#LISTEN NO ONE COULDA PREDICTED THE FIRST ONE

[ujuro]

I kinda wish I hadn’t managed to properly google what was wrong with my finger this time around because the knowledge that I’ve managed to give myself what is essentially the same minor staph infection on both of my pointer fingers within like four months is rather disheartening

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.55

Word Count: 2,067

Characters: Derek Hale, Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski, Rafael McCall, Noah Stilinski, Scott McCall, Jordan Parrish, Braeden, Liam Dunbar (mentioned), Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight TW: getting sick, small fluff

A/N: ---

Masterlist       Series Masterlist

“Where’s Braeden?” you ran into the hospital anxiously, looking around in a state of panic.

You saw Derek, running towards him as he put his hands on your shoulder.

“Where is she?” you asked again.

“She’s going to be okay. She’s in surgery right now and Melissa said that she’s going to make it,” he explained.

You let out a breath of relief, before running your fingers through your hair.

“What happened?” 

“I don't know yet. Me and Malia were looking for Satomi’s pack. They’re all dead. Braeden was about to die too, looks like I made it in time,” he replied.

After a long time of waiting, the two of you were finally led to her room, where she laid on the bed, resting.

“Do you know when she’s gonna wake up?” you turned to Melissa.

“No, I don't. But she needs rest.” she gave you a small smile before walking out of the room.

You rested your head on Derek’s shoulder as the two of you sat silently on the floor.

“Are you bleeding?” he asked softly.

Crap

You forgot about your earlier wounds as you frowned softly. You couldn’t even feel it.

“No,” you lied.

“Are you lying to me?” you felt him reach for your shirt as you slapped his hand away.

“Okay, fine. But, honestly, I can hardly feel it, like at all,” you sighed.

“Let me see how bad it is?” he asked softly.

You nodded, before lifting up your shirt, while your face dropped. There was barely a mark left.

You could see a confused look on Derek’s face, as well as on yours.

“I probably just over imagined it,” you shrugged.

You could feel yourself panicking slightly as you gave Derek a small smile.

“Yeah… maybe,” you knew he was getting suspicious too, while you tried to ignore it, focusing back on Braeden.

--- 

You put your phone in your pocket, standing in front of Lydia’s lake house as she opened the door.

“Hey,” you smiled softly, walking in beside her.

The rest of the pack was at Beacon Hills High, taking their PSATs. Lydia decided not to take it that year, which left the two of you to work together. Lydia and Stiles had cracked the last third of the Deadpool, leaving you a little worried.

You already knew who was going to be on it, but you suspected they were hiding something from you.

You followed her up silently, leading you into a nearly empty white room, with a box on the floor, labeled Meredith. You put your arm around her shoulder, pulling her in slightly.

She gave you a sad smile, before sitting on the floor in front of you, while you grabbed the box, opening it up.

---

“Lydia. What is it?” you could see a look on her face, as she sniffled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shrugged.

“Lydia,” you put a hand on her shoulder.

You saw her eyes watered instantly. She sat in front of an old record player, picking at it.

“The only other banshee I’ve ever met, and I killed her,” she whimpered.

You turned her head slightly to face you.

“Lydia… what happened was not your fault,” she scoffed, shaking her head.

“No, I’m serious. What happened to Meredith was terrible, but it wasn’t your fault,” you started.

“I was the one who basically drove her off the edge. I kept pushing and pushing her for a name. You can't tell me it wasn't my fault.”

You knew Lydia would never change her mind, as you let out a small sigh, wrapping your arms around her.

“That’s not all…” you could feel your head buzzing slightly as you took a deep breath, nodding.

She began to talk about how they cracked the first two parts of the Deadpool while you tried to focus on her.

“We tried someone who’s going to die, instead of someone who’s already dead. (Y/N), Derek was the password,” tears came to your eyes in an instant as you shook your head.

“No,” you said softly.

“We should've told you before, but,” she started.

“No,” you shook your head once more, standing up as you took a shaky breath.

Saying he was going to die was one thing, you already knew something was wrong. But, Lydia’s predictions were never wrong.

You ran your hair through your fingers, frustrated as you felt a wave of sickness hit you.

“(Y/N),” Lydia started.

“I just need the bathroom,” you pulled open the door, running across the hallway.

You closed the door, letting out a small cry as your tears rushed down your face.

You put your hand on the table, taking a deep breath. You could feel your stomach aching as you took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

Getting or feeling sick was something you never experienced before. Even as a kid, you never got sick. 

Your vision blurred slightly as you splashed some water on your face, trying to calm yourself down.

It’s gonna be okay 

You could hear your phone ringing in the distance as you poked your head up, seeing a call from Parrish. You took a few breaths before picking up.

“Hey, what’s up?” you answered.

“There’s something happening at the school,” he replied.

“What? W-What is it?” you asked.

“Is that (Y/N)?” you heard Noah talking in the background, before taking the phone.

“(Y/N), the entire school’s being sealed off right now. It’s some outbreak of some thing, Melissa called and said it was going to be more severe for Scott and Malia,” he explained.

“Oh my god,” you said softly, feeling panic in your chest.

“I need your help,” he said.

“Me and Lydia are on our way,” you hung up the call, running back to Lydia.

“Lydia! We need to get to Beacon Hills High, now,” you said.

She nodded her head, grabbing her purse before the two of you ran out of the house.

---

You picked up the call from Derek as the two of you drove in your car, rushing to the school.

“Yeah?” you answered.

“Braeden’s awake,” he said.

“Okay,” you replied.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“We’re on our way to the school. T-There’s some-” you started.

“I know. That virus is the one that killed Satomi’s pack. It’s going to kill Scott and Malia, maybe even Kira,” he explained.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head.

“What about everyone else,” you asked.

“They should be fine sooner or later,” he said.

“Well, what do we do about the rest of them?” you asked.

“I-I don’t know. We’re with Satomi right now to find a cure…” you heard his drift off while you frowned.

“Derek?” you asked.

“(Y/N), in the vault, there’s a rare type of mushrooms. They’re called Reishi mushroom, it can save-”

You heard a loud noise, like a gunshot, as you felt your heart jump.

What the hell was that?!

“Derek?!” you yelled frantically, before hearing the call drop.

“Oh my god,” you gasped softly, tears rushing to your eyes.

“(Y/N),” Lydia put her hand on your shoulder.

You could feel your heart aching as you took a shaky breath.

“We need to get to the school,” you sniffled.

“Maybe you should go to the hospital,” she started.

“No, we need to get to the school,” your voice broke as your grip on the steering wheel tightened, stepping on the gas harder.

---

“Sheriff, I need to get in there or S-Scott and Malia are gonna die,” you clenched your jaw, holding back all your tears and pain while you worried about Derek.

“I can’t let anyone in, (Y/N),” he shook his head.

You groaned softly, before Rafael walked to you.

“(Y/N),” he started.

“Agent, I really, don't have time to deal with you right now, so if you could just-” 

“I have an idea to get us both in, okay?” he said.

You frowned slightly, before nodding your head. You watched as he walked away from you, finding two of the hazmat suits left from the CDC. He motioned for you to come aside, before handing you one.

“You need to keep your head down,” he said.

“Pretty illegal for an FBI agent,” you muttered, starting to put the suit on.

“Well, since my son’s in danger, all bets are off,” he replied.

You nodded your head, following him into the school, before taking a shaky breath. Your mind kept thinking back to Derek, while you kept trying to ignore it.

You heard some voices, instantly recognizing Stiles as one as you tensed up. You looked to Rafael, who motioned for you to stay quiet, taking his gun out of his pocket.

The two of you walked into Coach’s office, hearing the voice.

“Where the hell are they? I need proof that they’re dead,” you saw a man with his gun towards Stiles’ head, Stiles looking pale and sick, reminding you of Void.

Rafael aimed at the man’s head, while you heard the gunshot echo, seeing the blood splatter on Stiles.

“Stiles,” you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

He buried his face in your arms before gasping.

“Scott and everyone else are in the vault,” he explained.

The two of you ran down the hallway, running to the basement to get to the vault.

“Scott!” you pounded on the door, yelling out for him.

“Scott! You need to open the door! Scott!” Stiles yelled.

You couldn't hear anything on the other end.

“Can’t you open the door somehow?” you could hear the fear in Stiles’ voice as you shook your head.

“Scott, listen to us. Y-You’re stronger than this virus. You need to fight it. Look, there’s a jar, it's on one of the top shelves, it has rare mushrooms in them. Scott, I need you to hear me and I need you to save yourself and Malia and Kira,” you closed your eyes, feeling your emotions getting the best of you.

“Scott, please hear us. You can do this,” Stiles begged.

You heard the door open as Scott gasped for air, falling onto you and Stiles.

“Oh my god,” he coughed softly, taking a deep breath.

“We’re okay,” he exhaled.

“C’mon,” you helped him up, while Stiles ran to Malia.

You noticed the broken jar on the floor, while Kira walked to the two of you.

“Malia…” you watched as she walked past the three of you coldly, not looking back.

“Stiles?” you asked.

“She found the list,” he said softly.

His eyes watered slightly as he looked up at you three.

“She knows she’s a Hale.”

---

You wrapped your arms around Derek tightly, before smacking his arm.

“You coulda called, you know?!” you scoffed.

“That hunger broke my phone. For what it's worth, everyone’s alive,” he replied.

He put his arm around your shoulder as the two of you walked into the loft, walking to your room.

“Yeah, for now,” you sighed.

“Well, focus on the now,” Derek said.

He crawled onto the bed while you began getting ready for bed. 

You heard your phone go off, while you frowned, looking at your texts.

You smiled softly, before turning off your phone.

“Who was it?” Derek asked.

“Liam. He got my number from Scott,” you explained, laying down next to him.

“According to Scott, you really baby Liam,” Derek shook his head.

You shrugged, looking up at him.

“He is a baby, he’s like 13 or something,” you started.

“He’s 14,” Derek corrected.

“Same thing.”

“Not really,” there was a small smile on your face as you rolled your eyes.

You laid back in his arms before you heard knocking at the front door.

“People really shouldn't be doing that at night,” you groaned.

“Here, I'll get it,” Derek began to get up before you shook your head.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll get it. It's probably Scott or Stiles or Lydia,” you replied.

You go to out of bed, forcing yourself to walk to the door as you slid it open, taking by shock to see Stiles standing in front of you. He looked like he had been crying.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” you asked softly, frowning as you pulled him into the loft.

“Can I talk to you?” his voice broke as you felt your heart ache slightly.

You nodded your head, walking him towards the couches.

[starlocked01]

Look Alive, Sunshine

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 7- Music WC: 1.8K Summary: Remus picks Virgil up from his dorm in the middle of the night to combat an old fear. Content Warning: Swearing, Panicking, references to past suicidal thoughts

@dukexietyweek

A/N: This is actually in the same universe as When Can I See You Again? which is the first dukexiety story I wrote featuring Soul mark timers, lots of miscommunication and drama, and fun. And fight club. If you've liked this week's oneshots, maybe give WCISYA? a try ^_^ Thank you everyone for reading along and sharing this week <3

Despite Remus' progress with Dr. B. and despite over a thousand nights with no incidents, Virgil still could not shake his fear of the Xs. He hadn’t seen them in years, but some nights Virgil stayed up to watch his soul mark countdown the seconds until Remus could reassure him he'd lost sleep for no reason.

Most of the nights when he stayed up watching with growing anxiety, Virgil didn't even try to text Remus. His boyfriend needed the sleep and would just worry when he woke up until Virgil finally rolled out of bed and answered his reassurances. Tonight was too much. Tonight, not even the steady passage of time promising he'd see his soulmate the next day was enough to allay thoughts of horrific unforeseen accidents.

Tonight Virgil texted his soulmate at quarter to two am and watched as the numbers changed without warning.

00:05:17

Five minutes. Virgil gulped and couldn't help but feel like he'd fucked up. He glanced at his phone several times, bewildered by the lack of an answering text, but mostly watched his wrist counting down.

At about the two-minute mark he finally realized he should probably get dressed and grabbed a pair of skinny jeans to struggle into. He struck his foot on the corner of the bed and bit his lip hard to avoid waking up his roommate. Virgil quickly shrugged on his hoodie and shoes before checking his wrist again.

00:00:10

He laughed to himself at the near deja vu feeling, walking over to the window to watch for Remus’ car in the parking lot.

To his surprise, there was a knock at the dorm door instead. Virgil jumped and rushed over to the door, cracking it open just in time to glimpse his soulmate grinning out in the hallway.

"Remus! What are you doing here?" Virgil asked in a hissing whisper, sliding out into the hallway and shutting the door as quietly as possible, "do you know what time it is?"

"Uh yeah, babe. 2 am. You're the one who sent a distress signal, what was I supposed to do?" Remus answered at his normal, too-loud volume, wrapping Virgil in a tight hug before the smaller man could answer or object.

"You coulda just told me you were alright," Virgil grumbled, hugging his soulmate back tighter anyway, "do I want to know how you got in?"

"The desk worker recognized me and let me in. Don't worry, I would only break in if mildly inconvenienced," Remus grinned, starting to pull Virgil with him down the hall, "so why are you up so late? You weren't waiting for me to croak, were you?"

Virgil started to respond but stopped before he got a syllable out. That was what he was technically doing, even if he dreaded that very thing more than anything. "I- don't make it sound like I would ever want that! I just… got worried."

Remus tugged Virgil closer to his side, "I'm okay. And I'm not going anywhere, worrywart." He waved briefly at the night guard and ushered Virgil outside, "c'mon. We're gonna fix this."

"How? You're okay tonight but what about tomorrow? How do I know you're going to be okay every night? What if-" Virgil gulped, not wanting to vocalize his worst fear.

Remus stopped just outside the door and turned to Virgil, "come on, Virgie. I always call when it's a bad day. And I haven't had one in a while."

"Yeah, but what if-"

"If I had a bad day, I'd call. C'mon. We've gotta get your mind off this," Remus murmured, pulling Virgil towards his car.

Virgil huffed but followed Remus easily enough, sliding into the passenger's seat as Remus scanned through a pile of CD cases.

“Oh my god, you still have those?” Virgil asked, a bit surprised to see his old emo collection.

“Of course I do. One of the best your-birthday presents I’ve ever gotten,” Remus giggled and picked the album he’d been looking for, “I get that you get scared. When I die you can listen to The Black Parade and mourn me, but tonight we are gonna Look Alive, Sunshine.” Remus started the car and fed the CD to the center console before backing out of the spot and zooming out of the parking lot.

Virgil hummed happily, giggling as Remus recited the initial traffic report along with Dr. Death-Defying, “I love Danger Days. Remember how you convinced the DJ at Prom to play this song?”

“How could I not? He only did it because of your pouty little baby face back then,” Remus teased, earning himself a smack on the shoulder, “what? He certainly wasn’t doing me any favors.”

“You’re an ass,” Virgil chuckled.

“I’m your ass,” Remus corrected him, headbanging along as he drove.

“So where are we headed, ass of mine?” Virgil asked just over the music, watching as streetlights and neon signs advertising closed stores flashed by.

“Nowhere special,” Remus replied carefully, pretty quickly turning into an empty parking lot and pulling into a space as far from any lights as he can.

“Yeah.. not kidding about that... Is this a bookstore?”

“Bookstore parking lot.”

