#... only to become (?) someone who would go on to cause great suffering and spread an incredible amount of darkness throughout the worlds ..

[ashessonfire]

if you’re still looking for headcanon requests: what about kaz and reader who is disabled/suffers from chronic pain? i don’t often see x reader fics include things like disabilities, and it’s really quite nice to have found a character like kaz whose struggles i can relate to - ty <33

Kaz Brekker x (Chronically ill) Reader - Headcanons <3

- Paring : Kaz Brekker x Chronically ill! Reader A/N - Thank you so much for this request, and absolutely this is important, and i suffer from multiple chronic illnesses and pains too! I am basing it off my own experiences, which is chronic illness, but i hope it's general enough for anyone to relate to :) ════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Kaz Brekker's image is one that permeates throughout the whole city, not a soul is unaware of the leader of the Crows

His limp only adds to the terrifying image, broken and twisted in every element of his being, yet completely unrelenting.

However, privately, his leg causes Kaz excruciating pain, a constant ache that never seems to cease, fatigue from stumbling around for too long, or the cold inducing agonizing flares of pain.

As a result, Kaz has become familiar with the aches and troubles, so when his partner reveals they experience something similar? Kaz suffers from a great mixture of hurt and relief

Why is he relieved you may ask?

Well, the bastard of the barrel can finally offer someone a sense of comfort and support, which in most things he finds practically impossible to do.

Sharing the experience with Kaz would offer the both of you solace, although at first it may come across as if he doesn't notice your constant pain.

However, very swiftly small pots of expensive medicines would arrive neatly wrapped on your bed, his cane would conveniently be placed close by during a flare up, and your favourite foods would mysteriously make their way to you, helping to brighten the tougher days.

Kaz is not a man of words, at all, however he would work on verbalizing his concerns, reading you easily and offering clipped but gentle check in's, like :

"How is the pain compared to yesterday?"

"I'm not going out soon, take my cane just in case"

"The painkillers are already in your drawer, I had Inej replace them this morning"

In terms of severe pain, both chronic + caused by a disability, please expect to never move a muscle - he will 100% get someone else to run around and do everything for you, especially when he himself is struggling.

If you care for him in return, you may even get a few faint smiles - he would be so deeply grateful for your attentiveness and devotion (but obviously it's Kaz, he won't show it freely)

Another reason i believe Kaz would be relieved, is that someone would finally understand his own disability and pains

You would be able to return his gestures, offering him the same sense of security and compassion, without overbearing sympathy or pity - something Kaz detests

Just after he broke his leg, I can vividly picture the pigeons of the barrel dramatically cooing at the young boys limp, explaining their sorrows for him with overwhelming pity

After this, he would undoubtedly threaten any sorrow for his condition with an excruciating death

Let's just say word spread quickly, and few dared to repeat this offence...

Kaz would also have little diaries tucked away in his office and at the slat, detailing each symptom of yours during flare ups - allowing him to prepare anything you could possibly need when the next one arrives

Kaz would feel more at ease with you than anyone else, and would likely share his own hardships with you - knowing that the pair of you can relate on a level few others could match

Honestly i just know that he would be in a strange way very relieved for you to understand his own struggles - allowing for him to be more comfortable with you overall <3

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P.S : As a chronically ill person myself, I just wanted to say that my requests will always be open for ideas like this, and my private messages are open for anything. If anyone is experiencing any form of chronic illness and needs someone to talk to, I am here for you!! It can be super isolating and difficult, especially when those around you cannot understand your struggles, even if they try to. Hopefully this post can find all my spoonie crow fans!! <333

[victoriadallonhater]

Regent's power in Weaverdice

This is for my oomfie. Everyone else, fuck off.

(it's a joke)

Alec is a fun character with quite a bit of depth, but his power is quite a fucking headache. Like what do you mean you just become better at messing with people over time. How do you mechanize that? I mean, I know how, but that can be hard to think about if you are new to the system. Weaverdice is really not made for powers that get better over time or that offer finer functions, so let's pretend it does here!

Regent's power with interruption

I think if someone asked me to play Regent, I would raise an eyebrow. I would only let it happen if you're a fucked up traumaqueer (flattering) working through stuff, and not like I don't know a guy who wants to do weird shit to people. I mean, it's fine in certain context. but I don't work there. So if you are a traumaqueer, this one is for you.

Alec's power is to control people through their nervous system, and he has some sort of information relay back to him. He gets better with it over time, meaning he can only do small things with other people until it's him taking over their entire body. That progression isn't entirely clear, so I have to make it up! And that's unironically great because I can do some fun shit. Also, he has body sensing powers, and I don't remember the range because I am not a Alec Scholar. So, let's go.

1. The cape has the ability to control the bodily functions of people who are physically nearby and conscious. These bodily functions range from twitching legs to causing vomiting. Each can be blocked from their victim as a DC 4 Guts. For each successful mastering, the cape gains a token on the target. When collecting ten tokens through one or several encounter, Regent is capable of using their body.

Nearby is just 'is in the same physical scene as the player'. Like are you in the same room? Yes. Are you in the same street? Yes. Are you on the phone? No. Then, the victim can also resist the mastering through a roll, which is good to have written down. Also gaining ten tokens is rather easy, sometimes, but then again, it may not be if you think about it. You have teammates who will knock them out their victims.

Interlude 1: What is a DC? It means difficult class, and it means what the roll needs to be. If it's DC 4, it means you need to get a four or higher. If it's 3 or below, you fail. 4 is the average in Weaverdice because it's a D6 system. Depending on your stats, you may roll with a +1 or -1, and very rarely with a +2, and even rarer with a -2. Let's say you have 4 Guts, you roll with a +1 to Guts roll, and if you had 2, you roll with -1.

Additionally, I added a token mechanic to explain the 'I can make them do whatever I want' portion of the power later.

2. Regent can do the following Action on any targets that are within their sight and are physically present. They can only use their power with people with human biology, or close enough up to GM Fiat, and they must be conscious and alive. - Leg Twitch: They are Knocked Down, and cannot get up until next turn. If affected twice, they can only get up by suffering from the Leg Pain status. - Hand Cramp: They drop their weapon, and cannot pick it back up with it for 3-Guts amount of turns. If affected twice, they cannot pick it up until 5-Guts amount of turns. - Vomit Throes: They start to vomit, occupying one of their Actions. If affected with it twice in the same turn, they are only able to take a Move Action.

The first thing is like 'you cannot master a dog :(' or 'this breaker is too weird for you, sorry!' And then rest of it is pretty straightforward: this is what you can do. I wanted to reward his ability to do things by focusing on people, so that's pretty fun too. Like if he focuses on a target, he's way better at hurting them than if he spreads his attention. This would like tie back to his trigger if I had it on hand, but that's just trigger headcanon here. Knocked Down reduces movement to 5', for the record. i think so, at least. I don't have the 3.0 doc open! Sue me! I am not writing more actions because I could go on, but I am limited it to three things. Then again, if I were running this other than in my head, I would tell my player 'yo, if you want to do something that's not written like making someone slit their own throat, just ask. I'll say yes if it makes sense, and I'll say 'no but' and give you a way to do it.'

Interlude 2: 3.0? It's the version of the game I'm basing my rules on. It's the latest rules made by Wildbow. It is accessible through the Weaverdice reddit where I get my stuff. A lot of the resources are fanmade because Wildbow does not give a shit about weaverdice anymore, so you know. Make that what you will.

3. At ten tokens on a victim, Regent can opt to control their victim as a Full Round Action and immediately start puppeting the victim. The victim now starts rolling a Long DC 20 Guts for each turn. When the victim completes the DC, they are freed from being controlled. If the victim isn't being controlled for one turn, they will not take any actions. If the victim has a power, Regent can use their power as long as it is external and doesn't change their biology.

The Long DC 20 Guts is to spice things up: I don't want my player to have permanent control over their gamer. The fact Regent must take one action also limits how many thralls. Again, this is largely for the DM's comfort, and the player's ability to keep tracks of their actions. Technically, this version of Alec can control two people at once. Additionally, for powers, it means that the power is like throwing a fireball or superstrength - and not being able to count up to fifty digit of Pi, and that it doesn't make them unmasterable through being a changer or a breaker.

Interlude 3: Long DC what? Some DCs are higher than 6 and are impossible to reach in one turn. So GMs may be inclined to make them Long DCs, where the characters keeps rolling as a Full Round Action until the action is completed. This could be hacking a computer that is encrypted by Dragon or dismembering a body with a hacksaw or in this case, freeing yourself from being mastered by Regent. You can also use this on small DC like a DC 4 to throw out a fireball for a low level cape. Essentially, it means the DC will not fail as long the cape keeps rolling for it. You can also add a time limit to make it like 'you have three turns to reach DC 20, and if you don't, you will not escape the burning building!'

Finally, let's talk about his Manton effect and his body sensing. It'll be quick. It's like a passive.

4. Regent has the ability to sense bodies within the scene. Regent does not need to see them to sense them. As long as Regent can sense them, he can affect them. Additionally, when he is getting mastered by a power affecting emotions, Regent roll a 1d2. On a 2, he avoids being Mastered.

This is really simple. If you want to give a range on his body sensing and body hijacking power, I would make it 50' to 100'. Up to you! I didn't write one because I was like 'let's keep this power theater of the mind.'

Regent's power without interruption

Regent has the ability to control the bodily functions of people who are physically nearby and conscious. These bodily functions range from twitching legs to causing vomiting. Each can be blocked from their victim as a DC 4 Guts. For each successful mastering, the cape gains a token on the target. When collecting ten tokens through one or several encounter, Regent is capable of using their body.

Regent can do the following Action on any targets that are within their sight and are physically present. They can only use their power with people with human biology, or close enough up to GM Fiat, and they must be conscious and alive.

- Leg Twitch: They are Knocked Down, and cannot get up until next turn. If affected twice, they can only get up by suffering from the Leg Pain status.

- Hand Cramp: They drop their weapon, and cannot pick it back up with it for 3-Guts amount of turns. If affected twice, they cannot pick it up until 5-Guts amount of turns.

- Vomit Throes: They start to vomit, occupying one of their Actions. If affected with it twice in the same turn, they are only able to take a Move Action.

At ten tokens on a victim, Regent can opt to control their victim as a Full Round Action and immediately start puppeting the victim. The victim now starts rolling a Long DC 20 Guts for each turn. When the victim completes the DC, they are freed from being controlled. If the victim isn't being controlled for one turn, they will not take any actions. If the victim has a power, Regent can use their power as long as it is external and doesn't change their biology.

Regent has the ability to sense bodies within the scene. Regent does not need to see them to sense them. As long as Regent can sense them, he can affect them. Additionally, when he is getting mastered by a power affecting emotions, Regent roll a 1d2. On a 2, he avoids being Mastered.

Post-power commentary

This is a power I would like using, not gonna lie. I think if I were in a game, and I got this power, I would go 'yeah this is fun, I like making people vomit!'. And my cape name would be Vomitgore. I'm a princess like that.

Anyways, if you want to use this, feel free. Change it to what you need, and just credit me vaguely, unless you like change everything then it's fine. Honestly, I just do this for fun.

Aisha next xoxo.

[dirtwatchman]

PARTIES: @dirtwatchman and @magmahearts TIME: Early goo, sometime after this thread. WHERE: Worm Row SUMMARY:  Caleb is trying to rescue a cat during the goo disaster and Cass comes along just as he's starting to become trapped. Seeing that she's not in great shape he decides to tag along with her much to Cass' disappointment. They end up coming upon something neither of them expected. WARNINGS: None that I can remember, just sad thoughts.

The volunteer opportunities during this goo disaster were plentiful and Caleb had been making sure to do everything he could for the people of his hometown but nothing felt like enough. Working the shelters was a great help until he was standing around waiting to be told what to do. Going out and getting more supplies was fantastic until those supply pickups ran dry. He just felt like he wasn’t doing enough. Maybe it was dumb to go out on a rescue mission to Worm Row, but it was the right thing to do, right? He couldn’t just sit around while others suffered. People could live without him but there were too many out there that others couldn’t lose.

What was truly dumb though was straying from the rescue group. All it took was one frenzied cry of a cat for him to walk away from everyone doing a job. He’d promised to keep an eye out for a missing one after all. It wasn’t the one he was looking for but there was a calico stuck in one of the allies behind a tattoo parlor, goo blocking both ways out and slowly overtaking the objects down the path as it spread. 

Caleb quickly jumped over the growing puddle and scooped the cat up into his arms, the animal only thrashing for a moment before it realized it was safer in the undead’s arms than on the ground as goo continued to come towards them. “Uh...well…” His eyes scanned the ground realizing it would have been easier to jump back without a terrified cat in his arms. As he tried to think of how to get back to the main street, someone walked by the entrance of the alley and he called out quickly to try and get their attention. “Hey! You think you could help me out real quick? Just need someone to hold the cat.”

Everything ached. Her shoulder where Rhett had stabbed her, her head where his knife had tried and failed to end her life, her arm where he’d twisted it to the point of breaking. Her pride, too, though that was a harder thing to admit. Cass knew she should be just… grateful to be alive, glad to still be breathing, but it was hard. She was angry about what had happened. She was afraid that it might happen again. She was desperate to be useful, somehow. And she was trying, as hard as she could, to hide all of this from Alex, who was already going through enough because of her.

Going to Worm Row to help with evacuation had felt like something she could do. She wasn’t much of a superhero as she was — maybe she’d never been much of a superhero at all — but she could still do something. She remembered her conversation with the woman online about the warehouses, about how the people who were sleeping inside them the way Cass used to before she’d found her cave would be forgotten in the evacuations. She didn’t want that to happen, couldn’t stand the thought of it.

So she’d broken away from the group she was with, circling around abandoned buildings and peering through windows. No one yet, but she thought she’d find someone eventually. She knew which buildings people tended to flock towards, after all. She was passing by the mouth of an alley when a voice called out, causing her to falter. She turned towards it, surprised to see a man holding a cat and surrounded by goo. “Oh, shit,” she said, quickly walking into the alley, careful to avoid the goo. “I’ve got you, yeah! Uh… Hand me the cat.”

