their plumbing and Vil just dub them the manager without asking if it was okay with them. There's also how forceful he was being. . . .

There's no rule that has she can't and she's not even in the group.

Sorry for rambling 😅

So I've written about my thoughts on Vil before and honestly he's kind of one of my - if not my most - least favourite character(s).

I've cut this up for length:

I know that he has a lot of trauma and that he's a character that lots of people can mischaracterize and hate irrationally but he just rubs me the wrong way - and I'm saying this as a former gifted child and as someone who has witnessed people go through burn out both in Primary and Secondary school. I feel sorry for him and I understand that the pressure of perfection can be an incredible burden to bear but the way he treats others is just so grating that I can't say I like him that much.

Honestly, Book 5 is my least favourite book (then it's 3 then 4) and I have so much to say for everything; the blackmail, Vil's behaviour, Vil cursing our food without telling us, having to share a dorm with Jamil when he used Yuu and endangered them for his own gain (and then Kalim for sweeping it under the rug), Vil almost making Deuce cry, the Neige hate, Vil facing absolutely no consequences for trying to murder someone and then nearly killing everyone and destroying a building.

Yes, I agree that Epel has a mindset of toxic masculinity and yes, it should be addressed and challenged. But Vil's military dictator training and forcing him to do things that he hates (and even making him hide his accent - something that connects him to the home and family he loves) is not how you do it. I don't despise feminine things like he does, but even I would hate to live up to Vil's standards every single day (especially when Vil degrades far more times than he praises).

Something I really really hate about the twst fandom is how lots of people put down Neige or make him the butt of a joke just to make Vil better. I've seen so many jokes or fanfics or imagines where Neige gets rejected or laughed at or treated terribly just so that Vil can be seen as superior and as someone who actually really likes Neige and has Snow White as their favourite princess ever since they were in reception, I just can't stand the Neige hate. Especially when he was almost a victim of a poisoning plot - as in Vil literally tried to kill him for absolutely no reason at all (before he then tried to kill us for 'seeing an ugly side of him' which we are supposed to forgive because of course we are)

I really loved that Neige story and I actually do headcanon that Neige and Yuu are really close friends and they text each other 24/7 (and also with Prince Rielle). I did make a #JusticeForYuu post where I said that I wanted Yuu to just send the entirety of NRC (minus Ace and Deuce) to coventry and not give them the time of day so I thought it would be just delicious if Neige is the one that helps Yuu with all things fashion related since he's just as famous (if not more so) than Vil with his own line of clothing and make up and would have access to things they would need.

And I think you somehow managed to read my mind because I have this Yuu that's a theatre kid (this is not relevant at all but this fem!Yuu was also Christine Daaé in her theatre's performance of Phantom of the Opera) with the voice of an angel that's best friends with Neige and the two of them totally duet together - I did kind of toy with the idea of Neige hyping her up to sing something for VDC as a closing performance and her blowing everyone away but I digress...

You know what? I am actually against the headcanon that RSA is filled with snooty, condescending, stuck up rich kids with a holier-than-thou attitude - I'm under the firm belief that the RSA students are actual sweethearts who are kind and caring and aren't the type of people who would inflict trauma on an innocent magicless teenager. The only reason why I don't want Yuu to transfer to RSA is because they'd have to leave Ace and Deuce behind (as well as the Ramshackle ghosts) and those boys are literally everything to me so I like to think that Yuu likes to go to RSA like once a week or something to spend time with people who don't try to manipulate or mistreat them.

I do have a lot more things to say but my brain has gone to mush and I can't think of anything so here

[greeniegirl23]

Isn't It.. Lovely? (Chapter 3#)

One month.

You had one month to make the biggest decision you'd ever make in your life. Part of you wondered why you didn't tell Alastor to have a field day with your Father's corpse, until you remembered that the other part of you still loved and cared for him.

He was still your Dad and once upon a time he was a very good Dad. Your parents were practically a power couple when your Mom was alive, after her death, depression fell on him like a bag of bricks. Leading him to find feeling again in glasses of wine and bottles of hard liquor.

Everyday you pondered on this, wondering if something would finally push you over the edge. If you'd snap and take revenge for yourself.

You didn't like having those thoughts. Yes, the idea of liberty made you feel elated but at the cost of the last family member you had? It was conflicting to say the least.

All that worrying came to a halt once Alastor began to solidify his place in your life.

Every night at 9pm sharp, when you were dressed for bed and your despicable abuser was asleep. Alastor used his powers to turn your radio into your own personal hotline. He was ever so happy to hear from you, happiest when he saw nor heard any traces of harm inflicted on you that day.

He soon found out that you were a curious one and a terrible over-sharer. It was obvious you never really had friends before and if you did, they left you behind long ago. You were as innocent and pure as the driven snow. Always asking questions about him, about Hell, and what it was like back when he was on Earth.

You loved when he told you more about his life. It was like he was reading you your own personal bedtime stories. Tales of speakeasies and the depression, parties that lasted from dusk to dawn, and of course, all of the completely justified crimes he committed before his demise.

As payment for his stories, you told him about your own and caught him up on modern day issues. He seemed especially interested in World War I, disappointed that he died a few years shy of when it started. You told him about your health science classes, your school, and he even became a good study buddy to help you out with your tests.

“Alright darling, last question.” He stated, a drum roll playing in the background. “If your patient performs a forward lunge, which plane of the body are they moving in?”

You chewed on the end of your pencil. “..Coronal?”

A bell dinging made you smile. “Correct! Well done darling, but I'd like for you to work on your confidence when you answer. No one wants a doctor that's unsure of what they're doing.”

“Yeah..I just get so unsure sometimes. I think I'm more scared of being wrong than being right.”

He chuckled. “Do not fret my dear! I've been doing these little pop quizzes with you long enough to know you have a sharp mind. Confidence is a tool that will solidify your place in the career you plan to pursue, so don't be afraid to utilize it more.” His voice was so kind and mentoirish. It felt like he was giving you life lessons almost every time he talked.

On one hand that made you embarrassed. Like these were things you should have already known but you didn't, but you decided to give yourself some grace. Life was different for you than everyone else, so obviously there would be some things you didn't experience to gain knowledge from.

You placed your pencil down and sat cross legged in your chair. Not being the type of person who could sit still, nor do things normally. “Is that how you become a radio host? Because you were super confident?”

There was a pause. “Well, it was something that helped. Being a professional at what I do required more than just believing in myself. Most people think it's easy, but it has its challenges. For example, I used to rehearse my script in the mirror to stop myself from unconsciously going ‘umm’ every 10-30 seconds. It also aided in preventing myself from fumbling my words.”

“That sounds like solid advice.” You smiled. “I should start keeping a journal when you're around and call it ‘Life Lessons As Taught By The Radio Demon.’”

A loud cackling broke out over the radio. “Ah, so the girl does have a sense of humor. A good one at that!” He said proudly. “And here I thought you were all doom and gloom.”

“Hey! I'll have you know staying positive at all times can be very exhausting.” You huffed, placing your hands on your hips in a pouty attitude. “It's really hard to smile when it feels like the world is against you...”

There was a stagnant silence in the air as you turned your head to gaze out the window, watching the rain drizzle from the grey sky. It was your favorite weather, even more so because of the friend it allowed you to find.

Alastor pondered over your words before he took a deep breath. “That leads to a question that I've been meaning to ask you for some time now. It's a rather sensitive one so if you'd prefer not to answer, I would understand.”

Giving the plushie your attention, Alastor's tone turned concerned as he asked. “I can’t help but wonder, Darling, where is your mother..?”

Without missing a beat, you replied. “Oh, my Dad murdered her.”

A sharp microphone screech omitted from the radio. It was safe to say he most definitely was not expecting that..

Not because he can't see your degenerate of a guardian doing something of the sort, he was actually more curious as to how someone as sloppy as your Dad could get away with something like that. No. What got him was even though you were saying words that no child should ever say until they're well into adulthood, you smiled. A soft one, filled with unspeakable pain and a lust for something you could not yet gain.

You could feel him hesitating to ask you some more questions on the topic, so you decided that you could quickly give him your life story. “Whenever anyone asks about it, I always tell them that she passed from cancer but, that's not true..”

Alastor’s signal chirped in curiosity, but he made sure to sound sympathetic. “What happened?..”

You chuckled a bitter melody.

“She was born a diabetic and I was around twelve.. Everyday my Mom took her medicine, the diabetes is actually what led her to becoming a doctor in the first place. Every morning my Dad would make her coffee, as a way of telling her he loved her. I snuck a few sips before only to find out she made it black, when she caught me she told me “Mommy can't have sugar…”

When I turned fourteen, they started arguing. A lot. I can remember hearing them sometimes. Mom threatened to leave him because he was starting to grow a gambling issue and she was tired of taking the brunt of most of the bills. He promised to change and that's when everything started to go downhill.. Weeks went by, she just started getting sicker and sicker seemingly out of nowhere. Still had her morning coffee though. I'd make it for her sometimes and she reminded me “Mommy can't have sugar.” Hardly able to do anything for herself, much less take her medicine. Of course he said he'd do it, he promised me he did when he took me to school..He still made her coffee, before he went to work and after she had been made bed bound..I thought it was a lie, that it wasn't true until I realized that she died that morning with a cup of coffee in her hand..”

A sour laugh left your lips, as you recalled that day you came home from school and found her lying there with blood on the pillow, blood that she had been coughing up for almost a month.

“That bastard was poisoning her with fucking sugar… Everyday he was putting a little bit in her morning coffee and not giving her the insulin she needed. She was a Type 1 diabetic and he did all of it for some fuckin insurance money..” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Before yanking it in frustration and punching your fist through the nearest wall, your face was blank and unmoving for a second not even flinching as you removed your bruised fist from the drywall. “Mama couldn't have sugar..”

Alastor listened as you explained your mother's demise. His distaste for your father grew more and more as he recalled memories of his own childhood. He'd never tell you to your face, but he could see parts of himself in you from his younger years, if lead in the proper manner, you could become quite the promising killer.

He shook his head. Not the best thoughts to be having right now, not while you're on the edge of a mental breakdown.

“I..Would be lying to you if I said I knew what to tell you about such an awful situation..” He stated hesitantly. “But I can say that I am sorry, that you had to deal with something like this so early in life.”

“Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be done about it…She's gone now and I have to get away from him.” You declared, looking at your now bruised hand. “Now you understand why I made that wish. On any day, at any time, for any reason, that man could decide to kill me. To kill his own daughter in cold blood..”

Alastor hummed. “If you know this, then let me help you." He demanded. "I cannot sit idly by forever my dear, these links to your world are only good for short times to prevent other demons from causing other problems. No one understands the severity of this situation more than you. I would love to help you exact revenge on that putrid sack of skin but you must choose before it is too late and I am no longer around..