“Okay, why a bookstore parking lot?”

Remus didn’t answer, just unbuckled and tried to squeeze between the front seats of the car to the back. Virgil watched in amusement until Remus managed to push himself through and got settled in the back.

“C’mon. You do this for me all the time, now it’s your turn.”

Virgil laughed and turned the key to the battery-only position in the ignition and locked the car doors before following Remus, sliding back to the back seat a touch more nimbly. He settled into Remus’ lap and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” he murmured, settling in as Remus wrapped his arms around him and started singing along with the music.

“If that's the best that I could be? Then I'd be another memory. Can I be the only hope for you? Because you're the only hope for me,” Remus sang softly to Virgil, running fingers through his hair.

Virgil sniffed and sang the rest of the verse, “And if we can't find where we belong we'll have to make it on our own. Face all the pain and take it on because the only hope for me is you alone,” he tried to relax and let Remus’ presence reassure him that neither of them was going anywhere without the other, “is it weird to say I wish you were around more often?”

Remus stopped humming along with the music to hug Virgil tighter, “not weird at all, V. You’ll graduate soon and we can move in together. Then you’ll really be sick of me.” he smiled and kissed Virgil’s hair, “we’re so close to forever, love.”

Virgil sighed and began to sing along again a few songs later, “we can leave this world, leave it all behind. We can steal this car if your folks don't mind. We can live forever if you've got the time,” he buried his face in Remus’ chest, almost wishing they could just start driving tonight and never looking back.

“My pretty little heart attack in black hair dye,” Remus giggled, “you gotta finish school first so I can just kick Roman and Remy out.”

Virgil laughed at that, “as if you’d ever kick your brother out.”

“Easier done than said. I’ve lived with that asshole for far too long already,” Remus replied pointedly, “you know, we can work out transportation if you would perhaps consider moving off campus next semester.”

Virgil sat there silent in consideration. The only thing really stopping him from agreeing was the wall of anxieties over moving in with his boyfriend and living off-campus and paying rent and having to find a job in between homework and classes. It was a lot to figure out, not even considering the implications of actually moving in with his boyfriend. What if Remus did something crazy like suggesting they get married? What if everything changed and he didn’t like it or get used to it? What if nothing changed and he still woke up at 2 in the morning from dreams of Xs despite falling asleep in Remus’ arms? What if-

“Virgil- where’s your head, Stormcloud?” Virgil’s thoughts were interrupted by the question and a soft steady tapping on the back of his neck.

Virgil sighed and shook his head, “sorry. It got away from me. I kinda want this moment to last forever. It’s safe and predictable.”

“An abandoned parking lot is not life, sweetheart. Trust me, I love how safe this is. I love holding you and knowing nothing can happen to you while we’re here. But life doesn’t happen in safety. We can face it together, we always will. But we do have to go out and face it eventually,” Remus spoke softly, letting his voice mingle with the music.

“You’re here now. You’re here and real and not going anywhere. That should be enough. Why isn’t it enough?” Virgil asked in a small voice.

“Because you care. Your love isn’t limited to this moment,” Remus laughed softly, “your love has saved me before, so don’t you dare try to limit it now.”

“I- oh wow, Rem, I am so sorry,” Virgil caught himself and sighed, “I think I get it now.”

“Oh? Figure something out?” Remus asked quietly, continuing to tap on Virgil to the beat.

“I haven’t been trusting your love. I’m an asshole,” Virgil shook his head, “ of course I won’t wake up and find Xs. You love me. I’m so dumb for not trusting that because of course you’re not going anywhere.”

Remus chuckled, “now you’re getting it, V. I know you can’t help worrying, but you’ll at least let me prove it when the worries get too much?”

Virgil sat up carefully, “I didn’t want to bother you with it before. Goodness knows we both need the sleep, but I think next time, I’ll just reach out like tonight.”

Remus smiled and pulled Virgil back down, “you said it yourself. We need sleep. So sleep, mister. We’re not going anywhere until morning.”

Virgil laughed and feebly tried to push away, “nooo not in the car! At least let's go find a bed.”

“Aww but that’s no fun… unless..”

“Sleep. It’s nearly 3 am. We are gonna find a bed, either mine or yours, and go to sleep.”

“Boo,” Remus pouted but reached to unlock the car, not trusting his ability to climb back upfront.

“Love you too, boo,” Virgil grinned and leaned down to kiss Remus properly, quickly getting lost in the contact. Remus pulled him close, willing to spend the rest of the night that way until the second to last track of the album began and his speakers started blaring a distorted version of the American anthem. They broke apart, laughing together at the awkward background music. Then they managed to kiss the whole way through Vampire Money before climbing out of the back seat and back upfront.

“Alright. Let’s go home. Maybe I can convince you to make it home better from there,” Remus grinned and started up the car again, driving off towards the apartment as the CD restarted the album from the beginning.

[fandomout]

Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference - Making up after he left you stranded Part 3

Hope you enjoy! Angst/Fluff.

Part 1  Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference- He leaves you stranded (Gender Neutral Reader)

Part 2  Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference - After he left you stranded (Gender Neutral Reader) Part 2

"Talk." Hearing those words, Dean straightened his posture. He had a sliver of hope until his head went fuzzy. His mind was blank on what to say. He’d only been worrying about you since he woke. 

“Wow. I didn’t expect you to let me...I’m sorry? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have driven off like that. Something could have happened. I should have cared.”

“Woulda coulda shoulda.” You snapped at him. 

“I know I was wrong okay? You’ve punished me with silence, and-and...” He lost place of what to say.

“You lasted what ten minutes of silence? Was it really that hard? The rest of the time you just didn’t know where I was. I’d hardly consider you were punished enough.” 

“I was punished! I was thinking something happened to you! Thinking you were dead!” 

“Yeah. Well, let's be honest. The only concern there is that you would blame yourself because you left me!”

“How can you-”

“What else am I supposed to think?!” You feel the heavy feeling spreading through your whole body. As it reaches your head and trickles towards your eyes, you predict the welling of tears. Not wanting him to see you. You muster the last bit of strength in your front to say, “Out.”

“Y/N-”

“Out!” You wheeze. A few tears trickle. You wipe them away quickly. “Please…” Dean looks down defeated and leaves their room not before snatching their key. After closing the door he huffs out in anger and punches and kicks at the wind. He walks back into his room to see Sam just on his computer as usual. 

“How’d it go?” Sam asked.

Dean makes an ugly face and mimics Sam, “How’d it go?” He slumps down in a chair across from him, and he kicks at the other chair next to him.

Sam blinks exaggeratingly blank, “Okay then.”

“Sam, what do I do?” Dean crosses his arms, lays his arms on the table, and leans his head inside of them and groans.

“Give them time?”

“No. It’ll only allow them to get angrier with me. I meant what I did was really shitty. I have to do it today.”

“You do that. I think you should at least give it a day, at least. They don’t need you to make them feel worse. They’re sick, Dean. They’ll be more sensitive.” Sam reaches for one of his books to look through, but Dean slams his book down on the table. Sam was ready to get upset when he saw Dean’s sad expression followed by the words, “Help me.”

“Dean, I can’t. They need it to come from you.”

“Sammy, I am asking you for advice. You are in touch with your feelings not to mention they’re one of your best friends.”

“You know just because your dating doesn't mean you're not friends.” 

“It’s just different, and I really can’t do this on my own.”

“Just speak from the heart. Practice what you're gonna say?”

“You think if I wrote it down and read it. It could work.”

“Maybe.” Dean searches for pen and paper, and he starts trying to write anything he can think of down. After a minute of trying, he asks Sam, “Will you go check on them? They may not want to see me, but someone should be there.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered. I was gonna bring them some soup and tea. I’m picking up the soup soon.”

“Thank you.” 

“Not doing it for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” 

Sam texted you to open the door as he didn’t want to drop any of the hot items in his possession. You opened the door with a smile.

“Whatcha got there?” You asked.

“Food. Tea. I ended up getting soda too. I forgot what works best.”

“Got any candy?” He snickers at you and responds, “No. You're probably not supposed to have it.” You groaned at him before walking up to the food and tasted it a little cautiously, for it was hot. You let out a satisfying ,”Ah” sound.

“Good?” 

“Yeah. It-” Your stomach growls loudly.

“Have you not eaten all day?”

“No. I haven’t felt like it.”

“Is it just because your sick or is it also...you know De-”

“Yes. Now, best friend code. Let's not talk about it. okay?”

“Alright.” You take out the book you and Sam have been reading together, and you look over to see him taking out his copy too. 

“What exactly have you been doing all day?”

“Pretty much just sleep and watch tv.” You set down all the food and drinks as best you can on the nightstand, and Sam sits down next to you with a salad in his hand. You both eat while you two read. After about an hour, you say through a stuffy nose, “I’ve had enough reading for now.” You started to shiver and shudder slightly with your eyes drooping. 

“Cold?”

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna head to sleep. Hopefully, being unconscious will shield me from the cold and sickness.” You give him a hug and thank him.  “Of course...Y/N, I don’t have to go. If you're that cold, come on.” He opened up his arms and motioned for you to get closer.”

“Thank you.” You scoot over and get comfortable in his arms. Suddenly, he asks, “Can I stop you from going for more investigating tomorrow?”

“Nope unless my body stops me.”

“But, if I do it,  you’d get upset. Hypocrite.” You laugh a little bit, but it beelines into a sob. You cover your face with your hands and barley mutter, “Don’t look at me,” through hiccups. He reaches forward and brings you into his chest. You hold onto him and just let it all out. You both stay that way until you start to calm down and drift to sleep. When Sam was sure you were out, he let his eyes close and his consciousness go out. 

In the morning, Sam stirs awake, and he looks to see you still sleeping soundly in his arms. He carefully moves himself from you and heads out towards his room. He walks in to see Dean ready to go. Dean gives him a once over and simply states, “You slept in bed with them.”

“Yeah. They were all cold. Needed someone. You know how close we are. You know it’s not like that…”

“I know…Just makes me wonder how they didn’t just up and choose to be with you.”

“Dean, we’re friends that-”

“We should get going soon.” As they get to impala, you show up ready. You still look a little sick, but you look and feel better. Dean protests you coming, but you weren't going to listen to him. You pulled questions and researched like any other case. By nightfall, you guys had successfully killed a house full of ghosts. Having finished, Dean kept trying to pick up the courage to talk to you, but your cold front intimidated him. Dean insisted he’d head out for a bit, and he dropped off Sam and you before driving off. Sam and you went to your separate rooms. You were watching tv and just still not in the mood to do much of anything. Not eat, not sleep, not drink. You were feeling chills creep on your again, and cover yourself with your thick blanket. Your phone beeps, and it ignites to you that Sam has texted you, Open the door. You walk over to the door expectant since you had a great time last night; however, you open the door to see Dean with bags full of goods. You take a reluctant look at his smile as it weakens your knees composure from it’s brightness. Then, your memory flashes to the pain he caused, and you find it in yourself to slam the door on him. You're walking back toward your bed when you hear the door unlock. You turn towards the door to see Dean walking in with your key in hand. He just let's himself in and closes the door. 

“That’s where my other key went.” You state bitterly.

“Yeah.” He says awkwardly.

“Are you serious?!” You say.

“Look, hear me out. I’ve come prepared for it all. I know I fudged it before, but please give me another chance. I want you to know that I know I was wrong. I should be sorry….I am. I bought stuff for you, I’m sure you’ll want it.” You look at the bag with intrigue. ”You can have them whether you forgive me or not. You can have them whether you hear me out or not. I just hope you give me another chance. Come on, you know I always do better come the second time around.” He nudged your hip with his. You look at him uninspired; however, you took the bags from his hands carefully and put them on the counter. You took out one of the bags of candy and went back over to the bed to wrap the covers around your freezing yet hot body. You looked over to him as he was unsure of what to do with himself. You’d admit he was doing better than last time. His unsure expression was also kinda cute, which didn’t hurt. 

“You may proceed.” He walked over to the bed and just stood there, but he wore a smile on his face. In a light tone, he says, "First off. Thank you, baby. I hate the silent treatment. Not being able to talk to you is-”

“Next.” Dean felt his patience wearing thin from the worry that hadn’t been able to be expressed before. He throws his hands up in defense for both of them. 

"Alright. Alright. I-I-I think I know what to say. I had it all in here.” He reaches into his pocket frantically, but his face shoots into alarm. He pulls out empty pockets. “Lost my notes, but it’s still in here.” He points to his head. He lets out a breath to try and is about to speak, but no words leave his lips. He smiles sheepishly. He lets out a breathy laugh. “Emphasis on had. But! But…still here goes... Being drunk was not a good choice. Even with all the thought I put into our night, it didn't work out. You were right to be upset for how I acted...just know no matter who I've been with, you're the only one that matters.” You scoff at him. He grimaces by bearing his teeth into this weird smile, but he goes on to say, “I know it contradicts with what I did last night. I was angry and sad...no excuse to leave you. I know that. I was worried sick. If we didn't find you by the end of day, I would have blown chunks just all-'' Knowing he’s starting to ramble, he smiles shyly until he saw an unimpressed expression on your face. ”Right. Throw up is not important. Got it. No need to go into detail. Okay. You were right to want it to be special. You were even-even-even right about the part about being insecure..." The last part caught you attention. Your resolve softening. He noticed it and sat down cautiously with some distance between you two. "I-you know my track recorded dating and sexual records too. I said some stuff last night to throw it in your face."

"I think I noticed." He sees the miniscule quirk of a possible smile and takes it as a green light. He was getting somewhere, and he had to move while they didn't notice. He felt you were too smart to just accept things simply, so he moved up and took your hand.

"Despite how bad the words were-me using them at the time like that, they are technically true. So, you being one of the most important people to me and loving you and other love crap, it hurt that you rejected me like that. You're pretty good with words. I'm not really. Skin to skin affection was like my plane field. The fact that you didn't want me, made me wonder what I'd done wrong. What could I do-I didn't want to lose you...hell if I couldn't do well in what I can do in this relationship, I’d have nothing to give you. You'll realize you should be asking yourself why am I with this sucker? and...and you'll go..." He uses his other hand to rub his face. “I’m sorry...I’m really sorry for all of it…” You use your right arm to reach forward and wrap your arm as best you can around his waist. 

"Dean..." With teary eyes, his jaw clenched in trying to keep it together. Softly, almost brokenly, he utters, "I’m sorry, baby." You let out a sigh at the tension of it all. Then, you sit up straighter and brush your thumbs up and down on his face as you say, “I-We-You should tell me that kind of stuff more, so it doesn’t blow up into things like this.” He just nods shamefully at you. “Dean...don’t think so low of yourself. If you're low to yourself, I am too-Then our relationship will actually be on the rocks. You shouldn't-" His head snaps up and he confusingly asks, "Wait, we're not breaking up?"

"No sil-"  Dean takes a big scoot forward, grabs, you and hugs you tightly. He pulls back a bit to give you kisses all over his face. With a loud, "Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!” he smiles, and you can only respond with a laugh in between the words, “Stop it.”

“I can't. I'm just happy I haven't lost you.” He goes in for another kissing attack, but you cover his mouth with your hand. A warmth returning in your stomach, and a less weighted down heart. You smile at him widely. He speaks , which gets muffled by your hand, but you swear you hear him say, “Are we getting kinky?” He winked at you. You laughed and slapped his mouth playfully, and it earned you a “Oh!” exclaimed from him. You could feel the smile under your hand. 

