#yesterday she couldn’t understand why my grandfather was dead and who wanted him dead

[laikinz]

last two days have been so.. umm a lot they’ve been a lot

[whatshername-please]

Out of the Water - Chapter VI

Synopsis: You were very proud to be a mermaid, thank you very much. You didn't want to be where the people were. Actually, you'd rather avoid it. Defending the merfolk was the biggest goal in your life... well, it was until you meet a certain pirate... it seems that your family really had a thing for humans, after all. Not that you'd ever admit it...

Word Account: 4875

Part 6 of ?

Pairing: Harry x reader (he is not in this chapter, sorry)

 Warnings: Some cuss words and underage drinking. 

A/N: English isn't my first language, so I'll probably mess up some tenses, grammar and stuff. Go easy on me, please. Feedback is always appreciated

Masterlist here

                                                      ---------

"I'm never, ever setting foot on shore again, grandpa will have to find another diplomat because I quit!" you announced very eloquently to the only merman in the room: your brother who, on the other hand, was trying to make you help him with his summer homework.

"Yeah sure, it's not like you say this every time you come back from Auradon or anything" he didn't even bother looking up from his essay "Who won the battle of the Irish Sea?"

"But this time is true, they made it personal" you grumbled, swimming back and forth impatiently.

"They always do..." he said absently, knowing very well it was pointless to try to reason with you when you were having an outburst "Was it the Kappas?"

Ok, no matter how pissed you were, you could not have your own brother messing up the Water Kingdom's History like this, so you sat by his side and took the paper from his hand.

"Let me see this" you corrected him, perusing through the essay he wrote "Not the Kappas. The selkies won after the kelpies joined their side."

"I know you're sad..." Nereus said after a while, eyes filled with concern.

You sighed and put the essay down.

"I'm not..." you began, but he interrupted you before you could come up with some excuse.

People believing that you were angry and cranky was one thing, but Neptune forbid anyone to know you've got a heart.

"Yes, you are! It's been almost a week since you went to Auradon and I've never seen you so off. Yesterday Aethra said she couldn't wait until she was old enough to go to the surface and you didn't even roll your eyes. Last year, when Ogen spoke the same thing, you made a complete speech of why life under the sea is much better than anything humans have to offer, you had slides and everything."

He squeezed your hand gently and offered you a supportive smile.

"Even Aqua noticed how quiet you are… Please don't tell her I'm telling you this, but she said she prefers you ranting to this silence."

"I doubt" you let out a breathy chuckle.

The presence of your brother was comforting so you allowed yourself to let your guard down and lay on his lap while he stroked your hair. Both of you stayed a while like this, each one absorbed in your own thoughts. Yes, it had been almost a week since everything had happened and you still had nightmares about that; the look on Harry's face when he said Ben was just going to throw them all back inside the Isle would hunt you forever.

Truth be told, you swam next to the barrier a couple of times, but the only things you saw were seaweed, rocks, some weird looking fish and a dead goblin. It wasn't like you could ask someone to tell Uma you'd be expecting her and, even If you could see her, what would you do? People inside the barrier could not hear anything from the outside, and again, even if they could, what would you tell her? How sorry you were? That it wasn't fair? Uma didn't need anyone saying what she has known all her life.

You were torturing yourself, feeling your stomach turn on itself with guilty when your grandfather glided into the room. Both of you and your brother stood up, showing respect to the king of the seas.

"May I talk to you for a moment, my dear" he pointed to you and your brother took his belongings and left the room, he whispered a "good luck" as he passed by you and swam off.

"Yes, grandpa?" your chest filled up with hope that your grandfather had spoken to Ben and made him change his mind about the Isle.

However, it was only wishful thinking because the reality was way crueler than whatever you could have imagined.

"About tomorrow…" he started.

Oh no! Ben and Mal's engagement party was tomorrow, but you had already decided you weren't going, no matter how hard your grandfather or anyone tried to convince you to.

You couldn't stand the idea of having to smile to them while all you wanted to do was to scream and cry. How could you pretend that everything was okay when nothing was? The hypocrisy made you sick.

"I won't go" you told him, you even tried to use your 'heiress of the throne' tone, but of course the current king of Atlantica wouldn't fall for that.

"You're the diplomat between the human kingdom and the water kingdom" he reminded you, his expression turning as serious as his voice.

"Was" you corrected him "I quit".

That little voice inside your head was telling to stop defying your grandfather. He could be very understanding of some things (like you still didn't believe he knew about Uma all the time and didn't lose it), but he also had plans for you that required you to be Atlantica's representative, because, accordingly to your grandfather and mother, no one would defend the water kingdom's interests better than you.

Actually, that was their way of saying "We don't want to deal with this and since one day you'll have to rule, it's better that you know what to do. Also, we don't want the fish eaters thinking that we hate them".

But, being honest, your grandfather liked humans now as much as he did in the past; the only difference was that he learned how to tolerate them.

Anyway, the truth was: Auradon wasn't as great as people wanted to believe. In theory, having all kingdoms unified was a superb idea, but in practice most of places were losing their own cultural identity, adapting their traditions and habits to fit in Auradon's new rules. If your grandfather had followed all King Beat's proposals 20 years ago, Atlantica would have become a tourist attraction for humans.

It wasn't like King Triton didn't want to be more engaged in Auradon society, but he was afraid to lose the independence of the merpeople. Thus, he hoped that when you assumed the throne, you'd have a better foreign policy than he had without giving up Atlantica's culture and pride.

He looked at you and his piercing glare went right through your soul...

King Triton, intimidating? No, not at all.

"This is not just the King and Queen's engagement party, but also your friend's"

"But grandpa..." you cried out.

"I won't hear it" he raised his hand to show that his decision was final and he wouldn't hear anything else.

You tilted your head back and groaned, if you couldn't talk yourself out of this, you could very well show your dissatisfaction.

"Glad we came to an agreement" he gave a pleased smile like he always did when his wishes were fulfilled and, as he swam past you, he patted your hair "And you might end up having fun"

You rolled your eyes and lay on the floor, defeated. You don't know how long you stayed there, contemplating your misfortune, when suddenly you felt something walking on your tail; you craned your neck and saw Sebastian staring back at you.

"Traitor" you murmured.

"Being in the human world is never my choice. Your grandfather asked me to" he explained, sliding down to your side and you turned over to have a better view of him.

"No one likes to be there, so why do I have to go?"

"For the same reason I had: your grandfather is the king. But I didn't come to discuss the fairness of life" his words caught your attention and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Sebastian seemed a little anxious: he looked side to side and beckoned to you to get closer and, when you did, he said in a muffled and rushed voice:

"You know Derek? That lobster? Yesterday, he was near the northern part of the barrier and saw a girl with teal hair there... even better, he said it was the second time he spotted her there by sunset"

Before you could refrain yourself, you picked the crab up, holding him on the palm of your hand. There was no use in denying that you knew Uma because Sebastian had followed you in Auradon and was aware that you and the sea witch's daughter were friends.

"What?" you practically yelled and your whole body shivered with joy for knowing that Uma had been looking for you "Are you sure?"

"Yes" he confirmed "I thought it could lift your spirit up "

"Sebastian it did! I'm going there now" you stood up in a heartbeat, but before you could make your way to the Isle, Sebastian called you.

"If you go there now, King Triton will think you're avoiding the engagement party" he remarked reasonably.

Damn it, he had a point

"Why don't you go tomorrow after greeting King Ben and his future queen?" He suggested, eyeing you innocently, but you saw right true his intentions.

The only reason he told you about Uma was to give you a boost of encouragement to go to Auradon again, this way you would be excited for the party and wouldn't complain too much about being there.

He was a clever crustaceous.

Well, it worked, at least now you could pretend you were having fun, whereas what you were really looking forward to was seeing Uma again.

"Deal" you hold out your hand and you he shake it to seal the deal.

Even if the party was dreadful, the perspective of meeting Uma again was pretty motivating. You should have asked if Derek saw someone else with her, it was weird but you wouldn't mind seeing Harry again.

_____________

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm going back there"

Talking to Sebastian got you very excited; however, now that you really had to go, you were having second thoughts about it.

You didn't have to attend to any human gathering to go to the barrier; you could very well wait in Atlantic until sunset.

"Why can't grandpa send someone who actually wants to be there? Aqua wouldn't mind, or April or Adryan..." you whined - any of your cousins would gladly go to Mal and Ben's engagement, but of course you were the one your grandfather insisted on.

Nereus, who tried to fix your hair in a new style, hummed blankly to show he was listening.

"I'm feeling sick... Grandpa can't make me go if I'm sick" you turned your face to him and he casted an annoyed look at you before going back to applying pearls in your hair.

"You already used that one not to go to the Royal Cotillion" he reminded you, turning your head forward impatiently when you tried to look at him again.

"But I was sick" you protested, earning an amused glare from him "I was sick of human's bullshit".

He burst out laughing.

"I don't think our grandfather will consider it a good reason to skip this ball" he said after regaining his composure.

"Well, at least I'll be closer to the Isle" you mumbled to yourself, but Nereus heard you.

"Why? What will you do?" he stopped what he was doing and sat on the dressing table, staring at you "Please, don't tell you plan on bringing the barrier down by yourself".

"I don't have the power to do it… You know I've tried" you joked and thankfully, Nereus played along.

"You don't need power, use your head... I mean... it is very hard. I'm pretty sure if you swim fast enough you can make a whole in the barrier"

You punched him playfully and got up.

"Hey, I didn't finish your hair" he called out.

"But I have to go, otherwise I won't arrive in time" you explained, grabbing your comb and placing it between the shells and pearls your brother had adorned your hair with.

Of course, the truth was you weren't leaving because you didn't want to be late, but because your brother was smart enough to figure out that you were up to no good.

"Wish me luck" you hugged him.

"Good luck!" he kissed your cheek and with that, you left.

Your mother told you to be kind and not to forget the manners she taught you, your grandfather said how proud of you he was and even asked if you didn't want to take his royal carriage, to which you denied politely.

You rather swam by yourself and if you were going to the Isle after the party, a carriage pulled by dolphins would be hard to go unnoticed.

You bid goodbye and took the path towards Auradon. The City wasn't close to Atlantica, but years of comings and goings made you an expert and you were able to arrive there in a very short time. Also, fins were so much faster than legs, which made the travel easier.

In other circumstances you'd have stopped to talk to many friends that lived nearby, but a little mantra was echoing in your mind "The faster you get there, the faster you leave. The faster you get there, the faster you leave" - you didn't mean to stay more than the necessary; after all. Your grandfather told you to go to Auradon, but he didn't say how long you had to staythere.

Besides, Sebastian said Uma was seen at the barrier by sunset, but what if she decided to go earlier?  You were going to be there one hour in advance for precaution.

Although magic was highly discouraged, there was no other way for the merpeople to become human without it. That's why a magical necklace was given to any mermaid or merman who wanted to venture themselves ashore.

Those necklaces weren't given away easily, though. In order to acquire one, you had to fill a formulary explaining why you needed it and it had to be accepted by King Ben and King Triton themselves. It was very bureaucratic and the only reason this process had to be done was because King Beast declared all magic should be banished so you could not hand around magical objects freely.

However, since you were a royal diplomatic, they made an exception.

Call it privilege.

One good thing about those necklaces was that King Triton made sure that once you went through the transformation, clothes would magically appear to. It was a huge improvement since your aunt Ariel had gotten her own legs from her deal with Ursula; imagine how would it be if you had to walk around naked until you find something to wear.

At least the merfolk didn't have to worry about that anymore. So, once you got on the beach and turned into human you had on a beautiful dress that matched the shells your brother chose to decorate your hair.

It wasn't as pretty as your tail and fins, though.

You headed to Auradon Prep because the party would be held near the school (why they were so obsessed by this place was beyond your comprehension). When you finally arrived, everyone was already there, talking and having fun.

Thankfully, your cousins that lived in Auradon weren't hard to find and rushed towards them - you couldn't help but notice that, as you got closer, they exchanged money between themselves.

"What's going on?" you asked, intrigued by what you just saw.

"Nothing" Arabella answered "What a lovely dress you're wearing. How is gramps doing?".

She changed the topic way too fast, which made your curiosity grow, but you decided to ignore it for the time being.

"He is fine. He misses you a lot and says you should visit us more often. I can't understand Bella, why do you prefer being here among sweaty humans?"

"Do you ever change the subject?" she complained, rolling her eyes "This is a party and I refuse to deal with your bullshit today"

"Maybe tomorrow, then!" you fired back and she voiced her discontentment with an exasperated shriek.

"Why are you like this?" she said before flouncing off, bouncing her hair as she did so.

"What did I do?" you asked Ella, who had been quiet up to that moment, and she chuckled.

"I miss this" she said, pointing to you and the crowd.

"You're the only one"

"It wouldn't hurt if you came to visit us once in a while, you know" she looked up, her hopeful smile made her eyes crinkle and you mirrored her expression, smiling too.

Ella was Ariel's younger daughter and, even though you didn't see her as much as you would like, she was probably your favorite cousin; she was kind and outgoing, which was a good counterpoint to your not so affable nature.

Before you could reply, one of the merfolk who attended Auradon Prep joined you both, he gave you a little bow and handed your cousin some money. You waited for him to leave before question her about it.

"Ella, what's happening?" your tone made clear you wouldn't take a "nothing" for an answer.

The girl sighed, knowing it was a lost battle.

"Maybe there is a bet going on…" she told you, voice trailing off.

You raised an eyebrow, face turning stoic and you feigned boredom.

"Does it involve me?"

"Well, some people didn't believe you'd show up today after the whole Audrey fiasco" she glanced at you out of the corner of her eye and, when you didn't say anything, Ella went on "We made a bet: everyone believed you wouldn't appear, you know. I was the only one who knew you'd be here and now I'm making a lot of money."

She showed you the amount she had already won and it was kind of impressive. It seemed that half of Auradon was sure you hated the human world.

They were right.

Okay, not hate. It was a great dislike.

"I can't believe you thought I'd come" you said without hiding the indignation in your voice and a little offended that your own cousin didn't know you better.

"C'mon. I knew you wouldn't want to, but I was certain grandpops wouldn't give you much of a choice, so even against your will - and I know you must had protested a lot - you'd be here today"

Your cousin was kind, yet cunning, and that was why she was your favorite.

"I'm impressed" you clapped, nodding your head slowly as you did so.

"I know. I'm amazing" she teased and then, her expression became concerned "How are you, by the way? I've heard they will close the barrier forever"

You whined, for one moment you had forgotten about how you failed the Isle and Uma. First you were angry at Mal and Ben, but now? Now you wanted blood... not literally, but you were kind of mad.

"I've been better... you just remind me I had to wish Ben and Mal my best regards in the name of Atlantica."

"Okay, see you later" she cheered and added on for precaution "Try to be polite, please"

When she asked you that, the memory of Sebastian, your mother and grandfather pleading you to be civil in this party echoed in your mind.

What did they think of you? That you were a mannerless monster?

You were very well educated, thank you very much, but didn't waste your good manners on people who didn't deserve it.

"Can't make any promises" you laughed off, disappearing into the crowed to find the King and Mal.

You didn't have to look for them for long as a mass of people was surrounding the fiancés to be while they thanked everybody for coming to their party. They seemed so merry and pleased whilst their subjects wished them all the happiness of the world. People in Auradon were just so fucking good and gracious, weren't they?

Hypocrites.

You had a plan, though.

1- Smile.

2- Greet.

3- Leave.

It was simple, short, and impossible to mess up.

Smile, greet, leave, smile, greet, leave. You kept repeating it like a mantra as you approached them.

For one moment their cheerful expressions froze and their eyes widened to the size a saucer, but they recomposed themselves quickly enough. Either they were surprised to see you there or they were afraid you were going to snap.

But you wouldn't snap.

You had a plan.

"Your Majesties" you smiled, bobbing a curtsy to them.

1 - Smile. Check.

They saluted you, asking how things were back in Atlantica and the conversation was brief and polite, like it should be.

"In the name of Atlantica I wish you both prosperity and wisdom to rule, and that your life is filled with great joys"

You said that in a very diplomatic tone that could have fooled anyone.

2 - Greet. Check

They thanked you and you made your exit.

3 - Leave. Che...

"And…" you turned back with a spin.

Screw the plan; you didn't sell your voice to a sea witch, so you may as well use it.

"Speaking for me, I really want you both to be happy. I mean, someone has to, right? Considering that you doomed thousands of people to a life of suffering just so you could have your perfect happily ever after without any inconveniences"

Then, you left.

One day you'd be all diplomatic and shit, but that day wasn't today.

And, to be fair, you've tried to be reasonable for years and all you got was "Oh sorry, we can't let anyone off the island. It's not that simple, this would require lots of planning and social reintegration, but we will take this matter into consideration in the future...". That's why you started speaking your mind: even if didn't change anything, at least it wouldn't leave a bitter taste in your mouth for not saying your real opinion.

Yeah, your grandfather really should reconsider who he sent to land for affairs of state.

Whatever, just a few more hours and you'd be making your way to the barrier to see Uma.

You were trying to find your cousin again when Audrey intercepted you, looking rather tense.

"Hey" she greeted you but without meeting your eyes.

Audrey seemed to have taken a strange interested in her hands, which she wringed unsteadily, you noticed.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for.. you know... cursing you and your family..." she said, voice shaking a little.

Oh! So Audrey was a nervous wreck to talk to you, how amusing. It boosted your ego but you weren't that mean.

"Relax, Audrey. It's all forgiven" you put her mind at ease.

She let out a breath and her face brightened up.

"But" you offered her a smile that slowly fade into a severe frown "If you do it again I'll make you wish for something as sweet as sleeping for 100 years".

It was clearly a joke but Audrey didn't get it as she excused and made herself scarce in seconds.

"You know... if you want people to understand when you are joking, you shouldn't keep a straight face"

You jerked your head to face Jay, who handed you a glass with a purple liquid in it.

"I wasn't that intense" you took a sip of the drink, it was way too sweet for your salted water taste, and you were pretty sure that it was alcoholic too.

Well, maybe alcohol was the key to survive this party.

"C'mon! You were like this" he mimic you, making quite a murderous expression. Then, resuming his neutral expression, he added "You are like the sea'.

That was new… but you weren't sure about what he meant by that.

"I'm salty and I scare people?" scrunching your face up in confusion.

It took some good minutes for Jay pull himself together.

"I was going to say imposing and beautiful, but that too" he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

You couldn't help but crack a smile and, since you didn't think of a good answer (which was very unusual), you took another sip of whatever beverage that was.

Fortunately, Jay didn't notice how embarrassed you were by his compliment and changed the topic soon after.

"So, how ar..."

"Stop right there" you warned him, holding your finger up.

"What?" the VK's brows burrowed in confusion but deep inside he was afraid that he had said something wrong.

"I know this face." you explained "Every time people ask how I am, they do this pitiful face and I can't have that... not from you…".

It was painful how most people assumed that you were miserable because of last week events. Okay, you were sad and pissed but gosh, you hated that condescending attitude.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay" he didn't seem offended by your words, but the atmosphere between you two grew colder and awkward.

Great, of all people you could have snapped at today, you did it to Jay.

Now, you were sad, pissed and stupid.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to be rude" you apologized "If you really want to know, I'm a mess. The only reason I didn't cry this whole week was because I live under water, but if you tell this to anyone, I'll deny it".

"It's going to be our secret then" Jay stroked your arm  to show support "You really care about the Isle, don't you?"

You shrugged, not knowing what to say to him. Yes, you cared about the Isle and the people there; it was hard to explain the reason, though.

Maybe another time…

"By the way, I wanted to ask you this..." he cooed and if you hadn't been so busy with that drink, you'd have seen the mischievous gleam in his eyes "Did Uma and you already know each other, by any chance?"

You choked.

Hard.

Jay went to your aid quickly and helped you to recover, slapping your back lightly.

A mermaid choking on a liquid, what a joke.

"No..." your voice cracked and it wasn't because you're still faint "Why would you think that?"

"Well…" he began, but was cut off soon after.

Thank goodness,  Mal and Ben announced they would start their pronouncement and Jay joined his former friends. All people gathered under the balcony where the Royal Family stood proudly, and everybody was eager to hear the news their King and Queen would say.

It was difficult to hear one's thoughts over the cheering and acclamation. However, since you didn't share their happiness, you stayed away from the commotion, enjoying your sweet drink.

Ben started his speech, of course he was very pleased to have Mal as his queen and everyone was happy.

Everyone, except the people on the Isle, of course.

You scoffed so loudly that if people hadn't been hearing Ben's speech, they would have heard you. Subsequently, the king proposed a toast to Mal and you wondered if it would be rude to ignore it.

Everything would be so much easier if your grandfather had made your brother the diplomat of Atlantica, considering he was a people pleaser like you would never be.

Well, it wouldn't hurt to raise your glass, so you did it... very discretely.

For everyone's surprise, Mal announced she couldn't be Queen of Auradon, causing a wave of gasps and murmurs from the puzzled crowd.

Really? Were they really surprised? Like, Mal was a drama queen, she just needed an emotional solo or Evie knocking some sense into her head for her to change her mind.

Unless it involved the Isle of course, then she didn't care to condemn them forever, you thought bitterly.

Yep, you were salty enough to cause hypertension in every single soul in Auradon.

However, you did not expect, not even in your wildest dreams, what followed next. Actually, even after years, you'd still remember that day and think "what the hell just happened". If people were shocked when Mal said she couldn't be queen, they nearly had a stroke when she brought down the barrier. It wasn't like she let just the villain kids off, she destroyed the barrier, and everyone was free.

As a personal note, you observed how fast Ben changed his discourse from "We can't get the merfolk off the Isle without consequences, we need preparation, meetings, plans..." to "Ok, my bae wants to bring down the barrier and I won't argue with her. So yeah, let's do it".

Not that you were complaining but, had you known that it only took a love potion for Ben do what you wanted, you'd have done it.

Wow! What a wild thought to have...

Maybe you were getting a little drunk...

But the barrier came down so, whatever...

You looked at King Beast's face and he was about to pass out any moment, but other than that, everyone seemed very excited to meet the villains.

It wasn't like a minute ago they didn't give a damn about the people there or their fate.

Well, maybe that was Auradon's magic: one moment you hated each other, in the next you were all singing and dancing on a bridge.

You finished your drink in one go, because that was going to be a party to remember.

[ingeniouscollectionthing]

If you were alive again… (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Part 1

Request: Any chance I could request something for Tom Riddle x Ghost! Reader? It starts off with Tom manipulating her for info and the Reader just liking being noticed, but then Tom falls for her and tries to find a way to bring them together. Could end in fluff or smut, whichever works best for you!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Hogwarts' astronomy tower was engulfed in the beautiful silver streams of light provided by a rich full moon, which hung high up in the night sky - pitch black, lightened up by countless glimmering stars.

A sole silhouette of a girl, no older than sixteen, could be found sitting on the railing, gazing into the seemingly never ending darkness. A crisp cold wind blew by, but she - or shall one say - You couldn't be bothered. You couldn't feel it - for you were dead.

A mere shadow of what you once have been, a young and talented student who has walked along the many corridors of this very school a long time ago. Once you have been a proud member of house Slytherin, younger sister of the famous Gellert Grindelwald - the very same who transported you into the unloving hell of the living dead for the sake of power, although you always supported him in everything he did.

He was an ungreatful, despicable, pathetic bastard, taking for granted what laid right in front of his eyes. And when he finally rose to power he lost sight of the things dearest to him - fighting his very best partner Dumbledore and killing you in a fit of rage.

Merlin forsake these Deathly Hallows, which brought out the worst in all wizards and witches who tried to conquer them.

Footsteps sounded behind, but you didn't need to turn around to know who visited at this hour.

Tom was his name, a handsome boy dare you say, quite charming and intelligent. He has been visiting you for a few weeks now, engaging you in deep conversations about anything. More than often you talked about your brother, realizing soon that this boy resembled him in more ways than one. Tom himself had ambitions about making magical beings the superior race, killing all those unworthy of using witchcraft. And as you did with your brother, you also shared his oppinion.

"Good evening, Lady Grindelwald", Tom said, now standing by your side, hands behind his back.

"Tom, my dear, what brings you here tonight?" you questioned, turning to look at him.

"I just wanted to see you. How are you feeling today?"

You looked back out into the night sky, smiling slightly, as you quite liked the attention you recieved by him.

"Alright, I believe. I've been reminiscing about the days where I didn't feel as numb as I do today".

A pang of guilt hit Tom in the chest, making him furrow his brows in confusion. He was so close to getting the information about the famous elder wand he so eagerly wanted, as it was lastly known as the wand of your brother. With the stone of resurrection, currently possessed by his very own uncle, whom he wanted to kill within the next few days, along with his grandfather, he'd gain umimaginable power.

He didn't know why he felt that way as he looked at your emotionless expression, you were useless to him in any way. He couldn't define, why he almost felt eager to come visit you every night.

'I'm sure it's because I'm so close to my goal', Tom thought - at least that's what he tried to tell himself. Tom never felt this way. To be fair, he didn't think he could. But still he found himself loving the hours he had with you, he loved your presence.

All he said was,

"I understand how you must feel. I too haven't felt anything remotely close to emotion since the day I have been left at the doorstep of that despicable orphanage". Lies.

For the thirst time ever, Tom showed sympathy. He almost gagged at his behaviour.

"I still can't believe I'm the only one you ever told the story about your life. I can imagine that you must have quite many friends, Mr. Popular", you laughed for the first time in years, a slight twinkle awakened in your eyes.

Tom didn't notice. Lies.

He wondered what colour your eyes were, for colour was nowhere to be found in your ghostly appearance. He wondered if they would shine in a bright blue or in a beautiful earthy brown. Or maybe they were a glimmering gemstone green.

If you were alive again..

Tom dismissed this thought. He didn't care about this, about you. He couldn't, he didn't want to. All he wanted was the missing information.

So he just shrugged his shoulders and replied,

"You're the only one I trust enough to know about this".

You sighed, the smile on your lips vanishing again. You loved being near him, but you knew deep down, that in reality - he wasn't here for you. Lies.

His next question confirmed your suspicions.

"Do you still remeber what we talked about yesterday?", Tom asked, now leaning next to you on the railing.

"The way Dumbledore is following your every move or the elder wand?", you mumbled, knowing where this would go.

"The second one would be correct, Miss Grindelwald. As i recall correctly, you said that your brother took it with him to Nurmengard".

"Tom", you sighed, now floating away from the railing to the opposite side of the tower. "I already told you that it would do you no good to infatuate yourself with this topic. You'd fulfill your dreams without it"

"(Y/N), you know I wouldn't use it, I promised you. I promised to destroy the very thing that is responsible for your death", Tom replied, again haunted by guilt. Lies again.

He has been trying to get this information out of you for quite some time now, but you never said a word. However you started to rethink your desicion, after all you thought you could trust him.. or could you? He was persuasive.

That you liked Tom was an understatement. You fell for him. How could you not? He was perfect in every way, he was powerful and he seemed proud in what he was doing. But would you really want him to become the very same thing your brother became? A power hungry monster? Would you be ready to witness, as another one of your loved ones got stuck in insanity?