You sat in silence as Alastor did his best to help you come to a decision. As much as you hated being rushed, you couldn't deny that he was correct. But the decision was hard, harder than you thought it would be considering the fact that you still loved your father and the man he used to be…

All these thoughts ran through your head on a daily basis, everytime they made you wanna curl up and cry. Snatching up the plush doll, you gave it a good squeeze and hid your face in your knees, wishing that your Mom was still around.

The Radio Demon pursed his lips in thought, he wasn't good with others emotions unless he could feed off of the entertainment from it, much less comforting them. There was nothing entertaining about this, about you being sad. He didn't like it for a reason he couldn't explain, perhaps because you were so bubbly in the beginning?

You weren't trying to do anything miraculous, you just wanted to live your life in peace and possibly get justice for your mother. That was something he could understand. He wouldn't mind completely decimating your Dad, truly he wouldn't! It'd be on the house for you, truly you're the most pitiful soul he's come across in a long while.

He supposed he could pull a few quick strings to make you feel better in the moment. To bring back that smile of yours, full of wonder and a desire for life.

As you continued to seek shelter in your knees, you felt a gentle touch caress the top of your head, sharp claws softly scraping your scalp in an attempt to comfort you.

Wait..

WHAT?!

Quickly yet carefully, you snapped your head up to see none other than The Radio Demon crouched down right in front of you. His hand still rested on the crown of the head as you both stared at each other for a moment.

“I'm sorry.. am I dreaming?” You blurted out.

Alastor smiled, laughing in a low tone at your completely gobsmacked expression. “Fortunately for you, the answer is no my dear. As a gentleman, it'd be rude of me not to at least attempt to help a lady in emotional distress.”

You were still dazed and confused about him being here, much less t o u c h i n g you!! “Ida..I-- I didn't know you could-”

“Travel through the radio? It is quite possible but I only do so on rare occasions since it requires a fair bit of my power that cannot be overexerted in one day.”

Standing up to his full height, you realized how tall he was and thanked God that the ceiling was high enough for his antlers not to scrape. Crawling out of your chair, you immediately felt like an ant compared to him, the top of your head barely came to his collarbone.

“Holy crap you're tall." You blurted again. "I mean, I knew that you were tall but, you're really, really tall..”

Smirking with pride, he twirled his cane expertly like the show off you knew and loved. “7”0 exactly my dear, a foot taller than I was when I was a mortal! Though I suppose that was the universes funny way of punishing me for my crimes, I've bumped my forehead on door frames a good 50 times in both life and death!”

As you examined his real life appearance, you couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah well, the heels don't help.” You pointed to his shoes.

He huffed in feigned offense. “They are not heels, darling they are tap dancing shoes and it was quite common for them to have a bit of height back in my day.”

“Okay, Fred Astare.” You snorted as he settled himself on the side of your bed as you marveled at the fact that he was still taller than you even while sitting down. “And here I was preparing to offer you a dance in hopes of lifting your spirits, only for you to insult my tastes in fashion.” He hmphed, crossing his arms and legs while sticking up his pointy nose towards you.

In a daring moment, you sat right next to him crissed crossed, careful not to to touch him while he continued to play offended. “C’mon Al, don't be so huffy. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“ ‘Al’ huh?” He hummed. “Sounds like someone is getting rather familiar.”

“Hey, you call me 'Darling' and 'Dear' so often I think that it's only fair that I call you 'Al' on occasions.”

“I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, I came here to try and boost your spirits, you seem to be doing better so if you wish to be bratty I can just go back home..” He teased with an evil grin.

“Wait!” You said just a bit too loudly. “Would you like to play a game with me? Ya know, before you go..”

Alastor raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he parted his lips to deny your offer, until you pulled out the big guns and gave him your best puppy girl eyes. A chill went down his spine from your usage of such cheap tactics, remembering his years as a lad and doing the exact same thing when he wanted something desperately from his dear mother.

“Okay! Okay!” He said, placing his hands up in surrender. “I shall subject myself to whatever game this is for one round, as long as you stop making that revolting expression..”

He watched as you smiled with pure enthusiasm. Such a beautiful smile you had, it made him irritated that you didn't do it more, yet proud that he typically was the source of it sprouting in the first place. Crimson eyes followed your movements as you shuffled off the bed to grab a small deck of cards off of your shelf. A part of him hoped you heard the chuckle that left his lips while you struggled to stand on your toes to retrieve this game.

“It's called ‘Uno’ “ You explained, walking back to him with a red box in hand. “It's a pretty simple game and the rules are easy.” Dumping the cards out of the box, the two of you sat parallel with one another.

”However, this simple game has been known to end more friendships than Monopoly and Mario Kart put together. It shall truly test our bond as companions, only the strongest survive it's trials..” You spoke in a dramatic tone while shuffling the cards and placing the proper numbers out for the both of you. Once you were finished, you placed the extra cards in the middle and looked the Radio Demon square in the eye. “Are you ready?”

“Yes yes,” He replied aloofly. “There isn't any possible way this silly game could cause such a staggering amount of broken relationships. I refuse to believe it's that bad.’

You chuckled bitterly. “You beautiful unsuspecting fool.”

---------------------- ( 2 Hours Later) ---------------------

“That's against the rules!” Alastor hissed underneath his breath as you threw out a fat stack of +2 cards.

“No it's not Alastor, you said you wanted to play stacks and this is how it's played.” You muttered.

The first round between you two consisted of showing Alastor the ropes. The confident man he was, he assured you that the game was easy enough for an infant to play and win effortlessly, especially since he won the first round. You then decide to spice things up by teaching him how to play stacks. He claimed that was easy as well and you allowed him to believe this as the next round consisted of him losing, and so did the next round, and the round after that, and the round after that…

Before you knew it, two hours had gone by and Alastor was determined to beat you at least once. It had gotten so intense that he resorted to taking his tail coat off and even putting his hair up, leaving him in his tight red office shirt and hair that framed his face like the scrumdiddlyumptious being that he was. The sight of his bare arms totally didn't have you blushing up a storm behind your cards.

While he was stewing over his next move, you got to confirm a few fan theories and ogled at his appearance.

Respectfully, of course.

But, the game wasn't over yet. Alastor sat across from you, irritated and with at least eleven cards in his hand, while you had three. The air was tense as he scratched his head and finally decided to throw out a small handful of 8’s, bringing his card count down to five.

Your poker face remained unmoving as you calmly threw out a wild card. “Blue.”

A warble of interference omitted from Alastor's person as his eyes scanned his cards carefully. You were actually surprised at how the tables had turned personality wise. In the beginning, it was Alastor who was calm and collected, but every loss slowly chipped away at the pride that fueled his unwavering persona. His usual smile was now looking more forced, making his disdain obvious.

Throwing out a blue card, you threw out two on top, leaving you with one card as you stated that dreadful word. “Uno.”

With a growl, Alastor tossed out a draw +4. “Red.” He stated blandly. A quick glance at the clock let him know he was late for a meeting with Charlie, but formalities be damned because he was going to win this game.

You took your cards quickly and deemed your hand an amazing one. He replied by tossing out a 2 and leaving three cards left. Victory was close and he swore that once he won he would ‘kindly’ rub it in your face.

But, just as you had been doing for these past five rounds, you had an ace up your sleeve. You tossed out the red ‘Skip’ card, costing Alastor a vital turn that could have turned the tables, only to metaphorically slap him in the face by cheering “Uno!” and dropping your final cards in the middle of the messy deck.

He suppressed a scream of irritation as you did your little victory dance, glaring at you both with gaiety and pure spite. He stood up and snapped his coat back on and his hair back down, he pinched your cheek just a little too hard. “That's enough cutting a rug darling, especially for someone that has two left feet such as yourself.”

“Stop trying to cease my dancing, I must wiggle out my joy.”

With a roll of his eyes, he tuned the radio on to his station to prepare to go back home. “Well you can dance until your heart's content, unfortunately I have to return back home to handle some business.”

Immediately your uncoordinated movements stopped, as you frowned. “Oh, right..”

Part of him felt bad. Not that he would tell you outright, but he didn't exactly want to leave you behind either. The thoughts of what your father could do unannounced made him concerned for your safety, but there wasn't anything he could do. Instead, he smiled genuinely and lifted your gaze up with his finger.

“Chin up, dearest. I shall check on you tomorrow as always and don't forget, you still need to make up your mind about what you want from the options presented to you.”

You didn't reply verbally, but you did nod your head sadly which would have to be enough for now. As he prepared to walk off, he was suddenly stopped by a tight embrace from behind. Anyone else who would have ever dared to think of such a thing would have been a splatter on the wall and he was just about to give you a kind yet serious talk about personal space until he felt something wet soaking through his clothes.

“..Thank you.” You mumbled through the fabric. Inhaling his scent as you sniffled and tried to calm down, honestly you were surprised he didn't push you off.

As mentioned before, emotions were not Alastor's think nor was physical affection. However in this moment, with you crying lightly and hugging him as if he were your only hope of survival, he decided that maybe, just this once, he would let it slide.

For his comfort, you didn't allow the hug to last longer than a minute. Once you pulled away you were embarrassed to say the least and prepared for him to possibly scold or never talk to you again. But, to your surprise, he simply pat your head and whispered, “Sleep tight, cher.”and was gone with a blink of your eyes.

To say you were sad was an understatement, but you knew that he'd be back tomorrow like he was everyday. The idea of talking to him tomorrow. To hear his voice in real time, talking to you and to offer comfort because he actually cared made your heart pound in your chest. As much as you didn't want to think this way, you couldn't help it. He seemed so concerned about you, in a way that no one else has until now.

You did your best to still your beating heart as you began to clean up your fun from earlier, only to find your cards were missing. You looked everywhere and still couldn't find them, ultimately you claimed into bed and decided that maybe Alastor snapped them somewhere you'd never find so that he wouldn't have to loose, I mean, play anymore.

Meanwhile…

“Alastor you're late!” Vaggie snapped as he came waltzing down the stairs, following her to where the rest of the group sat waiting.

“I am aware Vagatha, I was busy doing something else.” He replied calmly, only to make the fallen angel more irritated. “Whatever, I hope you brought something because it's your turn for a group activity today..”

“But of course! How could I forget?” He smiled impishly, before pulling out a red box with a familiar word on it. Once with the rest of the residents, Alastor clapped his hands together and pulled out a chalkboard seemingly out of nowhere.

“For today's activity being hosted by yours truly, we shall all be playing a game suited for bonding and the strengthening of relationships,” He beamed, writing out the title of the game in big letters for everyone to see.

“The name of the game is...UNO!"

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

(Thank you for coming back for Chapter 3# of this story! I hope you stick around for the next one because I plan to make it the last. I've been so busy with life and stuff, it's kinda hard to find time or motivation to write, but I do want this to come to a close while still making room for a bit of fun between Al and the Reader.