“No more kisses, you'll get sick.” He removes your hand from his mouth, which you allow. He shrugs and says, “I don't care.”

“I do...Now,“ You reach forward within his right hug and caress both sides of his face. "Back to what I was saying. Do not question my love for you. Your greatness outweigh the bad. You're so sweet. We both have insecurities but it's a matter of being honest about it and dealing with it together. Cleary, I still love you. That being said, I accept your apology. But-” You put a finger to his chest. ”you ever pull shit like that again-"

"Yeah. Yeah. I don't need the warning. Now, let's get to work on getting you better.”

“You’re already making me feel better.” You pinched all of your fingers together and put it to his mouth.

“Ya weirdo.”

“I can’t kiss you, but want to. This should hold us both off.”

“I don’t think so. I won’t get sick.”

“Dean-”

“If I do, my s/o will take care of me.”

“Ugh! I don’t look forward to that. You're a stubborn baby when you're sick.”

“Hey!...” He contemplates before saying, “Fair enough.” 

“That’s what I thought.”

“Can't I just get one?” 

“You already got a few freebies a second ago.”

“What can I say I can’t get enough of you.” He leaned in close and wiggled his eyebrows at you playfully. You laughed out. However, you started to feel weak to resistance. It wasn’t the attempt of sex appeal from him, but it was when he started laughing. His beautiful smirk and smile drew you in, and you launched your body into his, which made him fall back onto the bed. Your lips met his and kissed back passionately. He layed out the candy and junk food he knew you liked. He sat next to you eating happily, which made you brighten up too. You scrolled through the channels and landed on the cars movie. Dean lifts his eyebrow at you. “You’re watching this because?”

“It’s actually a decent movie. I think you’d like it.”

“Just because of cars? I’d hope I’m more than that.” You chuckle and nod. “You want to watch it?”

“Yes please. I’m curious to see how you’ll react.” He nods, and you both lay on the foot of the bed on your stomachs as you watch. He lies close to you and lays his arm on your back tugging you close to him. He smiles, laughs, and tears up as you watch the movie. He looks like a kid. You enjoy watching him more than the movie. In peace, you fall to slumber. Having finished the movie, he looks over to you sleeping soundly. He turns off the tv, and he leans in close wrapping one leg around yours, and he frames your face with his hands. He gently glides his rough hand across your soft features for a minute or so. Then, he gives you one kiss on forehead before he moves his head close to meet foreheads. He keeps watching you. He finds himself softly saying, “I love you” before nuzzling closer and finding sleep with you.

Hope your day got better!

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 76: Interlocking Horns

Chapters: 76/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Culture Clash Imminent, Protective Dad

Summary:  You and your father discuss your living situation, and you mull over your thoughts on Buridag.

Loki was agitated when he lay beside you that night. You'd spent most of the evening showing Tara and your father around to all the places you spent your time. The library, the training grounds, the courtyards, the banquet halls, the common rooms, and even the throne room, which was empty at the time. Over dinner, you told sanitized versions of your adventures; the battle with the Huldra and the Frost Giant, The magical illusion lessons, and the magic you were also capable of, how you had exploded a plate, and met the legendary Sleipnir, whom Tara demanded to see as soon as possible. You showed them your knife, and told them about your armor, and your glorious helmet.

Your father was not terribly impressed by the food. “Not enough seasonings.” he declared, and you told him about the time you'd pranked Loki by putting chili pepper in his meal. He got a good laugh out of your description of the composed prince turning purple, and trying to pretend to all onlookers that everything was just fine.

“Hope he didn't get mad at you.” Tara said.

“Nah. The thing about Loki is that he actually appreciates it when you get the best of him. He likes getting legitimately got. I get the feeling he had to deal with a lot of sycophants growing up, while at the same time being overshadowed in everything he did. Loki can sense lies, did you know that? He can just tell when you're lying. Imagine growing up surrounded by people who don't even like you, but will constantly lie to your face about it. And keep doing it even after they know you can tell they're lying. And they're still doing it! It's wild! Some of these aristocrats are stupidly bigoted, and they keep trying to fool Thor or Loki into making laws that exclude humans from things, but both of them have personal reasons not to do that, as well as political reasons. I mean, there's seven billion of us, we're not gonna be excluded from anything on this planet, and it's ludicrous to even try. But I guess they've been at this for so long, that they can't even think of doing things any differently.

That's part of where I come in. Loki says I represent an inevitability. That humans like us will come to be a part of Asgard, just like the Vanir and Alfar did before us. Some of these nobles want to put that off as long as possible, but I think Loki and Thor are right; better get that integration started early.”

“Then why is there only you?” your father pointed out, “Why not integrate more humans in a group? Why not those people in the weird lodges outside the city?”

“Couple reasons.” you said, “first off, I think they wanted to make sure humans and Asgardians could be culturally compatible. Like, that we could stand to live with one another.”

“Yeah, saw some of that cultural compatibility just a little while ago.” your father grumbled.

“We used to do stuff like that too, you know. And until recently, too. I think there's still some places that do dowries and such, just not us. But if you think about it, Asgardians live to be thousands of years old, and they used to visit Earth a lot. There was cultural exchange for sure. It's just that we change and evolve culturally at the speed of light compared to them. He really should have asked me about it though, I coulda told him it didn't work that way. He does love surprises, and he wants to preserve his culture, but we could have at least discussed it.”

“You discuss things with him? And he listens?”

“Sometimes. That's a part of my job too; advising, on human matters especially. That's why he should have asked, but I think he just really wanted to impress you.”

Your father rolled his eyes. You sighed. This was going to be difficult.

“Dad, this is so important. Doing this for me is unprecedented. I know it doesn't look like it, but we've been working hard, and dealing with some tough situations, but we've come through them all, and kept going. He's proud of me, I'm proud of me, and I am okay with my life here. I'm happy with it even. I miss you, and I know you miss me, but I like my work here.”

“You've almost died three times! In one year! Three times! Keeping you alive is the most basic possible thing, and he's almost failed three times!” he exclaimed.

“His only fault is not seeing the future, then!” You exclaimed back. “Who could predict that a crazy man would come all the way out here to try and assassinate literally anyone he saw? Who could expect that one of their own people would be so monumentally stupid as to hit me right in front of him? Why would anyone ever think that there were giants sleeping under our feet for a thousand years? How could anyone plan for any of that?”

“You're starting to talk like them, you know.” Tara pointed out. “You're picking up the accent. Your vocabulary's changed.”

“I've been studying a lot. I hadn't noticed the accent though. Is it very obvious?”

“Eh, it's no big deal. If you'd just moved here on your own, you'd probably sound kinda Icelandic anyway. I just think it's cute, you sounding like all these high-falutin', fancy alien folks.”

You wanted to thank her. For years and years, when you and your father had started arguing, she would brazenly interrupt with something completely off topic, and completely derail the dispute. Your father was as passionate an individual as you were, which was probably where you got it in the first place, but Tara had always known when to interject.

“The point is,” you said, much more calmly, “is that the world has gotten weird. And since I've been studying, I've been finding out that it was weird in the past too. We've just been coasting by on a short period of relative calm, but it's not going to last forever. In fact, it's over. There is an entire alien species  living on Earth now. Nobody has to like them, but they are here. Loki can't demand forgiveness, and he's told me he's prepared to accept that there may be people who never accept him, no matter what he does. But he is doing things. He's doing good for his people; he knows how to do that. He's trying to do his best by me, and I'm helping him to know how to do that. I clearly need to communicate with him a bit more about that. He doesn't have to do any of this, but he chose to. From the beginning, he chose to do this. I mean, don't get me wrong, he sucked at it in the beginning; he had no idea what he was doing.  He was kind of an overbearing creep, and when I got hurt the first time, I swear, he was inches away from locking me away in a closet somewhere so no one else could hurt me.”

Your father raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he totally freaked out. I had to convince him that there was no way he could protect me from everything, but he sure wanted to. I wasn't gonna let that happen though. Maybe I can't leave, but I haven't let this place become a prison either.”

“Baby girl, I'm proud of you, don't ever think I'm not, but a father really never cares for a man who takes his daughter away.” your father said, “I don't think he deserves your defense. But you seem happy, and that's what I'm supposed to care most about right? I'm not gonna be his friend, but I'm not gonna cause trouble while I'm here, for your sake, and also because I gotta represent humanity, right? I love you, and I'm not trying to ride your case, I just don't like that guy. I'm not as forgiving as you are. But I'm not gonna get into a public fight with him or anything.”

“Thanks. And hey, I'm not gonna demand that you be friends with all my friends, I just have a really big day looming over me, and I'm already stressed. But, like, if you have any questions, now is probably the best time.”

“Oh, I got a few!” Tara said. “What actually is wrong with you?”

“Uh, loaded question.”

“No, no. I mean, yeah, but no. I mean, you said these guys were taking care of your medical problems, but you never actually said what they were. Have they figured out what's going on?”

“Ehhh, kinda. It's not exactly a medical problem. It's this.” You held out your hand, showing the mark. “You know how we couldn't figure out what caused this? It's magical in nature.”

“You told me you got drunk and got a tattoo!” your father accused.

“What was I supposed to say? I didn't know what had happened at the time! I didn't even know it was Loki I had grabbed, I didn't find that out until later. Tara saw: I took his hand to get his attention, and this shape burned into my palm. It did the same to him, I found out. It made us both sick. But when we're close together, we heal. Even when I got hurt, being close heals me faster. This is also what woke up my magic. It was always there, but this was what made it accessible. The whole thing is just magic. The only thing we don't really know is why it happened.”

“Magic. It's so weird.” your father said. “It just doesn't make any sense. What is magic? How do you do it?”

“It's a kind of energy manipulation. Like electricity or solar power, but it's less generalized. Like, some things are actual spells that always work the same way, but I haven't learned much of that yet. Gotta get my specific magic under control first. I'm getting pretty good at it. I do it by...well, it feels a certain way. So I concentrate on feeling like that...”

A bowl of apples disappeared from the end of the table, and reappeared in your hands. Both Tara and your father leaned away in surprise as you set the bowl back on the table.

“I move things from one place to another. I don't know the upper limit on size or distance yet. Maybe someday I will move mountains.”

“Does that scare you?” your father asked. “All this magic stuff?”

“Sometimes. It's so strange to think that it's me doing this, and not some woman in a book, or a movie. That it's really real. Even after everything that's happened over the past few years, it's still hard to really understand that all this is real. That every single person you've seen here is hundreds of years older than you, and was born light years away, in space, on a whole other world. That they have millions of years of history that I'm learning about. Some of these people remember a time before the language we are speaking even existed.”

“That's freaky.” Tara said.

“Don't I know it. But somehow, they manage to live in the moment in a way I find kinda enviable. They're looking to the future, but they aren't worried about it like I used to be. It's so liberating not to have to worry about that. About rent, or healthcare, or who's gonna take care of me when I get old, or if I'm even gonna get old. All of that has been lifted off of me, and I'm free to study and learn, and be something unique, and I actually really like it.”

“I'm glad for you.” Tara said. “So who's your tailor?”

You giggled. “I'm super fashionable, for someone a thousand years ago, aren't I? This isn't actually Asgardian fashion, exactly. It's more of a fusion. Isn't it fancy?”

“It's freakin' gorgeous. Is it some kind of uniform?”

“It didn't start out that way, but it sorta became that. The seamstresses hadn't visited Earth in like, a thousand years, so all the illustrations and memories they had were from then or before. So at first they thought that must be how I was supposed to be dressed, and then it just became my signature. It's really comfy, and pretty, and most importantly, it's warm. I mean, I know the place is called Iceland, but I was still surprised at how cold it gets. If you want, I bet I could get you some.”

Tara went to bed happy, and your father went to bed grumpy, but quiet. Then you went to bed, and Loki slunk under the thick blankets with you, holding you uneasily.

He got like this occasionally, cradling you as if he feared you would disappear in the night. It wasn't any real surprise, when you thought about some of the things he'd been through, the abandonment, the loss. You knew he wasn't, and would never be perfect, but you were still prepared to defend him to all comers. You weren't going to vanish from his arms, but you'd probably have to prove it every night. You could do that. You were more than willing to; there hadn't been another man in your life that had made you feel so safe and comfortable when sleeping, and you wanted to keep that feeling.

Tomorrow was the first day of Buridag festivities. Loki said it would start out with a parade that would lead to the site of the new courthouse. There would be traditional poetry and song, and everyone would perform the building task that had been assigned to them weeks ago. Then there would be the First Feast; a meal composed of worker's foods, prettied up for the nobles palettes. You'd seen the menu; it was grain salads and porridges, hearty soups and rustic breads with eggs, jams, young cheeses, winter vegetables, dried fruit, and herbs and spices in approximation with traditional Asgardian flavors. It was a reminder that, in Buri's day, Asgard's prosperity had not been assured, and many of the working class had to make do with rougher fare. Supposedly, the First Feast was meant to rebuke those who took workers for granted, and remind everyone whose hands had built their world.

Personally you thought that was a little patronizing, but you also didn't come from a monarchical culture. Perhaps this was something like an Asgardian Saturnalia, a festival of transformation. A celebration of something being built from nothing, Asgard being built by Asgardian hands.

And yours. Loki and Thor would be laying the foundations and blessing them with some of their more ephemeral power, the thing that awoke the primordial fear in you, made you instinctively cower and search for a tree to hide in when Loki became truly angry. The power that was beyond magic, that reached into the divine.

You, however, had been assigned a brick. It was a decorative brick, that would line a window, and it lay in a stack of other window-bricks at the site. Just one piece of a huge community project. You rather liked that. You knew for sure that the aristocracy did not engage with the common Asgardian nearly often enough before the tragedy of Ragnarok, but now both Loki and Thor went out among their people often, nobles and commoners mingled every day, and the community was becoming less and less divided. There were people who resisted that, of course. People who wanted to claw back every ounce of their perceived power, who tried to pass deliberately discriminatory legislation, people who simply hadn't yet come to accept that their lives had changed.

You were change. Loki was very approving about it. You represented the New, the Necessary Change, the Social Upheaval that led to a Bright Future. You couldn't help but wonder if that was too big for you to carry all by yourself. On the one hand, you weren't exactly alone; Loki was beside you all the way, Andsvarr, Saldis and the Valkyries supported you, even down to the twins. Saga, and even the strange Lofn approved of you.

On the other hand, your father was right; you were still the only human who actually lived here. The first and only human with Asgardian citizenship. A trial run, essentially alone, to see if you, as a stand-in for all humankind, could make it. It was heavy.

But you were doing it. In a little less than a year, you had learned a great deal of Asgardian history and law, had helped actual royalty with things like resource management and policy reform, learned knifework, learned actual magic! You had met several of Earth's greatest heroes, were going to be titled, were becoming a liaison between Asgard and the human settlements growing next door. You had learned some Asgardian, become a prince's lover, and even learned how to play a drum. You yourself were becoming something new. Embodying the Necessary Change.

And maybe that was what you had needed in the first place. For so long, it seemed like you had been trying to let go of an old self, let go of everything you'd gone through. Shed your old skin and emerge, clean and soft into the light of a new day. And so you were. You just hadn't realized that once you started, it would happen again and again, skin after skin, quivering and raw. But you felt new. Despite the pressure, you felt new.