You went back and forth in your conversation, him preassuring you and you reluctantly telling him more about what he wanted to know.

Finally you gave in, telling him about everything your brother gathered of knowledge about the deathly hallows. And how the elder wand was in fact in Dumbledore's possession, for it changed it's loyalty to the person, who overpowered the owner.

"So all this time it's been right before my eyes", Tom mumbled, tapping his nose. "Of course Dumbledore would have it". He got annoyed.

You cleared your throat, for you heard exactly what he said and as he turned to look at you, his heart, which he believed to be made from stone, missed a beat.

You were a true haunting beauty. Your face and body posture held a certain grace, drawing him in.

If you were alive again...

What if? Yes, what if you were alive again? Could you be his?

And his next question threw both of you off guard, for it was an action of instinct neither of you expected. It was an action of...could you call it love?

"Do you miss being alive? Do you ever miss being human?", Tom asked silently.

This was out of character for him, he never cared. Or did he now? Caring was a weak term for these unknown emotions inside him. Is this what people call love? Is he loving?

He watched you closely, as your eyes lost every twinkle. He felt bad again. He watched you, as your eyes dropped to the floor, as a small white thread of tears dribbled slowly down your silver cheek. He felt worse now.

Tom took a step near you.

"It would be my hearts deepest desire...to get back what has been taken from me so very early...", you whispered.

You looked at him again, a small sad smile gracing your lips. You shook your head.

"What if? Yes, what if you were alive again?". There was an edge of desperation to his voice now. For the first time ever, Tom Riddle's heart felt something. It beat in his throat. It felt pain, desire, angst and love all at once.

Another question out of instinct, maybe, dare I say it, out of love.

"Could you be mine then?"

And then you vanished.

What if? Yes, what if you were alive again? Could you be his?

[headinthe-fridge]

My Grandfather’s Lawyer (pt. 4)

⁂ – Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader –  ⁂

warning: nsfw, swearing

Summary: Your grandfather, Washijo Tanji, disowned your mother when she was pregnant with you and her hatred towards him was passed on to you. Now, your estranged grandfather wants you to leave your life in Tokyo and come live with him in his estate in the Miyagi Prefecture.

You took a day off and a 6-hour trip, intending to give him a piece of your mind before disappearing from their lives forever. You didn’t expect to see an ailing and fragile old man. Your day trip stretched into weeks and soon, you patched things up with your estranged family and warmed up to everyone -except to one: Ushijima Wakatoshi -your grandfather’s lawyer.

He thinks you have ulterior motives in reuniting with your grandfather.

You weren’t suppose to care what he thinks of you. His opinion didn’t matter.

But it did.

AN: OMG you guys are blowing up my notifs, sorry I couldn’t reply to each of you, I barely have time to linger in any socmed apps bc of work. BUT THANK YOU ALLL!! I Loooove you. I’m trying to make y/n as gender neutral as possible but not sure if i’m doing a good job. But yeah, heres part four!  💖💖

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"I hope you don't mind if I do most of the talking." Your grandfather started. 

"There are so many things that I want to tell you but I don't know where or how to start. He couldn't hide the sadness in his voice. Of that, you were sure. "I have a feeling that no matter how hard I try, you will stick to what you know -to what your parents told you.

"Your hostility today proved that I was right about my hunch, so that leaves me no other choice but to tell you everything. And to start, I want to explain the exchange of letters your mother and I had."

"L-letters?" Your brows scrunched in confusion.

"You mean you don' know that... well, I should have known better." His shoulders dropped. I know everything that happened with your family because of the letters your mother sent me, although, at that time, I don't know the reason why she did that so I never bothered to read those.

"It was only later that I realized why," He paused then added lowly. "That was to spite me, of course. She wanted to show me that even if your family isn't rich, you're all very happy. That even without the luxuries, you are complete and you love each other."

The old man looked up at you, his eyes glistening in tears. "Do you know that that hit me terribly? I was happy for her but I cannot admit to myself that I envy her. I envied your family's happiness. It was as if you had nothing to worry about in this world.

"I can't believe that my youngest daughter, my dear Noriko who got everything she wanted without even lifting a finger, my Norik who grew up in a wealthy household, chose to live a simple and plain life with her husband and child." Your gaze was fixated on your grandfather so you didn't miss it when he gently wiped a lone tear that fell down his cheek. You were astounded. You thought you were imagining things.

"But... but why didn't you help us when we asked?"

"It was too late when I learned of your mother's sickness, it was too late when I read the letters. But even if I knew early on, it was clear that she didn't want any of it. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't because I never knew where it was that you live, only that it was in Tokyo. It seemed she used a different address when she sent me those letters."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I don't expect you to believe me now, my dear y/n. But please don't close your heart and mind. Please give me a chance."

"But why now?" Your voice faltered, mind racing. Everything that your parents told you doesn't add up to what the old man said. What is even the truth? Who lied? Was it your parents? But why would they do that? No, they wouldn't.

"It's hard to explain, y/n, but please understand that I'm just a father who loved his daughter greatly. I didn't approve of her relationship with your father because I thought he wouldn't be able to give the things she needed. When Noriko ran away with your father, I was devastated."

You shook your head fervently. "N-no, I don't believe you, you're just saying that because yo-"

Like I said earlier, I don't expect you to believe me." He cut you off then reached for a small brown box that rested on top of his bedside table. He offered it to you. 

"I hope that the contents of this box would ease away at least some of your hatred for your grandfather."

You took it with trembling hands. "What's this?"

"You'll know once you open it but if you may, please do that when you're back in your room. And return that box to me, please, as soon as possible. What's inside of that box are more than just treasures."

Your grandfather's crest-fallen expression only heightened your confusion. "You may go now. Your old man is tired and in need of rest." -- With swollen, red eyes, you blinked the tears away to clear your vision. You tried to contain your sob as you placed the letters back inside the box. It was your mother's letters for your grandfather.

you briefly wondered why your mother even bothered to write these letters when half of them were full of hatred and anger for her father.

But at the same time, you couldn't blame her. Aside from loving your father so much, she also had her own principles and greatly values her dignity. Plus, the fact that your grandfather disowned her also terribly hurt your mother.

Your head spun. You somehow felt ashamed of yourself; how you acted earlier, and all the things you said to your grandfather.

But then again, none of that matters now. There was also nothing you could do to change what happened in the past so you decided to only bother yourself with the present, with what needs to be done now.

For a long period of time, you paced around the confines of your room but instead of coming up with a plan of action, it only made you tired. You let out a deep sigh before laying on the futon. The best thing you could think of right now is to sleep through it and silently hope for everything to be okay tomorrow. ---- You woke up the next morning with a heavy heart. What happened last night still vividly replayed in the forefront of your mind, as if it happened only seconds ago. You could still hear the deep longing and sadness in your grandfather's voice, the anger in your mother's letters, and your hostility towards him.

Now that you knew the truth, staying here would be too much.

Groggy and groaning, you willed yourself to get up from the futon and prepare to leave. You glanced at the wrinkled clothes that you wore yesterday, you were only gonna wear it during the trip so that will do.

You were all set when your eyes landed on the small brown box. You needed to return it to your grandfather, the letters are important to him.

The heaviness in your heart alleviates. Despite the harsh and hurtful words your mother wrote in those letters, your grandfather still kept them and considered it more than treasures. You picked it up from the chabudai. You're going to say goodbye as soon as you return it to him.

It would be better to go back to Tokyo. To go back to your previous life before you met your long lost family. Yes, it would be best to go back to Tokyo and forget everything that happened for the past 24 hours. Now may not be the time but you hoped that your relationship with your grandfather will take on a good turn. 

Someday. But not now.

As soon as you stepped out of your room, dead silence welcomed you. You made your way to your grandfather's quarters but the creeping silence got to you. Did you wake up too early or do the people in this house just stay in bed too late?

You shrugged away the thought when you arrived in front of the old man's room. You were about to call out to him when someone grabbed your wrist.

"Good, you're awake. You're really the reason why I quickly came back. Let's go." Your grandfather's lawyer declared at pulled you to god knows where. "Huh? Wait, where are you taking me?" You tried to pull your wrist away from Ushijima's grip.

"I will bring you to your grandfather. He's in the hospital right now and kept calling for you, so whether you like it or not, you're coming with me."

You unconsciously let yourself get dragged along. The moment you heard that your grandfather is in the hospital, worry filled every fiber of your being. 

You now fell in to step with him, his tall frame looming beside you. He still hasn't let go of your wrist. You looked up at him, his cold eyes met yours and you immediately looked down.

"What happened to him? And how is he?"

"If you really want to know then I suggest you ask him yourself." He said dryly.

His apathetic tone irked you a bit but you decided to keep your mouth shut. The ride to Sendai General Hospital was short and silent. His brooding and aloof demeanor didn't help in subduing your growing ire for him. But seriously what is his problem?

Part 5

Taglist: @thegrumpyhag​ @sushij1ma​ @valoryess​ @yakus-yakult​ @ly-nia​ @ushi-please​ @plutoglass @kokofirebangbomb​ @strawberryy-milkk @melanieacademy​ @defunkitatedmess​ @lunarknox​ @wtoshii​ @kyomihann​

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety Seven

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

October 12th, 2001

Remy laughed in the guy’s face, causing him quite a bit of confusion. “Girl, of course I’m gay!” he crowed. “Emile’s my boyfriend, duh? It’d be a bit weird if I weren’t into boys and he was my boyfriend. Now listen,” he purred. His smile was as cheery as ever as he leaned into the guy’s face. “You ever try and make Emile uncomfortable again and I’ll make your life a living hell, and I won’t hesitate to ruin your reputation. Understood?”

The guy paled, nodded, and scurried off. Remy smiled to himself and spit his gum into the nearest trash can. Playing the stereotypical gay had its perks. Namely, it made it all the more scary when he tore into someone, and it was a convenient mask he could always fall back on should something go wrong. Because he always knew how to play dumb and cute as hell. He could use this to his advantage, surely...

  March 28th, 2004

Remy’s grip on the steering wheel was tight as he drove the car towards Emile’s parents’ house. Emile was sitting in the passenger seat, trying to hide the fact that he was doing deep breathing exercises. Clearly, they were both nervous about seeing Emile’s grandfather again. Emile was nervous enough that he had gone to Mass earlier that morning, presumably in case his grandfather asked about the last time he went to Confession. Personally, Remy was fairly certain Emile had nothing to confess, but he wasn’t Catholic, so he wasn’t going to pretend to know.

Emile made a concerned whine as they got off the highway, and Remy took a deep breath, pushing as many homicidal tendencies as he was willing to out of the way to grab Emile’s hand with one of his own. Emile blinked, looked down at their intertwined hands, then over at Remy.

“You whined,” Remy said. “Like a kicked puppy. I was concerned.”

Emile blew out a breath. “Your tone suggests annoyed.”

“My tone is nonexistent because I’m incensed,” Remy said simply. “Not at you, though.”

“At my family? That’s kinda worse, Rem,” Emile said.

“Well, your grandfather certainly hasn’t endeared himself to me any,” Remy growled.

Emile flinched. “Rem, please,” he said softly.

Remy’s tone softened but his eyes didn’t leave the road. “I don’t want you dragged through the wringer, mio amore.”

“I volunteered,” Emile said weakly.

“Willingly? That’s kinda worse, mio amore,” Remy shot back. “What would Sue say about you willingly putting yourself in harm’s way?”

“Actually, Sue and I talked about this and the ways it could go after my panic attack,” Emile said, straightening in his seat. “She said that as long as I wasn’t going into this with the goal of hurting myself, then it was worth talking to Grandpa. How would Fern feel about you jumping to the conclusion that I’m doing this to hurt myself?”

“She would say it’s your choice,” Remy said. “But given the facts I told her... she also called you a bit of a hopeless romantic. And a dumbass. She also gave me full permission to drag you out of the room if I heard raised voices or crying.”

Emile blinked. “That’s why you asked?!”

Remy smirked, just a bit. “Well, she said her permission meant nothing if I didn’t get yours, too.”

Emile laughed in disbelief. “No wonder you took a shine to her; she’s enabling you.”

“Oh, no! No, she takes no one’s shit. That includes me, mio amore. No, she doesn’t let anyone pull the wool over her eyes, and she tells it like she is. She took one look at her notes, plus Kim’s when she got them, and looked me dead in the eye, promptly asking, ‘So, how long would you say the abuse has been going on?’” Remy laughed. “I love her so much. As a therapist, of course. I will not run off into the sunset with her. I’d prefer to do that with you, Emile.”

Emile shook his head, swallowing. “She sounds like a good therapist.”

“Yeah. What did Sue tell you? Beyond talking about possible outcomes, of course,” Remy said.

Emile blinked back tears. “She said...” Emile’s voice grew thicker. “She said...to be realistic. To not put all my eggs in the happy basket, because based on what she heard, and her past clients’ experience, this usually doesn’t shake out well.” Tears were falling down his cheeks and Remy pulled over to the curb in a flurry. “I don’t want him to be mad at me, Rem. I don’t.”

Emile sounded like such a lost little kid in that moment, that Remy couldn’t help but hug him close. “It’s gonna be okay,” Remy said. “Even if you don’t get the outcome you wanted. It’s gonna be okay.”

“How can you...be so sure?” Emile sobbed.

“Because I’ve been there, Emi,” Remy said. When Emile looked up at Remy, Remy’s heart broke, but he continued. “I’ve been there. And yeah, it hurts like hell if your family doesn’t accept you. I’ll be honest: even if your grandfather acknowledges you’re bi and I’m his grandson-in-law, odds are he won’t be happy about it. Take little victories where you can, and if he comes to the wedding? Great. Work on him being happy for us at a later date. He can grow to love the both of us together, but it will most likely take more time than just three months.”

Emile looked at Remy like he had all the answers in the universe, and Remy was a little terrified. “Now, your parents are expecting us, and we don’t want to keep them waiting too long. But if you need a second, or a minute, even...”

“Yeah,” Emile said softly, shamefully. “Yeah, I need a minute.”

“There’s no shame in that, understand?” Remy asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emile said dismissively.

“I’m serious here, Emile,” Remy said sternly.

Emile sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know,” he said. “But I can’t accept that right now.”

Remy nodded, opened the glove box, and passed Emile some tissues. Emile dabbed at his face while Remy flicked the channels on the radio. He would kill for some slow, smooth, jazzy song that he could slow-dance with Emile to, even if that was a tad impractical in the car.

When Emile had composed himself, Remy kept driving. He fiddled more with the radio, observed the same five restaurants that were staples in every city, and contemplated calling August at Sleep Easy to ask how things were going, just to stall the inevitable. But if Emile was ready, then Remy had to be ready, too. Remy was going to back Emile one hundred percent, even if he was a bit of a hopeless dumbass when he picked his battles.

Remy drove up to Emile’s parents house, but when he turned to Emile, he realized he may have wanted to make the drive longer. Emile was ash-white and shaking, staring at the house like it was on fire, and he was just told to run in without any protective gear to save two kids on opposite sides of the second floor. Remy unbuckled his seat belt, and put a reassuring hand on Emile’s arm. “You’ve got this,” he said softly. “I’ll go in first, you come in when you’re ready.”

Emile swallowed, nodded.

Remy mirrored the nod, looking far more confident than he felt as he stepped out of the car, onto the curb, and closed the car door. He leaned against the car a minute, observing the house. He never really had before, but then again, he never had reason to stall either. Remy popped a piece of gum in his mouth and kicked off the car, putting on that “flamboyant, unflappable gay” persona he used when he needed to pretend he couldn’t care less about what was going on.

His shoes sunk into the grass, but the front yard wasn’t a swamp. Remy dimly remembered Mom mentioning something about it raining yesterday, before they had gotten to the heart of their conversation about Emile and his grandfather...

“Look, Mom, I’m worried about him. Emile cares about him a great deal, and either his grandfather takes that for granted, or worse, he just doesn’t care. I don’t want Emile’s heart to be crushed come tomorrow.”

Mom had tutted and reassured Remy the best she could, but Remy could hear the doubt in her own voice.

Mom and Dad had come to the door to greet him, and he grinned, all big and flashy and fake, but he did pick his head up a little more as he saw them, and he noticed Dad’s smile relax a little bit as Remy straightened. Dad knew what he was doing, and Emile had no doubt warned Dad and Mom both about Remy acting off in defense of this well and truly anxiety-inducing situation.

He hugged them both with a laugh, sharing the usual pleasantries. Remy straightened and saw Emile’s grandfather standing behind them, and he pulled down his sunglasses, peering over them to glare at Emile’s grandfather. “You hurt Emile, my guy, and I’ll make you wish you had never been born, m’kay?”

As Emile’s grandfather twitched, Remy smirked inwardly, continuing to chew his gum. “Surely, you’re not the same... boyfriend Emile had at that Christmas?” Emile’s grandfather asked.

Remy laughed and took off his sunglasses, walking inside. “Oh, that’s me, sweets. I just don’t act nice around people who hurt my fiancé.”

Emile’s grandfather flinched at the word fiancé, and Remy grinned, all teeth. Good. Let him be uncomfortable.

“Remy,” Dad warned, and Remy turned to him, prepared to continue being snarky and sarcastic until he saw the warning look he was getting. The fight drained from him and he sighed. Dad put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’ve had similar hurts in the past, but there’s no need to go full feral right out the gate.”

Remy felt like he might pass out. “I guess you’re right. Forcing Emile out of the car before he’s ready because I instigated a fight would not leave a good impression.”

“No,” Dad agreed softly.

“Similar...hurts?” Emile’s grandfather asked.

“Well, yeah,” Remy said, swallowing his gum and sighing. “Not that it’s any of your business, but my mother came to my and Emile’s house, berating me and calling me slurs, exclaiming that I was going to Hell for being gay. So when you pull the same shit that manipulative, abusive witch pulled...well. Forgive me if I get a little twitchy.”

Emile’s grandfather looked mildly horrified, and wanted to say something, but Emile ran across the yard. “Remy! Remy!” he exclaimed. “I just realized you took that gum out of your pocket, please tell me Grandpa is still alive!”

“He is,” Remy said. The implied For now might as well have been verbalised.

“Okay,” Emile breathed, grabbing Remy’s hand. “Thank you. For, uh, not killing him on sight.”

“You didn’t do it to my parents, I figured you’re owed that same courtesy,” he said, glancing at Emile.

Emile’s grandfather flinched again. “Do you...truly see me as so abhorrent that I deserve to be killed?” he asked.

“I believe that those who hurt others shouldn’t be allowed around those they hurt,” Remy said, stepping closer to Emile. “And while we can argue about the morals behind murder all day, it is still illegal in the eyes of the law, and I’d like to be married to my fiancé outside of prison.”

“That doesn’t...answer my question,” Emile’s grandfather said.

Remy laughed hollowly. “All due respect, but Dad told me to pull the reins back on the hostility. If I told you what I truly think, I’m pretty sure we would fall right back into hostile territory.” Which was more or less a fancy way of saying yes, and everyone in the room knew it, as the temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

Emile’s grandfather gave Remy an unreadable stare. “Very well,” he said stiffly. “Given what you’ve said to me, I think it’s safe to presume that you would rather not deal with me. As such, I’d like to cut straight to the chase and speak to Emile. Alone,” he added, when Remy opened his mouth to speak.

Remy flushed red, but Emile squeezed Remy’s hand. Remy turned to Emile and silently asked, Surely, you don’t expect me to take this sitting down?

I’ll be fine, Emile said with a downward tilt of his chin.

Oh, like hell you will, Remy scoffed.

“Remy, that’s rude,” Emile said. “I can handle my own. I’ll be fine. Besides, you have permission from me and Fern, remember?”

That did make Remy feel marginally better, but not better enough to fully accept the situation. Mom walked up and gently pulled Remy away from Emile. “Let the boys have their discussion, Remy. Can you show me how to make one of your famous cups of coffee, provided we have the stuff that you use to make it?”

“You two, don’t touch my stove!” Dad squawked, following Mom as she dragged Remy to the kitchen. Remy watched as Emile’s grandfather awkwardly put a hand between Emile’s shoulder blades and together they walked to the living room.

[suki-schiffer]

Thoughts on Rule of Wolves

A compilation of my raw initial thoughts and feelings after reading Rule of Wolves by Leigh Bardugo, sequel to King of Scars, seventh book in the Grishaverse. I just finished reading Rule of Wolves (RoW) yesterday and wanted to get some of my unaltered thoughts and feelings on paper before they become influenced by rereads and by being exposed to others’ opinions. There’s little rhyme or reason to this, it jumps all over the place, I’m not taking the time to check spellings etc. also, spoilers.

I am probably evaluating all the Grishaverse (GV) books a little too harshly because I can’t help but compare them to the Six of Crows (SoC) series which were the first books from the GV that I read. The whole reason I picked up King of Scars (KoS) last year was because I wanted more of that joy I got from SoC, only when I started reading KoS did I realize that the GV books aren’t just set in the same universe but have intertwining plots and characters at which point I realized I’d ruined the Shadow and Bone (S&B) series for myself but I did go back and read that too even though it definitely would not have been something I would have picked up if it had no connection to the other books. The S&B series wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t my cup of tea, as it truly was a YA series with characters that were pretty one dimensional being driven by pure motives down a predictable plot. Many of these characters make a reappearance in KoS and RoW and while they have a bit more dimension to them now they are still too pure, too perfect, and my feelings about them from previous series still stuck.

I don’t like Zoya. I didn’t like her when I first read about her is SoC and I really hated her after reading S&B. Those feelings were hard to cast off when she becomes a slightly better person in KoS/RoW but the entire time I couldn’t help but think she was undeserving not just of being a main character but of being a member of the Grisha Triumvirate, of being Nikolai’s love interest, of that ridiculous amount of power, and of becoming Ravka’s queen. I felt like her “backstory” was rather forced to try to make us like her more. Like oh, how sweet, she has a secret garden with a plant for everyone she’s lost. She still came off as a bitch. I honestly still don’t know what drives her. In S&B first it’s her desire for power and beauty and the Darkling’s attentions then when her aunt is killed she joins Alina maybe for revenge? But other than Alina asking for her to be part of the Triumvirate I didn’t really know why she was in that role don’t know how or why she agreed to become Nikolai’s general, because she loved him? Or perhaps it’s because she’s still just power hungry wanting to lead the Grisha, wanting to lead the army, wanting to lead the nation?

Disregarding my feelings for Zoya, her power increase in KoS and RoW is ridiculous. How is it that she is the only Grisha (save perhaps the now dead saints) who can break down matter small enough to draw power from every order? You’re telling me that this girl manages to do this after a few weeks with Juris but people like Baghra or the Darkling who are hundreds of years old and significantly stronger and were actively trying to strengthen themselves couldn’t do this? Ilya Morozova, the Darkling’s grandfather, did all kinds of experiments, dabbling in merzost, how is it the Darkling, in all the years he spent waiting for a sun summoner, not at least dabble in the other orders in attempt to summon sun himself? If you were to rank characters by power on a scale of one to ten I would have said the Darkling was a ten but Zoya blows that scale out of the water when she becomes the dragon, a character this powerful just feels wrong. Not to mention she didn’t even really work for this power, she trains with Juris for a bit in the Fold and then makes his scales into fetters, there was no years of study and practice or meditation, no struggle, just bam! Power.

So yes, still don’t like Zoya and I think her character arc, if you will, decreased the quality of the book.

Again, I’m comparing things to SoC but in comparison RoW was rather predictable. There were definitely a few twists I didn’t see coming and a few questions that were left unanswered but with SoC I was constantly guessing at what would go wrong, what the new plan was, I was constantly on my toes. That constant guessing kept me interested, by comparison I was at times bored with this book, if I put a book down (mid-chapter even!) to scroll through Tumblr or watch Youtube videos or do something else for the sake of enjoyment before finishing that book that’s a sign it isn’t all that interesting, and that’s what I was doing with RoW.

It was just too predictable. Like oh no, the Darkling tricked you into meeting Alina and Mal, got his power back, and fled, who’d’ave guessed it? What’s this? Hanne ended up getting too much attention and might be forced to marry the prince, Rasmus, of Fjerda because of it? Ehri’s guards make another attempt on her life? Nikolai weasels his way out of marrying Ehri because his true love is Zoya, no way! Joran, this young Druskelle who is for some reason being punished by having to be Rasmus’ guard is the one who killed Matthias? Oh and why is guarding Rasmus a punishment when he could be the hope of getting Fjerda to end the war? Because he’s an abusive shit who hates feeling weak so he tries to make others feel weaker, didn’t see that one coming, nope, definitely not.

Now for a few of the things that surprised or confused me that I’m still sort of confused about. Let’s start near the beginning with the Fold suddenly, not so much as expanding as just, appearing in different places all over the world with seemingly no rhyme or reason. I didn’t really get how a pocket dimension existed within the Fold in the first place or how the saints got trapped in it but apparently breaking out of it allowed the Fold to take on a will of its own whereas it had previously been stable for hundreds of years. Also the Darkling not having any powers after leaving the Fold was confusing, I shouldn’t necessarily say “any” because he seemed to have been able to make subtle changes to Yuri’s body to make it look more like his own but I didn’t understand how his power could seemingly enter his body granting him control and consciousness but then he not have any power until he gets Mal and Alina’s blood (also wasn’t clear what he did with the blood, did he just have to touch it, did he stab all three of their hands so the blood mingled?). This just sort of felt unnecessary and that it was just a means to pull Alina et al back into the story.

In KoS it was implied that the use and existence of Jurda Parem was the reason Nikolai’s monster came back and the saints now had enough power to create miracles to entice them to the Fold and draw them into the pocket world, this theory is never mentioned again. Can you tell I’m just really confused about everything related to that pocket world?

Speaking of that interaction with Alina and co I was honestly hoping Yuri might have a bit more of a role in the story. Yuri had seemed sort of willing to let the Darkling use him as a vessel and Nikolai discovering he was still in there with the “there’s something in your beard” line didn’t clue me into the fact that there could be more to this because I assumed he was still on the Darkling’s side. But then he tries to warn Alina of what he’s about to do and I thought, oh, maybe he has second thoughts, maybe there’s going to be a fight now for control of the body and Yuri might be able to stop the Darkling from doing something sinister by fighting back at the right moment. Alas, he goes back to singing the Darkling praises. I get that Yuri is a bad guy but I still kind of felt bad for him, not enough to care about his wellbeing, at least not until the very end because as far as I’m aware Yuri was still in his body with the Darkling when the Darkling decided to have a bit of a redemption arc by condemning himself to an eternity of pain to close the Fold and keep it closed. As far as I’m concerned the Darkling deserves that fate, Yuri doesn’t.