Even with his long limbs Caleb wasn’t sure he’d be able to just hand her the creature. It was starting to wiggle in his arms again, still scared of the substance taking over the street and now realizing that something wasn’t quite right with him either. He tried to reach her outstretched hands with the animal as it flailed around but he kept having to move further back to stay away from the good still moving toward him. “As much as I don’t want to do this, I might have to gently toss it to you. Think you can handle it?” She wasn’t looking too great herself and he wondered if she should even be out here much less trying to help him rescue a cat.

But he didn’t have a choice, did he? At least she was on the other side of this, easily able to escape the spreading goo if she needed to. “Alright, on three.” Caleb eyed her wearily, hoping the cat wouldn’t freak out and start clawing at the girl. “One…two…three!” He tossed the cat gently after getting it as close to her as he could, hoping it would get to her safely and he could figure out how to get himself on the other side. 

With the goo getting closer, his eyes went to the ground before he had a chance to see the outcome, feet stepping back once again. It was moving slowly but he didn’t have much more time to waste or else he’d be completely stuck. So he moved back a little more and got a running head start before jumping himself, landing not so gracefully on the other side of it all. Caleb’s shoulder was just inches from another pile of this stuff and he scrambled to his feet before his lack of coordination got him in even more trouble. 

She hesitated at the question. Could she catch the cat if it was tossed to her? Her shoulder hurt just sitting there, and catching anything with any weight to it would likely pull at the injury uncomfortably. But something that moved and squirmed? That would be even harder. She studied the situation for a moment, attempting to find another solution before accepting, begrudgingly, that there really wasn’t one. She could either catch the cat, or… Or nothing. The only other option was to leave the little guy behind, and that wasn’t much of an option at all. So, with determination coloring her features, she nodded. “I can catch it,” she said with more confidence than she felt. She had to.

She steadied herself as he prepared to throw the cat, digging her heels in and holding her arms out. Her jaw was tightly clenched in anticipation for the inevitable pain that would come with the exercise, but she was ready. When he landed on three, she took a step forward with her arms out. The cat landed in them, and Cass bit back a cry of pain. Her whole shoulder felt like it was burning, like she’d been stabbed all over again. Her vision whited out momentarily, but she recovered quickly, holding the squirming cat close to her chest. She must have bitten her tongue in silencing her cry, because there was blood in her mouth. She swallowed it carefully, waiting for the man to join her.

He ran and jumped, and Cass transferred her hold on the cat so that she was using only one arm to hold it, freeing the other to reach out and steady the stranger to prevent him from rolling into the goo. When he was upright and goo free, she let out a shaky sigh and offered him the cat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m uh, I’m good.” Caleb nodded while checking himself to make sure nothing had gotten on him. It would be just his luck that the goo would have splashed onto his arm or something and he’d become a statue. But it wasn’t just him he was worried about either, the zombie looking over his helper as he took the cat back. He’d noticed her wince when she caught the animal, and now he could see a small amount of blood on her lips as his eyes passed over them. “Are you okay? Why are you bleeding?” Should she even be out in this mess? He’d noticed already that she wasn’t looking the best and now his brow was creased with worry seeing her up close.

Even as the cat struggled to get out of his arms. The animal's claws ran over his bare wrist and Caleb had to drop it before the thing could do more damage. A small grunt left his lips but the cat was halfway down the street before he looked back up. At least it was walking away from the goo. “That’s what I get for helping a stray, I guess. Just hope it doesn’t get into any more trouble.” 

His attention went back to her, the concern growing the more he took her in. “Do you need…like, a chair or something? Maybe you should sit down?” The last thing either of them needed was for her to pass out in this. He wouldn’t just leave her of course but Caleb would rather it not come to that point if they could help it. 

She hated how easily he recognized the pain in her expression. Sometimes, Cass wished that the unreadable expressions that came with being made of stone transferred to her glamour, too, that she could be stoic even with the illusion of humanity stretched across her rocky skin. She didn’t want to be the kind of person that other people had to worry about; she wasn’t supposed to be. She was a superhero. She used to think she was a good one. She wasn’t so sure of that anymore. “I just bit my tongue,” she said with a dismissive wave, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. “The little guy was heavier than I thought he’d be. It caught me off guard.”

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the animal; she watched as it clawed its way out of the stranger’s arms, dropping to the ground and taking off. She watched it go, hopeful that it would stay away from the goo. Would the goo have the same effect on cats as it did on people? It was hard to say. “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” she said softly. The cat disappeared behind a nearby building, and she turned back to the man.

She was tired. There was no denying it. Every inch of her ached, exhaustion from even this smallest of physical activities seeping into her very bones. She hated it, hated how weak she felt. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this. This shouldn’t be affecting her still, shouldn’t be such a persistent ache. Not physically, and not mentally, either. It was so stupid. Didn’t her mind know that she was fine? “No,” she said quickly, trying to straighten her back and look more steady. “No, I’m all good.”

There was something about the way she took her time to answer him, as if she were trying to decide whether she should placate him or tell the truth. Caleb could recognize the thought process anywhere seeing as he did it himself way too often. It was that drive to take care of everyone else before taking care of themselves, that need to be helpful, to know that their presence meant something rather than wonder if anything good came of it or not. It was obvious that something wasn’t right but he wasn’t going to push her to talk about it if she didn’t want to. He’d want the same if the situation was reversed. “Okay, only if you’re sure.” Which he knew she would say as such. It’s what he would do. 

But he also didn’t feel right just walking away when clearly something was off with her. She looked too young to be out there on her own anyway, at least while a disaster was going on. “Uh, I lost my volunteer group so it seems I need something to do. Do you know where any volunteers are needed? Maybe we can head there together?” Caleb didn’t care if he was being too obvious, he wasn’t leaving her alone to pass out in this mess.

“I’m sure,” she replied, flashing her biggest grin. Her stomach churned, ached. It was a lie, and it wasn’t. She hadn’t specified what she was sure about. She was sure — sure that she didn’t want to talk about it, sure that she didn’t want to feel the way she felt, sure that she wished she could go back to how she’d been before. She was sure about a lot of things; that was part of the problem.

She hesitated, wondering why he was still here. Did she seem so helpless? The thought unnerved her. Before, it hadn’t bothered her much when people wanted to help her. If anything, it made her feel good — like a person worth helping, like someone people wanted to be okay. But it felt like poison now, like a slap to the face. She was strong, she was. She could do things on her own. When he spoke, asked about a volunteer group, it felt like she was being placated. But… not being alone was still a thing she wanted. So she told herself she was doing it for his sake. So he wouldn’t get stuck again, she she wouldn’t walk by a statue of him later. “I’ve been going around checking empty buildings for people,” she said. “You can help me with that if you want, I guess.” 

Why was he still there? If she was so insistent on telling him that she was okay, if he could tell that she didn’t want any special treatment, Caleb should just walk away, right? He figured that she reminded him of Aria in some way and he didn’t enjoy the idea of leaving anyone in this mess, much less someone who made him think of a person he cared a lot about. If anyone had come across the girl he thought of as family in this predicament and left her then he would have so many unkind words to throw their way. 

Nodding at her suggestion, he looked down Worm Row and back the other way, knowing that it was a good idea regardless of it only coming about so he didn’t leave her alone. Surely there were others that were trapped, not just that poor cat. Pulling his sleeve down further so that she couldn’t see that his arm had healed from the scratches already, Caleb pointed down one side of the street. “Are you going that way? I’d love to join, otherwise I’d be lost.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. He knew that he was a follower, never took charge, couldn’t make a decision unless he absolutely had to so he'd most likely be standing in the middle of the street doing nothing if she left without him. In some ways she was the one helping him.

“How many people have you seen so far? I’ve only seen the cat myself…more statues than anything.” Which was a sad thing to realize. Those poor people were trapped if they were still alive. He’d hoped that he’d see more rescues than Caleb had. “I’m hoping that most of the people needing rescues are just gone now instead of trapped. It’s been a while so it’s possible, right?”

Was she relieved that he wanted to help her, or disappointed? Even Cass didn’t know for sure. She hated being alone, but she hated the way he was looking at her, too. Concern was a funny thing. She always yearned for it right up until the moment she got it, always wanted it only until she had it. Because now, in moments like this one, she felt so weak. Nothing like the hero she so wanted to be, nothing like what she was supposed to be. She was weak and she was stupid and she hated it, but she didn’t know if she hated it more than she hated being alone. She didn’t know if she hated anything more than that. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a nod, looking off in the direction he’d indicated. She told herself that she was helping him by letting him tag along, let herself pretend that she was keeping him out of the goo. “I haven’t seen a lot of people, either, but… There are some abandoned buildings down that way. People with nowhere else to go will sleep there sometimes when the weather is bad.” She didn’t mention how she knew that, didn’t add that she’d slept there herself on a pretty regular basis before Kuma found her way back when she’d first come to Wicked’s Rest. He didn’t need to know that; he just needed to know what she planned on doing now.

Her eyes darted to a nearby statue, a hint of grief shooting through her chest. She hoped the people beneath the stone were okay, even if it seemed impossible. “I’m sure most of the people who were in houses are,” she replied. “But… some people fall through the cracks in situations like this. Some people don’t have anyone looking out for them.”

“That makes a lot of sense actually.” He should have thought about that. He’d spent a lot of nights in random cemeteries and different places when he was younger and had come across a few of those people asking if he needed a place to stay. Caleb had always appreciated the offer. Ones with no place to go were always the kindest. He briefly wondered why her mind had gone there but didn’t want to bring it up in case it brought up something painful. It was likely that she just had a kind heart herself and was able to think about these things. 

After a pause, her next words caught his ear and it was harder to pretend that her knowledge of the displaced was nothing more than her ability to think about the less fortunate. It sounded so much more personal. “We can definitely check those places out and get them to the shelter’s buses if we need to….thanks for thinking of them.” Because he sure hadn’t and now he felt guilt building up in his gut. Following her eye line to the statue nearest them, he wondered how many of these people didn’t have any place to go when they got caught up with the goo. She was right, most rescues would only think about the people who already had places they could hide away in first.

Caleb started to walk towards the buildings she had indicated, careful to keep an eye on the goo spots but also letting his gaze go back to her every now and then. He wasn’t being subtle with the worry that was coursing through him but at this point he didn’t care. Her pride could take a hit but if she collapsed in this he wasn’t sure she could come back from the goo. “Do you…know someone who might be down here?”

There were a lot of people who tended to be ‘forgotten’ by the general public. Even now, Cass often felt like she was one of them. She had places she could go, places where she’d be welcome to stay for as long as she needed — Alex’s cabin, Metzli’s house, Ariadne’s apartment — but there was a stark difference between your friends being there for you and strangers caring whether or not you were okay. Even caring wasn’t quite what she’d needed in her worst moments — she’d only wanted acknowledgement back then. For someone to see her, to recognize that she needed help. People had a bad habit of looking away when something was ugly, and there were few things uglier than this.

But there were good people out there, too. There were guys who’d brave the goo just to save a cat from succumbing to it, who wouldn’t hesitate to join her on her quest to save the people the rest of the world forgot about. “Yeah,” Cass replied, and she took the thanks even if she hated herself for it a little. She might need it if he asked too many questions, she told herself. Odds were, he’d have plenty of questions she didn’t want to answer if he found out about her cave. It was easier to have an easy out.

She trailed behind him as she walked, watching the goo just as carefully as he was. It was clear that he was concerned. It made her feel warm, like a fire flickering within her chest. It was rare for people to worry about Cass, but it had become more common since moving to Wicked’s Rest. She liked it. At his question, she shrugged a shoulder. “There are a lot of people in Worm Row who don’t have a lot of places to go. We just need to find them.” She rounded the corner, nodding to a warehouse. “There. People sleep in there a lot.” It didn’t look too surrounded by the goo.

As soon as she pointed out the right building he was eyeing her again. How did she know that? There was something deep down telling him that this knowledge came from personal experience more than from her being a volunteer somewhere but he also knew it wasn’t right to assume things. If she wanted him to know what this was about she would have said by now. It wasn’t like Caleb blamed her at all, he wouldn’t want to tell a complete stranger about his past either, but if this was her present truth it didn’t…sit right with him. If she needed a place to go he knew of plenty of people who would be happy to take her in. Hell, he would have himself if he wasn’t worried about her finding his…supply. 

How awful would that look? He takes in a displaced young woman only for her to find freezers full of brains in his basement. It would scare her to death and he would definitely end up in jail this time around.

So he let it go. As much as he didn’t want to, he let go of the nagging feeling telling him to press this issue further. Instead he nodded at her and made his way towards the building to check it out and boy was he glad she had pointed this place out. 

There were almost a dozen people lingering inside not knowing where to go or what they could do with the goo outside. As soon as he saw them all two things happened; one, he had confirmation that she knew more than she was saying about the displaced in Wicked’s Rest, and two, he knew he had to get one of the volunteer buses closer to this location to get them all to safety without a goo incident. “I think I need to go find a bus and bring it here instead of trying to get them all to another location. Are you okay to stay here with them?”

He didn’t ask any questions, and Cass was grateful for it. Still, she held on to that thank you. She shouldn’t have, she knew. It was a bad thing, a selfish one. So many people had been hurt by her tendency to make binds she had no business making. From Kuma’s death to Metzli’s anger, there was a string of consequences that existed between binds and the people they tied themselves around and still, even knowing that, Cass had trouble letting them go. So she kept this one, tucked away safe and waiting for a day when she might need to use it, even if she tried to convince herself that that day would never come.

Inside the warehouse, it was easy to focus on other things. There were people who needed help, people who were afraid and lost and alone. Some of them, she recognized. She thought they recognized her, too, around their fear, but most knew better than to say so. Cass carefully ushered them all to one side of the warehouse, as far away from the goo as they could get. 

She saw the same problem Caleb did. Leading a group of people this size to safety without losing any of them would be a difficult task, and they couldn’t risk losing anyone. She shot him a worried glance, but he already had a solution in mind. A little relieved, she nodded. “Go,” she agreed. “I can keep them safe until you get back.”

As soon as she gave confirmation, he was off. There was no hesitating here. That stuff was spreading fast and if it found its way to the building they would all be trapped until they could get the goo off. Finding the bus they needed hadn’t been the hard part. The hard part came with navigating it through the street so that the goo didn’t take it over. Luckily, the thing was empty save for Caleb and the driver since she had just come from dropping off a load of others in Deersprings and they only had themselves to worry about. He watched as she carefully drove through the streets, taking as many detours as she could find once they realized one was too blocked off by the black sludge, and eventually they pulled up to where they needed to be thanks to the expertise of the woman. 