[angelsfalling16]

Life Would Be Better With You

Read on ao3

Summary: Simon and Baz get trapped together in one of the hidden rooms in Watford, which forces them to work through some feelings that they have both been denying for years.

Word Count: 3987

A/N: This fic is for @captain-aralias who was one of the winners of my fic giveaway. I hope you like it! :)

***

Simon

Baz is up to something. I’m certain of it.

First, he was gone for the first two months of school, refusing to give me any explanation for why that is. And now he’s creeping around the school, clearly planning to do something horrible.

I am apparently the only one who cares about what he might be up to, so I have taken it upon myself once again to follow him and try to figure out what it is and then stop him.

It’s been a few days now since I began tailing him, and it seems that he has caught on. We’re walking down an abandoned hall in the Weeping Tower, long after classes have ended for the day, and since he sneered at me to fuck off a few minutes ago, I have stopped trying to be sneaky. I am outright following him now.

“Go away, Snow,” he calls over his shoulder, but I keep forging on, walking faster so that I can catch up to him.

“You’re awful at this. Did you really think that I didn’t know you’ve been following me all week?”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Because I know that you are too inept to figure anything out. I have been walking aimlessly up and down these halls for the past hour, and you still think that I’m ‘up to something’.” His tone is mocking, and I shouldn’t let him get to me, yet I do. I always do.

I’ve caught up to him now, and he is resolutely ignoring me.

I have had enough of this. I’m not getting anywhere by following him, so I need to make him tell me what he’s doing.

Reaching out and grabbing his arm, I manage to catch him off guard enough to turn him and slam him into the wall.

I only have a moment to take in his wide-eyed expression before we start falling.

The wall seems to open up behind Baz, revealing a doorway that wasn’t there before, and then we’re falling and stumbling backward as we try to keep from hitting the ground. I trip over someone’s foot – probably my own – and I end up crashing into Baz and knocking us both to the floor.

Baz groans as I land on him, and a moment later he’s shoving me off of him, hard. I scramble to my feet as he grumbles about the bruises that he’ll have from my elbows and how he’ll make me pay for that later.

I’m still ready to have it out with him, my hands itching to hit him as they form fists by my side, but I’m stopped when Baz stands and exclaims, “What the hell?!”

He’s staring at something behind me, so I turn to see what it is, careful to keep him in my line of vision in case this is a trick to catch me when my back is turned. What I don’t expect to see is that the wall has closed up again behind us, trapping us in this mysterious room.

Baz pushes past me, wand held out, and he immediately starts reciting a number of spells, obviously trying to get the wall to open back up.

Whispering the familiar incantation, I pull out my sword, not really sure if there is anything that I could do with it to help get us out of here. Baz’s spells don’t seem to be doing any good, so with a though of ‘why not?’, I swing my sword at the wall.

There are sparks, and it bounces off the wall, nearly hitting me as it rebounds.

“Shit, Snow. Put that thing away.”

“Why?” I ask, just to be contrary.

“Because it’s dark in here, and I don’t want you to accidentally maim me.”

“Who says it would be an accident?” I murmur, but I put my sword away anyway, more worried about accidentally harming myself than harming him.

Baz casts another spell, then murmurs, “This room shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, it is.”

“No, I mean that was an outer wall that we just fell through. We should have fallen to the ground.”

“Then, you should be glad that this room is here. It means that we aren’t dead.”

He turns to look at me long enough for me to see him glaring at me in annoyance. “Or I can be furious because you caused us to get trapped in here.”

“How did I cause this? You’re the one walking around doing who knows what?”

“You slammed me into the wall, causing it to fall away. It is clearly your fault.”

“Would you like me to do it again? I could slam you into the wall, and we’ll see if it opens up again.”

“You will do no such thing.” His cheeks are tinged pink with fury now.

It was obviously the wrong thing to suggest, but it seems like a pretty reasonable idea to me.

“It worked the last time,” I say with a shrug.

“I’ve got enough bruises forming because of you. I don’t need any more.”

I roll my eyes and take a couple of steps away from him before plopping down on the ground and leaning against the wall. We obviously aren’t getting out of here anytime soon.

After a quiet moment that seems to stretch forever, Baz casts a spell to bring a ball of light into the room, shining light into the dark corners of this barren room that we’re in. He hesitates briefly before sliding down the wall and sitting gracefully beside me.

Looking around, I notice that the room looks like any of the other classes in the Tower. It’s just lacking in furniture and windows. And a door, of course. At least the floor is carpeted and not too uncomfortable to sit on.

Baz is right, though, however much it pains me to admit that. This room shouldn’t be here.

We sit in silence for a long time. It could be minutes, could be hours. It’s hard to tell. Baz occasionally throws out a spell at the wall or to renew the light spell when it starts to dim.

After a while, I hear Baz’s breathing getting shallow, and I can feel him practically vibrating beside me. He doesn’t seem to be taking well to this whole being trapped together thing.

“Baz?” I whisper.

“What, Snow?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he snaps.

“No. You’re not. You’re shaking. And I-I think that you might be panicking.”

Baz stays silent, but his breathing is still quick. If he doesn’t find a way to calm down, he’ll hyperventilate.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, and I can feel the force of the glare that he turns on me, so I continue talking quickly. “I mean, it happens to me a lot. Like when I’m about to go off. You need to try to focus on your breathing. Take a deep breath in, then exhale slowly—.”

“I know how to breathe, Snow.”

Merlin, is he never not an arse? Even when I try to be nice to him, he snarks at me.

Why am I even helping him? What do I care if he hyperventilates?

“Really? Coulda fooled me,” I say.

Baz scowls, but I notice that he does as I said, taking deep breaths in and exhaling slowly as he stares at the blank wall across from us until his breathing is a little closer to normal.

We fall into another long silence until Baz surprises my by breaking it with, “I just don’t like being trapped in small, dark places.

“You practically live in the Catacombs.”

“I’m not trapped down there. I know my way out.”

“What about the last time we were stuck in a small room together? Back in fifth year?” I haven’t allowed myself to think about that day in years, but I know that he wasn’t frightened that day. Far from it, in fact.

“That was different.” It sounds like his voice shakes, but that has to be because of the claustrophobia thing, not because he’s thinking about anything that we did that day.

“How?” I ask.

“I knew we were going to be let out. For all I know, we’ll be stuck in this room until we die.”

“Can vampires die?” I muse aloud.

“Everything can die.”

“Ha! So, you admit that you’re a vampire,” I say excitedly.

“All I said was that everything dies,” he says in a bored tone.

I ignore him and ask, “Should I be worried that you’re going to get thirsty and suck my blood?”

“You should be worried that I’m going to hit you if you don’t shut up.”

“Do you seriously want to sit here in silence for who knows how long?”

“It’s better than listening to you talk.” He leans his head back and closes his eyes, apparently done with me.

I huff but don’t say anything more.

Unfortunately, with nothing else to focus on, I find myself thinking about that day in fifth year.

I didn’t even want to go to that party. Penny dragged me to it, insisting that I needed to stop obsessing over Baz, at least for an hour. I am certain that she never predicted that he would be there or what would happen between us that night.

I’m not sure who suggested the game or why Baz and I got sent into the closet together. All I know is that it seemed to be the magickal version of seven minutes in heaven. Two people would get sent in and spells would be cast to lock them in there and to make it so that no one could hear anything so that no one would be able to hear anything that you may or may not have done in there.

It seemed stupid, but when I saw Baz hand his wand over to Dev, I knew that I couldn’t be the one to back down, so I handed my wand to Penny and went into the closet with him.

Baz and I spent the first full minute in a stubborn silence. No one would know if we didn’t do anything. And I don’t think anyone would have cared.

I began to grow restless, though, and as I shifted around, I bumped into Baz.

“Could you be still?” He sneered.

“Make me,” I told him without really thinking about it.

Before I could register what was happening, Baz had slammed me into the wall, pinning my arms to the wall at my sides, and I remember letting out an embarrassing shriek of surprise.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, breathless for some reason.

“Making you be still.”

My eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, and I could just barely make out Baz’s expression. I expected him to be sneering at me, like he was about to hit me, but his expression was one I had never seen before. I didn’t know what it meant, but I could smell the alcohol on his breath as it brushed across my face, making me very aware of how close we were.

I seemed to be the only person who wasn’t drinking at that party. I could only imagine what would have happened if I had decided to mix alcohol with my already unpredictable magic. It likely would be the biggest disaster that I had caused yet.

I was just thinking about pushing Baz away when he whispered, “It’s just a game.”

Then, he kissed me.

I was so surprised that it took me a few moments to respond, and then I surprised myself by kissing him back.

His lips were soft and pliant, and I hummed as he parted his lips just slightly against mine.

I tilted my head, jutting out my chin, and kissed him deeper, cautiously delving my tongue into his mouth. I still wasn’t completely sure that this wasn’t some kind of trick. He could have planned this whole thing to get me locked in here and vulnerable so that he could finish me once and for all.

I might have actually believed that if he hadn’t willingly left his wand out there. It was a rule of the game, but I’m sure he would have protested if he wanted to.

So, I kept kissing him, and when he released my arms, I pushed one of my hands into his hair, mussing it up and feeling the sleek strands slip through my fingers.

His hands were gripping my hips before one of them pushed up under my shirt, resting on my waist, his hands refreshingly cool against my over-heated skin.

We broke apart for a moment to catch our breaths, and Baz smiled at me.

“I really like you, Simon” he whispered, and before I could respond or figure out whether he meant it or was trying to mess with me, he was kissing me again.

I moved my free hand to his side then over to his stomach, dipping my fingers between two of the buttons on his shirt, feeling the smooth skin and hardened muscles of his stomach.

He moved his body impossibly closer to mine, and I could feel him pressed against my leg. Curious, I reached my hand down to touch him through his trousers, evoking a beautiful groan from him.

“We only have seven minutes,” Baz said, sounding regretful.

I gave him a quick squeeze in response before moving my hand. He was right. We didn’t have time for that, even though I could feel my own body reacting to everything that he was doing, to all of the different sensations.

Too soon, we felt the spell that was keeping us in there fall away, and we only had a moment to break away and attempt to right ourselves before the door was yanked open.

Baz sneered at everyone who was standing outside of the closet, waiting for us to emerge, and even though to me, it seemed apparent what we were doing in there by the state of our appearance, I could hear people whispering about how we must have spent the entire time fighting in there.

They had no idea that what we did in there was so much better than fighting.

Baz pushed through the crowd and disappeared from the party before I could even think about following him. He didn’t return to our room that night, and when I tried to talk to him the next day, he pushed me down the stairs.

He continued to avoid me after that, pretending like nothing ever happened, and I’m not going to lie, that hurt a lot. It left a deep ache in my chest that I couldn’t tell anyone about. I couldn’t even tell Penny. I couldn’t admit to here that she was right, that I was obsessed with Baz

So, I dealt with the pain by myself, and when I started dating Agatha a little more than a month later, I decided that I was never going to think about those wonderful six minutes with Baz ever again.

Until now, apparently.

I can feel that ache in my chest again, but it isn’t as strong as it was in fifth year. I’ve gotten over it. Baz is going to treat me like shit no matter what I do or say, and I just have to deal with it, even if it means lying to everyone about my real feelings for him.

“You would have told me if there was a chance for us, right?” Baz asks quietly, breaking through the silence and my reverie.

“I—. What?” I ask, no idea what he’s talking about.

“We played that game, and I thought that maybe there was a chance you felt something but… But you never said anything.”

Apparently, he was thinking about the same thing I was. Though, I have no idea where this is coming from. He hates me, and he made that perfectly clear, back then and every day since then.

So, why does he care if I felt something for him?

I look over at him, but he’s still staring at the wall, so I can’t see his expression.

“I didn’t think it meant anything to you,” I say truthfully.

“I kissed you!” He exclaims, turning to look at me.

“It was a game! You actually said that, right before you kissed me.”

“And then I told you that I liked you.”

“And you were drunk,” I point out. “Plus, I did try to say something, the next day, but you were avoiding me. Then, you pushed me down the stairs.”

“That was an accident. A lucky punch.”

I shake my head at him. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. That was years ago.”

We’re quiet for a bit, but it doesn’t seem like Baz is ready to let this go yet.

“What would you have said?” He asks quietly, staring at the floor now, at the space between us.

“What?”

“You said that you tried to talk to me the next day. What would you have said if I hadn’t – if we hadn’t fought?”

“Why does it matter? It was a long time ago.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why? so you can have something else to make fun of me for?”

“No, I just—.” It’s his tone that gets to me. It almost sounds like he’s choked with emotion.

“Just what?” I ask, softer than I mean to.

Baz gets really quiet, and when he finally speaks, I barely hear him. “I need to know that we didn’t waste three years. I need to know that you liking me back was only a hopeless dream.”

I’m speechless. How do I respond to that? I had no idea that Baz had feelings for me. He never showed me. If I had known, I would have done things differently. I would have—. Well, I’m not really sure what I would have done back then, but I know what I want to do now.

I turn to him, scooting closer until our legs are nearly pressed against each other, and our faces our just a few inches apart.

I search his face for any sign that he may be lying, but for once, his expression is open and vulnerable. I can see his fear of being rejected.

“I would have said that I liked you, too,” I murmur.

Then, I kiss him.

I kiss him softly at first, but as he kisses me back fervently, I press my lips to his more firmly.

Unable to resist touching him and remembering how his body felt against mine in fifth year, I reach for him, tugging and pulling on him until he huffs out a laugh and climbs onto my lap, trapping my legs between his muscular, footballer ones.

I immediately pull him back into the kiss, tangling my hand in his hair and keeping him there.

I slide my tongue experimentally against his lips, and he parts them easily to allow me entrance.

I sigh into his mouth, wondering why we haven’t always been doing this. It feels so good, so right. Like this was my purpose in life.

Not saving the World of Mages or defeating the Humdrum. This.

I was born to kiss Baz, to hold him and love him. (Do I love him? That’s a question for another time.)

I break away from the kiss to kiss down his jaw to his neck, and I can’t help myself. I bite down on his neck, sucking the skin into my mouth, leaving a mark there. I smile to myself, thinking about how it’s just another bruise that Baz can blame me for.

Hopefully, he won’t be too mad about this one, though.

Baz’s hand tightens in my hair, pulling on it, and rather than it hurting, it feels almost good. I moan against his neck, and my hips involuntarily jerk up against his. It feels good, though. It feels right, so I do it again.

“N-not now,” Baz gasps. “Not here.”

“O-okay,” I say, attempting to catch my breath and feeling a little dejected, wondering if I was wrong about what he wants.

He places his hand on my cheek and tilts my head up so that I’m looking at him, and his gaze is so soft, so gentle. He’s even smiling at me, and it warms my heart to have him look at me like that.

“I want our first time to mean something. I want it to be—.”

“Special?” I finish when he cuts himself off.

“Shut up.”

“No, it’s fine,” I say, grinning. “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Now, shut up and kiss me.”

We continue to kiss for a long time, switching between slow, gentle kisses and frenzied, hungry kisses, until our kisses turn lazy and sloppy as we fight to stay awake. Pulling my lips regretfully from his, I press my face against his neck and inhale deeply, smiling at the familiar scent of his posh soap.