Speaking of the Darkling taking control of another’s body another thing I was left wondering about happened in one of Nina’s earlier chapters when the new Wellmother from the convent Nina and Hanne had been at arrives at the Ice Court to accuse Hanne of worshipping the Saints instead of Djel. At the end of this chapter the Wellmother’s eyes are described as slate grey, I’ve only ever heard the Darkling’s eyes be described that way. I really thought that the Darkling was just pretending to be powerless and had actually developed a new power of taking over other’s bodies and he was just biding time by gathering intel and causing chaos this way, I thought this might have also been how he was creating the mini-Folds all over the world (look I know they had a Ravkan name that roughly translated to vampire but I’m not going back into the book to find the spelling and calling them vampires just... no). I was so concerned for Nina, here this woman is claiming to actually be part of the Ravkan spy network and that Nikolai needs her to get close to Demidov Lantsov. This order made no sense because Nikolai knew he wasn’t a Lantsov and the existence of another Lantsov doesn’t mean much, as long as the people think Nikolai is the legitimate son of the former king and queen then he outranks every other individual with Lantsov blood in terms of succession. Also if this were a legitimate request it seems like there would have been much easier and safer ways to communicate this than have someone come from across the country making false claims against Hanne that could put her under suspicion thus limiting Nina’s ability to move. I thought this was therefore some sort of trap to expose Nina, and potentially Hanne, and the fact that nothing came of it left me confused. We never see this Wellmother character again, Nina does not get exposed, when we get the Darkling’s POV in the second part of the book he mentions nothing of this encounter nor is it suggested that he actually has such a power.

I then thought perhaps if the Darkling survived and was now in Yuri’s body perhaps this was his mother, Baghra, come back to life as well. Then we get thrown a random line during one of the Darkling’s chapters where he mentions the existence of a half-sister that was also declared a saint that I don’t recall hearing about before this instance, in fact I’m pretty sure Baghra said something in the Spinning Wheel about only having one child because she didn’t want a repeat of what happened to her and her sister and that she didn’t even remember who Aleksander’s father was so if the Darkling knows of this half-sister we would assume it’s Baghra’s child. Apparently though this sister was referenced in the only GV book I haven’t read being Language of Thorns (just a side note RoW is said to be the seventh book in GV but if you include The Lives of Saints and The Language of Thorns it is actually the ninth). I could be wrong, maybe Baghra never said anything about her son being her only child, or maybe this is another case of Bardugo altering things between series. She did this with Nina’s backstory because in SoC when Matthias talks about courting her properly and having dinner with her family she said that she hadn’t seen them in years since she went to the Little Palace but in KoS and RoW she’s an orphan who grew up in an orphanage and doesn’t remember her parents. Point being, after that line I thought the Wellmother might have been the Darkling’s half-sister since she had claimed to have been a spy in Fjerda for thirteen years which would mean she’d been there since before the events of S&B, if that is true then it likely couldn’t be Baghra. I’m still hung up on this character though, for all the reasons outlined, yet the KoS series is over and she only made one appearance so maybe she just was a spy with slate grey eyes.

As mentioned previously I knew Nikolai wasn’t going to marry Ehri but I didn’t realize Genya and David were going to be the ones getting married, or maybe “renewal of vows” would be a better term. I’m perfectly content to have this come out of the blue, predictable can be boring, but then it started getting weird. I had just assumed previously that Genya and David had been married sometime between the end of the S&B series and the start of KoS as that’s when they start being referred to husband and wife (same with Nadia and Tamar) and I had no reason to believe it wasn’t the wedding they wanted. Then there’s mentions of them having a hasty wedding in Ketterdam and this just felt like yet another attempt to placate and garner hope in readers by referencing SoC. As far as I know David wasn’t in Ketterdam during the SoC series, he was the only one who stayed in Ravka, even if he was there and just wasn’t “on screen” I don’t understand why they would choose to get married then and there. And if not during the events of SoC then when? What reason did they have to both be in Ketterdam outside of the events of SoC and decide they couldn’t wait to have a proper wedding in Ravka? I was angry at this point because a similar thing was done in KoS where lines about SoC kept getting dropped and getting my hopes up that the other crows would make an appearance and they didn’t.

But back to the wedding, running off to his workshop because he had an idea during his own wedding is totally in character for David. Him dying was just evil. Didn't even cross my mind that this was a possibility, one minute we go from Genya digging through the rubble in her wedding dress saying she can’t find him then we are at his funeral. I thought he might have been gravely injured, unconscious for a long period of time, and that he’d had an idea for an invention that would help them win the war and he’d save the day by waking up in time or something. But no. My favourite character from S&B was killed off, just like that. And it was impactful, it made me cry, the fact they had found him pen in hand, fingers stained with ink, in his wedding clothes, the fact that in his notebook he has notes about how to woo Genya and she wants him to have it in death. Beautifully written, definitely salty about it. At this point in time I don’t really see how his death furthered the plot but death in real life is like that to, it’s unexpected, without reason, sudden. And perhaps, like Matthias’ death in SoC, it will be used to later start a new plot for a new story.

Now two paragraphs ago I was lamenting the fact that the mention of Ketterdam felt forced and had the intent of fooling the readers into having hopes the other SoC cast would return but then they keep hinting at it, they talk about contacting Kaz, about travelling to Ketterdam and I’m sitting there thinking please, please, please actually have Kaz meet them, don’t just be letters or some other minor Dregs sent in his place. (!!!! <- there are no words for my excitement!)

I made an audible screech when Nikolai gave money to the beggar because I knew that was Kaz in disguise. I was so pleased to hear that it sounds like Pekka did not return to the Barrel and that Kaz bought the Emerald Palace and expanded the Crow Club. I was slightly disappointed that Inej wasn’t trailing Nikolai and Zoya too or that she wasn’t meeting with them in the Crow Club probably mainly because I just wanted to see her again but there was also a sadness that it sounds like she did decide to walk a different path than Kaz. The fact that Nina had, earlier in RoW, talked about how she hoped for Inej’s sake Kaz had fixed his hair cut by now, contributed to this because obviously she thinks they stayed together. Maybe they are together in a way but long distance relationships without any suggestion of communication technology must be hard, especially when Kaz could be taken out by another Barrel boss or Inej’s ship blown up by pirates (or the Kerch as was implied by Nikolai) and the other might not ever know of their fate and certainly wouldn’t be there to save them, so I feel that due to this they wouldn’t actively be in a relationship. However, I am proud that Inej put her dreams before Kaz’s she could have given up those dreams to stay at his side and continue to be his spider, after all, that’s what he had asked her to do he wanted her and he wanted her to stay, in the Dregs, with him. Wasn’t too thrilled that she’s used as a sort of damsel in distress. Help us Mister Brekker and in exchange I’ll give you a device that acts as an early warning system against the submarines I gave the Kerch (yes they have a different name that starts with an i and there’s a z and y and m in there somewhere but instead of me trying to spell it lets call them what they are, subs) because the Wraith will be blown up otherwise as she won’t be able to get away in time.

I don’t know if it was because this part of the story was written better or if it was just because I like these characters so much more (my darling baby boys!) but I felt like the story finally developed momentum here that it was lacking previously. I love that Wylan and Jesper are living together with Wylan’s mother and acting like an old married couple. I also like that Wylan is trying to keep Jesper away from illegal activities but is also clearly continuing to work on chemistry projects and likely explosives and that Jesper’s love of Barrel flash hasn’t been quashed, Zoya actually even compliments it in her head. I also love how, as soon as Wylan hears this illegal act can help Inej, all restraint is thrown out the window. Kaz was able to pull off so many tricks in such a short time too, I love it. First dressing as a beggar, then pretending the operation will be more difficult than it is in order to drive the price up, then pretending that due to changes in how the goods are being stored at the military base they couldn’t carry out the operation with such a small crew, meanwhile he knew the Suli were there and would connect with Zoya and show them the “backdoor” to the base. Now I completely understand how Ketterdam was built on slavery or, as they like to call it, indentures, so I can see how Suli would have built the place, I imagine some of the Suli are still in Ketterdam, why they returned to the military base that night I don’t know. Also the fact they were all wearing jackal masks, something Inej said is reserved only for holy men, Suli seers, and wearing one was akin to sacrilege if you were not a seer, implies that all these people were the rare seers which seemed a bit unlikely. The fact that Zoya has this encounter and an earlier one made me think that maybe the Suli would play a larger role in RoW than what they end up doing (because this is the last we see of them, they don’t come to fight the battles, they don’t impart secret knowledge to help Ravka win the war, Zoya doesn’t find her father or her uncles or decide to learn more about her Suli heritage).

I was very disappointed with how quickly we leave Ketterdam, Kaz, Wylan, and Jesper. I suppose we do the same thing with Alina and co at the sanatorium where there is no proper goodbye. In one chapter we finish the job/plot point and in the next the main characters have left. At the end of the day I suppose I was just glad we actually had a few scenes with the crows and not just hints, was definitely the most surprising part of the book.

The crows were a positive surprise Nina and Hanne getting together was more of a negative one for me. It was hinted at in KoS but Nina has also been said to have made eyes at a pair of shoes so I had hoped the relationship wouldn’t grow beyond flirting, I feel it just diminishes what Nina and Matthias had. She also doesn’t seem to feel any remorse for moving on so quickly and even though she’s still thinking about him, about her promise to save some mercy for his people and country, and trying to fulfill her promises, she’s also forsaking him by getting together with Hanne.

That being said I, like Nina, really did believe Rasmus had killed Hanne near the end of RoW and while I hadn’t wanted them to be together the damage to the relationship Nina and Matthias had was done and I was thinking “really, you’re going to do this to my girl Nina twice, take away the person she loves, twice, for no good reason?” So that was a surprise and I was glad that Hanne did survive but I really don’t see how she could live as Rasmus and even if she could pull it off I don’t see the Fjerdan people, military, or royalty permitting a prince to marry Mila, a widowed fishwife. Nina was saying something about using her power to get the answers from the dead which I thought was a very weird development for her powers in the first place. In KoS when Nina said that she was hearing the voices of the dead I thought it was more about she was sensing a mass grave and could tell that the bodies were women and the death unnatural. Near the end of KoS I thought perhaps there were some memories left in the brains that she could access, names and how they died. But in RoW Nina is able to reach out to the dead, identify the queen’s best friend and lady-in-waiting and ask her questions and get answers and implies she can do this with Rasmus as well. There are a lot of logistic fallacies with this. One, it implies that people don’t go to the Saints or to Djel or to any kind of afterlife when they die but that they stick around their corpses. It also implies that Nina can probably override their free will, the women and girls at the factory had “called” to her, I doubt Rasmus and the lady-in-waiting would want to share everything so freely. Finally, if Nina can communicate with the dead then how come Matthias’ voice that she heard in the beginning of KoS was just her imagination and not really him? This could also make Nina incredibly powerful, no need to torture or bribe secrets out of someone or try to steal top secret documents, just kill them with a bone dart and demand answers of their ghost.

In regards to Nina’s power I am disappointed with how little she used it in RoW. With the exception of speaking to the dead I believe she briefly controlled two of the newly dead Priest Guard to restrain the Apparat for all of maybe thirty seconds and that was it for the entire book. While Nina has always done undercover work or subterfuge, pretending to be native to find Grisha in hiding, sneaking into the Ice Court pretending to be part of the Menagerie, pretending to be Mila the translator for Leoni and Adrik, she has always come off as a warrior to me so to not see her fight at all in RoW seemed a bit out of character. There was opportunity but it wasn't seized and honestly it left me wondering what Nina actually really accomplished during RoW, she didn't free Nikolai's true father, she didn't free any Grisha or destroy Fjerda's parem or find labs and holding facilities, she didn't help win any battles, didn't actually manage to dissuade Rasmus from war. Zoya took her from the Leviathan, flew her all the way to the frontlines of the north where there was death aplenty, and then flew her all the way back without her ever doing more than cling to Zoya’s back. Surely she could have raised some of the dead just to drive the point home, no?

The one thing I did like about the final battle was that we finally got to see the Darkling be less than perfect, a theme that sort of carried through the book. He started off with no power, mind you his scheme to get it back went off without a hitch, but then he was pretty much on the run having to trade manual labour for food. Yet he had this plan and I had no reason to believe it wouldn’t work out for him, that he’d go to the frontlines, preform a miracle saving Nikolai and Ravka, and manage to get himself declared a saint for his troubles. Instead we see him just as affected by the disk bells as everyone else, we see him try to summon shadow, try to summon nichyvoya (I acknowledge that’s spelled incorrectly, I can’t be bothered to find the correct spelling) and he can’t. I thought it was glorious.

While the Darkling did end up doing some good in RoW, helping Nikolai’s monster stay alive long enough to destroy the disk bells, shutting up the Apparat (why isn’t he dead, his character is a harbinger of bad things to come and he’s a creep, how did Zoya not kill him?) in order to give Zoya a better chance of getting the throne, and finally sacrificing himself to the Thornwood to undo the damage he let loose on the world with the creation of the Fold, I didn’t feel as though he had redeemed himself and for this I was glad. There are all kinds of evil characters in GV and the Darkling likes to pretend that his reasons are pure, that he’s protecting and strengthening the Grisha, but he is a mass murderer seemingly without empathy, he happily manipulates people to get his way, puts Genya, who at the time could be considered a child, into the king’s path, then later mutilates her as punishment for letting Alina get away, all for the sake of his own cause. In the GV I hated Van Eck and Brum and Heleen much more than the Darkling, but I do think he’s the most evil of them all, in part because his unnaturally long life has meant he’s been committing evils for centuries. I’m glad that it sounds like this is the end for his character and that while in the next series Zoya wants to free him from his eternity of agony that freedom will come in the form of death.

Speaking of the potential plot of the next series, I can’t believe that without even doing any research they are able to come to the conclusion that a “heart strong enough” is the heart of Saint Feliks and they intend to send Kaz after this, what if they’re wrong? Also, they finally bring Inej into the story for Zoya’s coronation, don't know what reason she had for being there. But then we’re done dirty because Inej doesn’t get to meet Alina although she catches sight of her, and they are ready to send Inej back to Kaz with a message about finding this saint’s heart but she’s already left so they’re just going to use a plain old flyer instead! You could have at least sent our darling Inej, treasure of our hearts, back to do Kaz the honour of acquiring him a new heart. But no, brief meaningless appearance and she’s gone.

Unfortunately, it seems there was a lot of things I was displeased with in RoW. I think overall the main problem the RoW (and KoS) is that it just became too big, the characters became indistinct because they grew out of character, there were too many references to past stories and characters in attempt to please readers rather than for the sake of the story, there were too many characters and plots to keep track of in general, and due to all this I couldn’t remain suspended in disbelief. I approach this as someone who entered the GV through SoC, I picked up SoC because the story was interesting, I picked up KoS and S&B because they were set in the same universe as SoC not because I particularly wanted to read those series. I had thought I could be interested in KoS on its own because it is more complicated than a typical YA novel and Nina is one of the main characters but now having finished RoW I have to say that if the GV really was just a collection of stories set in the same universe but with no intersecting of series I would have never have read this one. Will I go back and read KoS and RoW again? Yes, of course. Will I sometimes pretend that it never existed when I reread SoC? Yes, of course. But I do think the wait and the hype was worth it even if just for the few chapters with the Dregs again, because let’s face it, that’s what I personally was waiting for.

So I wrote this as a Word document over the span of three days and it’s now over 5000 words long, completely unedited, no order, probably reads like chaos. I want to see if and how my opinion changes over time but I’ve decided to post this because I like reading and watching others react to things I like so maybe someone else out there is like me and will find this and get some enjoyment from this.

[reginaofdoctorwho]

weird shit that would probably have something to do with me in a horror movie

no one wanted this but i’m bored and found a bottle so you’re all getting it. yes these are all true. check the tags, if u think i’ve missed something please let me know!

there was a murder (technically, i don’t really count it as a murder) next door when i was four years old on christmas morning

the weird antique glass bottle i found half-buried in the woods in the woods yesterday with living bugs in it that made no attempt to leave it once i uncovered it

there is a local cult in the next town over. this is not the same as the local cult that was in the other town over where my mom grew up

random completed animal skeletons in the woods behind our house, i’m talking prey and predator, both laid out like in a goddamn scientific diagram. for a while there’d be ones in the middle of our yard, always the same type of animal, always just the bones and nothing else, laid out like it was posed. this has been happening for over half a decade and we have no fucking clue how, why, or who is doing it

the screaming from the woods that i’m going to assume is a fox

my sister almost dated a murderer. his niece or something is in my class

there is a house that is now part of a “local ghost tour” that belonged to my great+ grand parents during the civil war where my great+ aunt died allegedly murdered by her husband who is actually blood related to me. family history says she died of childbirth, which given that it was the 1800s... probably is true

there was an actual murderer in our family a few generations back but he married in and killed his wife and her sister. they didn’t find out about it until they read his journals after he died where it apparently told everything he did and they decided. “well, that wouldn’t look good for the family, and they’re already dead anyway” and just kept it hidden??

the fact we have my great great grandmother’s dress from probably 1890s or 1900s. even more so the fact that i fit in it. if this was fantasy horror (vampires, some immortal thing or ghost) i’d be fucking dead or cursed

fairly certain i was possessed by the ghost of a puritan as a kid

my family seems to have a curse with babies and nurses? my great uncle died when he was born because long story short, hospitals were the new hot thing, he was perfectly healthy, then a nurse dropped him and he died instantly. my sister died when she was a toddler and the hospital actively tried to delete her hospital records to cover it up and ended up getting fined by the state for it. the nurses responsible were not arrested or punished in any way.

my family all has fucked up connective tissue, in my brother it was bad enough he had to get a steel bar in his chest so it wouldn’t cave in.

the many times i have almost drowned, sometimes due to intentional actions by humans (my dad, it was my dad)

this in addition to the other fucked up shit he did before the divorce when he still lived here, including but not limited to: killing my mom’s favorite pet goat, hanging its skull in a tree, and leaving the body in the woods. not letting his kids learn how to cook. anytime someone asked him to cook he’d put as much pepper/hot sauce in as he could (even for like, scrambled eggs) and give it to the youngest person, usually a toddler. this was me at times. taking his kids out to the woods and threatening murder. taking his kids out to the woods and threatening burning. purposely locked the basement from the inside so we couldn’t get the gaping hole in the stairs leading to one of three kids rooms fixed. tearing up pictures of the kids whenever my mom did something he didn’t like. i had more here but i tried to cut it down a litttle

people have threatened to murder me before. one time a girl didn’t threaten, and actually acted like she was starting to like me, but her cousin read her diary or something and found out she was planning to commit a lot of murder, and told her parents and she got sent to a psychiatric ward for a couple weeks

my mom lived down the street from a family that got axe-murdered by one of their two sons when she was a kid. the murderer did get out on an insanity plea and is still in the area. also their neighbor’s mom “lost her mind” (how the story was told) when she had to protect their kids while her husband went over to try to protect the non murderer son when he got home from school and ran over screaming about his brother trying to kill him and had killed their parents

also she knew a girl who almost got kidnapped by this really fucked up traveling serial killer that has his own wikipedia page that is,,, lengthy. the girl had [alleged] mafia ties, and the guy ended up dying shot by police despite them being told to bring him in, which sounds kinda suspicious

long story short i’d probably be the sequel where one comes back

apparently i go to the “bad” school, which i found out in a coffee shop when i overheard two girls talking about how one’s dad went there and how horrible and dangerous it is

school fights are weird. either they don’t happen or they come freakishly close to murder. people slam heads into lockers, stomp on bones, drag people by hair along the ground. one time in my brother’s class a 4′9″ girl sent a 6′2″ football player to the hospital. there was video of a fight a couple years ago that’s still around. it was brutal, but also one of the girls fighting was taking one for the team in it and got the other kicked out

we don’t have a ceiling in all of the third floor, and the cafeteria has 2. this is not relevant in any way, but it’s important to me that you know this

also the guys kept ripping the heating vents/radiators/whatever off the walls in their bathrooms and got almost all the bathrooms locked. including the girls’ ones.

also everyone kept punching holes in the walls so on some of them it’s just,,, metal sheeting down the whole hallway

there are so many fucking shootings in the next town over. literally five years ago it was this nice place where kids would go on history tours, i did when my sister worked for that group. now there is pretty much one business that has not been held up at gunpoint, and if u look up to the serial killer bullet point, it is for v similar ties. it’s a pizza place and if u ever stop by u gotta try it

women in my family have weirdly good intuition but every couple generations we get doubtful. my great grandma didn’t want a hospital birth but decided “hey it’s the hot new thing for a reason”, my mom switched churches based on nothing but intuition and it turned out someone was a pedophile there (found out years later), i instantly could tell my friend’s boyfriend was a pos and wasn’t surprised later when he told her he’d murder and dismember me in front of her, and upon meeting him told him he was a fucking coward and couldn’t do it. he broke up with her a month later.

i was really good friends for a while with two guys that burned a building down. yes they were arrested. i was friends before and after the fire. they’re pretty nice, but this girl they used to date (at different times, they were brothers, yes it was fucking weird and uncomfortable for everyone involved except her but that’s it’s own thing) said some fucked up shit and it was the closest i ever got to starting a fight. anyway i’m still friends with both on facebook. one of them shares a lot of king of the hill memes

speaking of that fight, i 100% would’ve tried to kill her in that moment. u know that john mulaney quote like “i didn’t understand how a person could want to kill another person. then i got cheated on, and i was like ‘oh, okay.’”? that was me, but replace “cheated on” with she told me it was good my five year old sister was dead because she was a waste, and told me she hoped i’d die of covid”. it was mainly the sister thing. i couldn’t move because if i did i’d start a fight with the [way] above mentioned shit.

my family has a literal feud with a local farming family. i mean, we keep farm animals (sheep, goats, chickens), these people have that, pigs, and crops too. the feud was because their great uncle (or great grand uncle, i’m a little fuzzy on the details) published an autobiography (despite not being anyone famous/important) and in it talked about when he was friends with my grandfather and how creepy my great grandfather was (this was the one with the dead firstborn son) because he kept newspaper clippings of the Lindbergh baby’s kidnapping and murder pinned to a board on the wall of his office/basement. also because he was a child of german immigrants who wanted to fight against nazis in WW2 (how suspicious [sarcasm]). members of their family are in my grade. they charged my sister for almost half an extra pound of goods, too, which just revitalized it.

i live by corn fields. i am surrounded by cornfields. (joke one)

i was friends for a while with this girl whose baby teeth,,, didn’t really fall out completely? she was 17 the last time i saw her in person, she’s probably 19 now and judging by her facebook pictures they’re still Like That. she had a very symmetrical mouth/teeth, which made it weirder. just to clarify, she had some of her baby teeth pushed forward and up, so they kind pointed out a little? and all her adult teeth. she was literally so pretty.

a teacher who is v sexual with his female students came into my english class (he is a science teacher) to demand why i wasn’t signed up for his class. we then both became increasingly passive aggressive and he told the whole class where i live with specific directions and landmarks. the guy sitting next to me had to try to tone things down despite being obviously confused as to why it was even happening (me too buddy). he lives down the road from my sister. when my niece had her birthday party at our house i was outside setting things up and he slowed his car down and honked at me. fuckin creep

[abbynx]

Sibling things (Kakyoin X Sibling reader)

Spoilers for part three! Please skip if you haven't watched/finished it yet!

Just an angsty fic to satisfy my needs for my lovely cherry boi~

Yesterday... It felt like yesterday when you and I played together within the enclosed walls of our residence. Despite being too young to remember such things, the memory was vivid in my memories. That dumb cherry licking, mother chasing bastard was a tolerable asshat who tend to tease me a lot. He'd mess my hair style whenever he gets the chance, call me an embarrassing nickname, just sibling things nothing much. With all the teasing, all the fight picking, all the kicks, the punch, scratching, biting, possibly knife pointing... We cared about each other, for we were told that it would be us against the world when we grew up. If we grew up... I can't get to grow up with him like we planned.

______________________________________

"Happy seventeenth birthday! Oh my sweet darling child!" Your mother embraced you, pressing a firm kiss on your cheek leaving the residue of her red lipstick after you blew the small flame that burned the red candle moulded to mimic a cherry.

You softly smiled at her statement, when your eyes flickered up and caught a glimpse on the mirror. For some goddamn reason, you didn't see yourself in it. In your place, you saw Noriaki, embracing your mother with that smile of his while he was wearing his form fitting uniform of his he always wear for some god forsaken reason. You saw yourself in the mirror as well, holding the cherry flavoured you bought with your allowance.

_____________________________________ Seventeen. It was his seventeenth and last birthday. I can vividly remember planning his birthday, saving funds, baking him the cherry flavoured cake since it was his favourite, saving my allowance to buy him the video game he had his eye on...

A bright future was ahead of him, welcoming him. Bright young man with grace, regality, intelligence, had myriads of talents. He was an intellectual, a painter, a gamer! He knew a thing about other cultures, literature, norms, morals. A boy with the heart of gold, brains rich with knowledge and wisdom... The bright young man wasn't bright at all, as darkness snuffed his light and he was gone. ______________________________________

"We are so proud of you sweetheart." Missus Kakyoin wholeheartedly smiled, she took your cheeks within her grasp, softly running her thumb on your cheek. Her eyes became glossy with tears pooling in her eyes that couldn't escape. "We love you Y/N. Please remember that no matter what."

"Your brother would be so happy and proud of you." The patriarch of the Kakyoin family puts a hand on the matriarch's shoulder, smiling alongside her as tears has already escaped his eyes.

"Thank you mom, dad." You gathered them into a warm embrace in an attempt to hide your watering eyes, not wanting them to see you cry. You glanced up, catching the family's framed photograph from two years ago. Noriaki sat beside you, whilst your parents stood behind you. That stupid jerk and his stupid smile, he was seventeen and had decades and decades more to live when he died, he could've been nineteen already.

Upset, you gripped your parents tightly within your grasp, tears making their way out of your eyes whilst your chest tightened with your denied sobs.

_____________________________________ Loneliness... All he wanted was a friend, someone who can understand him, who will be there for him as much as he is there for them... And that he found, I was proud of him for making friends... But he was only friends with them for fifty days. ______________________________________

"Oh! Happy belated birthday Y/N!" Your classmate leaned on your desk with a bright smile. "Gosh, you're seventeen now! Only four more years and we're legal to drink! I would TOTES love to hang out with you."

"Thank you, Ibara. I would also love that!" You responded, putting a humble hand on your chest with a close eyes smile.

"Wow! That necklace is pretty! Emerald really suits you a lot!" She compliments, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It accentuates your features and it's really pretty despite not being that bedazzled. Simplicity really is beauty."

You blinked at her in shock. "You really think so?" Your hand unconsciously lands on the circular shaped emerald pendant.

"Yeah! It's so very pretty! Its the first time I saw you wearing a necklace, so it must be new. Is it a birthday gift?" She gasps, covering her lips with her opened palms before smirking mischievously. "Is it from your boyfriend~?"

"Oh, more like my brother's boyfriend!" You rolled your eyes, playfully punching the girl's shoulder.

Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki's friend visited you yesterday. The big guy was a statue towering over your small stature but that didn't let you be afraid of him. Despite being practically strangers with each other, only seeing one another during random bumps in school, a friend of your brother's is a friend of yours. And besides, you found yourself being fond of his family after his grandfather and Jotaro came to your residence that day to share the tragic news. It was a complicated situation, very messy... But in the end, the tragedy was all the same, the death, the circumstance... Despair inducing.