The building was still safe but it wouldn’t be for long. There was goo coming their way, they would have to work quickly to get them all out.

Rushing in, he found the girl that had helped him with the cat, realizing too late that he didn’t even know her name, but they were a little busy. “So, good news is I have a bus sitting outside, bad news is we need to hurry because this building isn’t going to be safe for much longer.” Caleb clapped his hands together to get all of their attention, something he usually hated but didn’t have enough time to care. “Everybody! There’s a bus outside that can take you safety but we need to hurry or we’re going to get trapped in here.”

They weren’t moving. All they did was stare at Caleb like he was trying to trick them, suspicion in some of their eyes. Confusion took over before he realized that to them he was an outsider. Why would they trust him? Looking down at the other girl, he raised an eyebrow. “Think they might listen to you more than me?”

There were questions, while they waited. Cass did her best to answer them as they came, but it was difficult. No, she didn’t know what was going on. Yes, it was a dangerous situation. No, they couldn’t stay here. Yes, she understood that it was just as dangerous to be out in the city with no roof over your head at night in Wicked’s Rest. Some of the people knew her, trusted her. To others, she was a stranger. And it was hard, trying to convince any of them that she knew what she was talking about. She was a kid, in their eyes. A kid who, up until a few months ago, had been in the same boat they were in now. And these people were distrustful by default, unwilling to accept help when they didn’t know what would be asked of them in return. Cass understood it, but it certainly made things more complicated.

It was a relief, still, when the man returned with the bus. Cass felt her shoulders slump at the sight of him, felt the feeling rush in not unlike the goo they were trying to avoid now. “That’s good,” she breathed, nodding her head. “Seriously, that’s — I’m glad you found it. I don’t know what we would have done without it.” The people in this building wouldn’t have left, and Cass wouldn’t have abandoned them. It would have been a tragedy unreported by news outlets that didn’t tend to care about tragedies when the victims’ faces looked like the ones in this building.

But even with an easy route out, the distrust remained. The people looked to the man with dubious expressions, muttering to one another, and Cass’s heart sank in her chest. She looked to the man, then back to the crowd. She knew, of course. She knew what would be more effective, even if it meant admitting to things she’d rather keep private. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward.

“Look, I know how you feel. They evacuated the neighborhood, and they forgot about you. And — And there’s something really scary going on, and you don’t understand it, and you’re afraid. You have nowhere else to go, and I get that. I’ve been where you are. But if you stay here, you’re going to get hurt. You might get worse than hurt. I know it’s scary, I know. But if you let us get you somewhere safe, I won’t forget about you. I’ll make sure you have everything you need. Food, water, blankets. I’ll make sure you have a place to stay, somewhere safe. You just have to get on the bus.”

If Caleb weren’t living in Wicked’s Rest, if he hadn’t known about the things that could exist these days, this moment would have seemed so surreal to him. Having to get a bus to lead a bunch of people away from goo that was taking over anything it touched, not being able to convince a dozen people to get on said bus despite that major detail, and then a girl who looked like she could have been a child giving an inspiring little speech to spur them all forward could have been a scene straight from The Twilight Zone. Anyone else would have had a hard time thinking they were living their real life and not home snug in their bed while they ran through the dream in their head. 

But it was real. This was their daily truth. And sometimes…rarely, he felt a sense of pride just to be witness to it all. 

His look of worry started to morph into one of awe as each word left her lips. She couldn’t have lived much life yet and still she was able to be so open and personal in front of a bunch of strangers just to make sure they made it to safety. He could have chimed in, tried to relate like her, but it wasn’t needed. They were looking at each other for a beat before they decided to follow the girl’s instructions to get on the bus. 

Caleb again felt that pride start to swell. Trust was so hard. He knew that little fact very well but every single one of them decided to swallow that fear in their gut and trust in the only option they had left. The zombie just kept nodding at people as they passed him, trying to give a reassuring smile to let them know that he too would be there if they needed him, but none of it would have been possible without her bravery. When the last person climbed the steps his smile turned on her, genuine words slipping past.

“See? I’m the one who needed you after all.”

[meadowlarksabove]

Tales from Arizona 3/??

A decanus learns about the death of his son and it puts everything into perspective. (Notes: Hortensius is Gabban's decanus previously featured in the first TfA story. For reasons implied in this story, Hortensius renounced his birth name to better fit into the Legion, which is why it's never used or mentioned here. His son's birth name is used because 'Florus' wasn't chosen by his son, but a romanization forced upon them.)

(PLEASE LOOK AT TRIGGER WARNINGS IN THE TAGS!!)

______________________________________________________

…It is with great pain that I have learned of the death of your son. Of all the hardships in building our great empire, chiefest is the loss of great men such as your son. There is no consolation one can offer a father when he has lost their true and rightful heir. Let yourself, at least, be relieved in knowing that every man who gives their life for the Legion lives forever in honor. Do well by his memory, tend to your duties, and do as is right of a man in rebuilding your family- 

Decanus Hortensius raised a hand to the courier before they could recite the rest of the message. Whatever had flashed before the eyes of the warrior, whether sharp or gruesome, had been enough to forewarn the messenger of their great emotion. Without another word, they placed the letter onto the war table and hastily left the tent. Everything thereafter was silent, none of the decanii scheduled to meet with Hortensius could be admitted into his tent without incurring the clearest offense. The soldiers were also forbidden from passing the flap without the expressed approval of their master. In only a matter of hours the entirety of the camp knew something terrible had happened, as a dark and oppressive cloud seemed to shadow their spirits on an otherwise sunny day. Many wondered and looked over their shoulders, thinking rightly that death had given its news. They shivered to think what would become of them, as loss rarely tempered but instead inflamed a man’s character. 

Hours passed and none had seen their decanus save for his closest in command who imparted orders in his absence. While Hortensius had never inspired tenderness in any of his men, they respected his leadership and wisdom, and greatly depended on his fortitude. To see him detained by whatever had stricken him was enough cause for worry. On the other hand, it meant their plans of quitting Phoenix were temporarily put on hold. Though they were eager for their next battle, they had gotten little to no rest in the past month of their campaign and were grateful for even a day of no traveling. Still, their rest had come at an unspeakable cost, and none of them felt any real pleasure for it. They looked at his tent wearily and thought he would burst through the camp hot with rage, ready to ease his pain by spreading misery. Yet nothing came through the flap but a sad and unfortunate quiet. 

Quiet was exactly all the decanus could bear. For the rest of that day he had sat at his table and invariably taken the letter in his hands, only to let go of it when it had lingered too long between his fingers. The message, delicately scrawled across the paper, was useless to a man who’d never learned how to read or write. Yet he understood the truth of its account and of the tragedy he was now forced to face head on. His son, Florus- No, let them be named in his heart by their true name! He was in his right, now more than ever, to remember them by the name he and his wife had given them at birth. Aster, his one and only son, was dead. Aster, who had only been nineteen years old, was dead. 

The thought of his son’s age sent him into another fit. Though no tears welled up in his tired eyes, he felt his lungs swell to the point of making it impossible for him to breathe. He gasped for air, just as his body turned stiff and cold. He was like a dying man himself, lamenting the loss of someone just at the cusp of manhood. But would he have suffered less if his son had died any younger, or older? Would it have made any sense to cry less at the loss of an infant or a middle aged man? Yet his having died at nineteen felt at the moment like the greatest injustice of all, a sentence only thought up in nightmares. They had survived the coming of the Legion into their territory, survived the aftermath of their shameful surrender, survived battles forced upon them by their captors, only to die before he’d been given the honor of a title. However, would they really have wanted such an empty gesture?

Aster, how they must have hated fighting for the bull. Ever since Caesar had drawn them all into his ranks, they had always looked wretched and full of rage. Though that same anger had inadvertently served them at war, in peace it would have only festered and grown into an even greater poison. Hortensius had seen the disdain in his son’s eyes when all of their tribesmen relinquished their arms, as if to say they would never be so easily tamed or made a dog of. His son, he knew, had been a struggle for other decanii, and an even bigger terror towards their peers. No crack of the whip or glaring branding iron could have broken his will. He admonished his son’s behavior in the face of his superiors, but in his heart he praised them with all the spirit a father could give. Though he had long stopped believing in the fall of the Legion, he believed his Aster was capable of attaining real freedom. 

Death at the height of war wasn’t freedom, however. He couldn’t pretend to think his son’s spirit were any less enraged than they were in life, or think them satisfied with having given their life for a cause so against their own. Survival had been their way of fighting against the odds, the fact they’d lived after every fight, every punishment, had been a foil to the Legion’s wishes. But death had put a stop to that. Death had freed his son’s decanus of a “bad seed”, one less “wildling” to worry about when there were many like Cicero or Vulpes to contend with. Hortensius struggled to keep thinking in this way. If Aster’s dying had done even a single person of the Legion a modicum of good, then he’d have to count his son’s death a shameful one. Another failure. 

What had been the point in their surrender anyway? Decanus Hortensius moved to his bed as if lost in a haze, and looked up at the red burlap ceiling of his tent. He thought back to their last night as a free tribe, and on the words of their elders. There was rebellion in survival, if they held on long enough they would someday outlive the red flames of the Legion. Though the bulls were strong, stronger still was the good in the rest of the world. Hortensius had understood the wisdom in their message then, but years spent in the service of beasts had weakened his resolve to the point of finding the good as well as the evil in it. To win they would have to be patient, and with that resolve they had survived and shown themselves stronger than any of the weapons turned against them. But how deep were the scars, and how lasting! The youths of his people were reduced to pawns, and the best of his generation were made into war criminals like himself. Pillagers, raiders, scourges of the earth. People he’d known for years were newly made strangers under the influence of starvation, thirst and oppression. So many had forgotten their old names in favor of appeasing the census dogs that patrolled the streets and kept tabs on all the annexed tribes. It was harder now, more than ever, to remember why they had actually chosen to live.

Aster, you see me now from your place in the Far Away. Can’t you tell me what you know? 

The tears finally came as he tried to think of his Aster standing beside the spirits of his father and grandfather. They would have to guide his son in whatever he had failed. Even in the Far Away they would have to be raised, and he was glad they had found themselves once more in the company of their heroes. Though strangely enough, the image of that blessed meeting remained foggy in his mind, as if drowned into obscurity by the sheer force of his weeping. His body seemed to refuse it like a bad herb. Instead, his thoughts shot in the opposite direction, and where his son had stood were now the children fallen into rank in his encampment. 

Tribeless, parentless, with no hope of a better tomorrow, these were the children the red armies had spat out from the corpses of worthier people. They were miserable creatures with newly given names they could hardly pronounce for themselves. He’d never seen children in the service of war before joining the Legion, and could scarcely provide the heartlessness it took to train them. Hortensius avoided looking at them, in fact, and delegated that charge as often as he could to the rest of his command. But even his ignorance of their presence couldn’t save him from the painful sight of their bodies, or the knowledge that he had played a role in their demise. For every cog in the machine, no matter how small, was implicated in the disposal of these children. 

Then as he imagined them in Aster’s place, he feared they would tell his son of his negligence and of his shirking responsibility. It was to Decanus Hortensius they were assigned and not his second in command. But how could a man be a father and a guide to children he hadn’t sired? They were strange, frightening even, and fragile in ways that depressed his heart. None of them were ready to face violence on the battlefield, and those who’d survived up to this point had done it through chance alone. Despite what the Legion would have everyone believe, weapons were made out of metal, not brittled flesh.

Though was that enough to justify abandoning his post? They, like his son, had been someone’s heir once. 

In a way, Hortensius had denied these children of fatherly guidance, and as sick recompense he was denied a son. No longer would he be a real father to anyone, he would refuse to produce an heir and pretend infertility if questioned. Make another son? (For them to die? For them to pointlessly toil like these children?) It was out of the realm of possibility, he’d had his chance and with it he paid for his own crimes. He’d taken his position as decanus and his responsibilities to the soldiers entirely for granted. To his son, he’d shown himself a coward on the day of their surrender, and to these children he’d revealed himself an incompetent leader. This had been his comeuppance for forgetting the wisdom of his elders and faltering where he should have ardently rebelled. 

Everything was suddenly so clear. Hortensius began to understand why he saw these children in the place of his son. He had marked these boys as strangers out of the bounds of his past tribe. But where was his tribe now? A powerless people, scattered throughout the entire state of Arizona, their name an illicit whisper in the dark. How could he pretend to hold himself in higher regard than the orphans left behind in the bull’s passing? Wasn’t he also tribeless, parentless, with no hope of a better tomorrow? He’d blinded himself to the fact that all children were everyone’s charge, that no baby had cried any different to his own. Why hadn’t he seen this before? He wept into the coarse fabric of his cot and clenched his fists until they drew blood. The elders had told them to survive, but not alone. 

Aster shouldn’t have had to die for him to learn this lesson. It shouldn’t have come this far, yet he would work the rest of his life if it meant making amends for his cruelty. If his son watched him from the Far Away, then he wouldn’t give them any more cause for shame or disappointment. To the boys in his encampment, he owed a lifetime of service. They should survive long enough to see what his son couldn’t. 

The fall of the Legion couldn’t be enjoyed from the seat of death, only by living could they feel the retribution from a life rotted with grief. They will survive. From the strongest to the weakest, they will all survive. He swore by the blood under his nails and the persistence of his beating heart, that he would see every one of them alive and strong enough to fight. Even strong enough to turn against the hands that trained them.

[altocat]

So much Aeriseph content going around rn! Do u have any hcs for that pairing? (maybe if seph didn’t completely hate and want to destroy her (childhood lab friends/lovers perhaps- i always think Seph would have viewed her as a goddess in that kinda au) I need to quench the need for cute and angsty aeriseph writings!!

Aeriseph is a great pairing hhhh I love them they're flawless. I typically pair Sephiroth only with other men, but these two are honestly everything. So have some shipping headcanons!

-Sephiroth and Aerith, much like in lots of my other stories and fics, knew each other briefly during their time in the lab. Sephiroth always knew he was destined to be Aerith's "mate", but was never comfortable with the idea of being forced to breed her. He can never bear to tell her just what Hojo has planned for them, nor can he bear the thought of ever hurting her. She (and Ifalna) are the first people apart from Professor Gast whom he genuinely loves. He would fall apart at ever causing her pain. Not her. Anyone but her.