For those who asked me to make a tag list, I'm not entirely sure how to 😅. Though I will try to figure it out for the next time I write a short story. Don't forget to leave your opinions behind in the comments and thank you for all the love you guys give me, it means a lot 💜

Stay Tuned! :D

Taglist: @twistedvanillacoffee @diffidentphantom @boldlyenchantingfox22

[v-era-18]

HoneyBee

Chapter Five: Respect

‘Respect is important-but the higher power knows nothing about that’-Mikaela Banes 

5

Mad wouldn’t be the proper words to describe the sheer emotions she was feeling at the moment. This was the second time she was placed in handcuffs thanks to the boy who sat on the other side of Mikaela in the backseat. Her arms ached in the position she sat in, knees placed together in cramped fashion due to the driver's seat being rolled back a bit. Livid-yes that was the word (Y/n) wanted to use. 

“Comfortable?” Simmons joked, he was met with an icy glare before the eyes traveled back to the window beside them, “I see you’re the smart one out of the three of them. You haven't said a word since we took you guys away.” 

“I'll speak when we have a lawyer,” She bit out, her voice dripping in venom from the night filled events, “None of us are going to be talking to you.” 

“Ah,” He grabbed his phone, pulling up a file with her face attached, “(Y/n) (L/n), only child-daughter of (D/n) and (M/n). Both parents tragically murdered in hit and run with the child being the only survivor, custody given to (GD/n) and (GM/n). (GD/n) died from cancer-” 

Simmons was cut off from being struck in the head with the teens right foot, the heel of her worn out sneaker connecting with his jaw. Mikeala had moved against Sam to give the girl a passage of revenge to her utmost pleasure. The agent was shocked, locking in on heated brown eyes nailing him to the seat. 

“Keep my family's name-out your fucking mouth!” 

He laughed nervously, “I simply read your file-” 

“Read it again, and I'll park my foot in your ass!”

“Okay-okay,” Simmons coughed and rubbed his aching jaw from the assault inflicted, “Did your alien friends teach you how to fight?” 

“What?” Sam uttered. 

“You heard me,” 

“We have no idea what you're talking about,” Mikaela lied smoothly. 

“Oh-oh, okay,” The man chuckled to himself, “Ladiesman217. That is your eBay username, right?” 

“Yeah, but, you know-it was a typo and I ran with it.” Sam's excuse was total bullshit. He needed to just tell the truth for now on. 

“What do you make of this?” The car went silent as Simmons played the tape, ultimately damning them with evidence. 

“My name is Sam Witwicky, okay? I am here with my best friend (Y/n) (L/n) and my car-“

“Is that you?” He cocked a brow. 

“Yeah that sounds like LadiesMan.” Mikaela stated simply. Sam rolled his eyes to hide his embarrassment. 

“Last night at the station, you told the officer your car transformed. And that girl over there,” The man pointed to (Y/n), “Said she had evidence that they’ve been here for years.”

He looked between the three of them, “Enlighten me.” 

“Well, here’s what I said, okay?” Sam laughed nervously, “‘Cause this is a total misunderstanding that my car had been stolen-“ 

“Really?” 

“From me, from my home, but it’s fine now because it’s back! It came back!” 

Mikaela noticed his error and decided to help, “Well, not by itself-“ 

“Well-no”

“Because cars don’t do that, because that would be crazy.” She started to laugh. 

All of them joined in except (Y/n), the said girl looked at them completely done with the situation. 

“That’s funny, that’s funny” Simmons went back serious, “So again, what do you kids know about aliens, huh?” 

“Oh you mean, like a Martian? Like what, E.T? No.” Sam denied. 

“It’s an urban legend.” Mikaela backed up. 

“Yeah.” 

“You see this,” he held up his badge, “this is an ‘I can do whatever I want and get away with it badge’” 

Oh we know, you guys use it enough already. 

“Right,” Sam's face went stoic, ultimately fed up putting up a front. 

“I’m gonna lock you up forever.” 

(Y/n) closed in on herself in the seat, Sam was ready to choke the man, he knew that he was directly targeting her with that statement. He felt ashamed with how he 

“Oh, god. You know what?  Don’t listen to him.” Mikaela snapped, “He’s just pissy cause he’s got to get back to guarding the mall.” 

“You, in the training bra, do not test me.” The man quipped, “especially with your daddy’s parole coming up.” 

“What?” Sam uttered, “Parole?” 

“Sam,” (Y/n) tried, her voice was dry. 

“It’s nothing,” Banes lied. 

“Oh, grand theft auto, that ain’t nothin?” 

The girl sighed looking towards the two best friends, “You know those cars my dad used to teach me to fix? Well-they-they weren’t always his.” 

“You stole cars?” 

“I know they had good reason,” (Y/n) defended the girl. 

“Well, we couldn’t always afford a babysitter, so sometimes he had to take me along.” 

“She’s got her own Juvie record to prove it!” The man exclaimed, “she’s a criminal! Criminals are hot.” 

(Y/n) rolled her eyes in frustration, “ do you ever shut up?” 

He ignored her, “That’d be a real shame if he had to rot in jail for the rest of his natural life. It’s is time to talk!” 

Suddenly the car was hit, causing them to spin to a skidding stop. The three teens screamed in response, (Y/n) was more than prepared to see a decepticon emerge on the other side. Everyone in the car ducked upon large metal hands emerging through the windows and tearing off the car roof. 

Upon looking up (Y/n) broke out into a grateful smile, it was no other than the leader of the Autobots himself who stopped the vehicle. Although he maybe could’ve done it a lot safer. 

“You A-holes are in trouble now.” Sam smirked, “Gentleman, I want to introduce you to our friend, Optimus Prime.” His best friend smiled at his growing confidence, something about the two of them knowing the importance of their decisions was starting to have an effect. Sam was growing-slowly-but the signs were there. The prime slowly stood up in front of the car, inspecting the three teens in the backseat, his eyes staying on (Y/n) longer due to her dazed look. 

“Taking the children was a bad move,” Optimus stated, “Autobots, relieve them of their weapons.” 

The rest of the Autobots emerged, shocking the rest of the government men. (Y/n) felt her worries wash away for a minute, she looked over seeing Ironhide nod to her, pleased to see that she was safe. She smiled in response, glad to see she wasn't on the big man's bad side as she originally thought. 

“Freeze,” Ironhide pointed his cannons, as a reflex the teens ducked their heads-although they weren't the ones in danger they knew the familiarity of the heat. 

“Whoa! Whoa!” 

“Gimme those!” Jazz took the weapons away. (Y/n)’s inner child screamed at the sight with questions on her tongue, ‘that had to have been a giant magnet or is it his hand naturally capable of doing that-’ 

Optimus kneeled down to the vehicle his faceplate could be read as furious. 

“Hi there.” Simmons uttered with an awkward smile.

All nice now that you realize you fucked up. 

“You don’t seem afraid. Are you not surprised to see us?” The Prime questioned. 

The man shrugged nervously, “Look there are S-Seven protocols, okay? I’m not authorized to communicate with you except to tell you I can’t communicate with you.” 

That wasn’t a good answer. 

“Get out of the car.” The order sent chills down the human’s spines. 

“All right. Me? You want me to get-“ 

“Now!” 

The voice made the girl immediately try to get out of the car , it was that effective. She read that Primes could be terrifying, but she thought Optimus was an exception to that. She was extremely wrong. 

Mikaela started to work on (Y/n)s handcuffs first, “Thank you” the girl whispered in thanks. Mikaela could feel the weight of gratitude the girl had expressed alone in her words as well as the hug afterwards. 

She worked on Sam's next, “You’re good with handcuffs, too, now, huh?” This caused the girl to cringe at the boy's words, they weren't rough, just smart. The embarrassment set in of what her new friends knew about her and her past. 

“You weren’t supposed to hear all that.” 

“Yeah,” was all the boy could give as a response at the moment. He really couldn't think about Mikealas feelings at the moment 

Sam grabbed (Y/n)’s face, turning it side to side to make sure there were no injuries. After the way those men were handling her he was on edge, after all these years Sam hasn't lost his overprotective touch. “Thank god you’re okay.” He whispered, pulling her into a hug. 

She hugged him back. 

Mikaela came forward looking at the two friends in confidence, “I have a record because I wouldn’t turn my dad in. When do you have to sacrifice anything in your perfect little life?” 

(Y/n) shook her head, “Mikaela, your past doesn't make us view you any different. Those guys are assholes that don't have any respect.” 

“Yeah,” Mikaela laughed bitterly, “Respect is important-but the higher power knows nothing about that.”

“What is Sector Seven?” Sam stalked up to Simmons, “Answer me.” The boy was done from the past hour, the fact of the matter is-he was holding his anger back. All he could think about was his friend going limp and he couldn't do anything about it. He felt weak-useless! His friend couldn't breathe and he couldn't do anything about it. 

“I’m the one who asks questions around here. Not you, young man!” Simmons scoffed. This only caused Sam to step forward, his face growing red, the only thing that stopped him was the brunette placing a firm hand on his chest. 

Mikeala stepped in, her anger radiating, “ How’d you know about the aliens?” 

“Where did you take my parents?” Sam demanded answers again. 

“I am not at liberty to discuss it.” The agent avoided answering once more. During this time (Y/n) felt a bit faint, shaking her head to get rid of the fog she looked around till she saw the faint outlines of black and yellow. With wobbly legs she made over to get guardian, causing him to look down and cock his head at her state-his optics narrowing slightly. Something was wrong. 

“No?” Sam dove into the man’s pockets. 

“Hey! You touch me, that's a federal offense,” the agent snarked. 

Sam held the badge up to Simmons face, boldness radiating off of him, “‘Do whatever you want and get away with it’, right?”

Simmons scoffed, “Yeah. Brave now all of a sudden, with his big alien friend standing over there.” 

Sam ignored him, “Where is Sector Seven?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Bumblebee kneeled down, trying to get a better look at his charge as she wobbled back and forth with her balance. Offering a servo the girl took it, using it to lay against in order not to fall. Mikaela noticed the interaction and immediately walked away from Sam gaining his attention. 

“(Y/n)?!” Mikaela took the girl's face in her hands before continuing to check her pulse, “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down-?”

“Shit!” Sam raced over towards her, “She usually takes her anxiety meds after an attack, she needs proper medical attention-“

“We already gave it if you were paying attention.” One of the agents spoke up. The way the teen boy turned so fast was dizzying. Anger practically radiated off of him. 

Mikaela turned towards Ratchet, her expression desperate, “Have you checked about human anatomy? O-or possible medical conditions?!” The medic stepped forward and started scanning (Y/n)‘s body, judging from his sudden stiff stance it wasn’t good. 

“She’s highly malnourished and experiencing high fatigue. The effects from this ‘anxiety attack’ has left the body weak and slow to respond,” The autobots turned to Ratchet in shock, it hasn't even been three hours yet and their Storyteller was already experiencing harsh effects of war. 