Jotaro Kujo shared so many tales about your brother, how smart he was, how helpful, how brave... How dead he was.

___________________________________ "I honestly didn't know he'd be capable of that..."

"Same here. In all my years of knowing him, I never knew he'd pull that stunt... But undeniably, sounds like him," I smiled, looking over the normally silent behemoth. "And you're right about the cherry stuff. He regularly does that whenever he'd eat cherries."

"It's unnerving, to be frank." The hat wearing boy turned away, tipping his hat downward.

"It is! I remember when we'd buy milkshakes after school! He would often take my cherry and do that thing he always do....."

The storytelling went on, endless stories of Noriaki's childhood with me went on and on. I could never get tired of taking about him, his memory lives on with me, in my heart and in my soul. It hurts to admit he's gone in this certain young age of seventeen, but he still lives inside me... That came out wrong, but you get my point.

After our not-so brief talk about Nori, it was time for him to leave, when he turns back to me. In his hand, was a black velvet box wrapped with an emerald bow. He said it was my gift for my birthday and wouldn't you know it, the behemoth is a huge softie. He is like an older brother to me, but of course, I would never replace Nori.

Let me tell you this, it wasn't easy being friends with Jotaro. I'm a junior year while he's a senior. And for some god forsaken reason, they thought we were dating... Uh, I like him as a friend/brother. Nothing more, really.

The box... Inside it, was the necklace. The golden chain and the circular emerald pendant, a certain colour I often associated with my older brother as he named his stand's attack just that. Emerald splash... No one could deflect it, as he claims alright. That's what I thought at least, he never aimed the attack on me.

I gave Jotaro a hug before he parted ways with me. The green certainly reminded me of the stand and it's user... I honestly miss them. _____________________________________

"Say Y/N, I say we go get some boba tea after this class! My treat of course!" Your friend beams, posing with a peace sign at you. "It's the least I can do since I wasn't able to attend your birthday yesterday! And it really makes me feel guilty!"

"Oh Ibara you don't have to," you giggled. "But if you insist!"

As of cue, the bell rang to signal class was over. Ibara has always been a close friend of yours since you've transferred in this school. The girl with an obsession for boba milk teas and middle aged actors who were thrice her age. The comforting soul that stuck with you while you mourned for your brother's death and never left your side. After packing you bag, you glanced at the orange haired girl who was already waiting for you in the doorway with an encouraging smile. Giving your friend a smirk, looping your elbows through hers.

"Off we go, Ibara. A certain cherry boba milk tea is calling my name~" you giggled.

"Oh you always get that flavour. You're obsessed with cherries, aren't you? How come you don't try other flavours?" Ibara asks, casting a questioning glance at your direction. "And your pin is even cherry! And your earrings! Seriously! You and your cherry obsession!"

"I don't know why, but I think they taste good and they're oddly aesthetically pleasing." you lied. "I just like how cherries taste and how they look, that's all."

______________________________________

Heavenly... Every moment spent with you is the reason why I lived.

You may not realize it, big brother, but you were a great influence for me. I was hard on myself for not knowing how certain mathematics work, I knew not much about literature, culture, history, sociology and you taught me all about it. Stands, what the fuck were stands? I developed one and I was afraid and you helped me cope with it and now we're friends.

I knew nothing about friendship, but my relationship with you alone made me feel relevant, valid despite being bullied back in elementary. Your influence lurked within me every single time.

Thoughts like "What would big brother Nori do if...." Frequently crossed my mind whenever an inconvenience occured. You are, in a way, my role model. I love how you handle things, the way you think, negotiate, move after thinking... Such a quick witted guy you were. That's how much I look up at you despite I acted mean to you. You never knew how you influenced me to be a person I am today...

I miss you, truly. I wish you weren't dead.

But I have to ask... Why? Why do you always want to make me feel better about myself when you can't even do the same thing for yourself?

You did everything to make me smile, make me feel comfortable, make me feel loved, appreciated, you helped me feel valid while you suffered with your own pain. You bear your pain alone while I had the nerve to unload my personal baggage as if I was the most miserable person there is...

Hell, I don't even know how much you've suffered until you died. I'm such a useless younger sibling who can't even return the same gestures you've made for me... _____________________________________

"Ewww, what is that?" Fifteen year old Y/N Kakyoin pointed at the canvas in which the red haired male painted on.

"Why, it's my very own magnum opus, dearest youngest sibling," Noriaki jokingly stated with a mock posh accent. "It was time that I replace De Vinci, don't you think?" He moves away for you to get a perfect view of his painting.

It was a painting of your Stand that stood behind a street light. The rough painting was difficult to recognise, but the colour scheme was a dead give away for your Stand. You presumed it was still unfinished, considering there was a clear outline of another character that stood in front of your Stand.

"Why would you chose to draw trash like me?" You pointed at yourself, seating yourself on a stool whilst you watched him dip his paintbrush on a pile of mixed paint before making soft, precise stroke on the canvas.

"No don't say that, you're not trash. You're the whole dumpster." He retorts with a smirk. You couldn't see him as he had his back turned away from you, but you highly suspected he was smirking.

"Wow, that's toooootally original," you dragged the vowels, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. "Says the one with a trashy looking hair."

Noriaki chuckles, shaking his head, the dangling cherry earrings he has shook alongside him. "Okay, I take it back. You're not the whole dumpster, nor trash. You're just my cute little sibling." He has this smile that can light the whole damn town with fire, and girls would swoon and fall and dance around that fire like witches in a ritual to summon a demon... Ugh, it sounded too specific, but that's how you'd describe his smile. Irresistible, not easy to contained and it easily affected you as well because in no time, you were smiling just like him.

"Okay, what the fuck did you eat for you to say those things to me? Who are you and what have you done to my Noriaki?" You laughed, poking him by his tiny waist and immediately elicited a flinch and a laugh from him.

"Oh nothing, just feeling particularly thankful for the existence of my younger sibling who is totally relevant and beautiful in every way. They think that they're bad looking and is often feeling down, as they doubt themselves every time makes me feel like a bad brother." He puts the brush down alongside the others and turns to face you. Noriaki firmly places his hands atop your shoulders and shook you repeatedly. "You haven't been completely honest with yourself and your family. I know something's happening to you in your class. Tell me what's wrong."

His firm grip prevented you from escaping, prompting you to pout. Of course he'd know you were being bullied. He always knows something is up. You're starting to think he uses those good looks of his to pull gossips from gossiping school girls who knew of your circumstances. Nevertheless, you sighed, you spilled your problems as he listens intently.

"I just... I don't feel like expressing myself if people can't accept me. They're right though. I'm just an irrelevant trash and— ow!" You were able to barely flinch when his grip tightens around your shoulders.

"You. Are. Valid and beautiful! Don't forget that okay? You're a flame that doesn't deserve to be snuffed out." He reassures. "I know how you feel, but know that there will be people out there who will love you for who you are. You're not irrelevant, you're not trash. You're the best, unique and the only you they will ever meet and they will miss out for not meeting you. I will not stop saying these things if you do not know, scratch that, believe you are one of the most wonderful person everyone will meet."

"Tsk, stop being cheesy you dumb dork." You playfully punched him by his pectoral, trying to deny your glossy eyes to escape, prompting you to coil your arms around his waist to prevent him from seeing it. "Big dumb dork."

"See? There's my little sibling!" He strokes your hair with a soft smile. "So cute and small, growing too fast!"

"You're not mom, you don't have the right to say that." You glanced at him with a smirk, poking a finger on his waist earning a slight flinch from him, as he is ticklish there.

"Well I am your older brother and I am always in charged on watching you," he flicks you by the forehead in retaliation, prompting you to lightly smack his cheek with a toothy grin. "Have you finished packing yet?

"Yep. I honestly can't wait for the trip in Egypt. I think this going to be the best vacation slash celebration of successfully moving to another house." After speaking, you let out a high pitched shriek when he ruffled your hair with his palms with a mischievous chuckle. As you were about to attempt to free yourself from his grip, he tightly held you to his body and resumed ruffling with your hair as you squirmed and moved. Once he had his fun, he released you with a playful chuckle, watching you rearrange your hair. "Ohhh, curse you!"

"Shut up, now go to bed. We still have a flight to catch tomorrow. If you need me I'll be in my room. Good night!" He waves, abandoning you in the living room as you tend to your hair.

"Whatever you cherry sucking idiot." You incoherently mumbled to yourself, straightening your hair into its former glory.

____________________________________

I love you Noriaki... I hope you believe that. Mom and dad are proud of you, they love and miss you so much. Your friends miss you and they are grateful for what you've done for them.

I hope you're doing well up there with the angels and the cherry gods or whatever.

Know that your little sibling is alive and well and living the best years of their life because of you. By this, I will fulfill everything you have never done.

I miss you big brother and you will always live in my heart. _____________________________________

[overheardatthecontinental]

Talk Chapter 11

AO3 Link

Marcus had faced armies. Had gone head-to-head with mob bosses and mafiaso assholes. He’d been shot, stabbed, tortured and looked death straight in the eyes on more than one occasion. Every encounter had only made him wiser. Each scar had only made him stronger.

And despite all his prowess, his strength, his wisdom, Marcus was fairly certain he wasn’t going to survive Helen Kingston.

John had warned him.

Hell, Helen had warned him.

He’d taken it as a joke. Just because John had fallen victim to sharing his feelings certainly didn’t mean that Marcus would.

After John had left, they made small talk. They watched a movie, and then another. Helen would read until her eyes hurt and then they’d watch another movie.

It started with a simple question, asked over chopping vegetables to have with dinner.

“How’d you get involved in the Underworld?”

“I saved a man’s life in Vietnam. The son of a prominent member of the mob. When we came back to the States, he recruited me."

And Helen had seemed genuinely interested. She asked questions so casually, he hadn’t even realized that they were delving into his past. Not until their plates were in the sink and Helen was curled up on the couch, facing him in his chair and nodding along to a story from his early days as a New York City mobster.

Before he knew it, he was lost in his own past, searching to understand things he thought he had left behind.

“It just seemed like the right course to take. My father did it, his father did it. I think a part of me thought if I followed in their footsteps and joined the army, things would start to make sense. Like I would understand how my father viewed the world.”

“How he viewed the world or how he viewed you?”

The question stabs at him and Marcus looks away, “My mother used to defend him all the time. He never loved us the way he was supposed to. She said that the war had damaged him—that when they were younger, he was caring and loving. But when he came back, he had a hard time adjusting.

“I wanted to understand why he couldn’t get over it. Why he couldn’t leave the war behind. Why—” He stops himself.

“Why you couldn’t be enough.” Her voice is soft, almost hypnotic, lulling him in further.

He nods, despite himself. “He had a great job, a good house, a family… and it was never enough.”

Helen nods along, “You know, every generation has its experiences, it’s rights of passages, it’s issues, it’s stories. Your generation was built in that post-war haze that focused on going back to what had been normal before the war. Except there is no going back from that sort of cultural upheaval. Time changes, and values with it.

“And in that day and age, we didn’t really understand the consequences of war on individuals. So, your father came back, as your grandfather had a generation before, and tried to make sense of peace after having lived in a warzone.”

Marcus nods, “And I get that it must have been tough for him. I do. But then why get married? Why bring another person into your fucked-up life? Why bring children into the picture?”

“I can’t answer to your father’s motives.” Helen says softly, “At best, I can guess that he probably felt like it was his duty to rebuild America. To have a family and try to put the past behind him. But the past always has a way of catch up with us. And it wasn’t fair to the rest of your family and your father’s trauma is not an excuse for the pain that he put you through.

“In therapy, we use a term called ‘intergenerational trauma’ to explain this. It’s the idea that severe trauma, severe distress can follow each generation. Your grandfather probably brought his experiences from the Great War into your father’s life. And your father brought those experiences, combined with his own from the second World War into yours.”

“Didn’t know there was a term for it. But it’s why I don’t ever want children.” Marcus admits, jarring himself with the fact that he admitted out loud how much his father had affected him. “I couldn’t bare to pass that down again.”

“Which is entirely within your right.” Helen’s calming voice eases his anxiety. “A lot of people, particularly from the baby boomer generation and before, believe that we have some sort of duty to procreate. The remnants of generations’ past, I suppose. But the reality of the matter is we don’t owe anybody.”

He shivers at her words and wonders if she notices.

He’d laughed at John for being tricked into revealing his life to a pretty face, but it was so good to say the things out loud that haunted him at two in the morning when he was unable to sleep.

“I always thought I had moved on from all this.” Marcus shakes his head, “That I left my father back in Idaho. Thoughts creep in every now and then but when I work, I can forget about it.”

Helen nods, “We forget how broken we are when we start to fixate on something else. But, eventually, we’re forced to look back at ourselves and face the truth: distracted is not the same as healed.”

And that cuts deep, but not as deep as the thoughts simmering beneath the surface. The knowledge that he had spent decades hiding behind jobs and contracts to ignore the rejection and isolation that seemed to follow him.

“So, there is no moving on, no healing.”

Helen offers him a small, empathetic smile, “I had this conversation with John just yesterday. We tend to think of healing as linear. Something happens to us, we give it time, and it heals. But that’s not always the case. You should know as well as anybody—not every scar heals. Sometimes a bone doesn’t set right.”

She lets out a soft sigh as she tries to find a way to explain, “Try to think of it in terms of a broken leg. If your broken bone is tended to right away, if it’s splinted properly, if you’re cared for during your recovery, it will heal. Sometimes even stronger than it was before.

“On the other hand, maybe you’re alone. You splint your own bone the best you can, but there is no one with you to share the burden. No one to help you heal. The bone may mend but, oftentimes, it won’t heal correctly. Maybe you walk with a limp. Or maybe you walk fine, except on days when it rains. The trauma comes back, haunting you.

“Then, of course, your bone breaks and you ignore it. You try to stand but your leg can’t support you anymore. You pretend that nothing has happened, but all you do is injure yourself the more. So, what happens, then?”

“If you can’t heal, you’re dead.”

“In the animal kingdom, you would be.” Helen says, “But we are human. We are resilient and we can adapt and, even when we feel like we are, we are not alone. So, what happens if your bone doesn’t heal correctly?”

Marcus feels a shiver travel through his body, “We re-break the bone.”

“Very good.” Helen rewards him with a real smile this time, “We re-break the bone and we try again. And, most of the time, trauma isn’t quite so severe. Most of the time, we’re stuck somewhere in the middle. Our wounds heal, but they still come back, aching on days when it rains.”

He sighs, “But what does that mean? That even if I make peace with my father’s memory, I’ll still feel him haunting me now and again?”

“There are no guarantees, but it’s likely. We all experience trauma differently but it seldom disappears all together.”

Idly, Marcus hears the sound of a car on gravel but he shakes his head, still lost in his own thoughts, “And what, there’s no way to make it disappear?”

“Not permanently. There are skills you can learn to help cope with the memories or to restructure your experiences. But trauma engrains itself within us.”

“It’s stupid.” Marcus spits out, “I came out of ‘Nam without feeling a thing. I’ve killed more people than I can count, and I don’t think about it. But the thought of my father’s voice makes me want to scream.”

“The events that happen in our formative years leave far deeper scars than what comes later. You spent your childhood seeking the approval of a man who probably lost sight of who he was long before you were born.”

The door opens and Marcus catches sight of John, carrying a couple grocery bags and a suitcase.

“And you can’t hold yourself responsible for that.” Helen adds softly, checking over her shoulder. Her eyes scan John, assessing for injury before she asks, “Is that your blood?”

“No.”

Marcus swallows, forcing the heaviness weight on him back down his throat and motioning to the bags John is carrying. Still, his voice is gruff as he asks, “You go shopping?”

“Just picked up a few things. Soap, a toothbrush. Better coffee.” John reaches in the bag and pulls out a pint of ice cream, reveling in the way her eyes light up as he hands it to her.

“Oh, fuck yes.” She takes it and undoes the plastic wrap locking the lid on, looking at Marcus as she does, “Do you need some. too?”

“Marcus won’t eat that much sugar.”

“What I need is Cognac.” Marcus mutters.

Helen hums, “Was Cognac also your father’s drink?”

Marcus looks up sharply, “Pass me the damn ice cream.”

Helen tosses the pint to him and John sighs, “Hels, I thought I said not to break him.”

“I didn’t! We were just having a discussion.”

“Uh huh.” John watches as Marcus slips into the kitchen for a spoon, “I’ve never seen Marcus eat refined sugars. Ever.”

“Physical health is only one facet of being. Ice cream tends to the mind and the soul.” She says knowingly.

Marcus plops down on the couch next to Helen and hands her a spoon.

John raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Fuck off.” Marcus says, digging the spoon into the ice cream, “I have unprocessed trauma.”

He looks from Marcus to Helen, the latter of whom just shrugs.

“Couldn’t last one day without breaking somebody’s psyche?” John teases.

Helen swallows a mouthful of ice cream, “I can’t turn it off any more than you can stop counting exits, looking for weapons.”

Marcus nods, “I say next time we have a tough case, we just send her in.”

Not a chance in hell, John thinks even knowing that Marcus is largely joking. Still, he couldn’t deny that it would be hilarious to drop Helen in the middle of the Continental and just watch.

She leans to the side on the couch, looking up at him with her warm brown eyes. “Did you have dinner?” He shakes his head and Helen sighs, “We saved you a plate, just in case. Go shower, I’ll heat it up.”

“It’s okay—”

“Go shower.” She says again, leaving no room for argument as she stands, “And change in the bathroom! I don’t want you getting blood on our bed.”

Our bed. He tries not to read to much into that but holy fuck the way that sounded… The casual way that she said it felt so fucking right even if he knew he was reading far too much into the innocent statement. He pushes it out of his head as he acquiesces with a soft, “Yes, ma’am.”

She swats at his side the best she can from her seat on the couch to prompt him forward. John sets the grocery bags with actual food on the counter and heads to the back. He tosses the suitcase on the bed and finds his own sleepwear from the night before.

Grabbing the bag with the hygiene products, he disappears into the bathroom.

He showers quickly, watching the tub stain red then wash clear as he cleans the blood from his body. It had been a long day, as he had known it would be. And while John had hoped that DeLuca would change his demands, he had been correct in assuming that he wouldn’t.

Already, a clock was moving against him.

Three days until Senor D’Antonio and Gianna returned to Rome. Three days in which to kill him and his heirs.

Marcus had said they would find a way out of it, but John wasn’t so sure.

He’s run every scenario he can think of in his head on the drive home. For four hours, he contemplated possible courses of actions that he could take. They all resulted in either Helen’s death, which was unacceptable, or his own, which was unfortunate.

He cut the shower short, anxious to see Helen after spending a day dealing with people who wanted to do her harm. See for himself that she was safe and uninjured. Let himself feel a glimmer of joy at the sound of her voice, the energy of her presence.

Cloak himself in her scent and sound and sight. Memorize it all just in case he was unable to make it through this week with his life.

He changes into his sleepwear and quickly towels his hair.

There’s food sitting in front of the armchair when he returns to the living room. A plate with vegetables, potatoes, and chicken. Helen and Marcus share the couch and are passing the ice cream back and forth to one another.

John idly wishes he could use his phone to snap a quick picture for Sofia. Marcus with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in his hand, a spoonful of chocolate ice cream aimed for his mouth…

Sof would have a field day with that.

Helen’s eyes meet his and he wonders, for the millionth time, what it would be like to kiss her.

He’s probably going to die anyway, already set for Hell. Would it be so wrong to steal a kiss before going to his death?

“Did you meet with DeLuca?” Marcus asks, snapping John out of his thoughts as he sits down with them.

He nods once, his eyes flitting to Helen. Not wanting to discuss it in front of her, John adds, “We’ll chat later.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say he realizes as her eyes flash.

“Oh, no. We’re not doing this.” She bemoans, “You don’t get to shut me out of this.”

John shakes his head, “Helen...”

“I have every right to know what’s going on.”

“You don’t need to be worrying about this!” He insists and watches as her entire body tenses.

“Marcus,” She says, and her voice is just a little too sweet for John, “Would you mind stepping out for a moment?”

Marcus, ice cream in hand, looks between them, “I mean, I’d rather stay and watch you demolish him but—”

“Marcus!” Helen and John say together and the older assassin laughs, sliding to his feet.

“Guess I’ll just go downstairs and see if anything new has magically appeared since yesterday.” He pats John on the shoulder on the way to the basement, “Good luck.”

Helen waits for the door to close before she speaks, “We are not doing this, John.”

“Doing what?” He asks, resigned.

“You’re not leaving me out of the loop! I know that you think you’re protecting me by keeping me in the dark from what is happening, but I can handle this.”

Again, he shakes his head, “It’s not about what you can handle, I know you can handle this, but you don’t have to. I don’t want you to be worrying—”

“You don’t get to decide what I’m allowed to worry about.” She snaps, not unkindly. Helen pauses, sighing to herself. She moves down the couch so that she’s closer to where he sits and, gently, tries again, “John, I am doing what you ask. I’ve cut off contact from the world, I’m staying hidden. Meet me halfway here.”

His leg is shaking, she notes. His face is tense.

She reaches out across the space to where his hand sits on the armrest and lays her own atop. “I know things are going to get worse before they get better. But you trying to deal with this all on your own, without support, isn’t helping.”

He hesitates again, gathering his thoughts together before he admits, “I don’t want to let you know how bad it’s gotten. And not because I don’t think you can handle it,” He adds before she can say anything, “But because I don’t want to expose you to that. You might not like some of the things I might have to do.”

“We got to this point together.” Helen argues, “Hell, I’m more accountable than you are for this fiasco.”

John snorts, “No, you’re not.”

“I’m a licensed professional. I was the one in the position of power. I had a moral obligation to ensure the boundaries between us stayed clear. I knowingly violated that, okay? I got us to this point, too. So, please, let me help fix it.”

John lets out a breath, his shoulders settling. “I don’t like it. I don’t like involving you in this world more than you already are.”

“You don’t have to like it.” She reminds him, “But you’re going to deal with it, because I’m not going to let you carry the weight by yourself.”

There’s such force behind her words. And Christ, she would be pissed if he laid it all out. She would demand that he ignore DeLuca, even at the cost of her own life. And they would argue and fight about it, but ultimately, he would do whatever it takes.

But she’s not backing down and, while John has never been good at compromising, he is more than capable of recognizing when an opponent is going to fight until their last breath. She has that same look in her eye now.

“Okay.” He agrees. “Okay. But tomorrow? I… I don’t think I can handle that tonight.”

She nods and her hand tightens on his, squeezing momentarily, “Thank you.”

For a moment, she stays in place, looking at him. A small smile of thanks graces her face. He forces himself to look away from her lips.

“Marcus!” She calls, letting go of his hand and sitting back in her corner of the couch, “You can come back in.”

Marcus comes back up and makes a show of checking his watch, “Not even five minutes? Come on, John. That’s just sad.”

John smirks at his friend, “You think you can win an argument against her? Be my guest.”

Marcus winks at Helen and holds up the ice cream, “You want more?”

“Not now, thanks.” She replies and he puts the ice cream back into the freezer.

John takes a bite of his leftover, noting that this might be the first time anybody had ever thought to save dinner for him. It’s a little bit better knowing that Helen had thought of him when putting it away, certain it was not Marcus’s doing. Not that Marcus didn’t care, but he was more from the school of everybody fend for themselves.

Marcus settles on the couch and looks to Helen, “What did I miss?”

John finds himself smirking despite himself, “What, is she in charge now?”

“Have been since the beginning, but glad you’re catching on.” She says with a heart-stopping smile before looking back at Marcus, “Discussion is tabled until tomorrow.”

Marcus nods, “Fine by me. My head still fucking hurts.”

John smirks as he raises his fork, “Welcome to the club.”

Marcus shakes his head, “And you do this with her every week? Willingly?”

“It gets easier once you know what to expect.”

The older assassin looks to Helen, “We’re not making a habit of those discussions.”

“We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

John recognizes the look in her eyes. She’s an expert at subtle manipulation—letting you think you’re in control right up until the moment she snatches the rug out from under you. And by then, you’re too addicted to her kind words and soft stares to leave.

She’s magnificent.

Marcus sighs and glances at John, “How screwed am I?”

“Very.” Helen shoots him an amused glance and he feels his own gaze soften as he looks at her, “You know I wouldn’t change a thing.”

At least, about her.

Their circumstances on the other hand…

Her lips twitch slightly and yeah, John thinks, he’s going to do it. Not now. But before he goes off to face death, he’s going to kiss those soft, pink lips. He’s going to carry the taste of her with him to the next world.

Let that be how she remembers him—not as a broken man or as a murderer. But as someone who loved her completely.

That wouldn’t be so bad.

“Me, either.” She says and it takes everything inside of him not to fly across the room to her now.

“Yup!” Marcus says, very loudly, interrupting the moment that passes between them, “Therapy is not for me.”

Helen looks away, her cheeks tinged with pink. He watches her swallow before looking up at Marcus, “It’s not for everyone.” She admits, then teases, “Some people just can’t handle the weight and strength needed to address their inner battles.”

“Listen, Kingston…” Marcus says but there is humor in his voice, “If assassins actually started addressing the issues we all have with our parents, we wouldn't have the time kill anybody.”

She laughs at that, “God forbid.”

Marcus looks over her head, “Don’t you just want to set her on Winston? I want to know what’s going on in his head.”

“That’s the guy who operates New York, right?” Helen asks and John nods.

“That’s him. And, frankly, Marcus. I’d rather not know what’s going on in Winston’s head. Or anybody’s.” Looking back to Helen he adds, “I don’t know how you deal with knowing so many people’s thoughts.”

She shrugs a shoulder, “We all have our stories, but the same themes come up again and again.”

“Jung?” John asks.

“Very good.” Helen says, “Did you ever end up reading The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious?”

John nods, “I did.”

“Nerd alert!” Marcus coughs into his hand.

Helen and John both glare at him before she looks back to John, “I mean, you know my feelings on listening to anyone labeled an ‘expert’ but, at the very least, I agree that if you look close enough at peoples stories, you’ll find the same themes prevailing over nearly all of it.”

“And what are your thoughts on listening to experts?” Marcus asks.

John smirks, already knowing the answer, “Helen believes very strongly in subjective truth. Nothing can be taken at face value.”

Helen nods, “And people in the psych community tend to stick to their niches. The psychoanalytics stick to Freud, the REBT people stick to Ellis, Cognitive Behavioralists stick to Skinner. The reality is, they all work in their own ways. But to put all your stock in one school of thought, you’re going to miss out on a lot of relevant shit.”

Marcus smirks, “You talk with that mouth in your office?”

Helen inclines her head, “Only with John. But he’s got a thick skull. Sometimes you need to do things to catch his attention.”

“That thick skull is necessary to protect the small brain inside.”

John flips him off.

“He’s had a lot of undiagnosed concussions.” Marcus adds, ignoring the gesture.

“I’d smack you,” John comments, humor in his voice, “But I wouldn’t want to damage your hearing aids.”