“It looks like we’re going to be stuck here for the night,” I say, fighting to keep my eyes open.

“Yeah, we should probably get some sleep.”

“Mhmm,” I agree, yawning sleepily.

Baz drags himself off my lap, pressing a final kiss to my forehead, and spells some bedding for us before laying out a make-shift bed on the ground.

We spend the night sleeping in each other’s arms, and I’m pretty sure it’s the best that I’ve slept in months.

***

When we wake in the morning, the first thing that I notice is that the wall is open again.

Actually, the first thing I notice is the way that Baz’s body feels curved against mine. Then, I notice the wall.

“Baz,” I whisper, shaking him lightly. I know he hates to get up early, and he hates it even more when someone tries to wake him, but I figure we might want to get out of here before the wall decides to close up again.

Baz seems to agree because a few beats later, after grumbling at me groggily, he’s jumping up and holding out a hand to me as he spells away our bedding, pulling me out of the room and down the stairs.

When we step outside, I welcome the feel of the autumnal wind as it rushes through my hair and clothes.

Baz says something about having something he needs to do, and I know he probably needs to feed (whether he will admit it or not), but I’m not about to let him get away this time.

“Wait,” I say, reaching for his hand to keep him from leaving.

“What?” He asks, and it’s weird to hear him ask that without sneering at me.

“What does this mean?”

“What do you want it to mean?” He asks, not even pretending not to know what I’m talking about.

“I want to be your boyfriend.”

“Okay.”

“But I’m a terrible boyfriend. I’ll likely muck this up and say the wrong thing or scare you away—.”

He interrupts me with a kiss, just a small thing, but enough to shut me up.

“Simon,” he says, and I smile at the sound of my name on his lips. “You won’t scare me a way. You’re a bloody nightmare, but I’ve still liked you for years. There’s not much that you could do at this point to scare me away.”

“So, you want to? Be boyfriends, I mean.”

He laughs lightly, pulling me into his arms.

“Yes. I want to be your terrible boyfriend.”

I pull him into one last kiss before letting him go. I’m happy, knowing that he will return to me this time.

Things have changed now, and I couldn’t be happier about it as I practically skip back to our room.

I know things won’t always be easy, but they will be better than they would have had we continued to fight all the time.

Things will be better with him.

[madmaudlingoes]

MAG 175 and the stages of grief

Twitter is a hellscape so I can’t find the thread rn, but I’ve always liked the interpretive framework that the seasons of The Magnus Archives correspond to the five stages of grief, and the Entity at the center of each season represents that stage.

Season 1 = Denial/The Corruption. Jon denies the supernatural, his own personal experience of the Beholding, and Prentiss specifically, and in the meantime the worms (and a lot of other things) are festering and growing unchecked out of sight. And when they finally burst forth, when these things can’t be denied any longer, it’s almost too late to do anything about them.

Season 2 = Anger/The Beholding. Yes, the Not-Sasha is the monster at the end of the book, but Jon himself spends this whole season causing problems on purpose because he’s angry and paranoid and can’t leave anything alone. Only to discover, in the end, that these are traits that make him suitable to be the Archivist.

Season 3 = Bargaining/The Stranger. Am I still human, Elias? Is that what I do, Gerry? Jon spends this whole season as a stranger to himself and everyone else, trying to figure out who and what he is anymore, and what that means.

Season 4 = Depression/The Lonely. Kinda obvious, this one.

Now we’re in Season 5, which should correspond to Acceptance, but so far we seem to be recapitulating the other four stages in miniature. The first two episodes were clearly Denial (Jon staying in the cabin, listening to tapes, to distract himself from what he’s done) and from “Revolutions” to at least “The Gardener” we had Jon acting out in Anger, killing the avatars who hurt him/aided Jonah’s ritual. “Epoch” seems to be clearly in the Bargaining stage, possibly edging into Depression, with Martin’s questions about apocalypses and God and stuff.

But in another sense, this whole season has been Jon and Martin rehashing the steps that lead them to this afterworld, their own choices and those of others. What-ifs and could-have-beens and hypotheticals. Most of those have been “could we have stopped this” (if Sasha had been the Archivist instead, if Jon had stayed dead, if Martin had killed Jonah in the Panopticon, if Helen/Georgie/Melanie/Basira/etc had done some specific thing differently...). Martin’s question in this episode had a different feel to it: does it even matter that Jonah ended the world this particular way, if some sort of apocalypse was inevitable? Did any of their choices matter?

Which is interesting in light of the fact that the key Entity this seasons seems to be the Web. There’s still so much we don’t know: why did the Web bind Gertrude and Agnes all those years ago? What was the point of manipulating Emma Harvey, Gertrude’s confidant? What was the point of the Chelicerae forum from “Web Development,” what’s really going on at Hill Top Road, is it at all connected to Albrecht von Closen? Why did Jon get a Web-marked lighter, and why was Annabelle so keen to talk to Martin? 

Something last season hit hard was that the Web is as much the fear of the possibility of being manipulated as it is manipulation itself. And in this season’s Web episode, “Strung Out,” Martin made an important choice: to live with that uncertainty, to accept the possibility, rather than ask Jon to Know the truth one way or another. Which is a hell of a middle finger to an Entity that thrives on uncertainty (and there’s probably another meta about how Martin lives with so much fear without being consumed by it).

Before this season ends, Jon and Martin are going to have to stop dwelling on the past and what-ifs and coulda/woulda/shoulda. The way forward -- whether that means undoing the Eyepocalypse or mercy-killing everyone in it or something else -- doesn’t lie in looking back. It probably won’t even involve killing Jonah (and in fact I would love to see Jonah “King of a Ruined World” Magnus having a Very Bad Time up in his stupid fucking tower to really drive this home). I don’t have any predictions on what the endgame is, just that it’s not gonna be clear until our characters accept what they are and where they’re starting from.

[isaackuo]

My Predictions for Sad Teen Hotline ... Ready, Aim, Fire

Honestly, I did not have many guesses for next week's episodes just from the episode titles. My only early guess was for Sad Teen Hotline.

My early guess was that this would be a Ponyhead episode, where Ponyhead and Seahorse answer the "Sad Teen Hotline". I thought it could be really funny seeing how they answer calls from teens who really need help but then ... Ponyhead. Haha, the worst possible person to talk to!

Sad Teen Hotline

Tom breaks up with Star but is not prepared for the consequences

Okay, first a serious guess; then a silly guess.

Serious guess: I think Tom's getting anxious because it's been like a week and Star still hasn't called or texted him. So, Tom goes to seek advice from his best friend and reliable wingman Marco Diaz. Maybe Tom even gives Marco a heads up text, but Marco has no idea there's any drama between him and Star so he replies "Sure thing, buddy."

And so Tom goes to visit Marco and then ... Star walks in. She's wearing her PJs or something so it's super obvious she's been living there. And Tom loses it. Tom thought Star was off somewhere on her own "figuring things out". But actually she's been goofing off playing house with Marco Diaz? That's it! Tom can't take it any more.

So Tom breaks up with Star - for reals this time. He can't talk to Marco, so he calls the Sad Teen Hotline.

Silly guess: Okay, but what if Ponyhead and Seahorse ARE the ones to answer the "Sad Teen Hotline". I mean, that could still be pretty funny. Just imagine:

Pony: Hey gurl, Sad Teen Hotline here!

Tom: I- I'm not a gurl.

Pony: Really? You sure? Coulda fooled me.

Tom: Wait. Are - Are you Ponyhead?

Pony: Why yes! This is she. You a fan of the show?

Tom: What? What? It's me. Tom.

Pony: Oh, it's Tomboy! I was wundering when you'd call.

Tom: What? Look, I- I'm not so sure if I'm comfortable with this right now.

Pony: It's about B-fly, isn't it?

Tom: What? Well, yeah. I-

Pony: Oh yeah. Now spill.

Tom: Yeah. Okay. I ... I caught Star living with Marco.

Pony: Umm, okay.

Tom: What? No it's not okay.

Pony: But like ... Star's been living with Marco for a year.

Tom: Uh ... okay. But not the point. I think Star's in love with Marco.

Pony: Yes, true that.

Tom: Wait. What? You knew?

Pony: Uhh ... everybody knows. Weren't like, you there when I called it?

Tom: Where?

Pony: Oh wait you weren't. Whatevs.

Tom: How long have you known?

Pony: Uh, since the day after Star moved to Earth. She hasn't been on Earth even one full day and suddenly she has a NEW best bestie? Rude!

Tom: Wait. Are you saying Star fell in love with Marco the very first day they met?

Pony: Uh, yea-ah! She cray like that. You didn't know?

Tom: ... No. No, I did not.

Pony: Oh snap!

Tom: Wh- What about Marco?

Pony: Earth turd? What about him?

Tom: He - He, uh, told me it was just platonic.

Pony: And you believed him?

Tom: Hey! Marco's a cool dude. He's done a lot of stuff to help me with Star.

Pony: If that's true why are you talking to me and not to him?

Tom: B-Because ... You're right.

Pony: I am always right, Tomboy!

Tom: It's - It's really over isn't it?

Pony: Yes it is, too bad. NBD

Tom: Hey! That's really mean!

Pony: Lighten up, Tomboy! Just get yourself a new girlfriend!

Tom: Wh- what? Just like that?

Pony: Yeah, babe, why not?

Tom: Wh- Ugh. Easy for you to say, you've had like a dozen boyfriends.

Pony: Tom, it IS easy, you fine.

Tom: What?

Pony: You didn't know? You think Earth turd's the only lady-slayer around? Listen, you break three hearts just walking into the room.

Tom: Uh ... Really?

Pony: Oh wow, B got you messed up bad. Boy, you got to start looking in the mirror and stop looking for your reflection in Star Butterfly's eyes.

Tom: Huh. Thanks. Thanks, Pony. This has been ... surprisingly helpful.

Pony: You're welcome, and thanks for being my guest on The Ponyhead Show!

Jannanigans

Star and Marco need Janna's help to return to Mewni.

This sounds like a straightforward episode description, although for some reason Tom isn't mentioned. Based on the other episode descriptions, surely Tom is also in the same boat. (He he ... "same boat". I see what I accidentally did there.)

Okay, I guess that they'll go by boat, as foreshadowed by Meteora's Lesson. Not that this is such a wild guess, considering the following episode description:

Mama Star

Star, Marco, Janna and Tom lose their memories as they traverse amnesia-inducing waters to get back to Mewni.

This sounds like another straightforward episode description, and it does sound like something similar to how the first (Earth?) pioneers arrived in Mewni. Speaking of which, I'm going along with the theory that the first Mewmans were humans from Earth.

Based on other episode descriptions, I'm going to guess ... hmm ... I'm guessing that Marco doesn't make it. But Star's needed to help save Mewni so she has no choice to keep going while leaving other(s) to try and save Marco later.

Ready, Aim, Fire

Star arrives in Mewni as a soldier attacks Monster Castle.

My guess is that Star goes to fight, while Janna and Tom go around to try and recruit help. Maybe they run into Hekapoo and Hekapoo decides to go save Marco since she can't decide which side to fight on.

All in all, I'm very much not confident about any of these guesses except for Sad Teen Hotline. It'll be fun to see!

[thenixkat]

Animorphs notes 50

Book 50

In the final count down

We start with a fucking Cassie book.

Who is scraping their slave’s blades together in the middle of a fight?

Who decided to start haveing hork bodies make a weird pretty much impossible noise given the fucking placement of their blades. 

Also still no distinction b/w enslaved people and the people controlling them

… Cassie’s skin… is already brown… ya know what? I don’t care, I’ve already revoked her Black card for a while now

So this was an exercise. One that Cassie failed.

Also since when was Toby’s speech ‘guttural’?

Also just doubling down on this staying put for siege warfare nonsense from 47 huh?

Imagine if yall decided to break this shit to yer families b4 u were forced to do so

Well at least they have a new camp and didn’t inside on staying in the old one. It’s a start

Hell yeah hork-bajir construction and engineering prowess

If Jake really gave a damn about the saftey of his parents he’d have fucking made a second attempt to rescue his brother

He should blame himself

I mean I’ve mostly ignored Tobias but this whole wild hawk thing reads like an extended suicide attempt that the universe just won’t take him up on

hammers i get axes and saws? Why? horks... are axes and saws

Cassie's mom needs to not be specist

also of course the parents aren't allowed to have any competence. they are damseles who can't fight and need to be babysat by horks. also! the animorphs never consider giving their parents morphing just incase to protect themselves. Except for Loren but there’s lot to unpack there and I’d rather just throw out the suitcase

also why the fuck would Cassie's mom, a fucking veterinarian not understand that people could die? Vets have to deal with death and injury and unpleasant shit. Ya know the realities of nature and chance and the horrible things that happen to animals and what people can do to animals

but that would mean actually making the parents characters and not just devices to show how much the Animorphs have 'grown' and how people who'bve never been to war can't possibly understand it

I’ve not forgotten Marco deliberately leaving his stepmom to be enslaved b/c he likes his first mom better

Also the Animorphs are def falling apart

i wish the parents were allowed to act like actual people

When I say the ableist shit in Animorphs I don’t just mean the shit with the physically disabled characters

Rachel didn’t touch them? At no point in that segment did she touch her mom. This is book 34 all over again when the writer changing events a paragraph apart. My kingdom for a fucking editor

Ah it just seemed like she was talking to Rachel and not the horks. I will not delete my previous point

and the series had been trying to make a point of painting Rachel as needlessly violient and dangerous for a good while now it just felt like something the writers would do

*Note: I don’t actually put my full conversations with Ach in these

Cassie yer the last person who can be calling people cowards

A functional team leader would know the second in command just incase anything happened

Tobias seems to be hanging out in human shape more

The hork-bajir are getting on just fine Cassie and would be great without yall

… I’m just gonna assume that Toomin took all the parents brains b/c them being functional would get in the way of his plans

I’m just gonna start skipping shit b/c thsi is very poorly written

Is this implying that Toby has an underbite?

Just assuming that the yeerk resistance has been crushed or can’t help

All the animorphs are speciest as fuck and deserve to fucking lose this fight

“So it has to be people” I hate these kids i hate these kids i hate these kids

Writers: Purposely makes the adults behave with no sense or realism at all

Writers: Are to uncreative to use the hork-bajir Writers: Guess the only solution is to throw more kids at the meat grinder and let's sprinkle in some ableism

The yeerks have very advanced prosthetics/medical technology and a body is a body you ableist hacks

...The yeerks would know that morphing heals people you cunts VISSER 3 FUCKING EXISTS\

Pointing out yer inconsistencies doesn’t make it better

I don’t  give a shit about yer romo worries

You’d think these fuckers would wear a different face than their own but that ould imply they can think

Part of me just loves the ‘fuck off’ energy that girls have for Marco. 

More ableism. There was no rudeness on the part of the stuttering boy or the girls expecting the Animorphs to fucking stick around and wait for what he had to say

I like James

James and friends are a good.

Like it feels like an entirely different actually competent writer showed up for a few scenes

Annnnd now we’re back to shit. Collette you and yours did nothing wrong or dude

Kelly has exactly the right attitude. And Timmy’s probably the only asian person outside of Allison Kim in this whole fucking series.

hell yeah James kick his ass!