-Luckily for both of them, Aerith is spared the pain that he goes through. He strikes a bargain with Hojo--his full compliance and unquestioning loyalty to Shinra, in exchange for Aerith's preservation, safety and happiness. A less stifling environment for her and Ifalna. Some fresh air. No experiments. No dissections. Aerith remains untouched. And, in turn, he will do whatever Shinra wants without question, whether it means killing or spreading whatever propaganda they see fit. And Hojo, still well intending to breed the two "ancients" in the far future, agrees to these terms. For now, at least. He sees no reason for there to be needless conflict, especially after Sephiroth promises that he will set himself to being the ruin of Shinra otherwise. Thus, Sephiroth goes off to war and leaves Aerith behind. Aerith and Ifalna are granted safe refuge at an actual living space in the upper plate. They are frequently monitored so that they don't escape, but Aerith does not have to undergo the same level of trauma as her friend.

-Sephiroth sees a lot of pain during the war. But he keeps his promise, killing and torturing and slaying all who oppose the company. His sins are vast and great, and all at a very young age. He no longer remembers what it's like to feel innocent or vulnerable. Just a mindless killing machine. A monster.

-By the time he finally returns, war-hardened and world famous, Hojo begins prompting him to pay a certain someone a visit. "I've upheld my end, boy. It's high time you set yourself to thinking about the future." Sephiroth has no intention of falling through with that. BUT...he does go to see her. He fully expects her to be horrified with what he's become. She's heard all the stories. And despite Shinra's plans for them, he knew it would never work. It isn't like that. Certainly not. They were just friends. He was different then. And she--

-When their eyes meet for the first time in what seems like a decade, Sephiroth is lost completely. Because he finds that, stories or no stories, rumors or no rumors, between murder and suffering and Hojo's needless perverted desires, there was no stopping what had always been there, reflected in her eyes every time she looked at him.

Love. And awe. And understanding.

-The affair afterwards is desperate and clingy and staggering. Both are mutually protective of each other. Aerith works to undo all the years of damage that the Wutai War inflicted on Sephiroth, smoothing down his hate and anger, soothing him during his traumatic episodes. She always knew what he did for her and her mother. As far as she's concerned, she doesn't see a monster. Just that same desperate boy in the lab pajamas, working with what he can, yearning for safety, for peace.

-Eventually, Sephiroth breaks free from Shinra and escapes Midgar with Aerith and Ifalna in tow. He doesn't care if they're hunted for it, or if he even broke his promise to Hojo. He has her. And that's all he could ever want. He will kill anyone who tries to tear them apart. It's a very physical, very passionate relationship. Sephiroth is all but CRAZED over her. He will go foaming apeshit bonkers if anyone so much as looks at her funny.

She is HIS. No one else's. No one can touch her. No one can hurt her. His beautiful. His divine. His...goddess.

[enbysorcerer]

Day 30: Religion and Death

Is your character religious? What are their views, and why or why not? Not really. He believes in the spirits and prays to his ancestors, but that’s about as far as his religiousness goes.

How would they like to die? Peacefully in their sleep. If that’s not possible, he’d at least like it to be quick and painless.

Choose a person, historical or fictional, and write about a meeting between them and your character. We’re going with another one of my OCs, Aurelia since she’s probably the one of my OCs that’s been the most affected by war. For the sake of this, we’ll assume they’re both in the Avatarverse.

Aurelia lost both her husband and her child to the war. After giving her baby up for adoption because she didn’t feel mentally able to care for a child in her grief, she took to traveling around the Earth Kingdom, unsure she’d ever see her child again.

Zolzaya runs into her at an inn near the Si Wong Desert. She immediately clocks him as Fire Nation, though she probably assumes he’s from the colonies.

Realizing they’re both heading into the Desert, and realizing he’s woefully unprepared, Aurelia decided they should travel together for a little while. Just until they get to their respective destinations.

Along the way, the two start to bond and she tells him about the effect the war has had on her personally once she learns he’s actually from the Fire Nation Capital and a deserter. She tells him about the loss of her husband and the deep depression she suffered. She even tells him about the baby she gave up because she felt mentally unable to care for anyone, including herself.

Zolzaya cries during her story, knowing this was the kind of damage their grandfather was advocating for. This was the kind of raw emotional pain that other people in the Fire Nation didn’t understand they were causing. 

Aurelia is less than pleased when she realizes he’s crying because of her story, but then she realizes he’s genuinely upset by the hurt his Nation is causing people, making her a little more sympathetic.

“Don’t cry for me. My story is all too common these days. Too many people have become widows due to what your people are doing.”

“I know. Yours isn’t the first tragic tale I’ve heard, and it probably won’t be the last, and I hate them all. I hate what Lord Azulon is doing to people.”

She’s still skeptical of his intention, but then Zolzaya starts telling her some of the stories he’s heard from other people, and she realizes he’s serious. He actually is someone who wants to help.

He tells her about the way the Fire Nation feeds children propaganda about the war to make them seem like it’s entirely justifiable. The way the war is supposed to be a good thing to make the people of the other nations realize how great Fire Nation culture is and to spread it across the world.

“That’s called colonialism and it’s not a good thing,” Aurelia tells him.

“Yeah, I learned that word back in Ganshen. It’s exactly what they want to do, and I’m as opposed to it as anyone. Maybe I don’t fully understand it the way you do, but that doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

Aurelia realizes he genuinely means everything he says and just smiles at him. Sure, he’s only one person and he won’t be able to change anything by himself, but the knowledge that there are at least some Fire Nation folks who don’t agree with what the Fire Nation is doing is a comfort.

She can’t be an airbender no matter how much I want her to be, so she’s a weapons person instead and offers to teach him something new as they prepare to go their separate ways.

[vampxbby]

I can’t take it anymore

I feel like everyone is watching me slowly lose my mind. I feel like they are watching a rotting corpse try and put on a smile or even move. I don’t feel anything I do is right and I felt like I’ve been pushed to fly without a parachute. I want to hit the ground and just disintegrate into something else. Plants? Trees? Flowers? Something something other than me. I’ve always wanted plastic surgery and to be someone else, someone that both my mother and father would love. Someone where her brothers would call her. Someone who deserved to have the wheel taken from them sometimes. I’m so jealous of people who have families, who love them, who care for them, who want to see them succeed. I just have a mom who wished she never had me and a dad whose a workaholic. What’s the point of doing the things I want to do if I’ll be poor anyway and have a mom telling me I’m no good at it anyway? What’s the point of breaking my back over things anymore to just be the one to rescue myself anyway? What’s the point of asking for help when I’m just told about how I’m feeding an addiction? I wished my existence was just worth something more than to break my back over a job, have kids and die. I would give anything to not feel what I feel everyday, I would rip my skin off, pray to a foreign god or even lie to myself if I knew I could be free from this turmoil. I have tried being happy for so long now and maybe I was just doomed from the start. To always be left to the side and forgotten about. Leaving university for a boy who needed to be constantly pushed to do something was stupid. But I loved him and believed in him and maybe I believed in something I couldn’t see. I want to eat sushi one last time with though, I want to see him smile or crack a stupid joke. Oh how much better our lives would have been had we been loved by the people who made us and spoken to gently and softly. Could we have been more?

I have attempted many times but never completed but I think for once I am not afraid. I only worry of the pain and suffering I may face but I’m not scared for once. I had plans on Monday to attend a party but I think I’ll be a homebody again and miss it. She was so sweet too.

So for now, I can dream of the music I would have made, the books I would have written, the games I would have played or made, and I’ll live in that world.

I know there is nothing afterwards just atoms evolved into comso and eventually a vastness of emptiness and stars. I hope I become that comet. I never got see it but hopefully I will pass by earth once in a millennium and orbit briefly before going on its journey once more. I know there is no god, for now, but for once I beg of him to rid of this misery. No one deserves this misery, not he or I. And I’m not strong enough to withstand this misery with no one to rescue me at least once in awhile. I don’t ask very much but I would ask to be cremated. Grow me into a great pot of flowers, turn me into jewelry, spread me across a garden and watch me bring life. I hope I pass on the life that I never got into a hydrangea, a harvest of tomatoes, or in a flower field far away in the mountains of Washington. I hope I make people laugh and smile when I see them. I hope I remind them to be kind and kind to themselves. I hope most of all that the people who feel they deserve redemption from me know they have gotten it. Because I am no longer angry and hateful, but alone and sad. I was writing suicide letters in middle school, I can imagine I’m a novelist at this kind of angst. Wonder if I will write a book about suicide in my next lifetime. I hope I made you laugh, smile, and even cry. But please don’t forget me. Make sure you always find me in small trinkets, flowers on the side of the road and scenic views. I may be a bank teller with bipolar, but I’m also an astronomer, writer, musician, weightlifter and hopefully a good friend. I don’t mean to cause you any sadness or frustration with my debts and I’m sorry I’ve left them to you, but take care of yourself and remember to take your medicine. I don’t have very many pictures or videos of me, but I do have my words and I hope they ease you. Goodnight everyone, I love you.

[reignfms]

tensions at the ball ran high the entire night , not a single in attendance a stranger to the atmosphere. all , save our dear king aedar. the dragon king was full of smiles all night , either blissfully unaware of how people really felt or too proud of himself to care. 

throughout the entire night people flock to the king , whether it be in fear and hopes to make nice and stay on his good side , or a true ignorance to the world and thinking him to be a great king. never once is the king alone , entertaining company at every turn of the hour. the guards remain on high alert , fears of the previous ball not leaving anyone’s minds.

and so the night goes on , dances , wine , and some merriment to be had by those who indulge. some even manage to leave for their own devices before the night truly ends. as the clock tolls , many slowly begin to relax and truly believe this night will not end like the last. perhaps brighter days are ahead indeed.

but then the shatter of a glass cuts through the chatter and music , a loud scream silencing any who might have missed it. the king’s guard is quick to descend upon the throne their ruler sits and those left in the ballroom shuffle to get a glimpse of what might have happened. could someone have attempted to harm the king ? who could be so brazen ?

but as the king is ushered out the guards thin , slowly glimpses of a body laying at the foot of the throne become more clear. it is not the king that has fallen but the ruling lord ozan tyrell , a broken glass of wine beside him. and then like popcorn gasps sound throughout the room , several others collapsing and calls for help ringing out. the guards begin to clear the ballroom and organize the fallen to the infirmary , not responding to anything asked of them by those about.

only one question is answered that night , no targaryen celebration can end peacefully.

alrighty so ! tl;dr: the ruling lord tyrell and several others were poisoned, and come morning word will go out that he and some of the others did not survive. ( this will now make lale tyrell the ruling lady of highgarden / the reach )

while the source isn’t entirely clear, many will come to think that a batch of the dornish red wine was poisoned.

news is slow to spread, but eventually it will be known that the king is also suffering from the poison but maesters believe he will make a full recovery like the others who did not perish the same night. he remains in his chambers for days with rhaegar assuming the duties as king.

this officially marks the end of the event, all new threads should focus on the aftermath of this event + plot drop and no new event threads should be started. ( but you are free to continue your threads from the ball as you see fit ! )

if you would like your characters, npcs you control, or open positions in houses you are part of ( with permission of the others in the house ) to die or have fallen ill, please message the main !

how sick is utp, it can range from fine the next morning to a few days to recover. the symptoms will be like a bad stomach virus combined with headaches + low blood pressure causing fatigue / passing out. many sick may just spend hours to days sleeping and not remember much of the ball at all.

deceased ;; ruling lord ozan tyrell, lord tywin westerling, prince consort kovarro martell ( husband to nyadak ), rulling lord lorence karstark

fallen ill / will recover ;; aedar targaryen, sarisa baratheon, ferah tyrell, denyse redwyne, mazhar baratheon, reila targaryen nee manderly, sharra arryn, alicent arryn nee royce, adaline beesbury, visenya targaryen, elaena targaryen, aiyla frey, nymeria martell, lysarra stark, serena karstark nee serett, osric arryn

aftermath ;; questions of who did this circulate the keep, the order to not leave is still in place and has now extended to not leaving the red keep, characters are no longer able to visit parts of king’s landing as they desire save visits to the sept. ( there will be a pt. 2 to this, but it will not come out for at least a week )

[gryphona]

Here's a little vent text about the Gaza conflict. Or should I say genocide?

I'm sure everyone here knows about what's happening in Gaza. And I'm sure many other people are aware that it's part of a conflict that's been going in since the 1910s and no one's done anything to stop it. I'm not taking sides on this one, but I will tell you some history about this conflict and the wider Arab-Israeli conflict that I didn't know about until something like 3 months ago. And I have my suspicions as to why I was never told about this. Why? Because Israel was formed mainly by MY birth and home country - Great Britain. How? Well, it all started during WWI, when the British Empire was still active and dominant. In 1917, the British decided to create a Jewish "national home" in Palestine, and got the means to do so one year later, when Arabs began to revolt against Ottoman rule. The Allies (Britain, France, and Italy) defeated the Ottomans, Germans, and Austro-Hungarians during the Sinai and Palestine campaign in 1918. Although the British had promised Arab independence if they fought with them, they did not keep their word and the area was split between the Allies. The British area was called Mandatory Palestine and was part of what would later become modern-day Israel. Jews were brought in and the Palestinians and other Arab groups were understandably angry about having their land stolen and so started rioting. Many more Jews were brought in during WWII due to the Holocaust, which only angered the Arabs even further. Eventually in 1947, the ongoing violence between the Jews and the Arabs started to weigh down on the British who were economically fractured by WWII and so in 1948, Israel became an independent state. The day independence was declared was the same day the Arab-Israeli war of 1948 started, proving instantly that violence was still prominent. And even to this day, the violence continues....

So in short, the British helped the Arabs then betrayed them by stealing their land. Although there were supposedly good intentions behind bringing the Jews in, it was still nevertheless an invasion. And instead of trying to fix their error, the British left everyone, Jews and Arabs alike, for dead....

Somehow I get the feeling that since it was the British Empire who originally ruled over the Jews in Israel, there's a fairly good chance that Imperialistic ideals were put in the heads of the Jews. Ideas about inferior and superior races. Basically, the disease that is hunger for land and power spread from the British to the Israelis and stayed with the Israelis when the British left. Thus, Israel became a country of genocidal conquerors just like how Great Britain was before....

What I'm basically trying to say is, maybe if the British didn't betray the Arabs during WWI, the Arab-Israeli conflict would never have started, and Palestine wouldn't be suffering constant human rights abuses!