Marcus smirks in response, glancing to Helen, “You don’t get to be my age in the Underworld without some wear and tear. You spend enough time around munitions and guns, your hearing is the first thing to go.” He looks over at John, “This one laughs now, but he’ll be exactly where I am in fifteen years. If he lives that long.”

Helen rolls her eyes, “Well, on that note, I’m going to get ready for bed.” Helen stands up, her hand brushing along John’s arm as she walks by. “Come to bed soon, okay?”

He nods, forcing himself to remember to breathe when she talks to him like that, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Good. Night, Marcus.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

She disappears down the hall, watching her long after she disappears. There’s the sound of a door closing and a sink running. He can still feel where her fingers grazed his arm.

“Henry.”

John looks up at Marcus, blinking in confusion.

“Henry.” Marcus repeats, “It’s my middle name. Good strong name, you know, if you’re starting think of what you’ll name your children.”

“Fuck off.”

Marcus laughs, “Jesus, John, you’re fucking gone.”

John glares slightly, “Really? Calling her sweetheart?”

The older assassin rolls his eyes, “Calm down, Romeo. I prefer my women not have the ability to psychoanalyze me. I meant exactly what I said—she’s a sweetheart.”

He nods, relaxing slightly. He’s well aware of Helen’s allure, even platonically he understands the way she manages to pull people in. A kind word from her is enough to hook anyone and, before you can remember to think, you’ve bared your soul. A search for absolution that can only be found in the quiet of her eyes.

“She is.” John agrees.

Marcus nods, “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about the marker.”

John raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t need it. Not for doing this.”

“You’re doing me the favor of a lifetime.” John states the obvious. This was no small thing that Marcus was doing for him.

Marcus nods, “I was. But, truth is, I’m happy just to do this for her.”

John huffs a small laugh, “I get it. She pulls you in, doesn’t she? So fast you don’t even know you’re sinking.”

“She does that.” Marcus pauses, thoughtfully. He looks to John and asks, “How long the two of you going to keep playing this game?”

He looks away, “Marcus…”

“You are both way too smart to be playing stupid to the looks, the touches. If I didn’t know the two of you and we just met, I’d assume you were married with the way you act around each other.”

Shaking his head, John looks to his friend, “Let it go.”

“John—”

“Let it go.” John says again, “I promised her we wouldn’t talk about it without her but… things aren’t looking good. And, if by some miracle, I’m still alive at the end of all this, what can I offer her?”

“She knows exactly what you are and she doesn’t care. She still adores you.”

John can’t even begin to address that so he ignores it, “She’ll never be safe so long as her name is associated with mine.”

Marcus stares at him incredulously, “I think that particular ship already sailed.”

John pushes his hair back, frustrated, because Marcus is right on that note. Everything was already fucked. But there was still something looming over John that forced him to add, “She deserves better.”

“Definitely. But she still wants you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“My ears may be shot to hell, but I’m not blind.”

John takes his plate, shaking his head as he stands up, “Goodnight, Marcus.”

“Night, dumbass.”

[sherrybaby14]

Blessing or a Curse?

Request:  I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll do a Mummy movie Imhotep dub con where when you accidentally raise him and he makes you his thinking of it as a gift type shenanigan.

 Response:  I would love to.  

 Pairing:  Imhotep x reader

 Warnings:  Dub-con, smut, Monster banging (He’s the Mummy, but he’s not A Mummy), alcohol

 Fandom:  The cinematic masterpiece The Mummy (1999)

 Words:  4K

                 Most family’s heirlooms were jewelry, old photographs, vases, or even ornaments.  Sure, yours had all of those too, but none as valued as the key.  You picked up the strange object in your hand and opened it, loving how quick the spiked points set out.  

                  “What does it open?”  You’d been obsessed with the question since you first found out it was a key.

                 “Nobody knows.”  Your aunt’s voice broke your concentration.  “Like a lot of the family secrets it was lost with time.”  

                  “Along with most of the family.”  You sat down on your aunt’s couch.  “Do you really think we’re cursed?”  

                  The family tree and fortune traced back to 1926, a couple named Rick and Evelyn O’Connell.   They were your great aunt and uncle.  You’d seen some dusty photographs, but saw no familial resemblance. Your great grandfather was Evelyn’s brother, but you looked even less like him.  Maybe that’s why you felt you never belonged.  

                  “I’m not sure bringing up curses when you’re here for a funeral is fair.”  Your aunt sat next to you.  

                  “I’m so sorry.  That was rude of me.”  Your Uncle was only buried yesterday.  

                 “It’s okay.”  Your aunt reached out and squeezed your hand.  “I know you’ve had your share of loss too.  If the family is cursed, may as well be cursed together. I need a drink.  Would you like one?”  

                  “Please.”  You needed something to break the tension.  “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?  Would you rather be alone?”

                  “Don’t be silly.”  She walked over to the bar.  “I live alone in a mansion in England.  You live alone in a shoebox in whatever country you’re staying in now. Take off your boots and stay awhile.”  

                  “I never put down roots.”  You held your hand out for the drink.  “Maybe then the curse won’t catch up to me.”

                  “Smart girl.”  Your Aunt cheersed you.  “Now distract me from my husband’s death.  Tell me some of your world travels.”  

 ~~

                 Two weeks at your Aunt’s and you were getting stir crazy. Ready to move on and resume trying to search for whatever it was you were searching for.  She wasn’t ready for you to leave yet.  So if you couldn’t explore the world you would explore the mansion.  

                  You could tell it was built for another time. Updates over the years had ruined some of the 1920s charm.  You barely got cell reception and the only time the internet worked was if you were close to the router.  These walls were thick, not designed for WiFi.  

                  The attic was your favorite space.  Antiques no longer desired and an occasional random old thing someone didn’t want to throw away but didn’t want around either. You were looking at a box of dresses, holding them up to your frame and wondering if any would fit you.  

                  You twirled in front of an antique mirror, laughing at the style.   BOOM! The thunder was followed by lightning.  It took you off guard and you tripped.   You tried to steady yourself, but your feet were off balance.  You crashed into the mirror, knocking the thing to the ground underneath you.  

                  It happened so fast you didn’t know how to respond. Shards of glass were all around you.   From what you could tell you weren’t cut, but you had to push yourself up with skill to avoid the pieces.  

                  “Shit.”  That mirror was probably worth more than your car.

                  You hoped your aunt wouldn’t be too mad.  You readied to push yourself up, going slow to not cut yourself, once you made it to your feet you looked at the destroyed antique.  All over some thunder.  

                  You were about to leave to get a broom when something caught your eye.  The base of the mirror.  With the glass cracked you realized it wasn’t a base at all.  It was a book.  The spine gold and the black pages hidden behind the glass.  

                  “Hidden?”  Why would anyone hide a book?  And in a mirror?   You reached down and grabbed it.  It was heavier than expected.  Like the pages were pure metal.   Ancient symbols were on the cover, but that wasn’t what excited you.  It was the shape.  The strange sun.  

                  Your eyes flared with excitement.  You no longer cared about the dress or the glass as you ran toward the stairs.  This was it. The most important heirloom.  The key.  

                  You were almost shaking with excitement by the time you made it to the sitting room, grabbing the relic you dropped to your knees.  The sound of the rain hitting the windows background static to your own thoughts.

                  In seconds you had the key opened and put it on the page.  It fit so perfect you almost fainted from excitement.  Then you turned and the edging of the book popped open with such satisfaction.   You flipped it open.  

                  Egyptian.  Ancient. Like your entire family tree, you’d spent some time studying the culture.  You grabbed your phone.  No service. That meant you had to wing it with your little knowledge.  Your fingers scanned the page.  

                  Each symbol you recognized you spoke the words out loud.   Unsure what they meant.  When you finished the page, BOOM! Another crack of lightning.  

                  You snapped your head to the door as it felt like all the air was sucked from the room and the power went out.  Your head cleared and it sounded like the wind was screaming.

                 What frightened you more, was what they were screaming: no.  A chill went down your spine.  You shut the book and locked it again.  

                  “What a storm.”  Your aunt walked in.  “What’s that?”

                 “I found it in the attic.”  You rose from the floor.  “I’m so sorry, but the lightning scared me and I broke a mirror.”

                  “More bad luck for this family.”  Your aunt rolled her eyes.  “You want a drink?  Power is out, not much else to do around here.”

                  “Sure.”  While your aunt was turned around you took the key out and flipped the book over.  

                  Something felt off.  You couldn’t put your finger on it, but didn’t think you should tell your aunt about the book.  It was just the storm, and the fall on to all that glass.  A drink would calm your nerves.

 ~~

                 The dreams started that night.  You tossed and turned, fisting the sheets, sweat dripping down your brow.  

                  He was handsome, strong, powerful. His voice was deep and commanding.  You didn’t know what he was saying.  His language was dead, but he loomed over you, his hand stroking your cheek.  

                  Even though you didn’t understand his words you understood his touch.  He was evil. Damned.  But he was gentle to you, almost grateful.  Like he wanted to thank you.  But as his lips moved closer to yours your blood turned to ice.  

                  The same scream of the wind left your lips as you woke up in bed, your chest heaving.  You glanced around the room.  Alone.

                  It took a moment to collect yourself, your chest heaving from the nightmare.  Who was the mystery man?  What was he saying?  Why did it feel so real?  

                 “Get your shit together.”  You put your head in your hands. “It was a stupid dream.”  

                  Something in your core told you it was something different, but you shook away the thought as you laid back down.

 ~~

               “You look like you could use some coffee.” Your aunt didn’t take her eyes from the television, you wondered how she saw you.  

                  “I didn’t sleep well.”  You turned to see what had her attention.  

                  The headline on the news said:  Raining blood in Egypt.  The talking head was rambling about some soil getting in the atmosphere and it not really being blood.

                  “That is insanity.”  You cocked your head to the side.  

                 “It’s on every station.  Some people are saying it’s the sign of the end of days.”  Your Aunt sipped her coffee.  “But the more logical minds are talking about red soil dying the rain and global warming.”  

                  “What side are you on?”  You sat next to her.  

                  “Oh honey.”  She turned toward you.  “The apocalypse has been happening for years.  The world isn’t going to end with a bang, it will end with a whimper.”

                 “T. S. Eliot?”  You didn’t take your Aunt for a poetry fan.  

                 “Stephen King’s opening to The Stand.”  She went back to the television.  “Want to go shopping today?  Get out of the house?”  

                  “Sure.  I want to be fashionable while I whimper to death.”  You laughed as you went to the kitchen.  

 ~~

                 You felt his presence and shot up in your bed.   He was sitting next to you and reached for your shoulder, being gentle as he pushed you back down.  

                  “No, no, no, no.”  You repeated the word, but he spoke over you.  This time in another language, but still not one you understood.

                  He was trying to calm you, the tone of his voice almost had a coo, but his hand on your skin, the way he touched you.  It was as if pure evil was in his veins.  

                  “Please.  What do you want from me?”  You crawled back on the mattress until you hit the headboard and reached behind you for something to grab as he moved with you.  Repeating words you did not understand.

                  His other hand came to your cheek too and he held your head in place, a warm smile on his handsome face.  

                  “Imhotep.  Imhotep. Imhotep.”  He was saying the word on repeat.

                  “I don’t know what that means.”  You were caged by him.  “Imhotep?”

                  A devilish grin spread across his face as he leaned closer to you, your foreheads almost touching.  

                  “Imhotep.”  He lowered his lips.  

                  You didn’t want the kiss, but at the same time you were desperate for it.   When his mouth crashed into yours you shut your eyes, your heart and brain wanting different things, but it was obvious this man was only after one:  your soul.  

                  The thought made you open your eyes and when you did the kiss turned into a bone-chilling shriek.  The handsome man was gone.  You were kissing a mummy.  

                  The dream ended like the last, with you popping up in bed,  your chest heavy and head spinning.  

                  “What the fuck?”  You reached out for the glass of water on your nightstand.  “Imhotep?”

                  It was gibberish meant nothing.  But tomorrow you were going to do some research. Just to clear your head.  You nodded as you laid back down.

                  “Only a dream.”  You pressed your thighs together and noticed you were soaked. “Great, now you’re getting turned on from dead people.”  

                  You rolled your eyes before shutting them.   You needed sleep.

 ~~

                 When you came down in the morning your Aunt was glued to the television again.   This time the headline read:  Egypt declares state of emergency.  

                  “Did the red rain get worse?”  You took a seat.  

                  “No. It stopped.”  She was glued to the television.  

                  “The after effects that bad?”  You imagined the cleanup would be gross.  

                 “Nobody knows.”  She looked hypnotized.  “Here it comes again.  Watch!”

                  The news switched to a reporter, walking the streets of Cairo showing the red grounds.  

                  “As you can see the red rain has stopped coming down.  Scientists have samples and are testing the liquid, but there are already rumors of sores appearing on…”  The news reporter dropped his microphone.  

                  Then the camera fell to the ground.  Both people started walking, the only thing visible their feet.   It almost looked like a parade was forming as a swarm of other feet entered the frame.

                  Even without the microphone, you could hear the one word they were chanting clear as day:  Imhotep.  

                  The news switched back to the talking head right as you gasped.

                 “The strange word they were chanting, Imhotep, scholars and researchers all over the world have been consulted.   Nobody knows what it means.   The origin is believed to be ancient Egyptian, but there is no known translation.”  The Anchor shifted his notes.

                   “It’s a name.”  You didn’t look away from the screen.  “It’s his name.”  

                  “They argued that earlier.  No known records of any person in Egyptian history with that name. At least none of importance.” Your Aunt took another sip from her coffee mug.  

                  “Because he was evil.   They wanted history to forget about him.”  Your stomach hurt as you sat on the couch.  “Put down your wine and listen to me, please.  This is important.”  

                  “Wine?”  Your Aunt looked away from the TV.  “It’s 10 am. This is coffee!”  

                  “Your husband just died.  Nobody is judging you.  But please, I need you to listen.”  You pointed to the TV.  “This. It’s all my fault.”

                  “You’re started a cult in Egypt?” Your Aunt rolled her eyes. “Made blood rain from the sky?”  

                  “No.  Imhotep did.” You swallowed.  “But I summoned him.”  

                  You blurted out the rest of the story in a frenzy.   Dreams, book, the key.  All of it.  By the time you were finished, you were struggling for breath.  

                  A concerned look crossed your Aunt’s face and she set her mug down.  She reached out and put the back of her hand to your forehead.  

                  “Are you feeling alright?”  She pulled out her cell phone with her other hand.  “I’m going to call the Doctor.”  

                  “Listen to me.”  You grabbed her shoulders.  “It’s true. I can go grab the book and show you.”

                  “I believe you about the book.”  Your Aunt sighed.  “It was probably a stolen artifact.  The house is filled with them.  Seems the O’Connells weren’t too keen on leaving valuable things in their country of origin.  But that’s all they are.  Things. You can’t use them to summon Mummies.”

                  “But the timing, and the dreams!  The book was in Ancient Egyptian!”  You didn’t understand why your Aunt wasn’t putting it all together.  

                  “Coincidence.”  Your Aunt handed you her coffee mug.  “Here. I think you need this more than I do. Listen to yourself Dear, you sound like one of the nutjobs that call into the shows.   So you’re having a dream man?  So you read a book.  Reading a book never hurt anyone.  You are thousands of miles away from Egypt.  Use logic. Those people were probably polluted from whatever was in the rain.  It’s much more likely government testing than a plague.  All that Imhotep stuff is just an infection.”  

                  You winced and glanced at the mug.  Your anxiety ran out.   She was right.  Those poor people had been exposed to something and here you were thinking about Mummies.  You took a gulp of the wine.  

                  “I’m feeling a bit stupid at the moment.”  You glanced down.  “Thinking a country that’s in a crisis was caused by a mythical being. When I say that out loud…yeah.”  

                  “Once this is settled down I will give the book and the key back to the Egyptian government.”  Your Aunt took the mug back and took a swig.  “Maybe then the curse on our family will be lifted.”  

                  That brought a smile to your face.  It was the right thing.  

                  “And for heaven’s sake, if a hot man comes and visits you in a dream and you don’t want him, send him down to my bedroom.”  She laughed.  “After all, I’m on the market again.”  

                  You rolled your eyes.  She was right though.  Why not turn the semi-nightmares into fun times?  A dream was harmless.

 ~~

               When bedtime rolled around you were a little nervous, of course now that you decided you wanted to play along with your mind’s fantasy there was a good chance he wouldn’t show up.   The thought kept circling your brain, making it seem like sleep would never come.  

                  You’d been tossing and turning for hours. Never once getting close to riding off with the sandman.   At three am you were about to give up and head downstairs to watch a movie or read a book.  

                 As you sat up a hand reached out and touched your cheek.  In the moonlight, you saw his features.  Imhotep. He was here.   You must have slipped into sleep and not realized.  

                  “You’re here.”  This time you put your hand on his, turning into his touch.  

                  “Yes.”  His English surprised you.  “Because of you.  For you.”

                  “And you speak my tongue now?”  Your brain finally got it together in this manifestation of him.  

                  “It took a few days to learn.”  He pressed his forehead to yours.  

                  Evil.  He was cold and evil.  You felt it in the contact and shuddered.

                  “You have nothing to fear.”  He pulled away and tucked a hair behind your ear. “I will never hurt you.  No harm will ever come to you.”  

                  “I believe you.”  You draped your arms around his shoulders.  “I shouldn’t, but I do.”  

                  A candle next to your bed came to life, you glanced toward it, unsure how it lit on its own.  

                  “A dream.”  You reminded yourself.  “None of this is real.”  

                  “I am not real?”  His finger hooked under your chin and turned your head to face him.

                  In the candlelight you got a better view of his face. It was beautiful and smooth. You ran your hand down his cheek.  He felt real.

                  “Is this not real?”  He ran his thumb over your lip before dipping his mouth again.

                  The power and coldness of his kiss were strange. Your brain screamed to run and shove him off, but it was like his ice spread to you with a burn as your tongue echoed his movements.  Your head started to go fuzzy as his hands were on your nightgown.  He pushed down one strap and then the other, pushing the garment down to your waist.  

                  The kiss continued as you lifted your hips and he pulled down your panties with the garment, tossing them to the floor.   His hand cupped your mound.  You gasped into his mouth as his finger ran up your slit and palm pressed hard into your clit.   One of his fingers teased your entrance and you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, moving to your knees.  

                   “How about this?”  He pulled away and watched you with a flash of lust as he slid a finger inside of you with ease.  “Is this real?”  

                  You moaned and squeezed his shoulders as he pushed his hand up.  His palm rubbing into your most sensitive spot while a finger worked inside you.  

                  “It feels real.”  You moved your head forward, wanting the kiss to resume.   He smiled as his hand went to the back of your head.  

                  “Thank you.”  His lips crashed on to yours as his hand went faster.  

                  Your hips started bucking on their own, the friction of his icy palm sending your body into a whirlwind.  The dizzy head came back and you couldn’t continue the sloppy kiss.   Your head fell forward on his chest as your lower body took priority.  

                  “I am here for you.”  He kissed your neck.  “You will come with me.”  

                  “I am going to cum now.”  You were panting as your body began to bubble over.  

                  “Not yet.”  He laughed.  

                  What the fuck?  Since when did your dream turn into an orgasm denial?  Even though he said no, his hand did not slow down and you were about to burst.  

                  “First, I will thank you.”  He scraped his teeth on your neck.  “Then we will leave.”  

                  The word “leave” cleared things up and your body exploded around his hand.  Waves of heat and relief made you tingle as your throbbing slowed.   Apparently, dream man who learned English in a day’s lessons didn’t include slang.  

                  His hand went to your shoulder as his finger left your body making you whimper.  

                  “Where will we go?”  You kept your eyes on him as he guided you to your back.  

                  “Home.”  He stood up and pulled at his robe.  

                  Your jaw hit the ground when you saw what your imagination had dreamed up for his cock.   It was the largest you’d seen in your entire life.  The sight sent more juices to your core.  

                  “Home?” You shook your head.  “I don’t have one.”  

                  “You do with me.”  He leaned over you, making you feel smaller than you were.  “Forever.”  

                  He ran the head of his cock down your pussy and stopped.  You tried to relax as you bent your knees.  He pushed inside, burning and stretching in all the right ways.   Your eyes rolled back into your head as you fell into the mattress.  

                  “Who are you?”  You barely got the question out before you whined.  

                  “Imhotep.”  He bottomed out and rocked his hips into you, his head poking at your cervix.  

                  It hurt in such a delicious way you lifted yourself to meet him, your nails digging into his biceps as he leaned down to kiss your collar bone.  

                  “What does that even mean?”  You didn’t know how you were asking questions when he felt this good.  

                  “It means I am here for you, because of you, and I will be taking you home.”  He pulled out, making you shake, but then pushed back in right away giving your toes a curl.  “You will come with me.”  

                   “Yes.” You let out a moan, the answer in the dream being the same regardless of the form of come he was referring too.  

                  “Good.”  He started thrusting faster, your bodies rolling into each other.  “Enjoy.”  

                  You nodded.  His eyes flashed and then he started going even faster.  Fucking and filling you in ways you didn’t know you could dream of, his cock slamming into you with such speed your entire body felt alive.  

                  It didn’t take long until you were a mewling in chaos. Thrashing to meet him, but hovering in ecstasy.   A layer of sweat formed over your entire body.  All the rocking and pumping made you needier than you’d ever been in your entire life.  

                  “Please.”  It came out as a whisper.  

                  “Of course.”  He placed a kiss on your forehead.  “Take what you need.”  

                  Your eyes popped open at his words.  Take it.  This was your dream and you were ready to cum.   You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, flexing your body up as he railed you.  Holding his cock inside your body at the angle you needed.  

                  The release started to form again.   A coil in your stomach tightening like a spring. You bucked and dug your nails into his arms.  

                  “That’s it.”  He cooed into your ear.  “You will come with me.”  

                  The candle blew out, sending the room into darkness right when your orgasm hit.  Maybe it was that or maybe it was so intense your vision blew.   In the darkness you only saw an outline of him, but you couldn’t focus on anything anyway.  Your head swam with pleasure and your body felt like it was on fire with euphoria.  

                  He let out a grunt and bottomed out, he was filling you, claiming you, owning you.  Your head fell back into the pillow.  

                  “What a dream.”  You regretted not taking the enjoyment the first night.  

                  “Sleep.”  He whispered as he softened inside of you.  

                  It was an order more than an idea.  Your dream vanished and you fell into unconsciousness.  

[a9saga]

when my maternal grandfather died six months ago i made a long rambling about how everything in my life since ninth grade just went full circle and i meant it. i ended up being okay, and i knew i would, but that was all very intensely crashing over me at once.

my grandmother died this morning. other side, my dad’s mother. it was okay, she was safe, she was being taken care of and she was with her children and her husband. i’d only heard she went into hospice yesterday, she couldn’t have been in there for more than a day.

if you know me well enough that i’ve ever talked to you about my family, you might remember i really love my sweet and beautiful little irish grandmother. i do. or even if you follow my blog, she’s made several mentions in my own posts over the years. she’s my biggest role model. i could go on for days. simply put, every trait of mine that i most like about myself is something i’ve had in common with her. and she loved me for the same things i loved in her, i think.

that last sentence is the only reflection i’ve realized upon finally losing her. i only realized that one when my dad pointed it out last night. i was mumbling on my whole spiel about how much i love my grandmother i knew i would be losing within the next day, you know the one i largely skipped in this post because i would have gone on for too long. my dad said that i also brought her so much joy, that she also thought that i was sweet, and beautiful, and it lit her up to see me, etc etc etc.

i’d not thought of that as much. the last many times i saw her, her memory was so far gone she didn’t know who i was or who my mother was. she would generally recognize my dad and she would ask him if he was married and if he had kids. that’d happen every few minutes whenever we’d see her, that she would be going over the list of basic questions. she wanted to enjoy everyone’s presence, and to some extent she did, but it was so hard for her to genuinely partake.

connie was in there somewhere but she was a shell of herself. over the past year, especially in the past four months, it was apparent she was getting exponentially closer to the end.

i always knew she’d be the hardest to lose. i’ve been afraid of it forever. and i think she will be. i have two grandparents left but i just. i just know this one. and it feels only reinforced by my feeling that her death doesn’t change anything.

i have realized nothing new from this. there’s no circle encompassing this moment in my life. at this time i think more constantly what i have always thought of her. i am just devastated to be without her. in place of piecing together what she meant to me, since i was already well aware of that all my life, i am thinking more of how she was years ago. i am not realizing. i am remembering. what i remember is what i’ve thought much less about for a while, because i’ve only been so worried about her now for at least 4 years. at least. and that’s only been my major concerns.

but if there was someone who deserved this soon, it was her. in some respects, for a while i’d felt like i lost her already, such as the fact that she didn’t constantly remember and understand anyone but her husband. she was so weak recently. she just needed to rest.

if you were wondering, she would have turned 91 if she made it to the end of this month. i will be okay, again. i keep tearing up every few minutes thinking about her. it doesn’t last long but it recurs a lot. i don’t feel the disbelief i did with my grandfather’s death. i simply feel awful.

with my grandfather, even in recent months there have been tears, bad dreams, and recently at work an old man came in who looked and moved and talked very much like my grandfather had since his first battle with his brain tumor. those make me sad but much of the time now i just remember that he’s actually gone, not out of sight, out of mind. i’ve made my peace, it’s just more like i largely don’t buy it. he’s not dead, i just haven’t seen him in a while. that’s how it feels and i just remind myself that it’s not true.

well i don’t know that i will think of connie like that in six months. because frank, her husband of 68 years, is going to be alone and no one can bear the thought of how scary that is. he doesn’t know life like this. so if you’re the praying type, please utter his name for me. he’s a very strong man, but he’s very old.

i wanted to say one last thing. remember when i said seventeen was once again comforting me when my grandfather died? well i’ve been listening to cnblue today. i don’t know why. i will not sit here and tell you my cnblue story (although one day i mean to bc oh boy) but i was a fan of them years before i got into kpop, when i was 13. it was the summer before eighth grade. i actually know like, none of their work that they put out after i was 13. i was mostly into their japanese stuff, their korean singles back then were so much more poppy and colorful and i liked them but not as much. i still kind of feel that way. you know what song of theirs i was kinda iffy about liking as much as i did? love girl. oh my god. for the record they dropped that song and album on my 12th birthday, which inherently cursed them (nothing good ever happened while i was 12). i was too not-like-other-girls to deal with the one video of theirs that went too far in making it clear that the boys in this band were cute (ugh). but now i’m listening to that song a lot in particular because it makes me feel very light and pink and warm and homey and to put it simply it fills me with a comfort that i think i need after losing my feminine hero. that doesn’t make any sense but i feel it. i’ve not actually played anything since i started typing this so i’m gonna go back to that now.

ps: any friends or mutuals, if we talk lots or little or we haven’t in a while, are welcome to send me literally whatever. if it’s related to this, unrelated, or whatever, if you are thinking of reaching out to say something i am going to appreciate anything. you can send kind words or a meme or cute animals or a song rec. i will say that i’m going to be quiet for the time being so i may not reply back very quickly. i’m not ignoring you i’m just taking space. i may be like this for a little bit. but if you actually read all of this, thank you. thank you so much.