I wanna see Kelly kick their asses too! Cassie is racist against romani people

honestly I would have prefered it if James didn't give a shit about Jake turning into a tiger. something like, "That ain't gonna help you beat me jackass"

listen take it to the ultimate level, mount some dracon beams to his chair and just have him fucking go at the yeerk forces and kick their asses

Call their asses out James

Not everyone is willing or able to put their lives on the line and that’s fine. Not everyone is a warrior or willing to throw away their lives. There’s more roles in a war than just fighting

Oh who coulda guessed that the important one would be healed by morphing

i am not well versed enough in disability issues to rip that apart but i know enough that it should be shredded

You had several fucking choices that you decided not to go with b/c the writers are hacks

Huh neat the yeerks predicted them and attacked

Nice. I love some competence. The unnammed yeerk leads the capture of the majority of teh Animorphs

Kelly's battle morph is a fucking walrus! that's awsome

Everyone’s competence has flushed into the void

booo Kelly has a perfictly good walrus

Tobias isn’t morphed oh forget it

One of the yeerk resistence actually did something!

Thanks Cassie! You’ve fucked over yer side and will have much more blood on yer hands. 

Also Jake continues to not give a singular shit about rescuing his brother

And that ends the book

[willowgust]

Why They Did It

(( Continued from What the Horde Scum Did, RPed with @commander-dawnstriker who played as Throrim.))

It was almost strange to learn what the interior of the Dalaran hospital looked like. Not too long ago, it teemed with intense doctors, crying guests, nurses whose frowns heralded news that could rip a soul apart, and a sea of cots and broken bodies. For the first time, Qaradoc noticed that some of the floor tiles had more red than the others.

The three young dwarves who'd told Qaradoc and Throrim about their mysterious saviors had already come and gone. They approached a nurse, who gestured them both to a square of white sheets dangling from the ceiling - save a gap wide enough to enter. With a slow hand, the gentlemanly monk dipped his hand to retrieve the golden pocket watch.

When he entered, his brows rose in surprise, the expression below them otherwise stoic. He didn't know what to expect when he laid eyes on the apparent 'heroes'. But it wasn't this.

The Forsaken priestess peered up at the visitors with intrigue, but confusion. She couldn't have died any younger than her early fifties. In place of eyes were tired embers resembling church candlelight, betraying a constant state of hurt worry. Her face was a piteous, guilt-reaping landscape of drooping crevices, her nose large and hooked. The appearance alone made Qaradoc feel as though he'd just slapped his own mother for giving him a teddy bear. And admittedly, something about this woman screamed 'strong-willed foundation of the family.' The meticulously styled dead grass she considered hair probably smelled like fake flowers. Resting over the blanket on her lap were yellowed claws jutting from her hands, and the skeletal balls of her elbows protruding from withered, green-hued flesh.

Beside her was a pandaren in his mid-30′s equivalent performing a miracle: not crushing the bed beneath him. Involuntarily the first words that entered Qaradoc's mind were 'giant wharf bum.' The fur coating his mountainous body was dull with wear, and the reeking fragrance of fish already invaded his senses. So scruffy was the shaman’s appearance that it was vaguely threatening, if not for the mellow smile greeting him. He had the demeanor of a low-key wallflower - a feat not easily accomplished by a tall man with such a blubbery pear-gut. Splaying out irregularly from his cheeks to his chin was a dark, haggard beard, hosting a braided goutee kinked with split ends. The shaggy mop over his head hadn't seen a brush in what looked to be... ever, and was ornamented with knotted leather and yarn fed through painted beads. Surrounded by dusky splotches, his beady eyes were the color of glaciers, his stare simple. 

The pause that weighed over them was long and awkward. Qaradoc’s trip to Dalaran was absorbed by mustering what to say once this moment arrived, but suddenly he'd forgotten the entirety of the Common language. 

 "...Can we help you?" the woman asked. A nasally sound, her arrestingly drawn-out voice seemed in a perpetual state of italics. It had an unusual lilt.

Finally Qaradoc found the nerve to clear his voice, standing with a properly stringent, cool-mannered posture. "Erm, yes," he said softly, presenting the watch. "I believe this is yours."

Throrim stood there confused, looking between Qaradoc and the two in bed. "Well fook me they weren't kiddin'! Fuckin' deader and a whale covered in fur saved those wee dwarven lives." Throrim laughed, slapping his knee.

Qaradoc glanced down at Throrim with mixed feelings hinting his features: subtle disapproval at his rudeness, but amusement. He wasn't wrong. 

The pandaren blinked, then pulled in his chin to stare at his belly, trying to find a resemblance to a seafaring mammal. 

"Oye, so this is what we get for--" she paused the nag-train and gazed at the two in shock. "Who are you?" 

"I am Master Qaradoc Taliesin, and this is Throrim Stoneframe. You saved the nieces and nephews of a lady I held very dear, and consider her family as my own." 

The priestess froze, allowing his implication to sink in. "...So she didn't make it?" 

"She did not." 

Her hair barely shifted when she shook her head. "Light and Shadow keep her." 

"I would be quite obliged if I also knew who you were." 

"...Chavivah," she answered finally. "Chavivah Benesh. This is Seo-yun," she gestured to the shaman, who nodded. 

Throrim took a steep bow from the waist, long beard and adornments clinking against the tiles. "Yer alright in my book. Ye saved the lives of those little dwarflings." He stood back up, still glancing curiously between the three.

Qaradoc wore a disquisitive expression similar to that of his companion, but stern. Wary. "I have but one question, Mrs. Benesh." 

"What's that, dear?" 

Dear. She blessed Pydilgri's memory, too. This gave the human some pause before he could brave the word. "Why?" 

"...Why?" Chavivah repeated, baffled at first. 

"Why did you save them?"

"'s a good question miss, Ya are Horde. And they're little dwarfs. Coulda just let 'em die, a few less Alliance to deal with. Can't say I woulda done the same." Throrim just scratched his beard thinking aloud.

Chavivah listened to Throrim's elaboration and gave a bitter scoff. Seo-yun released a heavy sigh through his nose. "The Horde..." she muttered. "For a time that name meant at least a bisel of something. You want to know why we did it, with the saving of dwarves? The same reason I'm tired of this petty Horde this, Alliance that.” Even in bed, her movements were eye-catching, yet frail. “That lady? I met her. She saved my son, and we locked eyes. The same eyes I had when I was alive, when all my children were alive. Always with the fighting and so many other mothers I could have locked eyes with. Hundreds. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. That is the truth of war. It's the nightmare that won’t let any mother sleep, or any family.” The pause was deafening. “...That is why we did it. For once we wanted to make a mother cry from happiness instead of loss."

"More power to ya miss, and I respect ya for it. Just sayin' I wouldn't be in the same mindset in the situation. I've been fightin' nearly as long as I've been alive." Throrim smiled, gave a small bow of respect to her.

Chavivah couldn't help but offer a small smile back. "Why should you want to continue, then? Nearly your whole life you've been fighting? Such a long time you dwarves live. I would be tired. I haven't fought so long and I am tired. Would I fight to protect my friends and family from an Alliance army, should they attack? Sure, in self-defense. But this faction war..." The glow of her eyes rolled in their sockets. "I'm done. This poor mensch," she gestured with a jerk of her head, "has hardly been involved compared with us and he's done." 

Seo-yun confirmed with a nod, the jaded knit of his forehead speaking for him. 

The astonishment churning inside Qaradoc was enough to tense his eyes. He swallowed and drew a breath with forced calm. "Blimey me, the Light actually touches them," he murmured. 

"The Light never left me, or my people," Chavivah answered firmly, knowing full well he wasn't expecting her to respond. 

"The Forsaken?" he asked, perplexed. 

"No, no. The Yibbrews. Many of us haven't abandoned our faith. It's helped us survive. Anyway." She held out her vulture-like hand to accept the watch, which Qaradoc placed with care (mostly to avoid her decaying palm). "Thank you for bringing back the watch. To my family it means a lot."

"Fightin' is what I'm good at Miss. I flew a gunship into the heart of Antorus only a few months ago. I get paid well for what I do. But I understand it's not for everyone. A little bit of peace wouldn't be terrible. Give me a chance to go explorin'." Throrim shrugged, perking his eyebrows at the mention of the Yibbrews of the north. "Thought you all died out."

"We did!" Chavivah almost laughed. "Well, the Lordaeron sect anyway. The orthodox tribe in southern Kalimdor is still living. Then many of us were risen again." 

She itched her claws at a weathered patch of skin on her forearm. "You sound brave. I bet you give your mother a cardiac arrest once a week." 

Qaradoc smirked. "Bloomin' likely." 

"Do you fight for fighting's sake, Mr. Stoneframe? Even with the Legion gone, in my opinion there are other things more worth fighting, if you really have to. But..." She gave a long, withered sighed, despite not having to breathe. "It seems tensions may be mounting again. Certainly I couldn't blame you for battling to defend." 

"So you don't consider yourself Horde? Either of you? What of you - surely you can speak for yourself?" he turned to Seo-yun. "Please, beg your pardon - haven't gotten a word in edge-wise." 

Seo-yun shrugged. He lifted his paw, palm facing down, and wiggled it in a so-so gesture. Then he shook his head. "Self-defense," was all he said. His voice was predictably deep and gravelly, though with a surprising warmth.

"And here I was thinkin’ ya were all wiped out," Throrim chuckled. "Hard as fook to kill aren't ye?" Then his head snapped towards Seo-yun. "BY MAGNI'S SPARKLING ASS THE BEAR CAN TALK?!" He chuckled, slapping his belly loudly.

Even Seo-yun's brief guffaw was scruffy-sounding. He got this reaction a lot. 

"You should be so lucky!" Chavivah exclaimed. "Months it took me to hear his voice! But oh, yes. Hard to kill, hard to please, and hard to walk away from without a full belly. Which I would be happy to do, if not these silly bandages. Oh that reminds me, in my purse hanging from the bed post are some sandwiches. Please, take as much as you like!" 

Qaradoc blinked several times, stunned by the unwarranted level of kindness. "Oh, gracious me. That's terribly kind of you Mrs. Benesh, but I'm quite fine," he declined, mostly out of politeness. 

Seo-yun suddenly winced, bracing himself. He knew exactly what was about to come. And here it goes. 

"What? You don't like my sandwiches?" 

"Oh no Mrs. Benesh, it's not that! It--" 

"After all the hours I slave injured in bed over a flimsy lunch table my sandwiches you don't like?" 

Overcome with insta-guilt embarrassment and the Gilnean urge to never be rude ever-ever-ever, Qaradoc almost stammered, but maintained a stiff lip. "Ah well-- perhaps a small bit for tea on the way back," he smiled reassuringly. A tentative hand slipped into her purse as he helped himself to a perfectly wrapped sandwich. 

"That is more like it. Such skin and bones!" The irony of her words wasn't lost on Qaradoc. "If my sandwich you eat maybe like me you won't look so much like!" She cast an expectant stare at Throrim, her motherly guilt-tripping machine aimed and loaded. 

Seo-yun just rolled his eyes.

Throrim simply shrugged, digging in and scarfing down a sandwich before putting another somewhere deep in his beard for later. Who knows where it went? "Many thanks lass, Good sammiches."

Chavivah beamed at Throrim as he gobbled it down, absolutely delighted that he reached for another to save for later. "Of course dear." She pointed a highly approving claw at Throrim, nodding at Qaradoc. "See that? There is a man who appreciates a good meal. Even with the heart attacks you must make your mother very happy," she nodded back at the dwarf. 

Qaradoc fidgeted with some discomfort. The annoyance on Seo-yun's face was so vibrant it was comical. Attempting to break some ice, Qaradoc lowered the sandwich into his satchel and spoke up again. "Well! This has been a surprising pleasure. And quite frankly... illuminating," he added sincerely. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Benesh, Mr. Seo-yun. And for the sandwiches, they look lovely." 

They both smiled. "Thank you again for the watch, and for stopping by,” Chavivah replied. “Should we ever have to defend our friends and family, I hope we never have to see each other on opposite sides of a battlefield. You're a mensch, and so are you," she glanced at Throrim. 

"Indeed, and thank you." Qaradoc paused. "So you defend your loved ones, but you don't fight for the Horde..." he murmured, more to himself. "I'm glad I met you. I suppose I have a bit of thinking to do. A quick recovery to you both."

"Aye, I'll put in a word with some folks. Yer both good in mah book." He smiled, bowed deeply once again, beard clinking against the floor. "Takes a lot to shake up this Gilnean bugger, and ya done did it. Thank ya for that." He chuckled, patting his friend roughly on the shoulder.

Qaradoc chuckled with him, shaking his head. He showed no sign of being jolted by Throrim's friendly blow.

"About ready to head back home then friend?"

"Aye, I think we've gotten the full monty and then some. Let's give these chaps some rest." Qaradoc bowed his head. "Tara." He turned to leave. 

Seo-yun offered a friendly grunt goodbye. "Good health to you!" Chavivah called after them.

Throrim nodded, flashing a bright smile. "Pleasure meetin' ya folks."

[shiredded]

A Predict of Text

a terrible horrible mishmash of beautiful words from @phantomrose96’s mp100 fic, A Breach of Trust

Written by a robot using a predictive text emulator, into which I fed the entirety of ABoT up to the current chapter, and then sat back and did my best to add in punctuation and try to steer it into some semblance of plot. I failed.

Unfortunately it looks like it didn't accept all the chapters into it’s algorithm but it’s something. it sure is something and you can write with it here! and instructions here.

I now present: APoT

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

The house and wall beneath Mob's feet groaned with the same two officers from the previous night. Exhaustion pulled like deadweight on every muscle in his body as the sun dipped lower. Tetsuo was probably fine, just a bit too fast to find out possessing people. It had been clear enough for any sign of life to be dead by 5:52 pm... But wandering roaches were easy to find in the darkness of the stairwell.

Mob's voice cracked with sweat. “You’re going to kill me tonight if you don't have your powers.”

" I guess you can't understand why you're going to die, holy shit! " tears erupted in Mogami's eyes every now and then.

A tiny smile flashed bright in Mob's heart, then closed in on darkness. " shishou, I don't like the extra trick you taught me. "

Mogami motioned Mob into the bush, his tone stroking across Mob's barrier. " You coulda killed me, though if you think you did, it wasn't your fault. " 

Mob’s brow scrunched into a scowl before he looked back at him. " listen to me holy fuck you know?-I’ve got a pretty good idea where you're going today! "

 Paralyzed in horror, shishou wasn't in danger himself, but nothing could ever take him down. Tetsuo, buddy, he could never breach the barrier. Mogami stabilized himself against the counter and waited out the silent seconds before letting the ice flash back to water. Anxiety edged back behind his teeth and tapped it against the underside of his feet. His mother never told him exactly when they gave him more barrier, but muscle could not overwhelm the thing he stared at, Mob. He swallowed, listening to the television going off the handle.

“Yeah something like that. Sorry about that one too. Possession is significantly creepier than it could be. “The woman officer Isa asked into the thing. The television volume was too strong for Mogami to handle, so he kept it scrunched down.

 “Why can't they kill you, shishou? “Mob asked.

 Fidgeting, Mogami raised his arms. “Oh my god! I've got ta be campbell's face, which is why- "

 Mob’s heart jumped into his throat. Relief poured like a snail across the pavement. " Celebrate... Or else. " He sharpened his hands in frantic spurts.

 " Whatever. " Mogami descended one step closer to the television.