I hate my country so much sometimes. I wish I didn't come from a place that committed so many crimes against humanity, caused so many conflicts, and didn't even try to fix its mistakes instead choosing to brush them off. If someone came up to me and started insulting me for being white, I wouldn't even try to argue back. I know that I am not my ancestors or my country's corrupt leaders, but I still feel guilty and ashamed.

Anyone who wants to insult me and my country in the comments after reading this is welcome.

[jeanfrancoisgeschwind]

Jeff Geschwind  Helpful Advice For Anyone Suffering From Cancer

Jeff Geschwind Expert tips provider. Few words strike more fear into people than the word cancer. The fear of what might happen can in itself be very damaging to an individuals's physical and mental health. So, it is crucial to arm yourself with information and advice that help you take positive action. This article contains some useful facts that can help you to do that.

Dealing with a devastating disease like cancer can cause many fears about life and death. A good way to help yourself overcome these feelings is to become more spiritual! Studies show that people who engage in regular worship and prayer fare much better and live longer than those who don't.

It's important to take detection and the possibility of early treatment, seriously, when thinking about cancer. Learn how to self-examine yourself for cancers of the skin, colon, prostate, cervix and breast. Be sure to perform checks regularly so that you can start fighting early and give yourself the best chance possible.

Following a cancer diagnosis, communication is key. Talk with your friends and family members, your doctor and other members of the community. You will not feel as alone if you can express to others how you feel and what you are going through. This will lead to an incredible support system for you.

Insurance is important for every cancer patient to have. Insurance can cover the cost of medical bills, which can become very expensive due to doctor visits and treatments. Seek out many different insurance options, either through your employer, through your state or through local groups that may help those with cancer.

Sit down and go over your goals and priorities. A cancer diagnosis provides a good reason to re-evaluate and reflect on your life. Some things that were important may no longer be as important as they were before. Are there activities that you have been thinking of doing or people you haven't seen that you would like to?

Maintaining a healthy body weight is a great way to fight against cancer. Overweight individuals tend to have a lot of free radicals making their way throughout the body, and this can cause tumors to start to grow and spread. Always work to maintain a healthy weight to reduce your risk of getting cancer.

Depression can have a big impact on your health, and that strength is better directed to fighting cancer, rather than depression. They might just give in.

Jeff Geschwind Qualified tips provider. Women hoping to prevent breast cancer should choose their physicians wisely. Always make sure to visit an expert in mammography. A start-up clinic or a medical professional straight out of school may not be your best option. Find someone with plenty of experience in the field to improve your chances of catching signs of cancer early.

Do not be scared to feel a bit of discomfort if you have to get your breasts screened for cancer. Any discomfort that you feel will only last a couple of minutes. Screening procedures are designed to save your life by catching a problem while it is still manageable. The possibility of experiencing a little discomfort should be no reason to avoid periodic screening for cancer.

Staying out of the sun is key in preventing skin cancer, but most people do not listen to this advice in the wintertime. Believe it or not, the same UV rays from the sun penetrate the atmosphere in the cooler months too. You might not feel the heat, but you will receive the same radiation.

As a friend and support system for someone with cancer, you need to make sure you eat healthy and get plenty of rest. It is important that you feel good and have energy; even just listening and emphasizing with your friend can be an exhausting process. The better you feel, the more you will be able to help.

When you are first diagnosed with cancer, you should immediately make an appointment with your dentist. When making your appointment, inform the receptionist of your diagnosis so they can get you in quickly. Treatment can sometimes affect your oral health. Therefore, before starting any treatment plan it is necessary to have a dental cleaning and any necessary dental work done.

Jeff Geschwind Skilled tips provider. Not every article of clothing will help keep the suns rays off of your skin. If the shops in your local area don't stock UV protective clothing, buy clothes from online retailers instead.

It is important for cancer patients to know that there is financial help available. Going through cancer treatments may cause you to lose your job and leave you struggling financially. For instance, the American Cancer Society had offices throughout the country that can help you with making sure your bills are paid.

In order to properly deal with a loved one that has been diagnosed with cancer it is very important to deal with your own feelings first. It is hard to think about what may happen to someone close that has been diagnosed with cancer but if you deal with your feelings first it will be easier for you to appropriately deal with them.

Let your loved ones do your housework for you. You need to preserve your energy for your battle against cancer. They are sure to happily take care of all of the housework for you during this time. Do not hesitate to take advantage of anyone's offer to help you with the things that need done.

The hormone fluctuations that result from some cancer treatments can cause hot flashes in both women and men. To control these episodes, wear loose layers of cotton material, keep a fan nearby, and avoid hot beverages and spicy foods. If these methods are not effective, discuss possible drugs and supplements with your doctor.

Jeff Geschwind Top service provider. The things we do not know about are the most dangerous to us. At least knowing that you have cancer, as gloomy and scary as it is, puts you in the position to do something about it. Use the information you've learned here to be proactive. Do all within your power to fight it, and to continue to live a happy and productive life.

[wisdomrays]

THE RELENTLESS ENEMY OF THE DEVOTED SOULS: SATAN: Part 2

Satan and the family

Satan harries everyone in accordance with their capacity. He primarily deals with people who are held in esteem by a certain number of people. He tries to conquer the top first. He rejoices at success since it pleases him to spread evil on earth. In a relevant hadith, the Messenger of God stated: “The Devil sets his throne on water: Then he sends his forces here and there to do evil.” Some of them succeed at making people become involved in usury, some provoke the eye to look at forbidden sights, trigger bohemian feelings and make people act upon their lust. Some of them control the mouth and make it lie, backbite, or slander others. It can be said that each one of his aides does what they will according to their special ability to tempt. “The nearest to him in rank are those that cause the greatest dissension. All of them go to the Devil to tell him what they did. One of them comes and says: ‘I did this and this.’ But the Devil tells him, “‘You have done nothing.’”

Actually, the Devil is pleased with every sin committed, for in every sin there is a path to unbelief. Every sin brings about a dark spot on the heart. At the same time, a person committing a sin is taking a step to distance him or herself further from God. However, the Devil expects more from his aides. “Then one of them comes and says (something about a common problem in our time): ‘I did not spare such and such man until he broke up with his wife.’ The Devil calls him to come nearer and compliments him: ‘You have done well!’”

What is it that makes Satan rejoice like this, and why did he make such a hearty compliment to his aide? Because the home is the molecule of a society; disintegration begins there. It is beyond our power to correct anything in society that is corrupted at such a level. When all of these are taken into consideration, we see that Satan ranks the evils he will do according to their degree of importance. In his strategy, he first tries to topple “heavy-weight” people who have influence on others. When he succeeds at toppling these people, those in the lower category become easier prey for him. Some of them will already come running with a simple beckoning. For this reason, Satan harries the respected Prophets first, and then the scholars of purity (asfiya), the reputable saints (awliya al-fiham), and the great scholars of sound judgment (mujtahidin al-izam). Those devoted to glorifying the Name of God are also among his primary targets.

He will not leave them alone and keeps striving to make them dizzy, avert their gaze, and busy themselves with unnecessary things.

Historic figures subjected to attacks

Just like devils, their human accomplices inclined for corruption also target friends of God most of all. For instance, you see in a television series that a great figure, like Suleiman the Magnificent, who spent most of his life on horseback, is reflected as a person who spent an immoral life in the palace. Without basing the character on any reliable source, they introduce him as drinker, as someone who led a bohemian life. We seek refuge in God against such considerations. The late Malek Bennabi, who was a great Algerian writer and philosopher said, “If it weren’t for the Turkish society in the North of the Islamic world, there would not be an Islamic world at all today. If it weren’t for the Turks, there would be no Islam on earth today.” Those who make offhanded remarks about that great sultan do not know that he was the person who helped people across such a wide region to live in peace during his nearly half century of rule. Today’s ills, like incitement, terror, and unrest, were prevalent in those days, too. However, such leaders sacrificed their comfort, stood up against danger, and overcame all of these problems. Imagining the limited troubles that accost me from within, I try to imagine the troubles those great sultans faced, and I try to figure out their condition. I guess what I suffered for a lifetime only amounts to what they suffered overnight; most of us do not go through such pains for an entire life. Some things are easier said than done. We ordinary people would probably be crushed under those troubles had they befallen us. Due to its leaders’ fortitude and character, certain saints mentioned the Ottoman state—before it came to existence—and stated that it ranks after the period of the Righteous caliphs with respect to its level of importance. However, some TV programs produced by those unaware of the time’s worth present a completely distorted image of those great figures. May God enable us to see truths and save everybody from wrongdoing and unfairness.

[zxal]

please at least try to remember

[andromeda3116]

So let's talk about the Lost Generation.

This is the generation that came of age during WWI and the 1918 flu pandemic. They witnessed their world collapse in the first war that spread around the globe, and they -- in retrospect, optimistically -- called it the "war to end all wars". And that war was a quagmire. The trenches on the Western Front were notoriously awful, unsanitary and cold and wet and teeming with sickness, and bloody battles were fought to gain or lose a few feet of territory, and all because a series of alliances caused one assassination in one unstable area to spiral into a brutal large-scale war fought on the ground by people who mostly had no personal stake in the outcomes and gained nothing from winning.

On some of the worst-hit battlefields, the land is still too toxic for plant growth.

And on the heels of this horrific war, a pandemic struck. It's often referred to as "the Spanish flu" because Spain was neutral in the war, and so was the first country to admit that their people were dropping like flies. By the time the warring countries were willing to face the disease, it was far too late to contain it.

Anywhere from 50 to 100 million people worldwide would die from it. 675,000 were in the US.

But once it was finally contained -- anywhere from a year to a year and a half later -- the 20s had begun, and they began roaring.

Hedonism abounded. Alcohol flowed like water in spite of Prohibition. Music and dance and art fluorished. It was the age of Dadaism, an artistic movement of surrealism, absurdism, and abstraction. Women's skirts rose and haircuts shortened in a flamboyant rejection of the social norms of the previous decades. It was a time of glitter and glamour and jazz and flash, and (save for the art that was made) it was mostly skin deep.

Everyone stumbled out of the war and pandemic desperate to forget the horrific things they'd seen and done and all that they'd lost, and lost for nothing.

Reality seemed so pointless. It's not a coincidence that the two codifiers of the fantasy genre -- J.R.R. Tolkein and C.S. Lewis -- both fought in WWI. In fact, they were school friends before the war, and were the only two of their group to return home. Tolkein wanted to rewrite the history of Europe, while Lewis wanted to rebuild faith in the escape from the world.

(There's a reason Frodo goes into the West: physically, he returned to the Shire, but mentally, he never came back from Mordor, and he couldn't live his whole life there. There's a reason three of the Pevensies can never let go of Narnia: in Narnia, unlike reality, the things they did and fought for and believed in actually mattered, were actually worth the price they paid.)

It's also no coincidence that many of the famous artists of the time either killed themselves outright or let their vices do them in. The 20s roared both in spite of and because of the despair of the Lost Generation.

It was also the era of the Harlem Renaissance, which came to the feelings of alienation and disillusionment from a different direction: there was a large migration of Black people from the South, many of whom moved to the Harlem neighborhood of New York City. Obviously, the sense of alienation wasn't new to Black people in America, but the cultural shift allowed for them to publicly express it in the arts and literature in ways that hadn't been open to them before.

There was also horrific -- and state-sanctioned -- violence perpetrated against Black communities in this time, furthering the anger and despair and sense that society had not only failed them but had never even given them a chance. The term at the time was shell-shock, but now we know it as PTSD, and the vast majority of the people who came of age between 1910 and 1920 suffered from it, from one source or another.

It was an entire generation of trauma, and then the stock market crashed in 1929. Helpless, angry, impotent in the face of all that had seemingly destroyed the world for them, on the verge of utter despair, it was also a generation vulnerable to despotism. In the wake of all this chaos -- god, please, someone just take control of all this mess and set it right.

Sometimes the person who took over was decent and played by the rules and at least attempted to do the right thing. Other times, they were self-serving and hateful and committed to subjugating anyone who didn't fit their mold.

There are a lot of parallels to now, but we have something they didn't, and that's the fact that they did it first.

We know what their mistakes and sins were. We have the gift of history to see the whole picture and what worked and what failed. We as a species have walked this road before, and we weren't any happier or stronger or smarter about it the first time.

I think I want to reiterate that point: the Lost Generation were no stronger or weaker than Millennials and Gen Z are today. Plenty of both have risen up and fought back, and plenty have stumbled and been crushed under the weight. Plenty have been horribly abused by the people who were supposed to lead them, and plenty have done the abusing. Plenty of great art has been made by both, and plenty of it is escapist fantasy or scathing criticism or inspiring optimism or despairing pessimism.

We find humor in much the same things, because when reality is a mess, both the absurd and the self-deprecating become hilarious in comparison. There's a reason modern audiences don't find Seinfeld as funny as Gen X does, and many older audiences find modern comedy impenetrable and baffling -- they're different kinds of humor from different realities.

I think my point accumulates into this: in spite of how awful and hopeless and pointless everything feels, we do have a guide. We've been through this before, as a culture, and even though all of them are gone now, we have their words and art and memory to help us. We know now what they didn't then: there is a future.

The path forward is a hard one, and the only thing that makes it easier is human connection. Art -- in the most base sense, anything that is an expression of emotion and thought into a medium that allows it to be shared -- is the best and most enduring vehicle for that connection, to reach not just loved ones but people a thousand miles or a hundred years away.

So don't bottle it up. Don't pretend to be okay when you're not. Paint it, sculpt it, write it, play it, sing it, scream it, hell, you can even meme it out into the void. Whatever it takes to reach someone else -- not just for yourself but for others, both present and future.

Because, to quote the inimitable Terry Pratchett, "in a hundred years we'll all be dead, but here and now, we are alive."

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hello! Can you write something with female Y/N and Chishiya? She helped him with something and is injured after that. She fell or burn her back or hit her head, but pretends that nothing happened since she think he doesn't care and the injury it's getting worst by days, Chishiya didn't notice at first and he just don't understand why Y/N is not talking with him but lets it go, then the day of game comes and they both have to play and Y/N faints few hours before registration. He is panicking suddenly aware of his own feelings towards her and he is SO worried and feels guilty. I hope you can add a lot of angst but fluffy end? I'm sorry if this is messy, english is not my first language 😭 Thank you!