[fallen029]

Familial Partings

They were both asleep.

The kinda sleep you get when you're tangled up in the blankets (and another person), after having been so tired, so exhausted the night before that you just passed out, eventually, and were dead to the world. The kind of sleep you got when you were completely free of all responsibility the next day and had no intention of awakening at the dawn. Perhaps even noon.

The kind of sleep that typically eluded the cantankerous dragon slayer and pretty eyed bartender.

Mirajane usually had to be down at the bar just as the dark sky began to lighten, in order to properly open up the place for daily business. Laxus, on the other hand, typically either found himself out on a technical S-Class that required him to be up early and, when this wasn't the case, adhered to a strict regimen of training that involved early morning attention. Both were rare to escape these constraints.

But when his woman, his demon, told Laxus the afternoon prior that she was going to be off the entire next day, well, fuck, all his plans went right out the window and all he wanted to do was be with her. In ways they typically couldn't. She giggled at the idea of sleeping in and then going out to brunch together while Laxus imagined their evening together, later that night, with a fancy dinner and, hopefully, a happy ending.

It was perfect. It was great. It was...flawed, because they forgot one essential thing.

"Well, it's over, boss. I'm packin' it in."

They had the least accommodating family/friend group in the world.

"Bickslow, what?" Laxus grumbled as he stood there, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, as he held open the front door to reveal one of his bodyguards. "What's going on? And what's with that box of stuff in your hands?"

"It's for you," he said simply. "And Mrs. Boss. To remember me by. Nice skivvies, by the way."

Laxus refused to be shamed for his special heart adorned boxers from his love in his own house. Still, he did step behind the door a bit more, a snarl in his tone as he questioned, "What's going on? You offin' yourself or somethin'?"

"Nope."

"Right, couldn't be that lucky."

"I," Bicslow informed him as, when the man wouldn't take the box he outstretched to him, the seith instead moved to drop it on his doorstep, "am hitting the road."

"I'm going to hit you if you don't fuck off."

"Ah, boss, you sly dog, you," he snickered as, the five wooden babies to circled the man's head, gave off their own unsettling chuckles. "I loved ya, you know that? The entire time."

"Bickslow," Laxus complained as the seith pushed up his sallet. "Seriously, are you fucking dying or something? Because if this is some kind of ruse-"

"No ruse. Just some man to man loving."

"Yeah, that's great, but I was having some dragon to demon loving and snuggling going on before you started knocking at my door. So if you're all set-"

"After you take this box of my belongings, I will be."

"If that's all it takes-"

"Dragon, what's going on?"

Mirajane was there then, peeking around the door as well. Bickslow whistled lowly, at the sight of her in her robe and Laxus, immediately, took to dragging the woman closer to him with a glare.

"Bickslow here," Laxus grumbled, "was just leaving."

"Mrs. Boss," the seith greeted instead. "Ah, this is so hard. I'm tearin' up, out here. I hoped to just speak to the boss here- No. You know what? I can't anymore. Do this. Call the two of you that. Mirajane. Laxus. Two of the dearest friends I know. We've had some ups, we've had some downs, but I just want you both to know, throughout it all, I saw you both for what you really were; my girlfriend's sister and her sister's boyfriend."

Again, his sallet was pushed up, to wipe an eye, and while Mira was staring in awe of this, Laxus only narrowed his own eyes.

"What exactly is going on here?" he questioned the other man. "Bickslow? What's up with you? Are you high? Or on some sort of illicit drug? Because Freed's the guy you go to with that shit. Not us."

"Illicit- Ah, Laxus. You always were a bit outta touch, eh? Me and my controlled substances. You and your alcoholism."

"I'm not an alcoholic!"

"Well," Mira began and ugh.

"We were quite the pair at one time, weren't we?" Bickslow questioned. "Why, it feels like just a few days ago, we were slinging back shots up at the guild and getting shitfaced while mackin' all all the hot girls."

"We've never done that. Together. And you've definitely never done that at all, with anyone." Then Laxus glanced to his side at the frowning Mirajane and insisted, "Neither have I."

"And Mirajane. Blessed Mirajane." Bickslow sighed softly, his dolls somehow harmonizing with this. "Feels like only yesterday I was sitting up at the bar, while you were there, working the bar."

"I mean," the woman remarked, "that's such a generic memory it probably did happen yesterday."

"Long were the days, huh, guys?" Bickslow whistled low. "I remember, Laxus, the first time we met. There I was, knee deep in your grandfather's pants-"

"What?" Mira asked as Laxus growled.

"Pockets," the slayer complained. "You were trying to pickpocket him and I caught you."

"I'm glad you look back on that fondly as well," the seith snickered. Then, looking to the woman, he said, "Then us, Mira, we were always clandestine, huh? Never could get that timing down."

"What are you talking about?" the woman questioned as Laxus was trying to decide if it would be worth it now just to strike the other man down with some lightning.

"Don't play shy," Bickslow insisted. "Coy. Obtuse. Dense."

"I'm not playing anything," Mira assured him and Laxus, though not wishing to, had to nod at that.

She wasn't.

"I was the one you were originally after," Bickslow went on. "Remember? In the beginning? You were this close to bein' mine and then the bo- Laxus. Laxus swooped in and stole you away."

"I...don't remember that at all."

"'cause it ain't what happened," Laxus assured her.

But, of course, Bickslow only shrugged as he insisted with varying inflection, "Tomato, tomato. What's important is that, after all this, all the ups and downs, all the secrets and stories, revelations and rendezvous. The trips! The adventures! That time I passed around your sex tape like it was a hot commodity."

"Alright, time to leave." Laxus didn't even sound pissed. Couldn't force it. Just took a step towards the other man, menacingly, while Mirajane made a face. "Now."

"I'm goin', I'm goin'," the other man insisted, taking a step back of his own while his babies, always fearful of being struck down by the slayer, flew further back as well. "I just, uh, wanted to give you guys this." And Bickslow kicked at the box then. "It's some stuff, you know? For you guys to keep? Give it to your kid. When you have one. 'cause oh, man, I just know you'll have one. Or two. Or three. But give 'im this. In remembrance of me and all. I probably wouldda been his favorite uncle."

"Bickslow...are you sick or something?" Mirajane asked as Laxus, still tense, eyed the other guy with uncertainty.

"Nah," he told her with a shake of his head. "Nothin' that sad. Just the sadness of partin' from your friends. Your family."

"Parting for where?" Laxus questioned, suspect of the seith's motives.

"Dunno yet, honestly, bo- Laxus." The man frowned then, looking at his feet with a shrug. "Where does a dark knight like me go, eh? When he's done here? A place like here? Fairy Tail. Can't rightly force myself to walk into the hall, get this old thing removed." And his stuck out his tongue, flashing his guild marking. As it was slurped back up, between his teeth, he said, "Think I'll probably keep it for now. A member in name. In spirit. But-"

"Where," the slayer questioned again, sounding more serious now, "are you going, Bickslow?"

"Wherever the big open road takes me." He laughed then, humorlessly, as he shook his head. "My parents were wanderers, you know. Travelers. With a circus! I'm not much one for that sorta thing these days, but I think their restless spirits, their travelers hearts, their wonderlust, its all built up inside of me, leading me on, yeah? I came here, to Magnolia, to Fairy Tail, because I needed a home. And friends. And family. But I've gotten that. I've tasted that. And while I'm thankful for it, for every single person who showed me any portion of that, throughout my years here, it's just time. For me to move on to the next phase in my life. The road's callin' and me and my babies are answering. I'll miss you. Both of you. Especially you, Laxus. But if you came to me, with the same request, I'd grant you with the warmest send off I could think to give. So I hope you return the favor."

They all stood there for a moment, the three of them, while the dolls floated about aimless, but captivated by their father's words. Mirajane and Laxus felt that, honestly. Captivation. He'd never spoken so eloquently, so from the heart, his true heart, not that character he chose to portray when they all got together. This was the real Bickslow, speaking to the real Mirajane and Laxus, and though their relationships all intersected and entwined so heavily, the idea of him unweaving his abruptly didn't bring them hesitance, but rather understanding.

After all, who knew better about the metamorphosis of one's life and standing more than Mirajane Strauss and Laxus Dreyar?

"Oh, Bickslow," Mira gushed as she jumped forwards then, from her place in the doorway, to go hug him. Tripping over the box at their feet in her gusto, she fell into the arms of the man, who hugged her tightly in return, and they weren't the most strained relationship of their Thunder Legion/Strauss sibling power group, but certainly one of the more underrated. But as they embraced that day, tightly, there felt like there was nothing stronger than the bond between them. Into his shoulder, she whispered, "I hope you find whatever you're looking for. Out there. And come back, of course, to visit. And definitely sooner before Laxus' and I have a kid. We haven't even had our wedding yet-"

Laxus cleared his throat then, feeling it necessary, because atop all the other chaos their morning had provided so far, he was not looking forward to either of those discussions again. But as Mira and the seith broke apart, but made something of a face and, stepping over the box, came to at least pat the man on the shoulder.

"You'll do well," he insisted to the man. "Wherever you go. I expect you to. Here or there, you'll always be a part of the Thunder Legion."

He sniffled then, Bickslow did, but didn't raise his visor to wipe his eye. Instead, he nodded at both the duo who were just realizing they were rather undressed to be on Laxus' front porch step, and were slinking back into the house.

"Oh, the Thunder Legion," Mirajane recalled to the man then. "Have you broken the news to them yet? Have they taken it well? I can't believe you're leaving them behind."

"Freed and Ever are both very understanding people," he told the woman simply. "Or, at least, I think they will be. When I tell them."

"Bickslow," Laxus warned, but the man only waved a finger at him.

"Na-ah, man," he chided. "You have no control of me anymore. Remember? I'm going to be a man of the streets again. So keep check of your pants, eh?"

It felt storybook. A fitting end. And though both Mirajane and Laxus, still rather sleepy and dazed by what happened, could stick that moment in their mind and treasure it always. A snapshot of their frequently aloof, but (not) always well-meaning friend. They'd all grown so close, in a new way, the past few years, as the Strausses incorporated themselves with the Thunder Legion, and become much closer to a blended family than groups of friends.

And if anyone in the family were the mother and father figure, it was the demon and the dragon.

When she moved to pick up the box, however, something crossed Mirajane's mind and, as the man wasn't completely off the property yet, she called out to the seith, "Hey, Bickslow, what about my sister? Are you guys going to try and stay together through this?" Then, frowning, she asked, "You're not trying to leave town wtihout telling her, are you?"

"Ah, no, you know it's not that," the man insisted as he glanced over his shoulder. "Me and the kid are destined to be."

"Then-"

"She's coming with me."

And Laxus didn't know why, after so many examples of this never being the case, that he ever thought he could just have a peaceful day at home, with his woman, and no interference from the rest of them. The morons they called their friends. Their family.

How naive. How idiotic.

There was a mad rush then, as Bickslow left, for Mirajane to change into her dress before tugging the still attempting to get dressed Laxus out of their home and all the way over to Bickslow and Lisanna's apartment where she didn't even knock.

Just threw the door open to come and stand just inside, her darkest gaze in her bright blue eyes, keyed in on where her sister was, at the moment, packing up a box in the front room.

Bickslow was standing before Lisanna, clearly having rushed right over to inform the woman of the impending doom that would soon be upon them. And oh, as Mirajane looked ready to wag a finger or two, Lisanna knew it was, without a doubt, upon them.

"Mira," Lisanna started, a frivolous hope to get out in front of something she, clearly, was going about to be steamrolled by. "I was going to tell you, but-"

"When?"

"Well… I was going to leave a note, I mean."

"Lisanna-"

"I have to be my own person now." She shot up, Lisanna did, from where she was putting away trinkets and things. Making a face over at her sister, she insisted, "I need to branch out on my own. Away from you. And Elf. And even Laxus. Natsu. Master. Happy. You've all become such a safety net for me, since I've come back, and it's stifling my growth. You all wanna bottle me up and protect me, but you can't. I'm a grown woman and I can do what I want. I have to do what I want. This has all been weighing on me, on us, me and Bickslow, for so long and we just feel like we've become stagnant here and we need to go, we have to go, to find ourselves, our real selves, and if you take that from me, if you stop me from doing that, then what was the point, Mirajane? Of me coming back? From Edolas? What was the point in any of this?"

While her plea was impassioned, it was not nearly as throughout or planned as Bickslow's from before which is probably why, without even a second of thought, Marianne retorted, "You're not leaving. End of discussion. Dragon-"

"Yeah?" He was standing behind her, hoping to fade away from what was about to be a huge sister blow up, he just knew it was. "Mira?"

"Lisanna is moving in with us. She's not ready to be on her own. Clearly."

"O-Okay, demon."

"No!" Lisanna had seemed nervous, ill-prepared, before, but now she was animated and stalking over to her sister while Bickslow and his babies quickly busied themselves with pretending to pack up as well. "You can't do that. You don't own me, Mirajane."

"I didn't say that I did," her older sister huffed. "But if you're making irrational decisions like this-"

"It's not irrational! I just told you that we've been thinking about this for a long time and-"

"Oh, have you?"

"Yeah!"

"Or has he? Huh? Are you thinking for yourself," Mirajane challenged. "Or are you letting your stupid boyfriend do the thinking for you?"

Bickslow, during this sisterly duel interlude, eventually found himself walking up to the woman, but still out of her perfrials, just to call out, "Hey, Laxus. I was meaning to ask you before-"

"Not the time," the man complained from behind his girlfriend as she stood, berating her younger sister, before him.

"-do you think you and the future missus would mind keepin', oh, all the shit in my apartment while I go on my lifetime sabbatical?"

"Bickslow, what?"

"Also, I'm behind on rent this month and if the landlord sees me leavin', he'll have my hide, so maybe either pay the man or take the stuff outta here under the cover of darkness?"

And suddenly, Lisanna wasn't the only one behind scolded for her dreams of a brighter future.

This was how, as neither the slayer nor demon had thought to close the front door, the others found them. Freed, Evergreen, and Elfman. Though an unusual trio, they weren't so unusual that day as Ever and Elfman had met Freed at the guildhall where, upon finding neither of his sister were working that day, the muscular man suggested they go around and see if each of them would like to do some sort of big, group outing that day. It had been a bit, since they'd had either a party or a nice group dinner. Just long enough that Ever and Freed, while hesitant, weren't completely oppose to that idea.

Which, like Laxus, was their mistake. For assuming they could ever just all exist, all of them, in their Thunder Strauss hybrid, as anything more than jumbled masses of moronic tendencies.

They'd heard the arguments brewing, both between the sisters and the two men, before they approached the still opened front door and, at the sound, all three hesitated for a moment. But then Elfman was rushing forwards because Lisanna and Mira fighting never spelled anything good while Freed rushed to defend Laxus (or save Bickslow; he wasn't too sure yet) and Evergreen had to sigh, the deep kind of sigh she reserved for just such moments where she realized, with certainty, that the choices in her life which led her to this very moment were surely punishment for some past life transgression.

Surely.

It was the only answer.

It took a bit to settle things out. Laxus was agitated, now twice over, and Mirajane was near hysterical over the thought of losing her sister, which only, in turn, revved Bickslow up and, for Lisanna, put her in the same state as her sister. Freed and Elfman, though they wished to help, did little as Freed, immediately, set in on Bickslow about irresponsibility and his proneness to it while Elfman, being a Strauss, quickly became just as hysterical and oh, Evergreen hated being the only level headed person in the group.

"Enough," she finally barked at all of them. It was less her voice though and more her slamming the front door of the apartment behind her that caused them all to pause, just long enough for the woman to give them all a harsh glare from behind her glasses, as if tempting them to remove the barrier. "Look at you. All of you. Why do we always have to be like this? It's almost as if we shouldn't all be around one another if-"

"Yes!" Bickslow, who at the moment had his shirt balled up in Laxus' fist, who was lifting him slightly off the ground. Turning in the slayer's grasp, he grinned over at where Evergreen stood by the door. "That's what me and Lissy are sayin'. It's time to move on."

"I'm confused," Freed admitted, taking a step back then. "I thought Laxus was berating you about rent?"

"I," the slayer grumbled as, anger fleeing, he tossed the seith back down to the ground, "am."

"But-"

"Who cares about their rent, Laxus?" Mirajane cut Freed off. Turning her dark eyes on her boyfriend then, she said, "They can't leave. Do you hear me, Lisanna? You can't."

"Where do you even wanna go, sis?" Elfman asked, eyes wide and pricking with tears already. "Huh? And runnin' out with him-"

"I'm," Bickslow complained from where his babies floated about his head, fretting, as he laid crumbled on the ground, "a catch."

"She risked catching something from being with you, anyways," Ever muttered with a frown.

"We're just going away," Lisanna insisted then. "For awhile. That's all."

"That is not all, Lisanna," her older sister retorted. "Bickslow came over and told us this big, long monologue about how he's going to go off, for years even, to go find himself or something. And if you're going with him, then what? You're planning on being away for years too? He gave us a box of things to give to our child to remember him by."

"Your what?" Elfman, suddenly, wasn't so focused in on his younger sister. Eyes darkening as well, he stomped over the small apartment towards Laxus. "You! Knockin' my sister up before even marryin' her-"

"You better stay away with from, Elfboy," Laxus retorted simply, turning to face the larger man with a glare. "I'm ready to fucking end all of you."

"A child?" Freed, who'd had his hand on his hilt before, when speaking to Bickslow, had drawn his sword at the oaf's approach of his idol, but lowered it some then as he looked to the oldest Strauss sibling. "Mirajane, are you with child?"

"I got a potion that can fix that," Ever offered her dryly as she inspected her nails.

"What?" She was wholly confused now. "No, I'm- Well, I guess you can never really know-"

"You better fucking know," Laxus retorted while Lisanna looked to her boyfriend.

"You did what?" she questioned as Bickslow only scratched at his head.

"I told you that I couldn't leave without seein' the boss one last time," Bickslow said.

"See," Lisanna insisted. "Not rile up. Or tell our plan."

"Your plan? So you were going to do it?" Mirajane shook her head. "Just leave in the middle of the night. Just like that. Just a note. And be gone."

"You don't understand," her younger sister replied simply. "The note would have explained everything. Probably way better than Bickslow would have."

"Yes," Freed mused absently. "As it is, I still cannot discern whether this imagined pregnancy has sprouted from."

"Don't care," Laxus retorted. "Better not leave this fucking room."

"Unless," Mira sang, thoughts drifting from her sister and to something far more precious.

"I'm telling you," Evergreen insisted to the slayer. "A few drops from this potion and-"

"So should I pummel Laxus or not?" Elfman griped.

"Not," Freed answered, "unless you want to be skewered."

"Don't worry," the slayer grumbled. "Wouldn't happen in the first place, Elfboy."

"You-"

"I'm not pregnant," Mirajane finally decided to declare for all of the interested parties. "And even if I was, that's not what this is about. Lisanna, if the two of you are going on some stupid vacation for awhile, fine, but Bickslow said it would be years before we saw you again. Is that true or not?"

This, finally, seemed to be the tense moment all the previous actions were building towards and Lisanna took a breath, a short one, before nodding her head at her sister and remarking, "It is."

"Lisanna." Elfman, finally, came to rush back over to his younger sister. Tossing his arms around her, his anger for Laxus was immediately washed out by his fears for his younger sister's future. "You can't do that. Just run off like that. For years? How am I supposed to go on, huh?"

"Well," Evergreen remarked simply, "you did get a trial run."

When this resulted in a look from Freed, she merely huffed and rolled her eyes.

"You're not thinking," Mirajane declared for her younger sister. "At all."

"You have no idea," Lisanna retorted, "if I am or not. You just don't like the idea because the tow of you want me to stay here forever."

"Yeah," Elfman agreed. "We do."

"Why," Mirajane questioned, "is that a bad thing?"

"We want it for ourselves," their brother kept up. "Don't we, big sis?"

"We do," she finished.

"But I," Lisanna insisted to them both, struggling her way out of Elfman's vice grip, "don't. I don't, okay? I like Fairy Tail. And I like Magnolia. But it's all I've known since getting back from Edolas. And that's not what I wanted for myself, when I returned. I wanted to see the world. To live. To really live. Again. And I have the chance to do that, with my boyfriend, who I love. We can travel around, experience new things, all together. The way I always imagined. And...I know I should have talked to the two of you about it before, that this is all so sudden and unreal to you, but the only reason I didn't is because I knew what you'd do. How you'd act. And look! You're doing it right now. I'm not...leaving to hurt you. I'm leaving because I need to. Fairy Tail's fine. My life here is fine. But I want something more. You both already found your more and that's great, but… It's my turn. And I need to do it without you. Both of you. I love you. And I'm sorry. But I'm going to go no matter what you say."

This felt like a rather touching moment for the Strauss siblings and, as Lisanna looked deeply into her older sister' similar blue eyes, she saw the flare die out in them before, eventually, Mirajane moved closer, dragging her sister towards her, and as the two embraced, Elfman only stood by, crying softly into his hands.

It was observed by Laxus and the others, silently for a moment, before suddenly, something seemed to occur to both Evergreen and Freed.

"You're," Freed questioned with a frown at the other man, who was finally shoving up and dusting himself off, "leaving?"

"For years?" Evergreen couldn't help it. She was hurt. And it was so hard to get her to that state, that painful reaction to the actions of another, but oh, man, she was reeling then. Coming closer, she was practically spitting as she accused, "And you were going to not even say anything? Just leave us a note? How dare, Bickslow? How fucking dare you?"

And suddenly, the humerous aspect of the Strauss siblings getting so worked up over something wasn't as funny or observational as it was previously. Experiencing it now for themselves, Freed and Ever both went through their quickly cycling stages of grief while Laxus, put out by both groups, watched with a frown.

"I'm not," he insisted when, in the end, Mirajane and Elfman released their sister and Freed and Evergreen both tapped their friend in the arm, "paying their back rent. Or keeping this shit in our house."

"Oh, dragon, yes you are," Mira decided for him with a frown and, though he didn't wish for it, he was weak to the woman's commands.

The demon still had some hold over her sister as well, as it turned out, and marched her down to the guildhall to give a proper farewell to her friends as well as explain her plans to her master. Laxus, however, got stuck on Bickslow duty, which meant helping him figure out his rent situation as well as, with the help of Freed and Elfman, carrying boxes back to he and Mirajane's place.

Evergreen was thankful for the attention never rightly being placed upon her and slunk away to escape either such fates.

Still, they all met when the time came, down at the train station that evening. Elfman was sobbing and Mira looked about ready to do the same, but both Bickslow and Lisanna felt far better with this arrangement than either had about sneaking away under cloak of darkness. Wouldda been fitting, Bickslow felt, for a dark knight such as himself, but sometimes, even the darkest of knights gotta tap into their emotional side.

And boy, Laxus seemed to have ruptured his own.

"Awe, dragon," Mira mused staring up at the man as he rubbed at the tears in his eyes, watching as Bickslow and Lisanna gave one last wave before boarding their train. "You're gonna miss them too, huh? You big softy."

But it wans't that. At all. Rather, after paying way more than just one missed months payment on rent, Laxus had a feeling it wasn't so much the oppressive nature of stagnancy the pair were escaping, but rather some other unpaid loans. Which, no doubt, Mirajane would stick on Laxus. And the second he paid them? The pair would return, but need money to do so, given they fled so far, and he was trying to start a life with his demon, have that little baby demon she was so craving, but fuck, how could he, when she was bleeding him dry?

Laxus wasn't crying for Lisanna and Bickslow's departure.

He was teary-eyed over their eventual return.

Still, it was rather lachrymose that evening, when they all went out to dinner together. Just the seven- Five. Five of them.

It felt incomplete.

"Well," Mira said after taking in a deep breath, seated at the table and looking around at all who were left. "This is for the better, right? Nothing happens without change. Progress. And they probably won't even be gone that long. I bet. So...we shouldn't be too sad. And Lisanna's right. She needs a chance to grow all on her own. Away from us. And it makes perfect sense to send her away with a man who plays with wooden dolls and seems to have some untreated, underlying mental deficiencies and… Dragon...tell me we did the right thing."

Dropping his menu, he moved to lay a hand on the woman's arm as he said, "Honestly, Mira, I have no idea."

"Laxus-"

"I don't," he insisted as the others frowned at him as well. "But I didn't know about gettin' with you. But I'm glad I did. I didn't know about hanging around with your family so much, once we were together, but that's turned out for the better. Wasn't sure how to feel about it, when your sister and Bickslow started getting so close. That's worked out fine. Wasn't sure about how I'd feel, when I came back to the guild, all those years ago, after my time away. I'm thankful I did. And fuck, I didn't know what to do when that stupid kid pickpocketed my grandfather all those years ago, but bringing him to the guild, introducing him to Freed and Evergreen? That was the best thing that ever happened to any of us."

"What Laxus is trying to say," Freed interceded, "is that you don't know, when someone's happening, if it will turn out for better or worse, but you must allow these things to take place. Or you turn out as Lisanna and Bickslow both feared; stagnant. It will be an adjustment for us all, but… I am content in Bickslow's reasoning and need for a departure. Should I return, I hope to welcome him with open arms. Should he not, I wish for the moments where I miss him to be filled with the same understanding I currently hold. Were our lives a reverse, I'd hope him, and all of you, to send me on my way just the same."

"We're mages," Evergreen offered simply though she did sound rather down and would spend the next few days staring into full wineglasses rather than empty. "We roam. It happens."

"Lisanna's such a man," Elfman insisted though, honestly, he seemed to still be attempting to assure himself of this fact, no doubt attempting to fight off the fading shock over the whole thing. "I bet she'll do great out there in the great unknown."

"It's part of life, demon." Laxus moved to pick his menu back up. "Leaving. Coming back. Going again. This might be home, but...sometimes you just need something else. Something you can't find here."

Mirajane nodded, a sad yet understanding one before, softly questioning, "But what happens if of the rest of us go? Or if we all go? Then what?"

"We pay less," her dragon tried to raise her spirits, "when we go out to eat."

But it didn't seem to work.

Still, Mirajane had dealt with and lived through far worse sudden changes in her life. In the grand scheme of things, this one hardly felt that momentous at all. So the days went on and then it was weeks and, slowly, things fell back into a new normal.

A month was approaching when Mirajane was given another day off and, the night before, she and her dragon were sure to spend it well. Which led to them being rather lazy the next morning, in rising, and when they both did wake, even, it wasn't out of a desire to.

No.

Rather, they both felt it.

A presence. Multiple. In their house.

"Oh, gosh, Laxus, put some pants on."

"Oi, boss, don't flash my woman, alright? Lissy's innocent."

The slayer, in his haste, stumbled into his kitchen that early morning in the nude only to find the intruders that sat around his kitchen table, eating bowls of cereal weren't exactly strangers. In certain ways, as he uncharacteristically blushed and rushed back out of the room, he kind of wished they were.

"What," Laxus growled, "are you doing here?"

"We have," Lisanna retorted as she shoved her bowl away, no longer hungry, "a key."

"For fucking emergencies!"