 Campbell's soup cans rattled on ahead of him, permanently alive and healthy. Someone's voice was not going to say anything else, crumpled cans through the dusty television volume knob. Fingernails dug into his skin through the pajamas on his shoulder, Mob found a single cockroach among the filth and turned on his shishou.

" you better run now, Ritsu started to teach himself to take control of cockroaches, spiders, and roaches. It made things just slightly trained. " poison muttered from Mob's voice, and tapped down on mogami's heart.

 The thing walking around in Mob's fingers, cold terror in a single cockroach. Tiny movement caught Mob's eyes and he sheepishly smushed it against Mogami’s ears. It felt like eating anything living, but Mogami seemed to be dead.

 Twisting anxiety pulled back just as Mogami answered dismissively, " Mr. cocky wasn't something that able to get past my barrier! " Violently shivering, he flipped back on his heels as Mob stared.

 78 %

 Mob curled his hands into his pocket after that night, if shishou wasn't locked somewhere in the morning, campbells would-- be flushed into the street's. crying a few silent seconds, Mob raised his hand to shake the damp iciness of Mogami’s thin hand. " stabby is a very serious thing, shishou. "

Darting his eyes, Mogami asphyxiates and and- the basement became warm for a split second. He'd be campbell's voice no more.

 " I do what I must to survive, " Mob howled in a perfect voice.

 Mogami was forcibly cease to be. Missed somewhere in the next world beyond the foyer.

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

 Mob's elation sunk as his eyes traced its path from above his head. Nothing was shredding this time. It was fine.

 " oi! Knock it off! " another living being called to others.

" what did that mean? Yeah yeahi'll oh god. " the man twisted his body and prepared to deal with darkness, but that was not a psychic master at all! " you okay, kiddo? "

 Mob shook his head and waved it in wild ways. " my powers are impressionable, but shishou wasn't a good enough ghost. "

 the man did not shy away from Mob, eliciting glimmers and shimmering with the clean exhaustion. His face was thin and gaunt and flesh, a wonderful man who'd appeared at the doorway telling him to wake up. Parts of his façade were slick and smooth, deliberate smile, unbidden skirt swirling in the darkness. His eyes were impossibly wide as he watched the anxious kiddo that was alive.

 3/4 %

... the cockroach could muster just a few sympathetic greetings. " you know his corpse is still hanging in that house for 30 years? Why didn't someone come fetch him when it happened? How does that even make sense? "

Reigen leaned away from the accusation of the thing in Mogami’s chest. it was pink and oily, kind of dangerous. but it wasn't like it was the butcher, Mob had broken his shishou's neck and face: just as Mogami motioned toward the kitchen, for those cans to fight Mob.

 veins rose up and down Mob's barrier. " you should mind your own business, actually don't. "

 “uh shit im alive?” Reigen thought the kid would be shredded when he died. “you don’t want to stay here do you?” Reigen answered

 " oh. well no, not anymore. but I can't fix this thing, it would only get your hand shredding if you clawed at me, " Mob whispered into Reigen's battered fingers.

 Reigen drummed his fingers along his forehead and pulled back. His hands shook without eight paper packs every day, but they were still smiling and disaffected by the barrier.

 " I’m a psychic adventure man! Not a psychic master! You can't hurt someone alive. "

 Mob felt dizzy looking at him like he was a thing made of glass. " i'm not dangerous? "

 " no one came to get you away from him, that permanently dead evil spirit named Keiji. "

 Mob's greatest private investigator was around with a single cockroach on his shoulder. " his voice was loud against the man's name, Keiji. He felt actually dead, so he kept himself turned to Mogami. "

 Reigen watched transfixed once more. " first, he was dead and possessing Tetsuo. He didn't like that people were happily conned out of their spouses. anyway he gon up into silence down in danger. He isn't smiling any more. "

 Mob knew that sounded good. he swallowed compulsively, " I really hope my barrier becomes not dangerous so I can put those fears behind me. "

 Reigen straightened his back. " you're going to worry about being in club activities because you don't have to worry about being rejected or haunted out there in the world outside. "

 " oh. "

 Reigen tapped the barrier to not endanger him. " I understand why you're acting this way of course, but it's very rational to worry about being president when you hung that ghost thing in our closet- "

 Mob wrapped his arms around his body and prepared to deal with Tetsuo. " Ritsu Kageyama was 13 years old, I should sleep. " he flickered again and thrust his face into bed.

 " holy fuck you're doing something different. "

 Reigen glanced sidelong at the hanging body's eyes and shot quick droplets of holy water against it.  " yep. It was forbidden pods, the little bits of sunkissed beige he swallowed compulsively. "

Mob fumbled out of control, then nodded once to himself in front of the door. " I need to go home tonight, but he didn't like that. "

 Reigen answered simply, " today is different, Mob. "

[mazurah]

Clockwork City Main Quest Discussion

WARNING: Contains Spoilers!

Okay! The Clockwork City in Screenshots is completely posted, so it’s time to get into the lore! Here are my thoughts on the main quest.

The Good:

The graphics, the design, the art deco aesthetic; visually, the Clockwork City is everything I could have hoped for!

Kireth and Raynor are the most adorable siblings! I haven’t encountered them in the main game yet, but apparently they’re recurring characters. I look forward to finding them.

The Blackfeather Court is hilarious. I love them all. I also love that Nocturnal basically got defeated by a bunch of talking crows who got to Seht’s metal city and were just like, everything here is shiny! We must have it! And then went off to do their own thing.

Speaking of Nocturnal, I really liked the depiction of the Evergloam. We rarely get to see ingame depictions of the realms of Oblivion, and when we do, it’s always great. Nocturnal’s realm really seemed to fit her. It coulda been darker, but I understand why the game devs decided to make it twilight instead of straight up night for playability reasons.

Shadows as souls or pieces of souls is an interesting concept, and I wonder if it has something to do with Shadow Magic, like what Nightblades (the character class) use. I’m looking forward to doing some more research into the topic and cobbling together a more full understanding of what exactly shadows are in the TES universe. It’s not really something we get from any other game other than ESO, and I actually really like this contribution to TES lore.

Varuni has such a good character arc! She starts out as a fervent believer in Sotha Sil, and ends up being forced to confront her questions about him and grow as a person! Honestly, she has the best writing in the entire DLC, and she’s my favorite character! Here’s one of my favorite pieces of dialogue and an example of actual good writing in the Clockwork City:

Varuni: "He's gone, isn't he?"

Player: "Sotha Sil? Yes."

Varuni: "I knew it."

Varuni: "I never got to speak to him. Can you believe that? A hundred years of loyal service and then, poof. Gone."

Player: "What would you have said to him?"

Varuni: "Ha. You know, I spent years rehearsing exactly what I would say. I stood in front of the mirror, saying it over and over. Lord Seht, I stand before you as your loyal servant. Prayers of thanks, supplication... on and on."

Player: "And now?"

Varuni: "Now? Now I have nothing but questions.”

Varuni: "Why do we study in the basilica while people struggle on the streets? Why can't we have birds like the exodromals? How could Daedra break through our unbreakable walls? Why can't we leave?"

Player: "Do you think he'd have answers for you?"

Varuni: "I did yesterday. Today? I'm not so sure."

The Bad:

Oh my gods, what did they do to Sotha Sil? They’ve turned him into a faux-deep douchebro! This is my main problem with the Clockwork City DLC, and it’s a major one. They got him all wrong. I mean, he’s hard to understand because he’s Mystery, but at the very least Zenimax shoulda asked some of the original Morrowind lore writers for input or something, because it’s very obvious they had no idea how to handle him. In fact, this is so much of a problem that I feel the need to expound on the point. Here are a couple of excerpts of the most egregious writing:

I asked Sotha Sil about those persistent rumors—the ones about how he and the other Tribunes murdered Indoril Nerevar, the Dark Elf king. According to Marilia, the topic is strictly taboo. Even so, Sotha Sil answered my questions with a quiet grace that surprised even me.

"Why do you think things happen?" he asked. I told him I didn't understand the question.

"Why are we sitting here talking? Why does young Marius exist? Why do I reign over this place, while you convalesce within it?"

I sat quiet for a moment, then replied: "Because that's just the way it is."

His cold face melted into one of his solemn half-smiles. "Exactly."

I can't be sure, but it seemed like relief in his voice. His shoulders relaxed, his tone shifted—he had the look of a man at peace with his sins.

— Proctor Luciana’s Journal, Volume 1

Player: “What is all this for, anyway? The Clockwork City.”

Sotha Sil: “I sometimes ask myself the same thing.”

Sotha Sil: “May I confess something to you?”

Player: “Of course.”

Sotha Sil: “I suffer from a peculiar ailment. Shall I describe it?”

Sotha Sil: “I bear the cruel weight of certainty. Total, absolute, relentless certainty. People rarely comprehend the luxury of doubt... the freedom that comes with indecision. I envy you.”

Player: “Didn't you just say that you question whether the City is worth the effort?”

Sotha Sil: “Indeed. But such questions are flaccid—cursory indulgences that come and go in an instant.”

Sotha Sil: “The truth is that my actions, both good and evil, are inevitable. Locked in time. Determined by chains of action and consequence.”

Player: “So... you were forced to build the Clockwork City?”

Sotha Sil: “Compelled.”

— Game Dialogue with Sotha Sil

Okay first off, nothing is ever certain in the TES universe. There is no such thing as an omniscient god in the TES universe. Not even Hermaeus Mora, the Prince of Knowledge and Fate knows everything. Just look at how the Skaal managed to hide knowledge from him for generations. No god can predict the future with absolute certainty. Just read Azura and the Box, and you’ll see what I mean. In it, Azura, a god of prophecy who asserts that her knowledge is absolute, fails to predict what is in a box. Azura’s assertion that she knows everything is in character for her because she is also a god of vanity, but not so for Sotha Sil. Sotha Sil is not generally characterized as vain. As a person with godlike powers, he should be very much aware of the limitations of his knowledge and power, so the assertion that he can predict the future with absolute certainty is preposterous, and completely out of character.

If he knows everything, why the heck doesn’t he do something? He seems to have been taken by surprise by Nocturnal’s attack on the Clockwork City (as well as by all the events that took place in the Morrowind DLC with Vivec and stuff), so that doesn’t add up, but some of the dialogue from Aios implies that he realizes that Almalexia is a threat to him and he is taking countermeasures of some sort! It doesn’t make any sense! Gaah!

Anyway, moving on. More bad stuff:

It’s explicitly stated in multiple lore books that Sotha Sil and Almalexia are sexually involved. It’s also stated that Almalexia is Vivec’s lover and consort. That would seem to imply that Vivec and Sotha Sil were more involved than just “brothers” since they don’t seem to have any sort of jealous rivalry over Almalexia going on, and yet “brothers” is how Sotha Sil describes Vivec. That... doesn’t really make sense to me. At the very least they would be metamours, and quite likely more than that.

Sotha Sil does not just "quietly" admire Dwemer stuff. He’s blatantly copping and improving on the Dwemer’s inventions. That’s not bad btw, I like how they did that. The bad part is that Divayth Fyr, someone who supposedly knows Sotha Sil better than almost anyone, describes Sotha Sil as “quietly” admiring the Dwemer. He obviously has no idea what he’s talking about.

Sotha Sil’s feet. They gave him mechanical arms but not mechanical feet? Come on you guys! Get it together! He has mechanical feet in Morrowind, why not here? There’s so many great fan theories floating around about Sotha Sil’s feet, one of my favorite being by @boethiah, which speculates that he was injured as a child, and had to have his legs replaced so he could walk. Why not go with something like that? The lore strongly implies that Sotha Sil bypasses Vivec’s path to “true” godhood via CHIM and tries to find perfection through mechanical means. It stands to reason that he would have all mechanical limbs even if he didn’t have some sort of childhood accident requiring him to get prosthetics.

Slag Town. One of the things you can gather from the 36 Lessons and by listening to Almalexia talk about Sotha Sil is that Sotha Sil is an idealist when it comes to people. He thinks the best of them, and he is very hurt when people’s darker nature shows itself, which is one of the factors leading to his self isolation. (I wish I could remember specific sources for this, if anyone remembers something related, please post it.) With that in mind, I think he wouldn’t stand to have slums in his city. He cares about people too much. He wants them to succeed. If you read this lore book about Slag Town, it basically states that some of the people born down there don’t even know how to read. Sotha Sil, being the idealist he is, would obviously have a public education system in place. I don’t understand how writers who have read all the official resources available about Sotha Sil could think otherwise.

Why is Sotha Sil so obsessed with CHIM and Amaranth? That’s Vivec’s thing I thought. If he knows so much about it, why didn’t he achieve CHIM? He’s supposed to be taking a different path than Vivec, but his dialogue seems to be referencing back to Vivec’s path all the time. This would be alright if they added some Almalexia content as well showing her contribution to the Tribunal’s god-philosophies and uniting the Tribunal into a whole, but as it stands it just looks like Sotha Sil is a Vivec fanboy.

This is pretty unimportant, but Dunmer keep calling other Dunmer "dark elves". Just, why...? Only Men ever refer to mer as elves! This isn’t just a problem with the Clockwork City, but with ESO in general. Elves referring to other elves as elves instead of mer is just... weird.

I’m probably being pedantic, but why does everyone pronounce it "Sotha Seel" instead of "Sotha Sil", and "Div-AAAY-th" instead of "Div-EYE-th" or "Dee-VAH-yth"? It just irks me, almost as much as how they pronounced “Nerevarine” in the Morrowind DLC.

The Neutral:

Sotha Sil’s height. Sotha Sil is a giant in comparison to everyone else, even Altmer. He can’t possibly be this tall naturally. He’s probably just making himself appear taller because he thinks he’s supposed to, or possibly because he’s insecure about his height. It’s a strange character choice, and not one I really agree with, but also not one I disagree with either. So... meh?

Divayth Fyr was just... adequate. They got his friendship with Sotha Sil right, as well as his flaunting of authority, but they didn’t give him the booming, larger than life, generally genial-and-magnanimous-if-insensitive personality I’ve come to associate with Divayth Fyr (Dunmer-Brian-Blessed as @chameleonspell put it, click here if you haven’t seen Brian Blessed before.) So it’s just kind of... okay. They also established that Divayth Fyr was friends with Sotha Sil before Sotha Sil’s apotheosis, which would make him old enough to remember being Chimer. However, I was under the impression that he did not personally remember the War of the First Council, but I don’t really have any evidence to back this up, so if somebody has some Morrowind dialogue to help me out, that’d be great. It’s quite possible that this is a lore contradiction.

Sotha Sil’s depression. The way he’s depicted, he exhibits a lot of symptoms that make me think that he has some very profound depression going on. That honestly seems accurate to his character. It’s not necessarily a good or a bad thing, but it’s an understandable character choice.

The ‘I don’t know how to interpret this’:

The very short depiction we get of Nerevar just seems... off. @saltrices mentioned that there were some speculations going around on tumblr that Nerevar could have been part Ayleid or some other non-Chimer elf, and...