Of course! And don’t worry your English is great 😊 I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Panicked Confession | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Kuina, Usagi, Ann, Hatter)

Summary: You get badly burnt while saving Chishiya in a game, but made sure he knew nothing about it. Just before leaving for the next game, you pass out and Chishiya finds you, causing him to panic

Warning: swearing, burn injury, vomiting, fainting

Word Count: 4.9k

*reader is female

“Shit! Guys come on!”

You, Chishiya, Kuina and Usagi rushed through the bottom floor of the building. Flames were curling in the air around each side of you, quickly closing in to eat you alive.

All four of you had almost completed the game, being the only players left after the last puzzle of the building. It was a diamond game, a game of intelligence. You were lucky to have been with Chishiya, as Diamonds games were his specialty.

You were all sprinting across the room, together in a tight pack so the flames don’t manage to touch you. You were panting, feeling your lungs collapsing in on themselves, but you had to press on. Only a few more steps before you could jump through the glass window at the end of the room, which was quickly being engulfed.

Suddenly, you saw Chishiya, who was running next to you, trip on a loose bit of debris laying on the ground inconveniently. You looked back and saw him holding his ankle in pain.

Of course, just your luck.

You all stopped abruptly, skidding along the floor and looking back to Chishiya in fear. He saw you all, his eyes widening.

“What are you doing?! Go!” he called out, wincing in pain.

You looked towards Kuina and Usagi, watching as thoughts spiraled around their heads to figure out what to do. The flame was too close behind Chishiya for it to be safe, if someone was to help him, they would have to risk their life doing so.

Both Kuina and Usagi shook their heads and looked away. They turned away from Chishiya and began jogging towards the window again. You froze. There’s no way they would just leave him like that.

“Guys!” You called out to them. They turned to you with fearful expressions painted on their face. “What are you doing?!” You asked, fear and worry dripping from your words. You had to make up your mind soon or you would be burned to a crisp.

Kuina motioned for you to come to her. “Y/N, there’s no time! We have to go!” you could tell she felt awful about this decision, but you weren’t giving up just yet.

You looked back at Chishiya laying on the ground. He was staring at you with a worried expression, wanting you to hurry up and leave him. You couldn’t leave a friend that easy to die. You had to at least try.

You let out a big sigh and lifted your aching legs to race towards Chishiya. He began yelling at you the moment you started running. “No, no, no! Go Y/N! What are you doing?!”

You ignored his shouting and quickly knelt down beside him to lift his arm around your shoulders. You weren’t going to lose anyone else, you promised yourself that after your friends died in the first game you played after appearing in the Borderlands.

Chishiya kept arguing and shaking his head as you tried to lift his body. He was surprisingly heavy for someone his size. “Y/N, go! There’s no time! You can’t save me!” he at screamed you, becoming more desperate with every plea.

You continued to ignore him and began dragging him along towards the window, where Kuina and Usagi were already working on breaking the glass with debris from around them. “You’re not going to off yourself that easily Chishiya as long as I have a say in it,” you rasped out, struggling to keep upright with the extra weight on your shoulders.

As your heart pounded in your ears and you felt the fire become hotter and hotter around you, you suddenly felt an incredibly sharp pain across your spine. The sensation spread all through your body, from your head to your toe, making you cry out and almost collapse to the ground, but you stayed strong.

Chishiya had given up arguing with you, using his good leg to take a bit of his body weight off your pained shoulders. With his help, you managed to move much quicker, limping and staggering your way towards Kuina and Usagi, who had broken the window and were now waiting for you to come, yelling at you to hurry up.

You didn’t look back; you didn’t want to see how close the flames were. You knew it would do nothing but make the situation worse.

As you neared the window, you slowed down as Kuina ran out to help you lift Chishiya up and out of the window. You were relying completely on adrenaline at that point, having lost all of your strength through running and carrying Chishiya.

You managed to lift yourself through the cracked window, earning a few cuts from the leftover glass on the way, and collapsed onto the grass ground below you. A large barrier from inside the room (probably manufactured for the games) closed over the destroyed window as you fell, being lucky to be the last out of the four of you to escape. The flames were locked in, unable to harm you.

The four of you laid on the grass, panting and trying to regain your breath. As your adrenaline calmed down, the pain of your large burn mark set in. You covered your face with your hand and silently screamed against it, trying to drown out the searing pain somehow. You couldn’t worry the others, not after what just happened.

**************

The next couple of days was nothing but a struggle for you. As soon as you arrived back from the game, you stumbled your way to Ann’s medical room. She took a closer look at your burn wound, applying whatever she had to try and reduce the chance of it getting infected. But unfortunately, that didn’t reduce the pain.

After allowing Ann to wrap a bandage around your upper back to protect the wound, you slowly made your way back to your room on the upper floor. You didn’t want to rush yourself in case you made your wound worse, so you took your time in getting there.

Unfortunately, it was a bit too much time, as you managed to bump into Chishiya who popped out from around the corner. A small panic raised within you; you didn’t want Chishiya to see you like this! It’s embarrassing enough to like someone you had no chance with, but for them to see you stumbling and holding onto the wall because you can’t even keep yourself up? No, not today.

You stood more upright than before, giving Chishiya your best fake smile. “Hey Y/N,” he said, walking past you. You breathed a sigh of relief. Well, that wasn’t too bad.

You started to walk again before you heard Chishiya call out from behind you. “Oh, wait Y/N!”

You turned around, biting your tongue so you didn’t let out a yelp of pain as the skin on your back twisted with your movements. “Yeah?” you acknowledged him.

He gave you a half-hearted smile. “Thanks again, for earlier. I would’ve been a goner if you hadn’t risked your life like that for me,” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. You’ve never seen him thank someone before, so you were shocked.

“Oh, it was no big deal! We should all help each other out, considering we haven’t really got anything else other than each other,” you said, smiling happily. You felt all giddy from him acknowledging the fact that you risked yourself for him.

“Yeah, but it was still pretty cool of you. Even Kuina and Usagi were willing to leave me there,” he chuckled as his own joke.

You laughed and shook your head at him. “I’m sure they were just doing what they thought was best for everyone else in the moment.”

Chishiya nodded and gave you a small wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then! Hatter let me know in the meeting this evening that you and I are together again. I’m glad though, because you seem to have the skill and brains to get through some tough games.”

You were flattered by his compliment. “Thanks, you too though! We would have burnt to a crisp if it weren’t for you during that diamond game tonight.”

The small talk was killing you. You just wanted to get back to your room and wallow in the silence that engulfed it. At least there, you could suffer from your burn wound a little louder than out in the public eye of The Beach.

Chishiya laughed at your statement. “No, I’m sure with you there it would’ve been fine,” he said back, making you smile wider.

“I’ll see you later then,” you exclaimed, waving a hand at him. He waved back with a grin on his attractive features before he turned around and continued down the hall with his hands tucked into their usual spot in his hoodie pockets.

You let out a big sigh of relief. That was close. You felt the pain seeping through your body the longer you stood there, hoping for Chishiya to just end the conversation. You felt guilty, it may have looked like you were trying to escape, since you were slowly backing towards the corner. Hopefully, he didn’t notice.

You stumbled the rest of the way towards your room, wincing and hissing in pain on the way. It felt like Ann didn’t do anything at all, but you couldn’t blame her. She had extremely limited resources and could only leave to search for more every few weeks.

When you finally made it to the door of your room, the familiar number engraved onto the middle of it, you gripped the handle and walked inside.

You collapsed onto your bed onto your stomach. There was no way you would be able to sleep on your back with this kind of pain, so you had to resort to either on your side or on your stomach.

Let’s just say, you had a restless sleep.

****************

You were hoping after a night’s sleep that the pain from your back would have disappeared at least a little bit. But you couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything, it had become worse. You probably managed to roll onto it a few times during the night, reopening any part of the wound that had sealed up over the time you’ve had it.

It took you far too long to get out of bed in the morning. You groaned and moaned in frustration as you crawled your way out of the duvet, almost collapsing off your bed. You felt rather pathetic, but who wouldn’t after not being able to do the simplest of tasks from a wound.

As you were walking to your closet to look for something to wear, you remembered you had to go see Ann again that morning. She had told you last night to return to her medical room the next morning so she could reapply a new bandage onto you, in case the other one gets bacteria or blood on it during the night somehow.

You quickly put on your usual swimmers to wear around the hotel and the black hoodie that you wore most of the time when you got cold. You didn’t want to risk anyone else seeing your wound. The gaping burn mark across your upper back was bound to attract unwanted attention.

You made your way down the hall to go see Ann again. There was nobody in the halls around the rooms due to it being close to noon. You slept in longer than you expected.

You slowly walked down the couple of flights of stairs, making your way to Ann’s medical room on the lower floor. The walk down to the lobby felt longer at that moment than it ever had.

You approached the door with the red cross along the front of it, indicating the medical room. You were about to lift your hand to turn the doorknob before you heard a loud voice yell from further down the corridor.

You shifted your eyes and saw none other than Chishiya striding down the hallway with his usual cocky smirk painted across his face. Of course, you had to run into him out of all people.

“Y/N! Wait!” he yelled as he jogged up to you.

You stayed silent, waiting to hear what he had to say. You wanted to ignore him and just walk into the medical room to see Ann to avoid any kind of questioning or suspicion from him, but you knew that would only make him more curious.

“Hey, you alright?” he frowned, questioning you. He reached out to place a gentle hand on your forearm, but you flinched away before he could touch you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to sound normal. The piercing feeling that your wound brought you began to make its way around your body again, making you slightly shift and shake. ‘Of course, it just has its moment while I’m talking to the one person that I don’t want to look like a weakling in front of,’ you thought to yourself in your head.

Chishiya frowned at your flinch, but seemed to shake it off quickly, moving onto something else. “So anyway, where were you this morning?” he asked, leaning closer to you.

“I-I was in my room. I had a late sleep in,” you said, gripping the doorknob to the medical room.

“Oh, weird. Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?” he said with a smirk on his face.

‘Oh shit, he’s mocking my bad memory,” you thought, feeling embarrassed.

“Um… no? Should I?”

“You, Kuina, Alice, Usagi and I were going to meet up this morning to steal some food from the kitchen and take it to the rooftop. You didn’t show up near the pool where we said we were going to meet!” he exclaimed. He was laughing, obviously not caring too much about your forgetfulness.

You thought for a second. You did recall having that conversation. You guessed that you forgot about it because you were so focused on trying to reduce the pain from your burn. Even if you did remember, as if you would’ve been able to run away from the chefs in the kitchen after taking the food with this injury.

“Me and Kuina even knocked on your door. You must have been really knocked out if you didn’t wake up from Kuina’s loud yelling.”

He then raised his eyebrow and smirked. “Unless you were hiding from me?”

Your could tell he was obviously joking, but he wasn’t far off from being right. That has been your intention since last night, but trust Chishiya to figure you out quickly enough.

You heart rate picked up from his accurate accusation. “Uh, sorry Chishiya, but I really have to go,” you mumbled out, giving him a quick fake smile before walking into the medical room and closing the door behind you.

Chishiya’s mischievous smirk fell from his face. You didn’t even give him a chance to say goodbye, and you seemed oddly nervous from his accusation that you were avoiding him. He felt somewhat hurt. Were you trying to avoid him?

He shook off his suspicions and continued down the corridor to the lobby to find something to entertain him for the meantime. You wouldn’t try to avoid him, would you? Perhaps he’ll confront you about it later.

*************

You were laying in your room reading a book when you heard the usual ring of the bell that was Hatter’s signal for everyone to move down to the lobby to prepare for the night’s games.

“Shit! Is it that late already?” you asked no one, glancing over at the digital clock on your nightstand.

You panicked and saw it was the time that you would head out to games. You said to yourself earlier that you would give yourself an early mark so you could get down there at the right time, considering you would be slow due to your condition, but you got distracted by your book and lost track of time.

You rushed to your feet a little too quickly for your body’s liking, causing the pain of your wound to shoot across your back without mercy, making you yelp in pain and fall forwards.

You managed to catch yourself before you face planted into the ground. You let out a few deep breaths, trying to regain your strength while the piercing pain became worse from your insistence.

You pushed yourself off the ground, placing your foot underneath you and attempting to stand to your feet. You had to make it to the cars at least, you knew if anyone found you at The Beach during game time, they would mark you a coward, or worse: a traitor.

You cursed under your breath and let out pained sobs as you tried to get to your feet again. But unfortunately, your body just wasn’t on your side at that moment.

Your feet gave out underneath you and your head pounded, causing you to feel dizzy and suddenly nauseated. You leant forwards as you emptied the contents of your stomach out onto the floor, gagging on the taste of it in the back of your throat.

Your eyes began to feel heavy, not being able to take the pain and stress you were under. You managed to roll yourself to the side so you wouldn’t land in the pile of vomit and lay yourself across the floor safely before you face planted.

“Fuck,” you rasped out, feeling helpless at that moment.

You couldn’t do anything as your vision narrowed, passing out from pain on the floor of your own room, no one around to help you.

*************

“Hello again everyone! I would like to say a few words before we all get into our groups and drive to our games!”

Hatter’s usual booming voice thrusted across the crowd in front of him. Another night, another gathering. Just like every other day.

Chishiya stood at his usual spot in the back, leaning against the cement wall and rolling his eyes at Hatter’s words. He never seemed to have anything useful to say. Just some preachy words that created false hope.

‘How about for a change, he gave us some advice? It would probably spare some people a few headaches,’ Chishiya thought to himself.

He stood on his toes and tried to search the crowd for the top of your head. He was becoming anxious. You would usually be down in the lobby by now.

He was more nervous due to the way you’ve been acting all day. Usually, you two were joined at the hip twenty-four seven, but the only time he saw you that day was in the morning when you walked into the medical room.

He wondered why you were going in there. You never went to Ann unless it was for something drastic, but you seemed completely healthy and unharmed.

As the time ticked on, Chishiya became more and more worried. You would never skip out on a game; you were too afraid of being caught by the executives for that.

Hatter finished off his nightly speech with the list of groups and which number wristbands go where. Chishiya didn’t even care to pay attention as everyone began making their way towards the entrance of the hotel where they would pile into the cars and drive off to the games. He ran the opposite way, clambering up the flights of stairs to reach the level your room is on. If you had to be anywhere, it would be there.