Bumblebee froze before heatedly turning to the government men in front of them, ‘Are you *bleep* serious?!’. The radio within the bot was switching between channels fast for him to find a proper response for this situation, however he couldn't find any. His anger was spilling over by the minute. 

Sam turned to Bumblebee, his face red, “No you heard it right!” The teen boy pointed to the two FBI agents that grabbed her earlier along with Simmons berating, “Those fucking idiots were the ones who caused it! The ones who are supposedly supposed to protect our people-our nation?!” 

Simmons seemed to grow nervous, looking at (Y/n)’s state as she was practically being held up by Mikaela, “I-It was a mistake on my part-I skipped her medical file-,” 

“Oh! So you run background checks on her family but don't bother to check her medical file on severe anxiety? And you call yourself an Agent-?” Sam cut off looking right behind Simmons, a quirk of a smile appearing as they all heard an abrupt pop. 

A disgusted breath left the older male as he felt himself drenched with what appeared to be gasoline, “Hey-Hey! Get that thing to stop, huh?”

Optimus frowned at his scouts actions, “Bumblebee, stop lubricating the man.” He understood why he was upset-they all did. However there were more approaches to the situation at hand they could do. The scout simply shrugged, turning back to his charge faintly smiling at him the best she could. 

Ratchet was kneeling before her giving instructions on what to do for her condition until they could get her to be properly treated. (Y/n) proceeded to do the breathing methods along with telling herself a story to distract herself from what was going on around her. Bumblebee stood on the side for support, watching her chest rise and fall at a good pace as well as making sure her balance was okay. It wasn't long before all the government men were seated that her breathing and body gained some strength back. 

“All right, tough guy,” Mikaela waltzed over to Simmons, “Take it off.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your clothes, all of it, off.” The brunette demanded once more. 

Simmons was beyond pissed, “For what?!” 

She took a deep breath before responding, gathering all the patience she needed from tonight, “For threatening my dad,” She then proceeded to point to (Y/n)-the girl walking back over to the scene, “And for disrespecting (Y/n).” 

The man took a long look between the three teens, his eyes unforgiving. It wasn't long before he started to do as he was told, “Little lady, this is the beginning of the end of your life.” Mikaela simply nodded, already ready for the consequences that would unfold from this. “You're a criminal. Let's face facts. It's in her gene pool-”

“You got a lot of mouth from someone with hideous underwear like that,” (Y/n)s face scrunched up in distaste. 

“Now get behind the pole.” Mikaela ordered next. 

“This is such a felony what you're doing,” The other man said, his stance prideful. 

‘This bitch.’

(Y/n) looked him dead in the eye, the brown iris screaming in anger, “You guys commit felonies everyday but get off scot free because of your privilege. Don't talk to us about felonies. You lost that right forty minutes ago.”  

Simmons turned to her and Sam, “I will hunt you down, okay? He'll hunt you down.” Sam simply replied with a nod. His threats aren't working, “Without any remorse! No remorse.” 

 (Y/n) froze as she heard it, the distant sounds of helicopters flying overhead and cars revving in the distance, “Uhh-guy’s! It's time to go!” 

Ironhide heard it as well, “Optimus! Incoming!”, he slammed his servo on the ground causing a rippled effect of electricity to slow them down. 

The autobots started to transform, leaving the three teens to look at the vehicles in pursuit anxiously. (Y/n) held the necklace on her chest, her heart hammering as her body still felt weak. If she needed to make a run for it she wouldn't get that far, she knew that for a fact-but if they-.

“Roll out,” Optimus orders the autobots, the screeching of tires filling their ears as they make their escape leaving them with the Prime. The leader lowered his hand, making (Y/n)s nerves go on edge, “Up you get.” In her mind it wouldn't make more sense for him to transform and the three of them claymore in, it would save the big rig a lot of time and be more discreet around the humans. 

Not gonna argue right now. 

Each of them climbed onto the Primes hand, before he lifted them up to his shoulders making haste on foot. OPtimus begins to run around the bridge, the helicopter's lights landing on them as the three teens try to hang on tight to whatere piece of metal on his shoulders that they could find.  It wasn't long before he headed through the street, cars honking and skidding to a stop in order to not be crushed underneath. 

“Oh my god,” (Y/n) gasped, she tried closing her eyes but she could hear it all. From the cruising of gravel to the endless screeching of tires and helicopter blades. 

Optimus finally was able to lose them, hiding underneath the bridge high enough from the helicopters and cars so they wouldn't detect them. There was on problem. Gravity. 

“Easy you three,” The prime tried to comfort, he could hear their panicked breaths in his audio receptors, concentrating especially  on (Y/n) considering her current condition. Optimus shifted slightly trying to get a better grip, accidently knocking the three-of-them hanging off a piece of his shoulder like a loose thread. 

“Oh my god! Sam no!” (Y/n) was hanging onto Mikealas hips, tears streaming down her face as a helicopter passed too close underneath her. 

“No! NO! No, Sam!” Mikeala tried to grab the boy's other arm making sure the girl holding her wouldn't fall, “Sam don’t drop us!” 

“Oh God!” 

“Sam, don’t! Sam, dont!” She tried to get a better grip, her fear pumping into her stomach as she thought about the girl at her hip, “ I’m slipping! I’m slipping!” 

“Mikeala don't you dare! Please don't let go!”

It was too late Sam lost his grip, causing the rest of them to scream the ground coming fast, “Hold on!” Optimus tried to catch them with his feet but was unsuccessful with them, being unable to grip in time. 

With some hope for a miracle (Y/n) screamed “Bumblebee!” 

A flash a black and yellow reached her peripherals before she felt herself being jostled a little. Her and Sam both held on to one another as they felt Bumblebee hit the ground coming to a skidding stop. 

It wasn't long before they heard the copters  again and the revving of engines, (Y/n) looked up at Bumblebee, her thoughts racing wild as she feared for his safety. “Bee you have to go now!”

“Stop! Stop!” Sam’s pleas were going unheard as they continued to fly overhead. The first cannon was shot and locked on, pulling the scout in another direction, “Wait! NO!” 

“Take the shot! Get him! Take the shot!” 

“Stop! No! Don't hurt him!,” (Y/n) raced forward but was pulled back by Mikaela, her grip strong, “Let me go! Bumblebee!” The second one was released-his other arm, the the third-one of his legs. She could hear it-the painful whirrs he was letting out from the assault-the worst part is this. He wasn't fighting back. He wasn't a threat to them. 

The final shot flipped him completely off his feet leaving the girl in shock, her resolve crumbling, “Bee, you have to fight back! You hear me! Fight back!” (Y/n)s screams were useless underneath how loud the blades were, each second that went by hearing her protector in pain caused her great turmoil.  

The cars arrived, blocking the exits from the scene before them. Sam pulled the two girls behind him, making sure to have a firm grip on his best friend so she wouldn't run to the scout, “No! Stop!” 

Guns. It was the guns that made everything humbling, so frightening. That's all she could see around her from each man in black-badges on full display. “Get down on the ground! Get down! Get down!” The three teens' hands went up, slowly getting down on their knees in defeat. It wasn't enough for them as they were shoved down to the pavement, groans of discomfort leaving their lips, (Y/n) didnt care-she was too focused on the black and yellow mech groaning in pain- not making any effort to escape. 

“Look! Please! He's not fighting back!” The afro haired cried, “You're hurting him!” 

Her screams were ignored once more, only to be covered up with another chilling command, “Freeze it! Freeze it! Freeze it!” 

They were pulled up, giving them a full view of the white smoke being blasted at him, Sam's screams filling the air, “Stop hurting him!”. Bumblebee fell to the ground, pained groans and whirrs filling the air as the girl's heart ripped in two. For a brief moment she didn't see the mech on the ground she could see another scene, a small framed femme trying to crawl away, two bodies laying waste in her arms as the men surrounded her. The surroundings were different. Instead of a bridge it was street lights and open roads-stores. 

They had done this before. They had done this the night of her parents' deaths. And it definitely won't happen again tonight!

(Y/n) kicked the officer from behind, quickly making her way over to the black and yellow mech before them. It was blind rage, she could feel it, from the way she grabbed the house aiming it to the other men, one going down after she proceeded to kick him repeatedly. An officer tried to grab her, only for her to grab his baton and whack him with it, a resounding crack following. The best thing is she wasn't alone fighting for this mech's life-Sam and joined in hosing down another group of men as well, before being taken down by two other men. 

She got through, getting in the scouts face-his optics focused on her, “Bee get up! You got to get-” Her sentence was cut short as he was grabbed from behind her mouth covered, before being pushed to the ground to be handcuffed. She fought back her fight not leaving her much to the officers dismay. 

It was a domino effect, once she was pushed to the ground, they heard it. The angry whirrs from the scout was unmatched as he started to pull the helicopters down with him. (Y/n) looked over eyes catching optics as it seemed like he was trying to get to her, one copter was successfully pulled down it crashing on pace. It didn't explode, which was a good thing but it only got worse for the bot as another  copter hooked him again pulling back down with more force this time. 

No…

The girl let out a sob in defeat, her efforts were in vain for her protector couldn't be saved with her own hands. Sam was stopped in front of Simmons-the agent had a satisfied smile on his face, “Happy to see me again?” 

“I'd rather jump from that bridge,” (Y/n) scowled. 

Simmions simply cocked his head at her, “Put them in the car with their little criminal friend.” The two were ushered into the car, (Y/n) in the middle with Sam and Mikaela on either side of her. The afro hairs slammed her head back in frustration at the agent's next words, “I want that thing frozen and ready for transport.” 

(Y/n) sobbed, “They're gonna do Bee just like they did Estel,” She turned to Sam, her expressions telling it all, “They're gonna freeze him and experiment on him.” 

The witwicky shook his head, “We're not letting that happen, I promise,” He looked her in the eyes-they didn't waver this time causing her heart to swell, “And this time-i'm not breaking it.” 

The cars pulled away the helicopters following in tow giving the green light for the autobots to emerge from hiding. Jazz was the first one to transform, scoping the area, “Hang back let me check it out,” He climbed down to underneath the bridge where Optimus was hiding. “Optimus, are we just gonna stand here and do nothing?” 

“There's no way to free Bumblebee without harming the humans,” Was the Primes reply. 

“But it's not right. He-” 

“Let them leave.” The leader finalized, his tone filled with sorrow. He looked down before picking up the glasses they sacrificed so much to obtain, only to realize the book was still with the girl. 

Their storyteller in the hands of the humans with the book was risking, but they trust her with their lives. With the way she fought hard to protect Bumblebee in her weak state-they'd be fools not to. 

~ ✯ ~

(Y/n) sat across the other man and women on the helicopter nervously. She had never flown from so high before and she didn't think today was going to be the day she got to experience it. The night had quickly turned into day signifying she needed a long day of sleep in the comfort of her room snuggled up into one of her bears. Mikaela and Sam sat on either side of her once more, not giving her the glory of seeing the view down below, she guessed she shouldn't be complaining so much. She didn't know if she had a fear of heights, and today she didn't want to find out. 