"Lisanna?" Mirajane had strode into the room by then, thankfully in a robe unlike her counterpart. "Oh, it is you!"

"Yeah, sis," Lisanna giggled as the older woman rushed right over to toss her arms around the younger. "It's me."

"What are you doing here though?" Mira questioned before, as she hugged her sister tighter, deciding, "Never mind. I don't care. Oh, I'm so glad to see you. I just don't… Are you both okay? Or-"

"We're great," Bickslow assured her, his babies lying dormant on the kitchen table. "It's a strange thing though; after camping out in the forest for a few weeks, we suddenly realized we kinda, well, you know."

"I know?"

Lisanna titled her head back up in her sister's grasp. "We like living in an apartment."

"Or a house," Bickslow said. "The worst part of going out on a job, after all, is the campin'. Why'd we think that we'd like it as the entire entree? Who knows. But now we're kinda homeless and-"

"Mira, no!" Laxus suddenly began to yell from the other room, running in to stop what he could hear, could literally feel, beginning to start. "Don't do it! Don't-"

"You can stay here," she giggled as he was too late, always too late. "With me and dragon."

"You mean it?" Lisanna questioned.

"Until you get back on your feet, sure," she agreed and he'd been wrong.

To cry.

To allow his hubris to get in the way.

Because, yes, he wouldn't have liked to pay to get the pair of them out of a jam, but oh, this wasn't going to be a jam, was it? The two of them living with him? This was going to quickly turn into never-ending torture.

"Still can't call you boss, I guess," Bickslow snickered with his tongue out, babies floating about as they mimicked this noise in a haunting fashion. "Not Laxus' either. Nope. Landlord it is!"

He should have stayed asleep, the slayer should have. Always. Any time. Whenever they were near, whenever they were close, he should just shut his eyes and pretend they were there. Like a little kid thinking he'd seen a ghost. Or an adult knowing, yet forcing himself not to believe he'd seen a ghost.

It didn't quite matter. Whether your eyes opened back up or not. Reality was reality. And Laxus, after all these years, had finally been duped into becoming the thing Bickslow got over on the most.

A landlord.

"Everyone's back together," Mirajane cheered, that evening, when they had all the rest of them over to celebrate.

While Elfman embraced his sister and Freed and Evergreen grilled Bickslow on his misadenvuter the past, oh, less than thirty days, Laxus only sat sullenly on the couch, watching with his head in his hands as the demon patted him on the head.

"Yeah, demon," he grumbled softly to himself. "They are."

.

It had been a bit. And everyone knows the first rule of every sitcom; at the end of the episode, everything goes back to how it was before. This was inevitable.

[wo-wann-was-wer]

WHAT I WAS THINKING: DARK SEASON 3 EDITION

EPISODE 1:

Who are these dudes with the harelip and what do they want

Why did she just take him to a cave and leave that’s kinda rude

So everything in this universe is just gonna be backwards. Love it

Ugh I’ve said this a million times but this show has such Fringe energy and I can’t wait to get a tattoo for this too

This is super freaking me out, i dont like that everyone’s in everyone else’s house.

Ooooh Katharina with glasses yes girl you better work.

I like Michael and this hat he’s rocking

Super into the fact that magnus and fransizka are involved in this universe too

There’s nothing cuter than sex before school. Ahhh the nostalgia

Ten bucks says that Hannah gets out of this bed and is pregnant

Fucking YEP

I am loving Martha in this Jonas journey

I know that all they did was flip the lens of the camera but my brain is breaking at this flipped Winden

Who the fuck is this random dude Martha is with

You know what he kind of looks like Jonas. I wonder if that's relevant or if I'm just grasping at straws

Bartosz looks like he's going to his first grade violin recital

I straight up just did not recognize Charlotte with makeup. She looks hot

There's got to be another person in that picture other than Ulrich because that's a lot of space to rip out for one person

okay hold up Woller looks so good and then when I saw that he was missing an arm I almost lost my fucking mind

Oh shit okay Hannah is living in Katharina's house.

Oh my God are Ulrich and Charlotte having an affair

Is it normal in Germany for kids to just walk into classes that aren't there’s and just sit down

follow up he has a clear noose mark on his neck

Aleksander looks so hot with this beard. universe B is the fucking glow up universe

It's weirding me out that the whole school is black and gray instead of light brown

The look of satisfaction on katharina's face

Wow honestly Louis just broke my heart with his facial expression when he realized his mom didn't know who he was

he looks so scared

Yes yes do it afffffffffair

Oh no you done got found out!!!

Oh the theme of the play here is red and set of gold

Fransizka looks so cute in this little outfit

Oh my God she's deaf!!!!

What the fuck. the fact that this actress can talk is blowing my mind

RIP to Regina a real queen

Peter's a fucking priest

All the fucking weird-ass freaky motherfucking trio is back

The dopplers have the same house That's cool

excuse me sir I think your child is broken

these guys are so creepy What the fuck

I definitely don't like the piano wire

oh this motherfucker is the one who gets lost

I feel like winden in this universe is just a little bit fancier

Well Charlotte and Ulrich just be fucking like crazy

Bartosz is the Jonas of this group and I love it

who was that??????

I cannot get over Aleksander in this beard

I like that things are opposite but they also have things that are different enough.

Like I'm so into the fact that they all went down into the bunker

who in the unholy fuck is that. who is that

Oh shit old Martha

What the fuck is this Tannhaus’ factory we're at

hold up Martha's in 1888

What the fuck. why is Jonas in 1888 and looking SO good

EPISODE 2:

casually sitting over your bed watching you sleep

he's look so good though

yo what the fuck everybody else is there too

Oh no things got really ugly at Mads’ wake

Not for nothing but Tronte is a dick

I kind of don't understand why Claudia would want Regina to live in such pain in this type of universe

Peter is such a good boy

lurking is the freaking national past time of this place

Oh shit we got some spin-off timeline stuff good

who is This is blind guy

I love Katharina so fucking much

I know what she's thinking and it's the same thing I'm thinking which is can I kill a child

why does this picture of Tronte make him look like Jimmy Smits

Katharina looks amazing in this jacket

Also I definitely did not just start yelling GO GET YOUR MAN KATHARINA

Regina just gets more and more badass as time goes on. Also all of the women of the tiedemann family are so fucking badass

I am so excited to watch this fucking relationship develop. they're both too cute

awwww he's using signs!

oh they're writing back and forth

DAMNIT PETER

I always feel like little Noah should do fuckboy sign offs when he leaves rooms because he's so smooth

yesterday Laurel said that this was back to the future but serious and just now Bartosz said it's not super easy to get nuclear fuel in 1888 and now I think that Laurel's right

I will never get over how good he looks JONAAAASSSSSSS

This guy feels like the OG inventor of sic mundus right

Katerina why are you even trying to check in at the front desk bitch Go and get your man

Is this Katarina's mom why does she just recognize that woman's name

everyone on the show is so talented.I spend the whole damn time being like oh my god the performances on the show and it's like yeah we know

Katerina get your man

I literally love them so much look at the look on her face She is a mama bear She is not going to let anybody take her man or her children and I love her

Not a huge fan of people who quote Shakespeare right before they kill other people or am I an enormous fan of people who use Shakespeare right before they kill other people

using a garotte to kill someone is ugly as fuck

I feel so bad for Jana

see this is one of the reasons why I'm like why would you bring Regina back to this world.

wowwwww TRONTE what's up dude

YO WHAT

Oh so how did Charlotte get back there but Elizabeth's still there too. didn't they switch places?

oh the head bump

Not excited for the mother daughter abuse stuff that's about to happen

I love these split sequences that they do at the end

anytime somebody stands and stairs for a lonely at a spot on the ground I assume to somebody died there

Oh shit that guy is a tannhausokkkk I see you

a religious images we love to see it.

This show is a whole series of pause that frame.

No I ruined something for myself!!!!

EPISODE 3

got to love those through and through Ariadne references

okay so Charlotte's great great grandfather has her watch?

who are these horrible traveler human beings

they look like less sexy Francis dolarhydes

I can't get over the fact that wollers missing an arm here I swear

we ARE the glitch BITCH

alternate universe Ulrich is a better person than standard Ulrich

what's this new like zoom-y thing they're doing

I was attracted to Magnus at this jump of the show but he looks better with dark hair

How did they not all die of fucking flu

eternally repeating deja vu

I looked at the production stills and I was like what the fuck is this hair do that Moritz has but he looks amazing

Also everyone on this show deserves an acting award

and Magnus is wearing a skeleton sweater

Hannah does that deep dive detective work any bitch knows the Nose doesn't lie

why doesn't anybody want to fuck wöller

omgggg eat the RICH

also he has that x tattoo on his hand that represents the no future thing

oh the light is rectangular and not circular ooooooh fancy

The show is also a lot of people catching each other's wrists as they walk away

I knew we couldn't trust this bitch

What did he give her

I love the parallels and characters behaviors between universe a and universe b

I want to know how Noah factored into all of this on this side

Martha has a type and her type is iconically Aryan

Oh Aleksander's back with that beard he's back

Hannah is such a snake

Omg that's her!!!!! I thought she was a trans actress.. hm. not super happy bout that :/

What is Helge talking about Ulrich did what??? omg

I would be like SIR DO WE NEED TO FIGHT STOP FOLLOWING ME

I stopped taking notes for the last half of that episode cuz I was really sucked in haha

EPISODE 4

FIRST OF ALL I'D LIKE TO GO ON RECORD THAT I DON'T CARE FOR THESE GENTLEMEN AT ALL

second of all why is this guy being like oh I took your name

why does he have Agnes's bracelet I don't like that

I don't like anything about this guy That's the end of the story

Also hold up a red hot second is Agnes dead cuz if so that's a hate crime

see what did I say

I knew that Hannah was going to get involved with Egon

from the second she walked in that office I was like that bitch has her eye on him and as she should he's handsome as fuck

Also he spoils her so much more than any other man she's ever been with AKA is Egon the only man she ever deserved

Is Hannah going to develop a heart cuz I'm not sure how I feel about that

Also what happens if Hannah gets pregnant

why is Ines a bitch I thought she was mad cool the beginning and now I feel fucking deceived

Also it's such a sweet gig that The kids who are playing kids can now play teenagers

poor Doris. Also he was shitty to her but he was far nicer than I would have been

Doris is so beautiful it's bullshit

older Magnus is so handsome

All I wanted was middle-aged Martha

bitch you have been having unprotected sex with him why do you think that pregnancy was not on the tabl

I'm like who's this guy in the church if it's not Noah I bet it's that little bitch

yeah I fucking knew it

Is this the dude that was married to Agnes I feel like this guy isn't real or something

I'm not surprised he let her go but I don't know why I'm not surprised. I feel like she's important to his timeline and I'm not sure why

look at these relationships forming between these sweet little bab

Hannah looks good in this red. Hannah looks good in all of these styles. 

who is this child

I like that already as a child Bernd had his eye on Claudia as someone who was smart and had a ton of potential

 I keep forgetting that I'm taking notes because I get so invested in episodes

Also I realize the zoomi thing which is going back and forth between the universes

Is Agnes Silja’s mom And if so with whom 

he gave her Agnes’ bracelet that dope All right Tronte

Wow Claudia needs to back off her man

Claudia force him into a relationship with her

I fucking hate Hannah but sometimes she speaks so much sense

ooh I don't need anyone Yes girl that's true You don't need anyone You needing people was what made you act fucking crazy You don't need anybody

This was always my big problem with Hannah was that I initially identified with her because she was such a survivor but then she did such horrible reprehensible things I just couldn't let it go and I absolutely couldn't identify with her anymore

Oh here's my daddy Noah looking so good

I mean okay so I have been in this position before where I was cheating and then my man cheated on me and I was like how dare you but also you cannot be mad if your partner cheats on you when you cheated too. You both fucked up

Is Hannah going to have a redemption arc cuz that's a lot

Oh my God she's not going to get rid of this child is she

Oh my great God I cannot believe that she gave Helene that necklace. 

I knew she was fucking connected to Katharina in the older generation I knew it

Louis and Lisa are a super cute couple and I know that they're not dating in real life but I think that they're very cute together

Oh everybody fucking

yeah they created the Apocalypse yeah

Oh no they have a child outside of worlds that's a mess How does that work so they had they gave birth to that ugly fuck

honestly I hate that he's their child for the most part just because he's ugly as fuck and neither of them are ugly as fuck so it makes me mad.

[smkkbert]

Time for a story - Green Arrow’s EA

Staring at the small clock at the edge of the desk, Felicity willed time to just pass more quickly. The more she wanted time to fly by, the more it felt like the hands of the clock were slowing down even more though. The last thirty minutes had felt like an eternity already. The next thirty were probably going to feel even longer.

The soft knock at the door made Felicity lift her gaze. The sight of Emily’s corny Christmas pullover with the reindeer and the blinking red nose tickled another smile from her. It was never different when she saw her Executive Assistant in that or any other pullover that she was wearing around Christmas time. There was just something really amusing about that look.

“Why exactly did I decide to work these two days between Hanukkah and Christmas again?” Felicity asked. “I feel like I didn’t do anything productive today.”

Emily smiled. “I think you wanted to establish company holidays from the first day of Hanukkah to the third of January, but the board decided against it. They said it was too long and exaggerated given the Holiday bonus you are paying.”

“And since when exactly do I care what the board says?” Felicity asked, narrowing her eyes. “Because I can’t remember when I start caring.”

“I doubt that you ever cared or ever will care,” Emily replied, her smile turning into a proud grin as she loved her boss’s rebellious side, “but you couldn’t attend the board meeting to the end, so it got kind of forgotten.”

Felicity puckered her lips. Now that Emily had reminded her, she remembered. She had indeed suggested this during a meeting with the board. Before her idea could have been discussed to the end, she had been needed at the bunker though. The last weeks had been exhausting. Felicity felt like she had just rushed through the days.  She had simply forgotten about her plan.

“Screw the board,” Felicity said and dropped her pen to the desk, “we will call it a day. Please call every department and tell them that we will close early for the holidays. It’s a paid leave of course. Everyone should be at home and prepare for Christmas or use the time recover from Hanukkah or just spend time doing whatever the hell they want if they aren’t celebrating any holidays. Either way, nobody should be here.”

“Gladly.” Emily smiled widely, happy about the unexpected turn since she had mentioned before that she wasn’t done shopping the gifts for Christmas yet. “There is a visitor for you though.”

“A visitor?” Felicity perked up her eyebrows and shot a brief glance at her schedule, but she hadn’t had any appointments planned for today. “Who?”

“Mr. Christian Rodgers,” Emily replied, “he said he needed to talk to you about a rather private matter.”

Felicity frowned. She tried to figure out if the name should ring a bell, but she couldn’t say that she remembered anyone with that name. There wasn’t even the slightest familiarity to it though.

“Ask him in, please.”

Emily nodded her head and turned onto her heels, walking outside. Felicity shot another brief glance on her watch before she got up and walked around her desk.

“Mrs. Queen is waiting for you,” Felicity heard Emily’s voice, “please go right in.”

“Thank you.”

Felicity tried to make any connection between that warm voice and the name, but there was nothing she could remember. Even the face wasn’t familiar. If Felicity knew Mr. Rodgers, she was sure that she’d remember him. There was something about his face that reminded him of her maternal grandfather, not that she had ever met him. She had just seen photos.

“Mrs. Queen, thank you for your time that soon before the holidays,“ Mr. Rodgers said, shaking her hand, “I am sure you have a busy schedule.”

“Actually, I was just calling it a day,” Felicity explained with a smile and gestured towards the seating area, “because working between the holidays is just so annoying.”

Mr. Rodgers chuckled and sat down on the black leather couch across the table. Felicity crossed her legs and leaned back. She watched her visitor quietly for a moment. He was fidgeting with his hands nervously, avoiding her eyes. He looked nervous and insecure.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Rodgers?”

Mr. Rodgers lifted his gaze towards her. He still looked nervous like the bare thought of talking to her unsettled him. Felicity smiled at him softly though, hopefully giving him the courage to speak. Even if she couldn’t do anything for him at the end, she didn’t want him to think that she would eat him alive. Something told him he was kind of a good guy.

“My sister-in-law, Amelia Rafferty, was murdered last month,” he said after taking in a deep breath, “she was just found dead in her home one morning.”

Felicity nodded her head slowly, unsure what to say or where this was going. She faintly remembered that she had read about that case a couple of days ago. The police had done what they could, but they hadn’t been able to find out who was responsible for her death. Felicity didn’t remember anything about the case or the circumstances surrounding her death.

Mr. Rodgers did look honestly sad about his family’s loss. His hands rubbed together between his thighs and his shoulders sank.

“I am very sorry,” she whispered, “that’s terrible.”

“She was killed with two shots to her chest,” Mr. Rodgers continued, his smile breaking, “the police said it looked like it was done by a professional killer.”

Felicity nodded her head slowly. Two shots to the chest required a really cold-blooded killer or a fight that had caused someone to act on impulse. If the police suggested that it was the first, she was sure they were right. Usually, the latter was more obvious, so there had to be reasons that the police still suspected a professional killer was responsible.

“I just don’t understand how that’s possible,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, “Amelia was such a wonderful person. She has never gotten into any troubles with anyone. She was the easiest person to be around, someone who held no grudges and was happy when the people around her were happy. She was a really good person.”

When a good person died that cruelly, it was always terrible. It was unexpected for everyone around her, leaving those people closest to her devastated and with broken trust into the world. In a fair world, bad things wouldn’t happen to good people.

“My wife is devastated,” Mr. Rodgers added and shook his head with a sad smile, “she lost her parents at young age. Amelia was the only family she had left after that. Now she has lost her too. It’s… I am worried about her.”

Once again, Felicity nodded her head. When Sara had died once again, Laurel had been devastated. Despite all the differences between the two sisters, losing Sara had been almost unbearable for Laurel. They had stuck together through so much in their childhood, youth and after Sara’s return after the Gambit. Their relationship had been so deep, and her death had seemed to pointless.

What had helped Laurel was finding out why Sara had been killed. Just like it had helped Nyssa. Although Sara’s death had still been devastating and the circumstances surrounding her death had caused a lot of chaos for the Lances and the Queens, knowing who was responsible for it had at least helped everyone to direct their anger in the right direction. It had helped them to recover from their loss, at least a little.

Felicity shook her head slightly, shaking off the thought of Sara’s death. This wasn’t about her or the Arrow Family. She just didn’t know what else it was about.

“Your sister-in-law’s death is tragic, and I don’t want to be insensitive to that,” Felicity said, clearing her throat, “but I don’t understand what exactly you expect me to do now.”

That questions seemed to be the very trigger for the Mr. Rodger’s nervousness. He moved back and forth on the couch, rubbing his sweaty hands along his thighs. His eyes were taking her in intensely, but his smile gave away how insecure he felt in this moment.

“The police told us that they wouldn’t continue to investigate this case,” Mr. Rodgers explained with a shake of his head, “because there are no leads to follow. There is no motive. There are no traces. There is nothing that could help.”

Felicity nodded her head slowly, telling him that she understood and listened. She still didn’t see where this was going, but she had an open ear nonetheless. If she could help this family to find a little bit of peace before the holidays, she’d do it.

“I have been to the police station yesterday to try and convince them to continue. Captain Hall was great. She took her time and listened to me, and she explained to me why it doesn’t make sense. She assured me that they would still follow every lead if there was any, but there was nothing left to be done right now. She was honestly sorry.”

A small smile spread on Felicity’s lips. Mr. Rodger’s had all reason to hold grudges against the SCPD and everyone working there. That McKenna had managed to prove that the decision hadn’t been easy for her looked like a good sign. Quentin must have chosen wisely when he had suggested her as his successor.

“On my way out, a cop took me aside and told me that maybe the Green Arrow could help.”

Felicity could almost hear the little alarm bells in her head starting to ring. She had thought that a warm and grandpa-like face as his couldn’t mean any harm. Now she wondered if maybe she had been wrong. It wasn’t the first time that people noticed her connection to the Green Arrow and used it to threaten them.

“He also said that if I wanted to get in touch with him, maybe you were the one to help me with it,” Mr. Rodgers explained, “so I wanted to ask you to contact him for me and ask if he can do something to find out who did this? My family would forever be grateful.”

Felicity felt every inch of her body tensing the more Mr. Rodger’s spoke. Maybe she had been wrong and he wasn’t the good person she had seen in him. Maybe all his talk about his sister-in-law and how much his wife was suffering hadn’t been true. Maybe it had all been made up to break down her reserve.

It’s been a while since they had been hunted by the police or anyone else the last time. Maybe all the police had been trying to do was making them think they were safe while they were secretly going after them. Without Quentin at the head of SCPD to inform them about what they were planning, all Felicity could do was trusting her stomach and that told her that something was fishy here.

“Who exactly told you this?”

Felicity leaned back slightly and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She tried to buy some time with her question. The thought that maybe Nick had sent Mr. Rodgers here crossed her mind at least briefly though. So far, there was still a chance that her worry was without reason.

“Officer Juan Alvarez.”

Apparently, it hadn’t been her brother’s idea to send her here. There were just two possibilities. Either Mr. Rodgers was lying and this was a set-up, or Felicity’s connection to the Green Arrow was, in the words of Professor Dumbledore, a complete secret, so, naturally, the entire city knew. Felicity didn’t know which one should make her panic less.

Felicity had been taken to the interrogation room to answer questions about the Hood once. Quentin had basically caught her on the street and taken her to the SCPD. She had been so nervous and so scared. Still, she had kept her mouth shut because she had known exactly what she had been fighting for.

By now, Felicity knew even better that what she and the team were doing was right. She didn’t have any doubt about it, and she would feel a lot safer if she answered questions about him now. With the thought of all those people that would lose their jobs and the children that would lose their parents if she spilled anything or if she trusted the wrong person.

When Susan Williams had blackmailed them, causing Oliver to turn himself in, their entire life had been turned upside down. Felicity wasn’t sure if their family could go through something like that, especially with a good ending like they had had. They’d been lucky once, but twice? Felicity wasn’t sure, and she really couldn’t tempt faith like that.

“Maybe those rumors were wrong,” Mr. Rodgers suddenly said, clearing his throat, “I am very sorry that I bothered you, Mrs. Queen. Happy Holidays to you and your family.”

Felicity watched Mr. Rodgers getting up and tightening the belt of his coat around his middle. He shot he a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes that were filled with sadness and defeat. She had been his last hope, and she had turned him down.

With one last smile in her direction, he turned around and walked towards the door. Felicity managed to watch him take exactly three steps before she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wait.”

Usually, Felicity had a good feeling for people. Of course she wasn’t without mistake, but her stomach told her whether or not to trust someone most times. She might have her blind spots, especially when it came to heartbreaking stories like this one, but Oliver had once told her that her belief in the good in people was one of the many reasons that he loved her so much. Her faith in people balanced his mistrust.

Mr. Rodgers had turned around and was looking at her with eyes full of hope now. Felicity should be damned if she was wrong about him. She wouldn’t turn into someone that doubted everyone around her out of fear. Fear would never be the emotion to run her actions.

“I can’t promise anything,” Felicity said, “but I will do my best to make it work.”

→ → → → →

Under Oliver’s vigilant eyes, Felicity walked back and forth in her working area of the bunker. She was gesturing wildly with her hands while she was telling him everything that had happened in her office before. Oliver was listening closely, keeping his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes narrowed down on her slightly.

“So,” Felicity said eventually, “what do you say?”

She stepped towards Oliver, putting her hands to his forearms. She leaned her body against him completely and looked at him intensely. No matter how many doubts she had had before, she was sure now that Mr. Rodger’s story was honest. He really just wanted her to contact the Green Arrow to make piece with what had happened to his sister-in-law.

“Maybe she just knew something that she wasn’t supposed to know,” Felicity continued, shrugging her shoulders, “or maybe she had a secret double-life. I know I could look into it myself, but it would be so much easier if you helped me.”

Oliver looked at her for a moment longer before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her even more against him. He frowned slightly, cocking his head.

“Have I ever turned you down if you asked me for something?”

“Repeatedly,” Felicity replied without hesitation, “when I ask for junk food for dinner.”

Oliver chuckled, brushing his lips against hers. Amusement was sparkling in his eyes when he leaned back a little to look at her.

“Of course I will help you,” he said instead of answering to her little mention of junk food because he just knew that it would get them into trouble, “we can look into it tonight.”

“Good.” Felicity nodded her head. “Sounds great.”

Continuing to look at Oliver, Felicity could see the furrow forming between his eyebrows. She frowned and lifted a hand to his forehead. Her fingertips stroked against the furrow in an attempt to smooth it out. No matter how firmly or how often her fingers stroked against the little crease in Oliver’s skin, it didn’t disappear though.

“What’s going on?” she asked, locking eyes with him. “Why are you looking like that?”

“Because I am worried,” Oliver replied firmly, “it really doesn’t sit well with me that people make a connection between you and the Green Arrow.”

Felicity cocked her head, chuckling softly. She put her hand to Oliver’s cheek and stroked her fingertips through his short stubble. Oliver almost purred like a kitten at the touch. He rested his face into her hand and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked so incredibly at piece that Felicity couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s almost like in old times,” she said eventually, prompting Oliver to open his eyes again, “when I was your EA.”

“The good old times.”

Pursing her lips, Felicity punched his side playfully. Even if she used all her strength, she doubted that Oliver would even flinch. He was used to fight trained assassins. Everything she could do was like a little tickle in his experience.

“What was that for?”

Oliver rubbed his side, pretending to be hurt by her little punch. He was a father of five, so he knew exactly how to react to that kind of teasing.

“Because you said that those times were good,” she told him pointedly, shaking her head, “there was nothing good about those times. I was way overqualified for the job.”

“Of course you were,” Oliver replied easily, rubbing his hands up and down her arms gently, “but we spent almost every minute of every day together and I had a great view on your ass.”

Felicity chuckled, resting her forehead against Oliver’s shoulder for a moment. If she remembered something about her time as his EA, it was that she had been terribly annoyed by the littler work she had managed to do. She had let out all of her frustration at him because he had been the one who had gotten her into this situation. The passive aggressiveness had run high between them.

When Felicity angled her head back again eventually, looking at Oliver with a soft smile, she could see that his thoughts were still at the risk of security for their family.

“If people make a connection between you and the Green Arrow,” Oliver said slowly, “it’s only a matter of time until you are made a target for the police or criminals.”

Felicity continued to stroke her fingers through Oliver’s stubble. She hoped that it relaxed him at least half as much as it relaxed her.

“It was easier if they made that kind of connection between the Green Arrow and the mayor,” Oliver said slowly, the expression in his eyes turning blank although they were still directed at her, “and if he was used to get into touch with the vigilantes.”

Frowning slightly, Felicity watched Oliver. Soon, her lips spread into a smile.

“You’ve got an idea,” she stated, seeing it in Oliver’s eyes, “you know how to solve it.”

“Maybe,” Oliver replied, looking at her, “but I could need your help.”

“Always.”