He powered his legs into a sprint, having to brush his white locks out of his face once or twice due to them getting in the way. He eventually arrived at your room, stopping and panting to regain his breath.

He knocked on your door quietly at first, not knowing if you were asleep or something. “Y/N?” he called out through the door. “We need to head off to the games. Did you not hear the bell?”

When he received nothing but silence as an answer, he took it upon himself to walk in to see if you were there. He opened the door and peeked his head around the side, being careful in case you were indecent for some reason.

As he walked in further, his heart dropped as he saw you laying on the ground passed out.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, rushing over to your body and kneeling beside you. He lifted your head onto his lap gently and immediately checked your neck for a pulse. A small feeling of relief flowed through him when he felt the beat of your heart on his fingers.

“Oh my god Y/N, what’s happened to you?” he stressed, tapping your cheek with his hand to see if you would wake. He was beginning to become more worried as time ticked on. He glanced over at the clock on your nightstand and saw that it was getting later. He had to wake you up before registration closed for all the games.

He lifted you up from under your arms, using all his strength to pull you into your small bathroom. He placed you gently on the tiled floor, stuffing a towel underneath your head for support. He quickly shifted your body around, trying to look for any source of injury that caused you to pass out. He froze when he noticed a few stains of blood on the back of your hoodie. He quickly lifted the hem of your shirt to see what was causing the stains.

His eyes almost popped out of his head from the sight. He gasped at the huge burn wound on your back, stretching across from your shoulder blades to your waist. The bandage that Ann had wrapped around it had come loose, hanging off your abdomen carelessly. His heart filled with guilt as he examined it more closely. Why didn’t he look after you?

He immediately put two and two together and realized that you had probably passed out from the pain of the burn mark.

He stood up from his position on the floor and grabbed a small cloth from your towel rack, running it under the water from the tap. He knelt back down next to you and carefully placed the wet fabric against your wound. He was so afraid of hurting you, but he had to do what he could to make you better for the game.

“Oh, come on, please wake up Y/N,” he breathed out. Stress and anxiety filled his tone, making the air more tense.

“Please wake up, please be okay. I love you, please don’t die Y/N,” he suddenly felt small tears gathering in his eyes as he stood up quickly to refresh the cloth that he was using to clean the burn.

He felt his hidden feelings begin to pour out of his mouth. He couldn’t handle the strain seeing you like this was having on his emotions.

He brought the cloth back, but this time he turned you over slightly so he could place it on your face. Your eyes were still shut tightly, not showing any indication of opening.

Chishiya ran the fingers of his other hand along your cheek, tapping softly on your skin, hoping that you would wake up from the physical contact. He felt desperate. He has never felt this helpless before, not even in games.

He allowed his few tears to fall down his cheek, lifting your head and pressing his forehead against yours. “Please wake up, we have to go. Just wake up and I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled out with shaky breaths.

He didn’t know what else to do. He could do nothing but hope.

A few minutes passed with Chishiya just holding you and pressing the cold cloth onto your face, trying to make you open your eyes. And eventually you did.

Chishiya breathed in a huge sigh of relief when he saw your eyes flutter open slowly, dazed and confused. He smiled and kept the cloth pressed to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed out, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you into his chest for a close hug. You groaned loudly at the contact as Chishiya accidentally placed his hand on your wound.

“Chishiya, be careful,” you rasped out against his chest. He flinched away immediately and apologized.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, lifting you up under your arms again. You groaned, not being able to stand up on your own yet. Chishiya kept you close to his chest as you leant against him.

He managed to clean you up with you leaning most of your body weight on him. He helped you wash out your mouth and clean your teeth to get rid of the taste of vomit and reapplied the bandage that had fallen off your wound. He did it all with such care and concern, being afraid of hurting you or overwhelming you with anything.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the games?” you asked after you had finished rinsing your face.

“I noticed you weren’t at the lobby when Hatter called everyone, so I ran to your room and found you,” he answered, fixing your hoodie on your back from when he had to lift it to clean your injury.

“So, everyone’s gone?” you asked with a worried expression. Chishiya nodded, leaning on the sink next to you to check your face to see if you were alright.

“But if they find us, they’ll mark us as traitors!” you exclaimed, fear filling your head.

Chishiya placed his index finger on your lips to shush you. “Shh, only if they can hear us. We can just stay in here and be quiet, and hopefully no one suspects that we’re missing,” he said, smiling to calm you down.

You searched his eyes for any uncertainty but chose to let it go and just listen to him. “Okay.”

You both sat side by side on the floor of your small bathroom, Chishiya running his hand up and down your arm to keep your anxiety away. After a while of comfortable silence, you spoke up.

“Thanks, Chishiya, for helping me. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be lying on the ground next to a pile of my own puke,” you laughed at yourself.

Chishiya giggled. “It’s okay. I care about you Y/N, I couldn’t just leave you there.”

You looked at him with sparkling eyes, being taken back by his statement. “Really?” you asked, not believing him.

He smiled lovingly and caressed your cheek with his fingers. “Of course, I’d do anything if it was to help you.”

You thought you would have a cute moment together, but that flew out the window when Chishiya slapped you lightly across the cheek. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to bring a shocked expression onto your face.

“But next time, tell me when you’re hurt instead of trying to hide it from me like an idiot! You really think you’d be able to hide something like this from me?” he scolded you like a mother, but you giggled at his reaction.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you next time. Why did I ever think I could keep something from someone with an intelligent mind like yours,” you teased, leaning closer to his face.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows. “Hm, thanks, I guess? Not sure if that was a compliment or if you’re poking fun at me.”

You chuckled. “Take it however you want,” you whispered. You finally closed to space between you, allowing your lips to clash against his. Chishiya let out a shocked sound, but quickly melted against you and accepted your kiss.

You both sat on the floor of your bathroom, moving your mouths together while Chishiya tried hard to place his hands on you without touching your burn mark. You appreciated his care, but he ended up having to awkwardly place them on your upper arms, rubbing up and down them slowly.

You pulled away first, making Chishiya chase your lips as you moved away, making you giggle. “There’s my thank you gift,” you said cheekily, leaning away from him and back into your seating position.

Chishiya pouted at you. “That’s it? That was barely a kiss!” he argued, trying to move closer to you, wanting more of your affection.

“Chishiya, your tongue was in my mouth. I think that clarifies as a kiss,” you stated, placing your hand on his mouth and pushing him away gently. “Maybe let down that tough guy persona more often and take care of me, maybe then you’ll get more kisses.”

Chishiya leaned back and frowned. “Fine, but don’t expect this to be the norm now. I’m not going to let you control my personality just for a bit of affection.”

Well, that was a lie.

Author’s Note: Every Chishiya fanfic I’ve written has had some sort of angsty moment in it 😂 this man is going through it

[babydook]

Yandere Feng Min

Dead by Daylight

Yandere type: Manipulative, Obsessive, Possessive

Headcannons

Difficulty: Hard

You're new to the fog and practically oblivious to the hell that awaits you. You've been in barely a handful of the trials and from what little you've learnt, you'd do anything to keep it that way. Unfortunately this realm isn't so forgiving.

The moments you happen to hate the least are the ones inbetween the death games. Sitting at the miserable camp fire, surrounded by (mostly) friendly strangers.

Not only are you confused, you're completely shell-shocked. At least the others, who seem to have been here much longer, are trying their best to explain what the fuck is going on.

It's difficult to understand but even more so to really take in. What do you mean that you're stuck here? What do you mean that you can die but can't die?

Nobody likes seeing the newbie suffer and nobody wants to be the one to break the bad news that this is going to be your new forever.

You can feel the looks of pity being cast your way. Their half-hearted sympathy makes the skin on your back crawl because it only solidifies that something is seriously wrong here.

Watching you be so grateful makes her ego happy.

It takes her a while to notice you, but immediately once she does she begins to wonder why.

You're learning the ropes and that makes you a liability. The people here have reassured you that they do want to help, but you can tell they aren't dying for you.

Every time you fumble, miss a skill check or waste a pallet you can taste the shame mingling with the blood in your mouth. They're always judging, even if they give you the benefit of the doubt. You can't believe that you're embarrassed about something like your reputation in an endless death situation.

Maybe you've caused one too many issues or sandbagged a bit too frequently. Even if they're accidental your well intentioned mishaps really suck. She sees you screw over a teammate and then cry about it to them later on when the trials over, apologising profusely. Why are you the one crying?

Whilst she doesn't want to risk guiding you because it's distracting and dangerous to babysit in a trial, she can't help but feel like leaving you on your own is going to bite her in the ass later. Next time it could be her you accidentally slam a pallet on. She doesn't want that shit happening.

She'll bite the bullet albeit hesitantly. Huffing as she approaches you and tugs your hand mid trial, surprising the both of you as she leads you to an objective. "Let's get this generator done, yeah?" not waiting for your response.

Watching you mess up boosts her drive to compete.

The more time that she spends with you, the less annoying she finds you. She doesn't feel the need to tell you off. You seem to be reprimanding yourself enough, clearly mortified whenever you screw up. Honestly she begins to find your visible hesitance somewhat cute.

She thought that it'd be annoying to always have to take the lead but it feels great to have someone recognise her efforts alone.

Showing off in front of you almost tricks her into feeling something akin to excitement. That dumbstruck look on your face when you watch her do something so foolishly reckless is actually adorable. It becomes a source of motivation to give her best.

Your concern makes her feel all fuzzy inside, and the guilt of causing it feels miles away, drowned out by the lush warmth spreading through her chest.

She's always been a competitive person. At this point you've become somewhat of a trophy or a goal to her, but don't let that fool you into thinking that this is all you are to her. She would never devalue you intentionally.

Your viewership makes her feel unstoppable.

She actually becomes very somewhat dependant on you.

She doesn't quite know what it is about your eyes, but they just have to be on her. She constantly needs your attention. She'll go out of her way to perform crazy stunts to get it.

No matter if by the endgame she's on a sacrificial hook or out of breath at the exit gates, as long as your eyes are on her then she's won.

Feng can't remember the last time she felt so falsely stable. When you've been trapped in a killing game for long enough, you begin to forget that you're human. Trials are a chore. You spend endless amounts of time dying repeatedly over and over again only for nothing to ever come of it.

Days quite literally don't exist, there's no sense of time passage besides whether you're bleeding or not. Weeks begin to blur together. A minute can feel like a year and a year can feel like a week.

The only moments for her that really bring calm to the fog are right here, right now, with you.

Being the centre of your attention makes a heat so dreadfully strong kiss her mind that she really can't get enough of it.

She gets quite jealous, so you'll notice her attempting to isolate you from other survivors. She'd feel bad, but she just can't bear so many distractions buzzing around you like flies to her honey pot. It really pisses her off.

It began with a scoff when someone interrupted your conversations and has ended with beating someone up in the forest with promises of a sabotaged trial.

Your absence makes her feel small again.

She lives and she dies for these moments, literally. Therefore she's earned them. It's the closest thing a husk of a person can reach to almost pure tranquility. Your presence is absolutely euphoric, your gaze has her feeling drugged. Please, just sit here with her for a while.

The orange glow of the campfire casts dancing shadows across your face. It makes the glow of your eyes all of the more dramatic when you look into hers. She can't help but drink you all in. You look like a painting.

The entitys realm is so cold. Bleak. Brutal. So much happening, so many people and yet you have nothing to do but hurt and feel utterly alone.

The time that she spends with you, with her head on your lap, simply gazing up at your sweet features thaws her out. You have her melting. You bring warmth, excitement, and a new kind of safety.

You are her campfire, a place of reprieve between the trials. Of calm. The heat you cradle is rising up inside her, spilling into her veins with hot, sweet sensation. Her body experiences withdrawals when she's deprived of you. She actually begins to shiver.

She's quite bitter on her own now. Uninterested in both attitude and actions, but when you're around it's totally different. She just can't be bothered even pretending for anyone else.

It's not like she can stop you from seeing other people in the fog but she'll try her damn best. "Felix doesn't like you. Dwight's scared of us. I think Yun jin lead the killer to me last trial."

If making everyone else seem like scumbags isn't working, then she'll have to resort to good old fashioned guilt tripping.

Remember when you first arrived? You were so confused and dumb. Nobody else even took the time to explain the situation to you. Okay, they did, but not properly. Do you actually want to spend your time with people who don't have the time for you? She took you under her wing. She cares. You owe her for that, surely?

She's not "scaring people off," it just makes her so sorry to see you around those who don't care, instead of someone like her. What do you mean she's exaggerating? She's been here for an eternity longer than you, she knows better than almost anyone else here. She knows better than you.

A/N: Not requested but couldn't help myself. I have DBD brainrot rn <3

[rcksmith]

Sun — Kaz Brekker

Resume: Feelings are destabilizing things.

A/N: This story is not set in the books of Six Crows, I also changed the age of the characters to twenty-something because the idea of ​​writing something about a child makes me uncomfortable. All my stories, of any characters, are with them being of up age. Just like many fanfics out there in the teen series.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Mention of fight, swearing, mention of post-traumatic stress, angst, mention of kiss, mention of desire, desire, mention of death, but so fucking fluff.

Word count: 3k.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There were few things in life that he was absolutely sure of. Things that were immutable, solid, unshakable. That even the strongest of winds would not be able to shake the structure. A life built on the basis of an equation of chaos, suffering, death and despair generated a result where it was necessary to be sure of something. And one of those certainties was the ability of himself, of his instincts, of his intelligence, the notion that he himself was a person capable of resolving any type of situation with iron fists. The second was the certainty of the loyalty of his crows, of the two people who, he knew, would never turn their backs on him.

And the third... the third was that when Kaz Brekker first laid eyes on you, he was sure that you would divide his life between a before and an after.

It was a lepid, ferocious feeling that swept the body of The Bastard of the Barrel from the top of his head to the tip of his polished boots. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat, a shiver as if receiving a midnight sigh at the back of the neck. There was a quick sensation of burning in the heat of an icy fire, but his composure did not flinch a single millimeter. He had learned to keep it in all situations, trained with steel fists.

Kaz looked at you deeply, from the top of your hair to the tip of your feet, trying to find answers as to why you had triggered such disturbing sensations with a simple and ridiculous exchange of looks. But he found no answers. He found neither after a day, nor after a week, damn it, he did not find nor after a month!

You had joined the infamous trio because they needed a fighting expert, someone who could defeat a good number of men on her own without needing backup, which would make their bigger and more complex robberies much easier. And when they found you, a girl who had been the subject for a experiment to create super soldiers, your ability to fight, physical endurance, and your sense of loyalty, made you perfect for the job.