“So,” Sam started the conversation. 

The blonde woman nodded in understanding, “What do they get you for?” 

“Uh,” He turned to (Y/n) an awkward smile on his face, “I bought a car. Turned out to be an alien robot, and uh she-” 

“My family has been associated with them for god knows how long,” His best friend finished for him. 

‘Wow’ the man mouthed. 

“Who knew?” He smiled, (Y/n) as well finally finding a tad bit of humor in their situation. 

It wasn't long before they reached their location, the dam came into view with tourists becoming more apparent. With getting out of the vehicle the group of teens got a good view of their location, it was beautiful, if that's what anyone wanted to hear. 

“This is not my idea of a vacation?” (Y/n) muttered, “I would rather to go to disney world than here,”  

Sam laughed, “Shes finally back,” 

“Meh,” The girl shrugged, “Just trying to make the best out of a shitty situation.” 

The three of them followed the men, soon being met with the sight of Simmons, erasing the easy expression on the girl's face. She could still hear her protector's groans of pain in her head, ikt was even worse with the image of him reaching out to her, pulling down a helicopter in the process. 

“Hey kids,” He looked between the two best friends, “I think we got off to a bad start huh?” 

“A bad start would be an understatement,” The afro haired huffed. 

He shrugged, playing nice, “You guys must be hungry,” he placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, the boy growing annoyed, “You want a latte? HoHo? Double venti macchiato-?” 

“Where's my car?” Sam questioned, “No better yet wheres my friend-” 

Another man stepped forward, “Son, I need you to listen to me very carefully. People can die here.” He turned to (Y/n), “We need to know everything you know. We need to know it now.” 

“No-” 

“Okay,” 

“Sam!” (Y/n) hissed, “What are you-?” 

“But, first I'll take my car, my parents. Maybe you should write that down,” The boy replied, “Oh, and her juvie record. That's got to be gone. Like, forever.” 

He turned to his best friend, “Anything you want to add (Y/n)? Since you know you're the one with all the history that these guys need to know,” the boy turned back to the other man with a smile on his face, “This girl beside me was raised on this stuff, She’s a (L/n)-learn to remember.” 

The man froze for a minute, turning back to the girl, “(L/n)? Daughter of (D/n) (L/n)?” (Y/n) nodded, biting her lower lip from the man's intense stare. The man pointed to her looking at Simmons, “Get that girl whatever she wants immediately, her uncle is practically a veteran here and her family are legends.” 

“And you son, come with me. We'll talk about your car,” 

[deepdonutkid]

Part 3/5 Katniss and Peeta’s roles reversed in Mockingjay

I kinda figured out everything I want to say about this whole situation and now I’m adding the part, where I eleborate on why I think:

Peeta is a bad-ass motherfucker

"you’re punishing him over and over for things that are out of his control. now, i’m not saying you shouldn’t have a fully loaded weapon next to you round the clock. but i think it’s time you flipped this little scenario around in your head. if you’d been taken by the Capitol, and hijacked, and then tried to kill peeta, is this the way he would be treating you?” demands Haymitch" (mj, 229) (thanks again @thesmileykate for searching that quote)

So, Peeta is in Katniss’ position in D13. He is approached by Coin to represent the rebels and the ongoing revolution, after learning his own district was bombed to pieces and his whole family is dead. Katniss is gone. He doesn’t trust Haymitch anymore. Finnick is a crying hot mess. Gale and him will never be friends. The house is literally on fire.

Of course, his biggest concern is going to be: saving Katniss. Just like she was so desperate to save him. But he is still not the type of guy to run around with a gun and killing randoms... he is just not like Gale. He was never a hunter, since he was in the Games, he knows: “Killing is always personal.”

Like even when he is put in that position, where he has to be this brave war hero, I can’t really wrap my head around this one. Yes, he can act, but I highly doubt his moral compass would allow it. Also, he is smart enough to play Coin and Plutarch. He would convince them, that they’re going to get a better result, if they let him do this his way.

His way would involve, getting a weapon of his choosing. And it’s not going to be a gun. Katniss already stated in the books, he doesn’t have a good aim like her. Yes, he managed to fight Cato in the first games, but that’s mid range at most, and that was only in the movies or assumptions.

Since Cinna already got everything ready for Katniss to become the Mockingjay, it’s raising the question... who would Peeta become? There are some posts about him either being a mockingbird or a jabberjay. (personally, I would tend to jabberjay, but maybe he would also get a totally different ‘nickname’ )

It’s safe to admit, since the main goal of the rebels in the third Quell was getting Katniss- that’s why every other Victor had to prove themselves to Katniss-, not Peeta, they wouldn’t as prepared for him as they were for her. So, he pretty much had free choice in how to present himself. Maybe he even got help from Portia.

Peeta would pick something he is familiar with, like a knife, probably longer than shorter. Something like a machete. And then I just got this idea... He already says in the books to Katniss, she and Haymitch are too similiar. Haymitch’s partner in the games was Maysilee Donner and she used a blow gun with poison. And if he views himself as the counterpart to Katniss, why not sticking with the analogy. With the blow gun he has a mid range weapon, which doesn’t have to be deadly. He would probably have some different darts, some of them deadly, some of them just have a strong soporifics or some paralysing effect, some might inflict pain. He might have need some training to get used to it, but he has shown to stick to his plan with some sort discipline.

This blow gun thing would also give him the opportunity to play by his own rules. Sure, D13 would hand him a gun, but he would only use it, when there is no other option to take.

But fight is not what makes Peeta Mellark a bad-ass motherfucker. It’s clearly his gift for words. And while Katniss is out of his reach in a harmful enviroment, Peeta is not just losing his mind... he is getting frustrated and impatient with those around him.

Snapping at those, who try to keep him from Katniss or try to argue with him, when she is back, about what she needs. He knows what she needs and it’s not to watch the Games again or some clips of him, because that’s not helping Katniss seeing who he really is. She met the real Peeta, but never with cameras around them.

And he knows by now, how important he is for the revolution. They need a figure to push their agenda through. Peeta is very aware of the effect the media has on people. And if someone can own that role, it’s Peeta. He is giving them a run for their money.

Just imagine his talk with Coin giving his requests. He would walk in there, with a complete list of demands (not like Katniss half empty piece of paper, but our girl never been the writer type) and oh boy, Coin better be prepared, because he is going to argue as long as he need to, until he gets what he wants. And yes, he even has some minor demands, he can drop to give Coin the feeling of control, when he clearly has the upper hand. Peeta is really going to make Coin wish, she got Katniss instead of him XD

“First things first... we need to get Katniss out of the Capitol.”, Peeta says. 

Coin shakes her hair slightly. The grey vail hovers over her shoulders. “That is not our highest priority at the moment. We have to focus on.-”

“On getting Katniss back!”, he interrupts her: “She is the Mockingjay! She is girl on fire! It’s her, can’t you see it? Her actions started the whole revolution.”

“The general assumption is the star-crossed lovers ignited the flames of revolution in the Districs. As long as we don’t control the Districts, the war will go on. I’m sure, you’ll understand this, soldier Mellark.”

A long sigh left Peeta’s lips. His muscles still ached from the arena, but he didn’t want to stay any longer in this damn hospital bed. There was this dire need in him, stronger than ever, just to hold her. Katniss. Maybe running his fingers through her dark hair, if she let him.

His eyes flickered. He was too tired to keep them open. So exhausted from yelling, he just muttered under his breath: “Wouldn’t it be weird? I’m mean, I’m not just her fiance, I also publicly announced, we already got married and are expecting a child. Wouldn’t it look bad, if my first mission wasn’t saving her?”

Plutarch nodded. “Yes, I guess, we can’t leave a pregnant girl in the hands of the Capitol.”

Little excerpt of some dialog that’s been in my head for a week now.

[galvanizedfriend]

hi, yokan <3

I read that in Brazil there's a week-break because of carnival, therefore I hope you're finally having a bit of rest!

I was wondering if you could post an outtake with the klaroeve scene? from you comment I understood that there was more than that little scene in the latest chapter, and I would LOVE to read it!

sorry if I sound rude or pressuring, it's not my intention at all :(( I'm just Eve's third parent, I need more scenes with my babygirl being adorable 😭😭

I totally get why you don't put more of her in the main story. I ALWAYS say that babyplots are terrible due to a lot of factors, one of them being the constant present of a baby who basically does nothing (rightfully, since, yk, it went out of the whomb last year) and that adds nothing to the plot but just terrible fan service.

I think most people would agree with this, maybe even you!

HOWEVER, my little wolf/fish/mermaid is THE exception and I would love to see more of her, and, since u have a series dedicated to those fluffy moments that don't exactly fits with the plot, I really wish you will post something there 😭😭

sorry for bothering you, I hope you'll have a good day!

P.S.

totally off-topic but I also read some of your comments in Portuguese (AT LEAST I think it's Portuguese 😭) and I understood like 80% of it, privileges of being Italian ‼‼ so lol now you really can't escape me >:)

Yes, it's Carnaval right now! It's a nearly weak-long holiday, but it sadly ends on Wednesday. 😢 And I was technically on call yesterday, so 😂 But I am very much enjoying not doing anything 🤷‍♀️

About the baby thing, yes. 😂 I've been so lucky to get some passionate readers almost from the start with this fic and to have people who are still reading it a ton of years later, but I've also had to read some very mean things over the years that have stuck with me. It has made me extremely self-conscious about this story. I sometimes find myself almost apologizing for writing it, like I'm commiting some kind of crime against fandom or like I should be banned for inflicting this upon people for as long as I have. I wish I could be the kind of person who just doesn't care and remains blissfully unbothered, but I'm not. I'm not a naturally confident person in any way, and that kind of thing does get to me.

It's gotten better, of course. I care a lot less now than I used to, and the fic is not as popular as it was a few years ago either, so there's that But some of that stuff has just ingrained itself into my brain. Objectively I know this is stupid and I don't owe anybody anything, I don't have to apologize for writing a fanfiction for god's sake. There's room for everyone in fandom. I can have a corner to rewrite the show and have a magical Klaroline baby, fuck it. Who cares, you know? But it's almost stronger than me sometimes, I don't realize I'm doing it. I get this feeling that I need to be more critical otherwise people are going to think it's ridiculous and OOC and nobody's gonna want to read it anymore and etc etc. It's exhausting. And it's obviously nobody's fault, it's just me in my own head, but that's how it goes.