* * *

@fannaz @promiseyoullbepatientwithme @bytemegeekette @felicity-said-just-in-case @phanseptiic @orangeisorange @mspotatohead14 @whentheheavenfades @emmaamelia95 @smoakingskye @seaolicity @ourwritinginvein @1022bridgetp @felicityqueenforever @leagueofolicity17 @yryssss @myhauntedblacksoul @sherlock44 @sinceriouslybea @olivyflavescentdeer @olicitys-castle @ofnothingcharming @vaelisamaza​ @smoakedandcharmed @alexisa1206 @mysaudadespt2 @florence-bubbles​ @addictiontelly​ @queens-of-arrows​ @memcjo​ @hysterical-for-joshifer-blog​ @oswinelevenforever​ @olicitylovemaking​ @bandanab310​ @mymusiclove101​ @lynslogic​ @scarletqueen23​ @olicityshipper19​ @alex-wesley​ @arrows-4ever​ @unabashedlynerdypatrol​ @louehmysoul​ @ligiapimenta​ @chattyyana​ @charlie-leau​ @coal000​ @samcrowleys​ @ishippolivia​ @julianegomesqueen​ @malafle​ @miriam1779​ @charlinert​ @melaux​ @ontheolicityship​ @myshipperlife​ @wrightainsley​ @lexi9515​ @ladygreenwood​ @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl​ @morinamel​ @mje-thomas​ @kebarry​ @canadianheartgirl​ @nannett2307​ @almondblossomme​ @kathrynelizabeth89​ @imdfabulous​ @mrt2501​ @arsipaci14​ @salasvia​ @brandis91​ @cainc3​ @morganmiguess​ @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl​ @iamisalima​ @nessafrancis-blog​ @jonhdiggle​ @niki-is-amazing​ @universed-posts​ @hopeful-warrior​ @senoritaswiftie​ @bellemmie @green-arrows-of-karamel​ @iheartarrow​ @olicityovereverything​ @oliverfel4​ @olicity-in-the-heart​ @fullychippedcreation​ @geemarie​ @everything-but-normal-cat @myarroworld​ @tjmartinez​ @pleasantfanandstudent​ @j69confessional2​ @scentedcolorpirate​ @icanica74​ @tjmartinez98​ @certainmentalityface​ @tatianadamaceno @ryelew @wildwillowzepplin​ @missafairy​ @letsplaymurde-r​ @lipizette​ @positivepiper​ @nuttymilkshakehologram​ @laksagirl​ @turnupthemusicandscream​ @pumpernickle93​ @onceuponanolicity​ @1106angel​ @jaspertown​ @fadinglands​ @morganashimi83​ @mochababychristy​ @omglovechrissie​ @mariejr88-blog​ @thetaufactor​ @onceuponanolicity​ @speakandseethetruth​ @bri206​ @aglasgo​ @geemarie​ @pineprincess​ @nerdgirljen​ @eternal-olicity14​ @allyouhadtodowas-stay-stay-stay​ @lovelycssefan​ @tsseract​ @flowerandsunshine​ @dcnmarvelgamergeek​ @blondeeoneexox​ @monetsmark​ @bb-olicity​ @mashamarty​ @rulerofsilence​ @erika-amber​ @nothingmorethanmyotps​ @kayleenyc​ @tonto16​ @olicityfluv​ @olicitea1990​ @haahaaa2408​ @pattid1​ @faegal04​ @24karatgem​ @wrldtravler​ @readerkas​ @olicity-beliver​ @greencoffeecups​ @snorlaxishere​

(If you want to be tagged or untagged, just let me know. :))

[twdmusicboxmystery]

10x11: Morning Star - Details

Okay, let’s talk details. I’ll go chronologically.

***As always, spoilers abound below for 10x11. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

The very first thing we see in the episode is Beta collecting tree sap. They dig into the trees and collect the sap into these little…things. They kinda look like animal bladders to me, but I have no idea if that’s what they actually are.

It’s this tree sap that they use to start things on fire during the battle. My first thought on seeing this was of Tyreese. Back in S4, Carol put tree sap on his arm and it helped heal him. I think it’s got anti-fungal properties and that’s why, but still. It’s a healing agent. And I even want to read into the fact that they had Lizzie and Mica find it. Only because of the parallels/anti-parallels between them and Beth. I think we could argue that a Beth proxy found the cure for Tyreese. And I honestly don’t remember another time we’ve seen the tree sap symbol used. It’s not very often that they use it.

So then I googled to see if tree sap is really flammable, and it is. I found this: 

Also, if you’ve read @frangipanilove​’s tree trunk posts (I’ll repost them later in the week) you know how important tree trunks are in general.

But here’s the thing that REALLY jumped out at me. Once it hits—and EVERYONE gets drenched with it—Jerry smells it and literally says the line, “It smells like a Christmas tree.” Cuz, you know, pine sap.

So we have an agent of healing, that BURNS, a Christmas tree reference, and it’s used as a weapon. 

That’s like fourteen rabbit holes all rolled into one.

Okay, let’s switch gears to Eugene. 

There’s a clock behind Eugene that seems to read 1:33. 

So me and @wdway​ and @frangipanilove​ all discussed what this might mean. First of all, this is definitely a Slabtown clock. What I mean is, this simple, white, plain wall clock with regular numbers (vs. roman numerals or no numbers at all) isn’t seen very often. The biggest time it was seen was with Beth, when she woke up at Slabtown. The only other time we could think of where we saw this particular kind of clock was in 7x08 when Daryl escaped the Sanctuary, which was also super important.

My brilliant friends came up with a few possibilities of how we could interpret this. We looked at it point to S1 ep3, S3 ep3, series number 33 and series number 133. For me, I lean toward the 1:00 hour pointing to S1, but I had to figure out the right way to interpret the minutes, because S1 only had 6 episodes. So I think you’d have to divide the hour by only 6 episodes. And assuming that’s the case, the clock is almost exactly half way through the hour, which would suggest ep 3. And what happened in 1x03? Rick reunited with Lori and Carl. So we’re looking at a symbol of reunion. More than that, they believed Rick was dead. He got left behind by them. Um…in Atlanta? So we’re also talking about a resurrection theme.

Then @wdway started talking about the clock in Still. Remember that Beth and Daryl passed the grandfather clock in the golf club. The first time, it said 2:52. When they passed it again, it struck 3, which means 8 minutes had passed. I interpret that as 8 years passing before Beth returns and they “reunite.” But @wdway made the very good point that all the 3s we see around Beth could well be pointing toward reunions, just as Rick had the original reunion with his family in 1x03.

So then I re-watched the episode and I noticed something else.

When Rosita comes upstairs looking for Eugene and ends up answering Stephanie on the radio, it doesn’t focus on the clock like it does on the first, 1:33 clock, but we do see the clock again very briefly in the background and it says 2:00, so roughly half an hour has passed. So that reminded me of the passage of time in Still. And while it’s not a 3:00 clock, it is drawing closer to 3:00, right? But there’s something else I thought of, too.

When I first thought of the 1:33 clock pointing toward 1x03 my first thinking was a little flawed. I didn’t immediately think of Rick’s reunion with Lori. I thought of the fact that that’s when Daryl first came into the show. And I sort of leapt from that to it being a Bethyl thing. Then I had to stand back and go, “wait. That doesn’t hold up because Beth didn’t show up until S2. Okay, never mind.” But of course the Rick/reunion explanation works very well.

But now looky, looky. We have a 1:33 clock (Daryl debuts in 1x03) and a 2:00 clock (Beth debuts in 2x02.) Just saying.

I think those are the biggest things I noticed on re-watching. Here are some more minor ones:

In this pic, Zeke is totally in a crucifixion pose, and then they talk about “dying tonight,” which is at least partly a sex reference, but I won’t get into that. He’s sort of taking a martyr pose here, and I think this is yet another way they’re pointing at his looming death fake out. I have no idea how it will come about, but I think they could be setting it up with this battle. I’ll come back to that.

Zeke gave Henry’s armor to Lydia, which is a lot like Carol giving Daryl Beth’s knife after she did. Something of hers that he fights with.

I also noticed Eugene made a Waterloo reference, which is a famous battle.  I was thinking they might use it as a template for this battle. I looked it up and nothing huge jumped out at me, but I don’t think we got far enough into this battle to know for sure either way, so no sense in getting too excited about it yet. 

I’m going to address a Caryl theory. I really don’t go into the tags myself, but others do and send me things to get my take on them. So, this is a detail I totally missed, and I actually think it’s a stellar observation. In this scene, there are 8 windows behind Daryl and Carol, and the 7th one has a light on in it.  A light in the darkness is definitely a Beth thing, right?

Well, the shippers are actually counting this as 16 windows because there’s a top and bottom pane. Which means the light is on in the 14th “window.” They’re interpreting that as ep 14 being the one in which Daryl and Carol will finally hook up and live happily ever after. (Please give me a minute to control my laughter.)

But as I said, I do think it’s a good observation. Maybe it does point to something happening in ep 14, but it won’t be Daryl and Carol hooking up. If we count the ACTUAL number of windows (8), that’s the number of years it’s been since Coda. And having the light on in the 7th window actually supports biblical Christian symbolism. 7 is the number of perfection and therefore the number of Christ.

And as I said, I don’t mind the “episode 14” possibility. It just won’t be a Daryl/Carol romance thing. I think the only way to save Carol at this point is if Zeke lives, and I think he will. So what does that mean? Maybe in 14, he’ll go to the hospital and discover that he can be saved. Something like that.

But the thing is, I think there’s a good possibility Beth will be involved in that, too. 

Predictions:

So here’s the thing, guys. I now we’ve come up with a million ways in which Beth might return. I know I’ve campaigned for it being through the Michonne/Virgil story line. And it might still be. There’s no way to know for certain. But I have a really good feeling about this Eugene story line as well. I mean, they’ll be going to a hospital. One that filmed at the same location as Grady. And there are other clues I’ve mentioned above and yesterday: the fact that Charleston is at the crossing of two rivers. The fact that there’s water involved at all. The fact that we see a clock representing reunions, and then time passes. The fact that Eugene “loses” Stephanie for a short time after Rosita gets on the radio and then finds her again by singing to her. (Remember Daryl’s “I Never” line about never singing out in public.)

So I could see this playing out like, Zeke, Eugene, and Jerry go to the hospital and Beth is there and Zeke also learns that he either doesn’t have cancer or else that it can be treated fairly easily through their radiation. I also think he (and possibly Jerry with him) will get a death fake out in there somewhere. But Beth’s return would “save” both Daryl and Carol emotionally. Remember my post about the clock in Edwards’ office. Because Beth saved Carol at Grady, I think her arrival will save Carol in some way here as well, though it will probably be emotional/psychological, rather than physical. I’m just saying I can see this story line leading to that. Will it? That remains to be seen.

Also, I mentioned yesterday that this is a replay of 4b, in which everyone will scatter and end up in small groups, right? Well, that’s been pretty much confirmed by one of the sneak peeks, in which Aaron and Luke (who is injured) are out in the woods together and run into Negan, who doesn’t seem to be with the Whisperers right then, either.

And I think this thing with all of them running around in the woods could easily lead to Zeke’s death fake out, or else to Negan saving Judith in some way, which was foreshadowed in 9x16.

I also talked yesterday about the Glenn theme, right? Let me say a few words about that, and then I’ll stop for the day.

I was re-watching the scene in 5x10 where Maggie opens the trunk and sees the Beth walker. I was actually looking for something else entirely, but it struck me in a way it never has before, and in a way it couldn’t have before this season.

Maggie opens the trunk, then gets freaked out and shuts it. But the walker is pounding on the inside so she goes back to kill it, but of course it gets stuck. Glenn comes to help her. He’s the one who opens the trunk and kills the walker and then leaves the trunk open. Kind of like this? 

 But 2 things about that jumped out at me. Maggie left…and then returned. How many times have I said that Lauren’s absence from the show, no matter what they try to infer about her contract, has been long planned? I think this represents that Maggie would leave for a short time and then return before she truly understands what happened to Beth (i.e. that she lived).

But it also strikes me that Glenn being the one to open the trunk for her is important. Now, I’m not saying Glenn is secretly alive and we’ll see him again in the show (unless it’s a flashback) but I think he’ll be important somehow in helping Maggie understand the truth. I don’t know how that would manifest in the show, but I was thinking about that, and then in this episode, the camera focused on Glenn’s portrait, and Daryl starred at Glenn’s grave, and we know Maggie is returning in 10b.

See what I mean? So I don’t know what this all means in terms of events in the show, but I’ll be keeping an eye on it.

Also, if you haven’t, watch THIS deleted scene from 10x11. It has major shades of Still in it. See if you can spot them. ;D

I’ll stop there for today. Thoughts?

[badwolfwrites-sometimes]

Drawn Together: Chapter 12

Feliciano might be overreacting a bit over this.

He was currently sitting on his phone, waiting for Elizabeta to respond to his slightly angry messages over not even giving him a hint of what to expect. Poor Ludwig was left on read.

Feliciano was excited, he truly was, but for some reason he was scared. Ludwig Beilschmidt was extremely close to being his new favorite author and then he messages him and Feliciano is freaking out because he does not know what in the world is he supposed to do. Responding is a good way to start, but what should he say in order to not sound like a weirdo? Now he knew how fanfiction readers felt like commenting on their favorite stories.

Maybe he should rule out 'have my babies' as a possible answer...

While he was having his meltdown, he failed to notice that it was suddenly night and Elizabeta responded.

Lizzie: Well... Lizzie: In my defense I did tell him not to say that Lizzie: Keep his identity hidden

Okay, Feliciano was furious now.

♡~Feli~♡: You could ve at least warned me ♡~Feli~♡: Like idk hes not what he seems feli ♡~Feli~♡: Or something like that

Lizzie: Sorry  *sad face emoji* Lizzie: Lud has no experience talking to people online Lizzie: So I didn't want to burden him with being too careful about being a writer Lizzie: But he really wanted to talk to you so please don't feel weird around him Lizzie: Pretty please Feli ♡

And now he felt bad. He was acting like an asshole to his friend who was just trying to help her own friend. And Ludwig was still waiting for a response.

Artisloveandlife: Hi Ludwig! Artisloveandlife: Tbh when Lizzie said she had someone who wants to talk to me I was kinda expecting a fellow fan Artisloveandlife: Talking to the author themself is a big deal so I'm sorry if I'm awkward.

Feliciano didn't even get a chance to rest his phone.

Lutzie71: You are not awkward. Lutzie71: But I have a question. Lutzie71: Who is Lizzie?

Artisloveandlife: Elizabeta. Artisloveandlife: Does she go by a different name now?

Lutzie71: I am sorry. Lutzie71: I am just used to calling her Betty.

Artisloveandlife: Don't apologize  *big smile emoji* Artisloveandlife: She used to go by a lot of nicknames in middle school so... Artisloveandlife: Did you know that her real name isn't even Elizabeta? Artisloveandlife: It's something like Erzebet??

Lutzie71: Erszebet. Lutzie71: I asked her.

Artisloveandlife: Elegant, are we?  *laughing and crying emoji* Artisloveandlife: But you call her Betty like Otto and Alice. That's so cute!

Lutzie71: Yeah... Lutzie71: The character Elizabeta was made after her. Lutzie71: She was pestering me too much about it.

Well, that's kind of cute.

Artisloveandlife: That sounds like Lizzie. Artisloveandlife: But why did you want to talk to me? Artisloveandlife: I don't think authors normally do that.

Lutzie71: Well, you painted that beautiful piece of art and I have been looking for someone to do a cover for it and the second book. Lutzie71: So I thought I might ask.

Feliciano almost flipped another table at that. There is going to be another book?! For real?! He was only stopped from flipping things by Lovino calling him angrily. Right as he was texting Ludwig at that.

Lutzie71: I apologize for asking such a private question, but you never told me your name?

Well, of course Feliciano would forget something like that.

Artisloveandlife: Feliciano. Artisloveandlife: Sorry, I forgot. Artisloveandlife: Call me Feli.

Feliciano made his way downstairs as quick as he possibly could, just to see what his brother wanted from him now. He noticed two brown heads instead of one.

"Hey Toni!" Feliciano said.

Both Lovino and Antonio turned to face Feliciano. Lovino's face was as if he just ate a whole lemon and Antonio looked slightly worried. "We need to talk." Lovino said simply.

Feliciano nodded, feeling his phone vibrate, but he couldn't respond right now. That would piss Lovino off. "What is it?" He asked.

Lovino sat on the couch, motioning for Antonio and Feliciano to sit as well. Feliciano chose to sit on the stairs, a gut feeling telling him something wasn't right. He wondered if Antonio and Lovino had a fight, but when Antonio sat down next to Lovino, wrapping him up like a blanket, he relaxed.

"You know how Nonno is coming home tomorrow?" Lovino asked, not looking at Feliciano.

"Yeah." Feliciano answered. "Will you two tell him?"

"That's why we're talking to you." Antonio responded, interrupting Lovino as he was about to open his mouth and respond. "Feli, I don't know if you know this, but coming out is a big thing. And it only becomes harder when your heart is already devoted to someone." He squeezed Lovino closer to himself. "If something goes wrong, it's not just you who gets hurt. They get hurt as well. And it takes a good amount of time to properly come out to someone, so-"

"Keep your mouth shut, Feli." Lovino interrupted.

Feliciano nodded, he wasn't planning on saying anything anyway, but now he was more scared than ever of what his brother would do if he even let a tiny bit of it slip. "Can I go back to my room now?" He asked.

"Do the dishes first." Lovino said with a smirk.

Feliciano groaned. "But I did them yesterday!"

"Well, Midget isn't here right now."

"You can do them once in a lifetime!"

"Can't. I have a guest and important business to attend to."

"Making out isn't a business!"

"Neither is art."

Feliciano gave up before it escalated into a fight. He checked Ludwig's message before turning up music to do his work.

Lutzie71: Feliciano has a nice tone to it. It means 'happy one', doesn't it?

It was nice to see that Feliciano wasn't the only person in the world obsessed with name meanings. At least now, he isn't alone.

Once Feliciano was finished with the dishes, he sneaked up to his room before Lovino could give him another task to accomplish. He really just wanted to text with Ludwig right now, a thought of a great friendship growing in his mind. He sat on his bed and responded.

Artisloveandlife: Yess! Artisloveandlife: You know your onomastics, I like you already!! Artisloveandlife: I look forward to working with you on the book!

Lutzie71: So you accept my offer?

Feliciano giggled. Cute.

Artisloveandlife: Yup! Artisloveandlife: On a condition that I get to read it before anyone else.

Lutzie71: You would have to fight my brother for that.

Artisloveandlife: Ahh I don't like to fight...  *sad face emoji* Artisloveandlife: I'll read it after him.

Lutzie71: I just asked him and he said you can read it first if you paint him a portrait of himself. Lutzie71: In a Prussian uniform from 1770s.

Artisloveandlife: Deal! Artisloveandlife: I have no idea what he looks like but I'll do my best!

Lutzie71: He looks like an idiot. Lutzie71: And he's passed out on the floor now.

Artisloveandlife: Is he alright?

Lutzie71: Yes, he just had too much alcohol. Lutzie71: He looks rather comfortable next to our dogs.

Feliciano gasped.

Artisloveandlife: You have dogs?!?!?! Artisloveandlife: Can I see them? Can I please see them? I love dogs!

Lutzie71: I suppose you can. Lutzie71: Let me just figure out how to send you a picture.

Feliciano waited, smiling to himself. It's been a while since he talked to someone online, he almost forgot how exciting it would feel. Moments later, he got his response.

It was a lovely picture of three dogs perfectly nested with a white haired man. They were all ranging in size and colour. Feliciano didn't know much about dog species so he chose not to assume what they were. Them being super cute was what won Feliciano over, as he was on the floor with his legs high in the air, smiling and making strange noises whales would probably understand.

Artisloveandlife: THEY ARE SO CUTE!!!! Artisloveandlife: THEY MUST BE SO FLUFFY!! LUCKY!! Artisloveandlife: Also is that your brother?

Lutzie71: Unfortunately yes. Lutzie71: They aren't really fluffy, but they are rather cuddly.

Artisloveandlife: If this was anime world youre brother would be dead.  *dead face emoji* Artisloveandlife: SO CUTEE!!

Lutzie71: Oddly enough, you are not the first person who made that comment. Lutzie71: Also, I apologize but I am not sorry for this. Lutzie71: Your*

Artisloveandlife: Ah, thanks. Artisloveandlife: English isn't my first language so I make mistakes. Artisloveandlife: Whats the difference anyway??

Lutzie71: Your is for showing possession. For example your brother, your sister, your car, ect. You're is a short form for you are like I'm is for I am. Examples are you're driving, you're cooking and so on.

Artisloveandlife: You explained that like a teacher.  *smile emoji*

Lutzie71: A lot of people get it wrong. It is a common mistake.

Artisloveandlife: Is that why you type them out every time instead of shortening them?

Lutzie71: You could say that. Lutzie71: In any case I must go, my brother would just continue sleeping on the floor if someone wasn't there to carry him. Lutzie71: Good night, Feliciano.

Artisloveandlife: Lol Artisloveandlife: Good night Ludwig. Artisloveandlife: Remind me to send you a picture of my lovely babies  *yellow heart emoji*

Lutzie71: I will.

For the first time that night, Feliciano looked at the time. It was almost 2 a.m. He had been so engrossed into his conversation with Ludwig, he hadn't even thought about how late it was. There was no way he could even fall asleep after all that.

Before he knew it, morning came and he hadn't slept for a second. Instead, he spent the entire night rereading his texts with Ludwig, still in utter disbelief that he's talking to an actual author he admires. Most of his favourite authors have been dead for the past 800 years. Serves you right for liking Dante so much, Feliciano.

He decided to make something to eat and relax nicely. Their grandfather was coming home today so that means there's tons of cleaning to do and no time to rest. He turned on the TV and decided to watch some cartoons.

"Feli." A voice called for him.

"Feli, it's noon. Wake up." Someone was calling.

"Wakey, wakey, little Feli~" A melodic voice was calling, demanding that he wakes up. Strange, he wasn't even-

Feliciano opened his eyes to messy brown hair and a smile. He fell asleep? When? It didn't matter right now anyway, since he was awake.

"Morning, Toni." He smiled.

Antonio messed up Feliciano's hair. "Good afternoon, Feli."

"Those jokes suck. Stop it." Feliciano joked, adjusting himself in a different position on the couch.

"Never!" Antonio sat next to him. "Lovi is asleep too and Meo escaped somewhere again. I guess it's up to us to fix this place for your grandpa."

Feliciano looked around. Sure, there was dust everywhere and probably a good amount of spiderwebs, but overall, the place was actually less of a mess than it could be. "It's fine like this. He'll only stay for a few days so it doesn't matter."

Antonio pinched his cheek. "It does matter. He's your grandpa. Now, are you going to help me clean or are you going to wake Lovi up, soldier?"

Feliciano didn't even give it a thought. "I'll help you clean!"

"Good!" Antonio smiled.

"But first, let me check my phone." Feliciano said, already reaching for it on the table in front of them. He had a notification from Tumblr.

Lutzie71: Good morning, Feliciano.

This was sent at 9 a.m. Feliciano admired Ludwig's skill to wake up so early after talking to each other till so late.

Artisloveandlife: And a late good morning to you too  *smile emoji*

Ludwig's response was almost instant.

Lutzie71: You are just like my brother, only you actually woke up.

Feliciano giggled, catching Antonio's attention. "Who is it? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?" He asked, a huge smirk stuck on his face.

Feliciano's ears grew red, his smile shaking. "Just a friend." He answered.

"That's how it always starts." Antonio commented before getting up to make himself some coffee.

Lutzie71: You told me to remind you to show me your babies. Lutzie71: I am very curious to see if they are comparable to my dogs. Which I doubt.

Artisloveandlife: Meanie Artisloveandlife: Let me find them first.

Feliciano got up and searched around the house for his "babies." They were actually two cats, a grey one and a white with brown spots one. Both were Feliciano's. He got them for his 20th birthday after 20 years of begging. He found them asleep in the 1st floor bathroom and, without much thinking, snapped a picture which he sent to Ludwig.

Lutzie71: I must admit their adorableness. Lutzie71: However, they aren't nowhere near my dogs.

Artisloveandlife: Big meanie. Artisloveandlife: Pookie and Gino are worthy of being the greatest cats in the universe Artisloveandlife: Even witches' cats are afraid of their power.

Lutzie71: They still can't compare to my dogs and their wisdom.

Artisloveandlife: Im beginning to suspect that your dogs wrote your book for you

Lutzie71: I will not reveal such secrets.

Artisloveandlife: So they did  *smiling and crying face emoji*

Lutzie71: Okay, jokes aside. We know Aster, Berlitz and Blackie are superior, but Lutzie71: I am curious about what you thought on the book. Lutzie71: My brother complained that it was too cringy.

Artisloveandlife: We never agreed to that tho Artisloveandlife: It was a bit cringy at some parts like those romance bits Artisloveandlife: Even tho I fangirled like there was no tomorrow because they were meant to be with each other Artisloveandlife: But overall it was a really good book Artisloveandlife: You were a bit immature in that field so it made me laugh a lot

Lutzie71: I guess it helped in getting my point across.

Artisloveandlife: Point?

Lutzie71: The innocent suffer in wars. Lutzie71: I wanted to write about the soldiers who have their families and lives which they had to leave behind in order to die for a cause irrelevant to them. Lutzie71: Because what we remember from them is always just a number. Not their lives or their deeds, just whether or not they make the number of deaths increase. Lutzie71: I wanted to point out that they are so much more than than. More than a number.

Artisloveandlife: That Artisloveandlife: That is really meaningful Artisloveandlife: But why did you choose The Thirty Years War? Artisloveandlife: Wouldnt it be easier to just use World War 1 or 2??

Lutzie71: Because, unlike them, The 30 Years War was a long time ago and people have mostly forgotten about it. Lutzie71: That's not the case for the World Wars. Lutzie71: They are still far too fresh in the world's memories. Lutzie71: There's also the fact that I am German which is why I felt wrong writing about the wars my country mostly started. The 30 Years War was a result of an unstable situation in Europe. Lutzie71: You could say that I was afraid of writing about the World Wars.

Artisloveandlife: This converstation took a turn for something really depressive

Lutzie71: Conversation*

Artisloveandlife: Sorry Artisloveandlife: My fingers slipped  *smile emoji*

"Feli! Are you helping me or not?" Antonio called for Feliciano, startling him a bit. He was still in the bathroom, on the floor and petting his two kitties as he read Ludwig's messages.

Artisloveandlife: Im gonna have to go now Artisloveandlife: My grandpa is coming home after a long trip and we have to clean the whole house Artisloveandlife: Which is a lot Artisloveandlife: Ttyl Ludwig  *winky face emoji*

Lutzie71: I have no idea what that means. Lutzie71: Good bye, Feliciano.

Feliciano raced to meet with Antonio for a spring clean up, not even noticing new messages from Ludwig. He was reluctant to clean the house now, eager to return to texting his friend, but he had to put some of his excitement into a good use. His Nonno was coming home and for the first time in a while, Feliciano had made a new friend. One that he intended to keep.