But none of that explained why, whenever the stormy blue eyes met yours, he felt like he was ricochet by living eels. It was exasperating, frustrating on so many levels that it was difficult to put into words. Kaz could not expose this misfortune to his two closest people, first because his pride in admitting a disturbance in his subtly balanced world was too great, and second that... even if he considered said that, he would not know how to name those feelings for express what he were feeling.

How would Jesper and Inej understand something that even he did not understand?

Kaz Brekker had a firm and calm demeanor, an implacably logical mind and a way of narrowing his eyes that ensured that his orders were carried out with great efficiency, all according to the moment he wished. Then, just as he did to get rid of any disturbance, he buried those sensations so deeply until, like his overwhelming pains and traumas, they stopped tormenting him.

He thought that, like his flawless and cunning plans, it would have the same effect. That his nerves could get back to normal and he wouldn't have to deal with the feeling that feel hiself whit cold and hot at the same time whenever he laid eyes on you.

But, if it was true that the practice makes perfect, this rule has not been applied in this situation.

The deeper he buried those beginnings of thats sensations, more of them began to flourish, roaring harder, as a constant reminder that he was not that rock of stoicity and absence of feelings that he liked to think he was. It seemed that, just as light existed to exorcise the darkness, you existed to show that he still had a beating heart. Hot blood still coursing through the veins.

It has not helped anything in his cause that, over time, Inej and Jesper have become attache to you. Jesper even more. But if Kaz put aside his frustration and irritation for a second, he would know that he couldn't to blame them. In fact, there was no way to blame every person who approached you, delighted.

Jesper once described you as "the soul of the party", and Inej said that you had fire in your soul. Kaz would not have been able to think of better definitions to put into words what you were. There was thing about the way you laughed, the way you talked, the way your tilting your head and your so easy smile. There was a thing about you. That transformed you into the solar system and people orbited in your gravity like planets.

You had a way with people, Kaz really thought it was a gift, a talent. You were always laughing, smiling, playing with people and making them so comfortable in your presence that, once, Kaz saw a trader, who are in a the middle of a refused to close a contract with Kaz, just melt and give up because of the smile you gave to him.

Nothing from you has been forced, malicious, shrewd or cunning. You really smiled, you really laughed, as if you were...happy. Purely happy. And, in a second of insanity, Kaz wondered if that happiness was possible. If it was possible for him to feel something like this.

But, just as Brekker took his soul close from you as much as he could to avoid any emotion, Jesper did the exact opposite. Very quickly, just like Kaz and Inej are, the two of you became a pair of inseparable friends. Were always together.

Perhaps it was because you two were overwhelmingly alike: Always in the eye of danger, addicted to adrenaline, purely outgoing and liked a good fun. Or maybe it was because, like everyone around you, Jesper felt drawn closer to your warm, joyful and comforting aura.

But whatever it was, the timbre of your laughter followed by Jesper's became a sound as natural as the whistling of the wind. And it didn't take long for you two to become partners in thefts and plans.

However, it didn't take long too for the reactions Kaz had about the influence of your presence to become...louder.

If Kaz Brekker closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, he could still remember and feel that night perfectly as if it were yesterday:

The plan was succinct: They would have to go through guards, high walls and locks to enter a merchant's residence, open the safe, pick up the jewels and leave. Twenty minutes was the time limit to complete that sequence.

Everyone was assigned to one thing: Kaz would turn off a fabricated security system from a Grisha, Inej would sneak into the shadows to the safe and pick up the jewels, and Jesper and you would be responsible for dealing with the various guards. Everyone would have to meet in the corridor that led to the back exit.

Kaz did not think that that so ridiculous and simple plan it could go wrong. Or that someone could make a slip. To him, it seemed as easy as sneaking into a yacht boat. However, there he was, next to Inej who carried the jewelery bag in her hand, both of them standing in that dimly lit corridor, waiting for you and Jesper to appear.

"It's been three minutes!" Inej pointed, as if Kaz didn't already know that.

Her intonation was concerned, apprehensive, with a certain fear. Kaz thought about saying something, but as soon as his mouth opened to say anything, he heard...

Steps. Hurried steps of two people. No, actually, the two people were running.

Suddenly, you and Jesper burst into the corridor, running as if their lives depended on it. Inej and Kaz would have been worried if it weren't for the bastard and peraltas smiles that stretched across faces of you two, stretching their cheeks.

Then Kaz noticed the reason for the delay. You two carried a giant picture under your left arms. Jesper carried the front end and you the back end, like two children who made a mischief and was running from their mother. True accomplices.

Kaz's jaw opened, his eyes widened slightly and roamed the frame with agitated iris, while Inej was totally baffled.

"C'mon, C'mon!" You exclaimed with laughter in your voice, Jesper and you never stopped running.

As soon all left and took shelter in the safety and peace of the Crow Club closed in that night, Jesper and you fell on the couch, laughing and panting.

"What was that?!” But Kaz was exasperated "Do you both know how much risked the plan?!"

"It was only three minutes, Boss." Jesper defended himself.

"It..." That's when Kaz looked at the painting responsible for all the commotion and fuss.

It was a painting, a landscape by Ravka. The fold. In oil on parchment. A DeKappel. That was worth at least ten thousand Kruges.

“You commented that you needed a new painting for your office.” Your voice took Kaz out of the admiration on the painting, and Jesper and Inej looked at you as if they had discovered that now too.

Jesper and Inej thought it was just for the money...

Kaz looked up into your eyes, and the cold, warm shiver spreading across his chest and snaking to his bones. As it always did the moment yours eyes meeting.

He remembered commenting in passing, in a very vague and obtuse way, that he wanted a new painting in the office. Until that moment, Brekker didn't think you paying attention to what he had to say. Not when it wasn't about a job or plan.

But there you were, proving that you had heard. And that you cared.

His breath caught for a second, the icy chill turned to something warmer, like the first sparks of fire in a fireplace. The first flames that precede the fire.

After that, Kaz began to pay more attention, unconsciously, to what you said. And, consequently, he started paying more attention to you. It had been gradual, sneaky as a snake, imperceptible so he wouldn't be able to root it out. As if the universe, destiny or divines, introduced, grain by grain, a small summer in a landscape frozen by winter.

It all started with your comment about liking it sweeter than salty, that dry wine left you with a headache and that you preferred rum. He evolved to notice how your tone of voice got sweeter when you talked to children or animals, and more serious when it came to the safety of the three crows. And suddenly, as if Kaz already knew this as he knew the sky was blue, he knew how to say how your eyes sparkled when you felt the warmth of the sun on your skin.

In that second, looking at you from the other side of the agitated club that turned into a celebration with dance and music, the world became suspended for a moment. The music became just an echoing, blurry noise, the images turned to slow motion and the air seemed to change in pitch. You, who laughed and speen round in Jesper's arms amid so many people who did the same thing, were the only one who starred as the main attraction.

In that minute, when the breath was slow and lyrical, and the air had a beauty tone, Kaz's eyes caught the exact moment when a beam of sunlight hit your face, shining on your skin as if you were one pirate tropical treasure. In a burst, a second of insanity, like a violin string that burst at the apice of the song, he felt that there was nothing else in the world worth seeing that was not you.

It was a scary, terrifying discovery. Something that made him freeze from head to toe, and all the speed in the world came back so fast that Kaz felt dizzy. He pressed his covered hand to the crow's beak of his cane, as if he needed a reminder of reality. Something that would wake him up from those hellish sensations.

- -

The months passed after that fateful afternoon. Kaz avoided staying close to you any longer than necessary and would strongly and vigorously scold every change of tone within himself whenever he saw you.

He didn't know what those sensations meant, but he also didn't want to find out. He liked challenges and responsibilities, but being around you was proving to be more than he could take. Your presence ignited him in a cold and warm fire, promising a future full of unfulfilled infinite wills. From pain, impotence and doomed to failure. Any feeling for you would be more of a punishment than anything else. The only solution was to get it out of your head.

Of course, he had been trying to do just that since he met you.

But again, the universe did not seem to want to give up from he. Not so easily.

Kaz had to take you along to make a deal with a merchant who was more impassable than a rock. Kaz had tried to negotiate with him before (since he couldn't take the strength or rob what he wanted) and all his efforts were in vain. So, he appealed for the last weapon. The person who always had a natural gift whit other people and always had a real smile that made anybody feel like... as if happiness really existed.

You.

"I'm glad it's hot" You commented, while walking next to Kaz "I don’t like the cold."

How did he know that you would say just that? That was so you. Warm, sweet and cozy things were the embodiment of what you were. It was logical that you preferred the heat. So different from him that, instead of you, enjoyed the cold. Liked the rains and storms, relaxed with the moonlight and felt less tense with the midnight winter breeze.

Kaz understood your personality as he understood the very lines of his hands. You were wild, bordering on reckless, you acted before thinking and you always loved anything that aroused adrenaline. You ran like no one else, jumped from one horse's cell to another, decided to catch the largest number of targets just because you wanted the thrill of fighting five against one. Anything calm, serene and peaceful stirred your restless personality. And Kaz knew exactly your level of restlessness from the way your leg was constantly jumping when you had to sit still for more than a few minutes.

You were a free spirit, forged in the heart of the sun and in the heat of summer. While he was limited by his own body and built in the heart of winter and frozen by the cold of the sea. Anything between you was doomed to fail even before you two met. Kaz Brekker knew this very well.

“He is late.” You grunted, your leg was already starting to jumping when you two spent a measly ten minutes waiting for the man.

You looked back and seemed to find it interesting, because Kaz saw your eyes shine.

"Let's go there?" You pointed, and Kaz had to turn around to see that you were referring to a coffee shop.

Crowded with sweets in the window for a change. Why was he not surprised?

“No.” He turned forward again, both hands on the cane.

"So I go over there and come back quickly."

“Y/n" he just said in a warning tone, giving you a scolding look.

You mumbled something he didn't identify, turned around again and did your best to be quiet. Five minutes passed before that merchant arrived, and Kaz can perfectly follow the change in his posture, change in the man eyes when you greeted him with that summer voice and sunny smile.

It was so vibrant, so vivid that, for a second, Kaz found himself slightly swayed by all the brilliance you emanated. Pulled towards your like an animal needing the warmth of the sun.

It didn't take much for the man to sign and agree with everything Kaz said and imposed. In fact, he suspected that if he had asked him to give him his bank password, the man would have been happy to do so.

"Can we go in the coffee shop now?” You commented as soon as the man left, still turning around to look at you as much as possible.

Kaz restrained the glaring urge to roll his eyes, but he had just landed a very lucrative business just and exclusively because you agreed to help. Even though you didn't gain anything from it. So, if he had to go with you to a goddamn coffee shop so he wouldn't feel like a petty profiteer, he would go to the goddamn coffee shop.

Kaz just walked towards the place, and the wide, summery smile you gave may have he missed a few heartbeats.

Stop it!

Once inside the damn store, you scanned the menu that hung on the wall.

“I never took this one.” You commented, pointing to what appeared to be a very sweet mix of drink. Something that involved ice cream and chocolate with something else.

It was not the kind of comment that had an answer, and Kaz was still engaged in the mission to stay away from you. But he thought that statement was just the reason why you wouldn't order that drink. But, just as you always threw any worldview Kaz had in the latrine, you asked for just that. His eyes were bloodshot with astonishment.

“Why are you going to order something you don't know if you like it?” He asked as soon as you got the drink and paid for it.

"How am I supposed to know if something is good if I never try it?” You said casually, both of you going out of the store. “Wanna try out?”

You held out for he the plastic cup that was covered by a lid that had a hole in the middle, where a fat, transparent straw came out. Kaz looked at you as if you had created a second head.

“Come on, you'll never know if you like it if you don't taste it.” The two of you stopped, you still holding the glass gently towards his mouth.

“No.” Kaz shook his head.

“Come ooon.” You insisted, a petulant and amusing smile plastered on your face.

"No."

You shook the glass, holding it out once more. This time, Kaz gave you a slightly annoyed look.

"You're not going to stop insisting until I take this thing, are you?"

You laughed, with a triumphant and friendly smile “I'm glad you know me so well”

Kaz rolled his eyes, snatching the glass from your hand and bringing the hellish straw to his mouth. Hell, he felt so stupid pulling that stupid drink through that straw. As soon as the sweet liquid invaded his tongue, an explosion of flavors flooded his palate, causing him to remain unresponsive for a moment.

"You liked it!" But just as he unveiled all of your lookes, you knew how to unveil all of his.

Kaz handed you the glass. “Absurdly sweet."

"You liked that I know."

You joked and, for a second, you had aroused he a desire to smile. A succinct curve in lips. With your sunny smiles and summer expressions, you looked like you were out of an enchanted forest inhabited by mystical creatures. Sun nymphs. Maybe Kaz would even have let himself go lightly if, when you took the glass back, your lips had not wrapped around the tip of the straw.

Exactly where his mouth was a second ago.

He pulse quickened so fast that it made the blood burn in his veins. It was impossible not to look down at delicate mouth, the subtle but destabilizing curvature in the center of your lower lip. Suddenly, he was out of breath, his body numb and his heart stopped beating for a second before accelerating to an alarming level.

Everything became hot, stuffy. The world spun away, out of focus, out of existence, leading he on a waltz unlike anything Kaz had ever felt before.

Kaz Brekker was the Bastard of the Barrel. Dirty hands and scammer. Someone trapped by his own body and traumas, unable to allow himself to enjoy human contact. But, hell, he was still a man. And in that moment, in that insane moment, he wanted to pretend, even for a few seconds, that what he wanted was within his reach.

Kaz thought he understood the desire: an attraction. He thought he knew what lust was: a wish that people felt. He had seen countless examples on his bar counter, drunk and chattering about what it was like to want a woman, to long for her. He thought he understood.

And he found that he didn't understand anything.

The desire was a hot and feverish whirlwind that shivered he from head to toe, with dizzying speed, and dragged everything towards perdition, below any intellect, any rationality. Rationally, he shouldn't have thought you were even more beautiful. But he did. He shouldn't feel his breath catch, but he did.

He felt as if he were walking on a narrow suspended board. One misstep and it would be the end of it. Hiding his disturbing thoughts, Kaz looked away from you.

He was ruined for the rest of his life.