The scene you're talking about in particular. I had it written years ago. Literal years, maybe 2021 or early 2022. Some of my friends had even already read it a loooong time before the chapter was finished. And I was convinced that it was so cute and totally fine. Then as I wrapping up the chapter, I started getting this itch that it was actually ridiculous and the folks who had read it didn't say anything because they were being nice, they didn't want to hurt my feelings, and I had to get delete it. So I did. In all truth, I think the chapter is more polished like this. But then I removed a family scene and ended up writing smut that also had no place in the chapter, so. 🤷‍♀️

Anyway, I'm sorry for the rambly response. 🥲 I'll tell you this: I will read the deleted scene again and if I feel it's not dumpster-fire bad, I will post it here. But I need to check it first, because there is chance that it's not just my paranoid head telling me to get rid of the baby scenes and it really is just that bad. 😂

And as for the last part, yes, it's Portuguese. It's my native language. And it's so funny how Italian, Spanish and Portuguese can be so similar. I understand Spanish much better than Italian, but I do get some of it as well. Latin languages 🤜🤛 (except French, I don't understand French at all 😂)

[popculturebuffet]

Ghostbusters 40th Anniversary Review: We Got the First One! (Comission for WeirdKev27)

We got one all you happy people! Are you troubled by strange noises in the night? Do you experience feelings of dread in your basement or attic? Have you or your family actually seen a spook, specter or ghost? If the answer is yes, then don't wait another minute. Read this review!

Yes it's time to talk about ghostbusters for my good friend weird kev... whose in the middle of a Hurricane warning so please, give him your good thoughts, prayers if your religious and just.. hope for him.

For now let's focus on Ghostbusters. It's one of the biggest comedies ever made in both scope and pop culture relivance, launching 4 sequels (Which we'll get to over various halloweens) , 2 tv series with a third on the way at the time of this reading, a ton of video games including the excellent liscneed game we'll cover next year, and comics most notably idw's stellar run with the concept including a tmnt crossover which i'll undoubtly cover at this point that's one of the few of idw's many neat TMNT crossovers that's canon to the main books. For real, Ghostbusters/TMNT is plot relevant.

It's a big thing and a big thing to talk about, but it all started with an idea in comedy legend and at the time mostly famous for being an SNL alum and a blues brother Dan Akroyd's Head: Dan came from a family with an intrest in ghosts: his grandpa was a spiratulist, his mother had claimed to see them and Dan had picked up that love of ghosts and the supernatural. The man fully beleives in the beyond and I respect him for it. A chunk of his interview in the old ghostbusters dvd is just him making it clear he does believe and honestly.. I like that. Wether you think ghosts are real or not, I do but do also have the caveat a lot of ghost hunters and mediums are just confidence men, women and nb's. But Dan isn't one, he belives. He's also a bit off and I love him for that, see nothing but trouble for evidence. I haven't yet but you can inflict that on yourself at your leisure.

So Dan dreamed up a wild film set in a futuristic new york where ghostbusters were common as exterminators. He showed it to his friend director Ivan Reitman, who at the time was famous for Bill Murray vehicles Meatballs and Stripes and would go on to have... an objectively weird yet succesful carrier with Twins, Dave , My Super Ex Girlfriend, No Strings Attached and ending with Draft Day of all things a film i'm still not entirely convinced exists. I mean I saw the trailer a lot but i'm still not 100% convinced someone didn't just shoot b roll of Kevin Costner and claim they made a movie and slapped ivan reitman's name on it.

Conspiracy theories aside he was both a talented guy and a friend of Akroyds and despite being reluctant to read it, loved he. He did spot the problem though: it was way too expensive to make. So he suggested moving it to modern day earth and grounding it, having the guys start as college professors who get canned and go into work. Blue collar guys.

To help Reitman brought in another friend of his Harold Ramis. Like Reitman and Akroyd, having written Meatballs , Directed Caddyshack and soon after writing in stripes. The man is a comedy legend and I miss him terribly. Ramis and Akroyd got along well, with Ramis knowing supernatural stuff well even if unlike Dan he didn't belivie.

Dan originally planned for two other comedy legends to be in the movie after adding ramis in the scripting process: John Belushi and Eddie Murphy, both former snl cast members and friends of his. The former didn't work out for tragic reasons you already likely know, with Dan working on the the script just as he got a call saying John was dead. Eddie.. I have no idea. The interviews on the dvd and blu ray said nothing and the oral history I found mentions this but not why it didn't work out. Maybe he was busy, maybe the studio couldn't afford his sallary, we don't know.

So in Jim's place Dan brought in ANOTHER SNL Alumn, one that could help sell the project: Bill Murray. You know him, you love him as a performer, you might want to punch him as a person, and he was a big deal at the time and having worked with Reitman on two previous hits, was an easy get.

Replacing Murphy was Ernie Hudson, an actor who hadn't done much at that point and has had steady gigs as a character actor showing up on Oz, and in a nice roll on Grace and Frankie as Frankie's boyfriend jacob. He was also Agent Fowler in transformers prime, something I didn't know but is neat.

Rounding out the cast was Desinging Women's one and only Mary Jo, Annie Pots as the Busters sassy secretary Janine. Sigourney Weaver auditioned and while reitman was skeptical her barking like a dog and proving she had comedic chops and was willing to do slapstick convinced him. William Atherton was brought on as Dickless antagonist Walter Peck, and canadian comedy legend and the man I wish was my dad Rick Moranis as happless neighbor Louis. The roll was meant for John Candy but Reitman got the sense Candy didn't want to do another wacky supporting role and gave it to Moranis instead.

The cast was set shortly after Reitman made a gamble: he pitched the film to the head of columbia, who agreed despite execs urging him "please for the love of god cancel this expensive comedy", provided they got it done by early next year.

Despite the scramble production seemed to go well. At worst people grumbled about the stoppages to get new york, including sci fi legend Isaac Asamov, but it seemed shooting went well and I don't have much to perform on that. The cast got along and thanks to Bill Murray being a big deal and him an ddan being legends in new york they got into any restraunt early or late as they needed to.

The film was a success, such one that even a test screening with no effects went damn well and well.. here we are. So join me under the cut as I unpack one of the finest horror comedies ever made.

Ghostbusters begins fittingly with a haunting.. and one that scared me as a kid a common story and the reason I didn't glom onto it as much as a kid as i'm sure many of you did. The context probably didn't help: I loved libraries, still do, and the slow buildup as a librarian goes about her day and the reveal of that ghost.. it's a lot.

It's a good thing for our heroes though and I got to hand it to Reitman, Ramis and Akryoyd, the ghostbusters are some of the best protaganists in comedy, three, later four, very fleshed out believable guys acted to perfection. You know em you love em but since i'ts my job they are: Ray Stanz, an excitable beliver in all things spooky who is passionate, gets excited over weird shit when others would say don't, and is basically me if I went into academia: cyncial but also a big ole kid. Egon Spengler is his taciturn best friend, a fellow researcher at the local university who is terse to the extreme to the point it's hard to tell when he's actually joking and Ramis' finest performance.

And finally we have the least of them, despite being often the face of the band, Peter Venkman. The other two are loveable weirdos, ray being an excitable kid at this stuff at his best and goofy and hapless when he ain't at his best and egon terse and professional but both at least studied hard and belive in what their doing. Peter like 95% of Bill Murray characters is coasting along in life best he can on charm. He enters the film shocking a hapless volunteer for funzies while hitting on the other one whose defintely too young for him. And is also a student. Peter.. is a bit of a creep, something that happens to a lot of Bill Murray characters with the passage of time as what passes for "zany trickster who sticks it to the man" in 1984 can be "sleazy at best assault at worst". I mean it's not the worst i've seen, there's a scene in Meatballs where Murray's character tripper half jokingly assaults his love interest and her crying for him to get off and his blaming her after jokingly is played for laughs

But it's still not good. We'll get into this more in a bit once we get to Dana but for now our heroes actually have found something after years of searching and go to the library. We get a lot of great gags out of this, from Peter dryly listing off things like "does your family have a history of schizorphenia" or "have you been drining" to the poor startled old woman, which is so fucked up it works, to one of my faviorite jokes of the film , Peter pointing out the time Egon tried to drill a hole in his head "And it would've worked if you hadn't stopped me. " I forgot till rewatched how joke DENSE this thing is, just enough to never not be entertaining but not enough to smother the plot which is well constructed, loose enough for improved jokes, but tight enough to not waste a second.

So our heroes find the ghost and use the time honored strategy of RUSH HER. This... goes poorly but does mean their real. Unfortunately this happens right around the same time our heroes get sacked. The university is tired of their shit and flim flammery and the dean looks oh so smug as he fires them.. granted I think he's mostly just pissed off with Venkman as he directs most of his rant at him

Egon and Ray getting fired.. is sad as they are genuinely trying. I mean ray's a touch cynical but he still clearly belivies. But while Venkman's key to the team.. it's not as a scientest. He's not stupid or anything, but he's clearly not actually been studying the work and mostly been trying to bang anyone he can with wacky schemes.

He does prove WHY he's part of the team after. As ray bemoans the private sector in a great line "You haven't been outside academia I have. They expect results" that shows he's a tad cynical himself, knowing this shit could take a while or forever, Venkman.. sees the profit and rallies them. They have access to the pest removal system of the decade, a service only THEY can provide, and cutting edge test... why not start their own buienss, rake in the dough and eventually franchise, something I love that the game and later IDW comics actually explored.

The others are convinced and put down a triple mortgage on ray's parents house to get the money for equipment and a place to set up shop. That place is the now iconic firehouse and I love each characters reaction: Peter likes it for being cheap if a wreck, Egon points out every single thing wrong with it, and Ray slides down the fire pole and wonders if they can go ahead and stay the night. God I love ray. I love Egon too but Dan Akroyd has so much fun in this part while still feeling like a fleshed out person.

To assit in this endeavor they hire the wonderful and hilarious Janine Melnetz. As I mentioned Janine is played by Annie Potts of Desgining Women Fame, and i'm sure some of you reading this

Have only vaugely heard of it at best. And since I have an audience allow me to educate ya'll as it's on Hulu and it is fantastic. Desining Women is a classic late 80's early 90's sitcom following Sugarbaker's Design Firm, set up in the house of Julia Sugarbaker, a non nonsense libreal who will tear you to shreds with words on a moments notice, and is run by her and her friends/coworkers: Her fashionable former pagent queen rich as hell pig owning tiara wearing sister Suzanne, the off kilter but kinda nd empathetic charlene, annie's character Mary Jo, a put upon mother of two recently divorced from a cheating Scott Bakula, and Anthony, a sometimes voice of reason and ex con who has worked hard as hell to get his degree and often gets the funniest stuff. There's also Bernice played by the legendary Alice Ghostly who isnt' a main character for most of the show but is close enough and is both out of it and hilarous. There's more I could gush about but it's in all an extremly well written, well acted and hilarous sticom that also wasn't afraid to touch on hard topics, having a fantastic episode about AIDS and I emplore you all to watch it.

Annie Potts is just as on her a game there as here, with Janine's dry sarcasm being a great foil for Peter's, and her crush on Egon being a hilarous runner. In hindsight i'm.. not upset they didn't end up together. I used to be but it's clear he isn't intrested and i'ts hard to tale if his spoors and fungus line is him being genuine or him trying to scare her off. My take?

Our heros soon get their first client in Dana Barret, a cellist who finds an unsettling vistor from the beyond in her fridge

So she calls the Ghostbusters and naturally Peter is there to swoop in and... hit on her. Yeah this is where the bulk of peter being creepy comes from. It dosen't wreck the film but it does make me revaluate my old opinon of them being endgame as in hindsight most of their relationship is Peter going

Just constantly hitting on her. LIke she is kinda into it, but it's still someone called in to do a service not doing that and instead hitting on the client because he finds nothing. And later getting jealous because *gasp* she's hanging out with another guy and not him and he thinks their DAAAATTTTING. Even though he and her aren't DATTTTTING yet. What i'm saying is I don't buy it at all and they don't spend enough time on this romance to make me actually care. Maybe next time.

So with their money pretty much gone before Peter can embezzle it to ask dana out, our heroes finally catch a break: A ghost has been found in a local ritzy hotel and they need to go catch em. That ghost of course is SLIMER!

Slimer is the series mascot. You know him, you love him, some of you may of wanted to strangle him by the end of the cartoon. He's been in 4/5 movies, and in afterlife, his only absence.. was still present via his non union blue guy equilvent muncher. Slimer was their tribute to Jim Belushi, a blob who eats a ton, gets guck on people and likes to party. The kind of role Jim was good at. It's a wonderful tribute and I do like this part of him as stuck even in places where the old cast is absent or barely there.

The slimer effect is excellent and the chase for him, including the natural sliming that happens to Peter is great. Our power trio only has the vaugest idea of what the hell their doing at this point and i'ts fun to see. They still win in the end and I love them blackmailing the snooty hotel man who hired them whose pissed they trashed the ballroom. While they really DIDN'T pay any mind to it, I get focusing more on "get rid of the ghost that's coming in at night and wrecking up the place" over "PLEASE PRESVERE THE RICH PEOPLE SHIT".

It's part of the ghostbusters charm: while once fully assembled their two academics, a conman and a hard working working class guy who also has a degree, their ultimately working class heroes on the whole. THey started thier own buisness, bump up against beuracrats and their first client is a guy working for a snooty rich hotel whose also snooty as hell they succesffully get one over on, planning to release slimer then and there. Or rather back in the empty room where he's away from civlians but still gonna wreck up the place. This is protection wrackety, sure.. but the guy HIRED THEM to do a job and was going to stiff them for.. causing some damage doing it when it's a dangerous job. I have little sympathy for him trying ot stiff them on the bill because he thought they'd be cheap and didn't bother to actually.. ask for a price point before they went in. I also love the detail that slimer had ALWAYS been at the hotel, but the spike in ghost activity thanks to gozer clearly razzed him up.

Such a big bust and big payday puts our heroes on top: Magazine covers, invertviews, and some b roll from the test footage they shot of them running down the street. The ghostbusters astetic is an awesome one: the jumpsuits fitting their working class hero astetic, the big bulky proton packs clearly cobbled together and the ecto one, an old hearse reconfigured into one of the coolest cars in fiction from the siren to the tech on board to the all white paint job.

The montage is fun, allowing us to speed from "we can barely eat" to "Modest success" to the awesome theme song, which came in at the last minute and had to be used. My faviorite bits are the late great Casey Casem reporting on the ghostbusters on america's top 40, and how they apparrently spared a nightclub from a ghost then danced the night away. We were robbed of dan Akroyd's dance moves. The other is that a friendly ghost.. does some sex to ray. We can't see exactly what but we do see Dan Akroyd orgasm and that's really all you need.

WIth this success our heroes hire on a fourth man, Winston Zedmore. Winston is ready to belivie anything for a paycheck which as lot more harmless stance back then and is quickly hired... because he applied I guess. Ernie Hudson, while proud of the legacy of being a prominent black character in sci fi that many a kid looked up to, felt Winston was just kinda there.. he's introduced halfway into the film, dosen't get to do much and is just sorta the guy. Later sequels and adapatations do give winston way more to do, and my guess is Akroyd intended for Eddie Murphy to just improv a character and didn't bother to write in more of one. Winston does serve as a good straight man though, being the calm resonable one in the storm of stocisim, enthuasim and snark that the other three bring.

However while our heroes are now succesful, even having the now iconic no ghost logo which akroyd had sketched into the first script up top, that also brings enemy and they meet their arch enemy: A man who while absent from the sequel would plauge them in the video game/idw continuity and most recently in frozen empire. A man who may or may have no dick but certainly has no ethics. Mr. Walter Peck. Atherton perfectly plays him as a slimy asshole.

What makes peck intresting is he does have some legit concerns: the ghostbusters COULD be conmen and Peter WAS one at the unversity and the montage makes it clear from a cut in by Larry King that some people think they are up to shit. They are also carrying unathorized Nuclear Accelators on their back. The EPA does have a right to check in on them and frankly the ghostbusters are only able to get away with half of what they do because there's no real regulation for catching ghosts. Our heroes are loveable.. but they are reckless jackasesses. It's something that bleeds into the other movies , games and comics starring these guys to the point that the video game has a tally for how much shit you blow up. Winston only stops letting a 13 year old be on the team in frozen empire because Peck tells them to bench Phoebe. Granted said 13 year old is a pro at this and Peck is an asshole, but it's still on brand for the ghost busters to just kinda wing it and hope new york dosen't blow up.

We only root against Peck because again, he's an asshole. THe ghostbusters are likeable hot messes. Peck is that kind of entitled prick given too much power we run into every day. Peck's reaction to being refused entry by Peter, who while a dick to him is within his rights since Peck has no papers nor no identification saying he's actually with the EPA, is to go get a court order.. and then a short while later have a guy with the city he forced into helping him shut them down without having any idea what he's doing. Peck hates the busters on such a fundemental level, assumes their dicks from day one that instead of getting them shut down legally with proper procedure... which he easily could've done as our heroes are not careful nor cautious he barges in and nearly destroys the city.

But before that of course the rest of the plot needs to catch up. So they call in the diamond dogs, specifically gozer's two hell hounds. They grab dana with...demonic hands from her couch they can make manifest to drag her into the gozer dimension. Instead of just.. sending the big dog after her?

Because that's what they do with Dana's neightbor louis. Louis has shown up on occasin and is entertaining, a nerd who is having a party the same night Dana finally agreed to go out with peter and gets grabbed my demonic hands. Louis is a loveable asshole: he clearly does need to learn no as dana isn't intrested and he's disapointed when she can't go to his party, but does invite her to bring peter and it's very clear he isn't pressing harder than just.. asking her to be at his parties. Which isn't a lot but given Peter's tactic was showing up around where she worked to beg her to go out with him, restraint is appreciated. It's the bare minimum but it's also 1984 in thie movie. I also admit part of it is just Moranis charm, he's just such a dweeb in the best way and something I only noticedo n this watch is he's using the most Canadian accent he can, the same one he used for The Great White North sketches on SCTV.

So Louis gets chased by a giant demonic dog having been chosen to be the other possesion target and the sequence is hilarous and ends with the poor guy being possed and wandering the streets. So both halves of the orginzation end up dealing with gozers dogs: Peter finds Dana and after claming to be the keymaster gets inside.. but also restrains her as he realizes she's not herself and was in fact dealing with a possesion, while the rest of the team end up getting louis who wonders around possesed and gets that hilarous helmet clonked on his head once the police drop him off, having no idea what the hell to do with the guy.

SO our heroes figure out what the hell's going on: Gozer is an ancient sumerian god, and one of her worshippers, Ivo Shandor built Dana and Louis' apartment building as a conduit, hence them being chosen. To get into this world Gozer needs their keykeepr and keemaster to

Now why does Gozer need this? I assume they like to watch and that's the best I got.

So they need to keep them apart.. which becomes a problem as a certain dick comes in at just the wrong time to screw them all over: Peck charges back in with that electrican I mentioned, who TELLS Peck "I have no idea what the fuck i'm doing" has him swtich it off.. and ALLL the ghosts the busters have are released, Dana escapes while Venkman goes to meet the others, and Louis escapes in the confusion, with our heroes being drug to the mayors office at the worst possible time. So Gozer no has a possible army, new york is in chaos and getting worse, and the keymaster and keykeeper get it on doggy style in Dana and Louis' bodies, which is gross and uncomfortable if inteitonal.

So as new york buckles under the pressure the mayor asks the pope of.. new york I guess for advice but has nothing. Peck INTENDS for this to be a public hanging for the ghostbusters... and underestiamtes how bad he fucked up. Not only do Ray and Peter mock him with the classic "It's true this man has no dick line", but the ghostbusters are able to convince the mayor that yes this threat is VERY real, they need help and Winston gets his one real moment in the film, pointing out in just a week with the ghostbusters he's seen shit that would turn you white. Venkman as usual deliveris the verbal killing stroke and as much of a dick as he is.. the team does need him as he's the mouthpiece: their the ones who can fix it and if nothing happens well then throw them in jail.

And with a pillar of light errupting as Gozer enters this plain, the boys get what they need, a police escort as they enter to Alesi's truly orgasmic saving the day. An attack from Gozer dosen't knock them down as they get up again. and up.. and up and up and okay they may want to bring it down as they have to deal with so many fucking stairs before they get to the roof, with Dana and Louis now encased in giant dogs as they approach gozer. I love gozer's design, the spangly suit dead eyes and voice performance.

She asks if they be gods, no they be but men. And Peter has some wisdom for ray.

I also like how this comes from his initial plan being "Go get her ray", a nice bit of revenge for Ray's plan with the library ghost being GET HER.

So our heroes do their best but can't really fight a god so Gozer decdies to cut to the chase: CHOOSE THE FORM OF YOUR DESTROYER. This sequence I adore for it's creatvity: It gives gozer some personality beyond evil god as their a sadist, letting our heroes pick their doom and I like how Peter's instant response is clear your head... and how as usual Peter gets way too cocky as ray lets something slip in.. the most innocent thing he could think of..

This... was brilliant. Taking something innocent, a design Dan Akroyd got from his buddy thor because of course Dan Akroyd has a buddy named thor, and making it into a fucking kaiju. The only way our heroes can beat it, say it with me

CROSS THE STREAMS

A chekovs gun from earlier as crossing them could destroy reality.. but so could this little.. er big ole guy. It's honestly kind of insane how easily they beat gozer... just crossing the streams. I mean it causes a big ass explosion and gets them all covered in marshmallow, but it's still pretty simple. But it's a great sequence. our heroes win, dana is seeminglyd ead for a second but she and louis are just in dogs she and peter kiss for some reason and we get one of the best endings in film. From the build up with gozer, to the final desperation movie as easy as it was, to that triumphant walk out, even getting another great rick moranis bit as he's carted off seperately, i'ts fucking genius

And the film as a whole.. holds up well. A bit or two haven't, being an 80's comedy will do that to you 9/10, but the hwole of the film is an inventive romp with tons of iconic gags, designs, and performances. It's a true classic for a reason and still the gold stnadard five movies later. But check back later this halloween as we tackle the less than well recieved sequel and thanks for reading.

[ileftherbackhome]

As someone who was raised Christian (Roman Catholic, specifically) the older I get the more I realize how scary and cult-like it truly is!! The guilt that's instilled in you at such a young age is by far the worst, in my opinion. I was talking with my sister the other day and we both came to the conclusion that we're only still going to church on Sunday's (though we're still stuck at home, therefore "forced" to still go to church) is only because we've been literally conditioned to think we will go to actual hell for all eternity if we stop going.

In conclusion, yes I agree with you Christianity is fucked up!!! (And it should not be so normalized to be teaching it to kids as their brains are forming.)

I've heard this a couple of times from ex-believers and imo, I'm inclined to agree with you.

This is why I believe that christianity IS a cult, not just cult like, because the tactics they use are the same ones cults use to keep their new members (the children) under their control.

Any ideology that relies on the teaching that "all" humans are evil internally and that life is just a struggle against our "base carnal desires" in order to achieve eternal happiness ONLY AFTER death is inherently a cult imo. If they instill these teachings in you by beating you (which many christian families defend the use of child abuse), I dont think you really need to go any further than that to get your answer imho.

But you could! That's the crazy part of it all. You can literally point to how perfectly christianity fits within the BITE model of cults.

Behavioral control? Check.

Information control? CHECK.

Thought control? CHEEEEECCCCKKK.

Emotional control??? ALL THE CHECKS!

We can talk ad nauseum about all the thought stopping ways believers teach each other to stop thinking so hard about the words in their holy text. "you're not smarter than god" "you don't know more than god does" "we cant know his plan for us" "you think you're the first person to have these doubts" "doubt is the devil speaking" etc etc etc that are forced down the throats of children so that when their brain matures, they've already been indoctrinated into the cult and will have a hard time self-soothing such doubts and questions.

I am so sorry to hear about the trauma this religion has inflicted on you and your sister and I hope both of you find a way to rid yourself of that unearned fear that was forced onto you. It is really scary to realize that you and most everyone else you know has been indoctrinated into these beliefs (especially when your family uses such beliefs to defend objectively horrible shit like homophobia and sexism for example) and I wish I had a way to help everyone who is struggling with that knowledge come to peace with it.

Some of my friends say that they struggled for so long to deconvert publically because they wanted their loved ones to realize they've been conned along with them and it pains them to know that much of their family believes in literal lies because of eternal torment or whatever. Another reason why I think its actually a cult because members feeling guilty about leaving the cult since "all their family believes in it" and "what if they're right" just screams cult traums to me tbh.

I agree with you that christianity (and other religions too) should not be taught to children at all. The damage this type of thinking does to children is so fucking despicable to me. I wish I had a better answer on how to stop children from being indoctrinated into such a cult but unfortunately, I don't (at least not one that doesn't trample the rights of other people). All we can continue to do is to critique ideologies whenever we can and point out the factual errors within the religion itself. The rest is up to the individual believer if they want to really analyze why their religion is so incorrect about literally everything.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Writer Q&A Tag Game

Thank you @sunset-a-story for ALSO tagging me way back in August. I AM SO SORRY

1. What motivates you to write?

It itchy, itchy urge to create something. I NEED it OUT. I MUST make sense of it ALL. The thoughts need ordering and putting together to maximize the happy chemicals. I see something I like that someone else made and I get jealous so I must do something like that, but MY way, and BETTER. It all makes me very itchy (restless).

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

I skimmed my entire 3rd draft (so far) to pick a line. There are a lot of good ones but none I liked more than the rest - I couldn't choose. So... I know I've already shared this one but dammit. It is a kickass line. It's also the first line of WIPVII - and you do not know what devils I sold my soul to to escape THAT writer's block.

I will live, I tell myself through the salt water in my eyes and the sting of the south wind on my face. This will make for a good story one day.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Banter and wit. Which is funny because I always thought that was the thing I would struggle most with - I was the academic overachiever who took herself too seriously in school. But when I reread my drafts there is something that makes me laugh in nearly every scene. Most of my highlighted lines are banter or retorts.

6. What do you enjoy most about the Writeblr community?

I love seeing writeblr content on my dash and I looooove getting interactions when I liveblog my writing. It is so nice to be able to share this with people who love it too (rather than inflicting it on my poor irl friends who are not writers). I just love all you Writeblr friends so much!

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

A 2x3.5' and a 3x5.5' whiteboard with a rainbow's worth of whiteboard markers in different thicknesses for brainstorming, family trees, timelines. My sketchbook, a mechanical pencil, and YouTube drawing tutorials for my maps and concept art. MS Word, dark mode, Times New Roman pt 11, with comments enabled for my manuscripts, outlines (bullet points), and worldbuilding notes. Subfolders within subfolders stored on my PC to organize all my Word docs. Two separate USBs which my completed manuscripts are saved to (in case something happens to my computer AND one of the USBs).

I have yet to find any worldbuilding or map making software (and it hasn't been for lack of looking) that gives me enough flexibility. I have yet to find any writing software that has features Word doesn't but that would actually help my process rather than overwhelm me.

I do want to write out a draft of WIPVII by hand at some point (though with my penchant for writing hand cramps this might be doomed). I also want to try an electric typewriter.

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

WIPVII doesn't have very complex worldbuilding (there is no magic and most of it is ripped from real world history) but I do always love it when authors tell us what way the wind is coming, what smells it carries, what the view is in the distance, whose lands those are... that kind of stuff. Really creates a sense of place. I spent a lot of time mapping all this out in my own novel and I am very happy with it! The description feels so rich!

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Learn more about the craft. Writing is problem solving. If you aren't happy with something figure out why - the mechanics and technique behind writing. If you're still stuck learn even more. There are so many great, free resources on tumblr, youtube, blogs, pinterest (though it is most stolen from tumblr) even twitter and tiktok.

Also, learn how to filter out what advice is helpful now versus what should wait for later so you don't get overwhelmed. If you haven't even written a first draft yet don't bother with pacing, exposition, line editing, or let alone how to query. Just focus on the macro-stuff like plot and character arcs.

Tagging with the lightest brush on the shoulder these nine alleged humans: @cheeto-flavoured-pasta, @alnaperera, @bluberimufim, @daisywords, @boundedsea, @full-on-sam, @writernopal, @ashen-crest, @surroundedbypearls

[scripted-downfall]

One of the things that pisses me off most about Sam freaking Winchester is his tendency to claim the title of "the emotionally aware one" or "the empathetic one", ostensibly "try" to help someone only when it's convenient for him, and then turn around and revoke or rescind that help the second it's not.

This happens a number of times, but some examples include:

s02e09 Croatoan: "No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit." followed by Dean telling him about John's last order (complete with Dean actually begging him to lie low for a bit) and Sam directly contravening that by leaving in the middle of the night (when he knew it'd hurt Dean to not know where his brother was, thus making the weight he was carrying worse) in s02e10 "Hunted"

The aftermath of Hell??? Like sir, wtf??? s04e08 "Wishful Thinking" has "Dean, look, you can't just shoulder this thing alone. You got to let me help." and then, when he finally tells Sam about Hell in s04e10 "Heaven and Hell", "Dean… Dean, look, you held out for 30 years. That's longer than anyone would have." And then there's Sam in s04e14 "Sex and Violence" going: "You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in hell. Boo hoo." (Yes, I know that the second quote was under the influence of the siren's drug, but the whole point is that it was exposing inner thoughts, so. Still counts.)

Every episode touching on the Gadreel business. Going from s08e14 "Trial and Error" ("I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it.") to s09e13 "The Purge" ("I was ready to die. I was ready. I should have died, but you… You didn't want to be alone, and that's what all this boils down to. You can't stand the thought of being alone.")

This is kinda a part of the last bullet point, but there's a backwards example in Dean's subsequent death... Sam pulls out the s09e13 "The Purge" "No, Dean. I wouldn't. Same circumstances…I wouldn't." line because he wants to hurt his brother, and yet, the second things go wrong, he wants to take it back: "What happened with you being okay with this?" "I lied. (s09e23 "Do You Believe in Miracles?")

And there are more, but these are just the prominent examples that spring to mind now. I might add more if I come up with them, though.

And, to me, this is really bad. Because Sam knows that he's inflicting serious damage, and seems to actively want to do so. (All of the above were examples chosen precisely because they're examples of Sam consciously having "made an effort" to help Dean with a certain issue/fear/concern, and then throwing that very thing back in his face to win a battle.)

And, like... it's great that he's willing to try and help when the situation is rosy. But it really doesn't help that he sets it up as something that can be taken away at a moment's notice. Especially given that this is precisely what their father did: give positive reinforcement only when something was going his way, and pull it away again or use it as a weapon whenever his will is challenged.

And the amount of damage that's bound to do to Dean... I mean, he already spent his whole childhood and adolescence being told that he only mattered in relation to his usefulness, his ability to follow listen to orders, his willingness to accept other peoples' ways of running things without complaint, etc. His feelings? His emotions? His hopes for the future? Oh, those don't matter. And then here's Sam. And Sam... Sam acts like John was wrong. Sam says that a lot. And Sam's the smart one. So Dean maybe (maybe) lets himself believe that. It's hard, and he doesn't always buy it, but he gets a little bit better at it. But the second he pisses off Sam? All those statements about him deserving better --- about how Dean (how everyone) had an innate right to be treated in certain ways, judgements of worth aside --- fly out the window. Then, the fact that he dared to actually presume that he deserved something more is all the more ludicrous because even the person who's been helping him sees how damn worthless he is. And the whole cycle repeats over and over again through the series, until it's this jagged zig-zag that is likely hell on his mental state.

(See below the cut for a personal anecdote that I feel is relevant to this/gives insight to it. It's very me-oriented, though, and I feel kinda selfish for including it, so I'm leaving it as optional. Don't click if you don't wanna see it. No trigger warnings to my knowledge or anything; it's just not solely fandom.)

I always knew I hated Sam for this, but I'd never actually put it into words. And then, recently, something similar happened in the middle of a conflict with a friend. My head often isn't friendly, and I had a friend who helped with that. He was one of a small subset of people I could rely on to help me with certain issues. He was one of my closest friends at the time, and he knew a lot that I've only told about one or two other people. And then we get into a fight and I receive a full two paragraph rant about how horrible I am, tearing into exactly the stuff I've told him I'm concerned about, everything that he'd at least tried to help me with, etc. And I feel worse than I ever did before because even he had given up on me.

And this wasn't my brother. This was someone I trusted, yes, but we'd still not known each other for anywhere near as long as Dean's known Sam. I've not sacrificed nearly as much for him as Dean has for Sam. I've certainly not built my whole life around his esteem the way Dean has for Sam. So if this is how I feel... what does that say about Dean?