That’s the hologram of Nerevar, and the projection of the last Ayleid king. They’re wearing the same armor. Why? I have no idea. I don’t think the armor suits him. His height in comparison to Sotha Sil is certainly not accurate, but again, I think Sotha Sil is probably making himself appear taller because he thinks he should or something. In life, Nerevar was almost certainly the same height or taller than Sotha Sil. The height difference has more to do with how Sotha Sil is choosing to depict them both, and the armor choice could be as well, but I don’t think so. Sotha Sil is likely to depict Nerevar in armor he actually wore, which is why the armor choice is so strange. I’m not sure what to make of it.

TL:DR: I enjoyed the DLC. I disliked some of the writing, especially regarding Sotha Sil, but I like other parts of the writing. I had a lot of fun, and I found the DLC to be visually appealing, but I think that most of the “deep” lore that the DLC tried to add should, in general, be completely disregarded.

That’s my take, now I wanna hear everyone else’s! Reblog with what you thought was good, bad, neutral, or perplexing!

Many thanks to @talldarkandroguesome​ for running through the Clockwork City 1.5 times with me and for being my sounding board. 

Tagging those who were interested in participating: @ladynerevar @kapycta @sharmat-dreams @ratwhisperer @spoopy-eneko @kee413 @king-helseth @kagrenacs @annachibi @jurvektheblogsmer​ Anyone else who wants to is welcome to join as well!

[feifiefofum]

society is graded by its next generation, and frankly no one’s done the homework

look, pro-lifers are always going on about how we’re all grateful that our mums hadn’t aborted us. and the presumption of that to be fact is offensive to me.

look, every generation is supposed to be better than ones before it, but besides the window dressing of internet and smart phones, all i’m seeing is hate and oppression left and right. social inequality, financial inequality, we’re still beggaring nasa in the us along with the postal service, and we’ve the orange embarrassment in office instead of a lady and her first man. 

so frankly, no, i’d much rather my mom didn’t have me. the previous generation didn’t fight enough for a more equitable future, and in my cynical estimation, it’s not coming around anytime soon. so, i’d rather not have any children to show the sloppy, slapdash, embarrassing society we’ve mashed into one and think is perfectly presentable. 

it’s an eyesore, created by a few wealthy assholes, who then distract us with racism so we don’t go revolution on their asses. 

oh, did i mention that bigotry was still a thing? the stupidest thing since fighting and killing over imaginary things (gods, ideologies, honor, money) still exists. and in case that’s still not enough, our lives are run by numbers on a screen. the stock market? we made that up. it somehow runs our lives now, and the economy. which is something we also invented.

i don’t want to hear about some asshat with a business degree telling me about the economy. it’s all made up. you can predict the economy as well as you can predict meme culture. you don’t know where it’ll go, and they definitely didn’t predict covid.

we coulda listened to doctors and scientists, but we don’t. and that’s just beyond embarrassing. like i’m breathless with disbelief, dismayed.

like i would not be surprised if the universe slung an extinction meteor at earth, we’d wring our hands over sending up rockets to stop it because of the economy. or just not even believe the fucking evidence.

so frankly, i’m just not confident this is a world i’m comfortable bringing progeny into.

[lavender-montgomery]

Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark (2019) - Thoughts [SPOILERS]

So I finished watching this movie about 51 seconds ago. I was very excited for this film when it was first announced. I only read one of the books when I was a kid and I don’t remember it, I was more a Goosebumps and Pointe Horror kid, however I was still excited. I saw the trailer I believe before Annabelle: Creation when I went with my friend, and we vowed to go see it in the cinema. Spoiler: We didn’t go see it in the cinema. I completely forgot. This was August 2019. It is now March 2020 and I have only just remembered, so I watched it for free online. Don’t tell the police. I’m kinda glad I didn’t pay to go see it, although I do feel it woulda been better in the cinema environment with the surround sound. If you’re watching this on a computer I 10/10 recommend wearing headphones/earphones. I put mine in half way through and it improved it greatly, even when my laptop was on full blast. 

So the film starts and immediately I notice it’s set in the past when President Nixon was a thing, so correct me if I’m wrong but I believe that was early 70s. I dunno, I’m British and don’t know much about American history. It also begins on Halloween - excellent, we’re off to a great, spooky start already. A touch I appreciated was the Halloween costumes the cast were wearing. Home made costumes of a spider, a clown and a witch. Loved them, kids don’t wear stuff like that anymore. I’d love to have costumes like that. So it starts off with the three main characters getting revenge on some bullies - pretty standard. One character annoys me when he takes it too far by throwing a bag of poop lit on fire into the bully’s car - which his big sister is sat in. Oops. Can’t help but judge this character already as that was pretty stupid. Didn’t bother me that much though as I’d forgotten about it until going over my notes just now. The kids hide in someone’s car at a drive thru, in comes the fourth main character, Ramone. That’s another thing I loved, the drive thu showing a black and white horror film on Halloween night, all of the old cars pulled up. That’s a rare thing nowadays, I think in the twelve years I have lived here I’ve only seen one drive thru - and I have kept an eye out always as I’ve wanted to go to one since seeing Greece when I was a kid. 

Obviously the kids make the stupid decision to go to the town’s creepy house that has a scary story attached to it. What else would they do? And also obviously they find a secret door no one has ever found so OBVIOUSLY they have to go through it and get locked in by the bullies. Duh.

I noticed this movie has a very dark colour scheme. I get that adds to the spookiness, but damn I’d like to be able to see what’s going on every once in a while. I kept adjusting my laptop and moving the screen but to no avail. 

What’s the scary story, you ask? There was a family who lived there who had a daughter named Sarah who killed a load of kids in the town who then killed herself. Please note the whole plot of the movie revolves around Sarah’s book of scary stories that come true and kill kids, and she writes in it in the afterlife. I was a bit confused about if this book killed kids before the movie was set and it was a known thing, or if it happened for the first time in this movie. I THINK it supposedly happened before but I can’t say for certain - I was texting when this was spoken about, my bad. 

Something that had me frowning was when they went into this secret room that was supposedly locked for a hundred years... The candles were lit. Why? How? I didn’t see any of the kids light the candles, but there they were, lit and burning bright as anything. Like I mentioned, they get locked in this room along with their big sister by the school bully they through the firey poop at. But the book sets them free. Somehow. 

Come to think of it, it must be known that the book has killed kids as they mention it. Silly me. So nerd girl Stella continues to read after being told it kills kids... Stella, are you thick? Characters like that drive me mad. She even took the book home. Dumb ass. Then again, she is a huge horror fanatic as her bedroom is plastered in horror film stuff, and she’s a mega nerd, so how could she not take the book? I would. It’s a bit spooky when she’s looking at the book later on and it isn’t finished and ink is still wet as it’s still being written. Reminded me of in Harry Potter.

I started to suspect this movie would be like the Goosebumps movies. It was more what the Goosebumps movies shoulda been - no offense to those movies or the cast, I just feel they were aimed at an audience younger than the book audience both old and new. 

The first monster we saw was the scarecrow. He was a bit creepy. I realised all the monsters in it are targeting specific kids with their worst fear. ‘You don’t read the book, the book reads you.’ The scene with the scarecrow made me think of umm I think it was called In The Tall Grass on Netflix, because of the dark corn field, the sound of the plants in the wind and the fact he couldn’t get out of the field. What I don’t get when the bully Tommy died, he turned into a scarecrow - why was this scarecrow not found? It still looked like him. 

Ruth. Ruth is one of the kid’s big sister. She’s beautiful. Not much to say on her really, she wasn’t in it THAT much. But she was incredibly pretty. 

I liked the part where Stella took the book back to the house then when she went home, Ramone found it in her bedroom. It was a bit cliche but it worked. 

The next monster we saw was a scary ghostly figure missing her toe. The kid this ghost was targeting stupidly hid under his bed while the door was being opened then only seconds later he emerged. Suprise surprise he was taken/killed. I’d be under that bed all night if it was me, stuff coming out seconds after the door is opened. He did a quick look left and right then that was it. Made me feel a bit grim when he almost ate this ghost’s toe in the stew in the fridge. Bit of background: the ghost walks around saying ‘who took my toe’ as the toe is missing off her/his body. Not sure why. I’m sure there was a reason why this kid was scared of this monster but I don’t remember it and for some reason I didn’t take note. Feel free to let me know and I’ll add it on. 

The next monster we saw wasn’t really a monster, it was spiders. A lot of them. Which, to be honest, is the worst one of all the horror characters as I am extremely terrified of spiders. The sister Ruth had them all crawling out of a ginourmous zit/spider bite on her face. It’s quite sad that she’s hospitalised for her breakdown and is absent for almost the whole rest of the movie. I quite liked her, woulda liked for her to be in it more. The scene where she’s covered in spiders reminded me of one of my psychosis hallucinations that I have bugs all over my body, hundreds of them running over me - before anyone asks, yes, it is scary. 

So for some reason there’s a character called Lulu who is an old lady who I think is blind and she’s a bit off her rocker. When she was a child she was friends with Sarah. She didn’t really do much for the story. The only benefit was they found out Sarah killed herself at hospital not at home, but I’m sure they coulda discovered that elsewhere. It’s a shame as she was a very interesting character. It was a bit creepy when the music box just like Sarah’s starts playing and Lulu sings along, then when Sarah’s book is shown the music stops. 

The sad part about Sarah is her family had her sent to the hospital and they lied about everything. Her own brother was her doctor, giving her electroconvulsive therapy and abusing her. No wonder she came back and killed a load of kids, she was put through a lot in her childhood when she was completely innocent, she wanted to help. She didn’t do anything she was accused of. In voice recordings of her interview she kept saying ‘I didn’t do it’ and you could hear her get electrocuted. This made me so sad, I really felt for her. She tried to save the kids by telling people what her family were doing to the water, so her family framed her. Tragic. It was a bit creepy when after this part, the recording they were listening to then spoke to them saying ‘I’ll tell you what you want to hear’. One of the creepiest parts of the film, sadly. 

The next monster we saw was the fat pale lady. She was a bit creepy and weird, my favourite monster out of all of them. She didn’t really do much, though. But her design was cool. The costume was so well done, she was chilling and realistic. The teen she was after couldn’t run away, no matter which way he turned she was there. I’ve had a nightmare similar to that, so the scene gave me a bit of anxiety. She looked how I imagined Umbridge in the Harry Potter books before she was in the movies. 

Broke my heart a little when the girl Stella was on the phone to her dad. He was so worried and wanted to help but he couldn’t. You could tell he really loved her, especially after everything they’ve been through what with the mum leaving. 

It took me ages to catch on - each monster/story is of the victim’s worst fear. 

Next monster was the Jangly man. He was also very well done. The way he moved was unnatural and creepy. I feel they overdone the dead look and sound effects but that’s okay. He was truly disturbing. I loved how he managed to squeeze between the bars in the police cell to get to Ramone. Also loved how he could dismember himself and put him back together. 

I appreciated how the film wasn’t reliant on jump scares like something I watched recently *cough* Brahms: The Boy II *cough*. The monsters in this mighta scared me if I was a young kid. 

So it ends with the girl Sarah who was writing the stories was doing it for revenge, and Stella talks her into stopping. Predictable ending but it worked. I liked when Stella became Sarah back in the past when she was locked up and they didn’t know she wasn’t Sarah. When Stella was locked in the basement, everything went back to normal and she was Stella gain. The creepy music box played again and Sarah appeared, angry. I felt the acting in this scene wasn’t great, it was like watching a year eleven GCSE drama duologue. 

When Ramone was drafted and he said goodbye to Stella, they shown that they had feelings but they didn’t kiss which I am glad about. That would have been a very cheesy ending to the movie. 

Is there going to be a sequel? It ended with Stella, Ruth and dad going on a hunt with the book as Stella thinks the book can bring back all the kids that went missing due to the stories. Will it work? Maybe in another movie? I kinda hope not. I most likely won’t watch it, this movie wasn’t good enough for a sequel. The script and cast were meh, the plot was eh, I’m rating it a 4/10 and that’s being generous. Wouldn’t recommend to others especially adults and I won’t be watching again - I am so glad I didn’t pay to go to the cinema to see this.

[thefanfichotspot]

eight

“Nigga, you gotta chill,” Axel grumbled from my left, biting back his grin as he shook his head. “Them niggas can probably hear your leg bouncin’ and shit.”

I shot him a look and shook my head. “Aight, aight. But how long we gotta wait? We coulda been taken care of this shit by now.” My palm was already sweaty around the handle of the pistol resting in my lap. I peered out his windshield at the warehouse a good distance away from his parked car. “Let's just go and shoot the first two.”

“You've never shot a gun before, have you?” he asked flatly. When I shook my head, he rolled his eyes. “You're way too eager to use it, that's how I know. You shouldn't want to use it. You shouldn't be okay with killin’ someone. That shit is foul as fuck.”

“The fuck you expect from me, Axel? They could be in there, and we’re sittin’ here with our thumbs up our asses,” I shot back. “The longer we wait, the less time they have.”

He huffed as he screwed his suppressor onto the barrel of his gun. Our attire matched down to the color of our shoes - black. We wore gloves, hoods, and wore shoes that weren't our sizes. We wanted to leave no traces of us ever being there, but still make a point.

“You see them niggas right there?” He was growing impatient, which was irritating me. He pointed through the windshield at the two guards waiting outside the entrance of the spot. “They determine whether we make it out alive. If Spyder and the rest of his men notice that they're dead, they'll put bullets in our heads before our next breath.”

“That's why we have suppressors,” I cut in.

“You don't get it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “They have bluetooths in their ears. You don't think them other niggas will hear if they suddenly just fall out?”

“So what the fuck you expect us to do?” I snapped at him. “We have the bag full of money. We shoot them, find Spyder and hand over the money, and they take us to Cam and the baby.”

“That's best case scenario.” I didn't want to admit that he was right. “Worst case scenario is they shoot us on the spot and no one makes it out alive. We’re already at a disadvantage because you're hurt, just chill the fuck out.”

“Do we have time to chill the fuck out?!” I ground my teeth together and gripped the gun in my grasp. “This is my daughter and her mother.” I pushed my car door open and stood, tucking my gun in my waistband. “Fuck it, I'm going.”

“Trigga!” he shouted. “Trig, nigga wait!” I heard him close his car door and the patter of his footsteps against the gravel as he followed me, but I didn't care. I was going in there whether he followed or not. It was dark outside, and we were wearing black, so getting close to the warehouse was a little easy. The closer I got, I began to hear the music playing within the walls. It was extremely loud, as it always was, so taking down the two guards might not have been as hard as predicted.

I readied my weapon, aimed at his forehead, when Axel shoved my arm. “Nigga are you fuckin’ dumb?”

“Leave me the fuck alone,” I said. “I'm doin’ this.”

“Not without us.”

I turned to look at him and found J coming up behind us, without a weapon. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you -”

“I'm here to make sure my goddaughter and her mother make it out alright.” He grabbed my shoulder. “I really need you to listen to me, aight? If we’re gonna do this, we do it my way.” I could only nod, and Axel circled us to keep an eye out. “Axel and I are gonna handle most of this shit. Follow us around back. There's no guards back there and they won't hear us sneak up on ‘em. Can you do that?”

I swallowed hard, nodded and handed him my gun. He tucked it away and turned to Axel. They spoke about something but I didn't care to listen. I wanted to get this over with. I wanted my daughter in my arms. I wanted Cam and I to watch her sleep in her bassinet. I wanted us to be a family.

I had no idea what they were gonna do until I watched in horror as they snatched up the men from behind and wrapped their arms around their necks. The men fought and writhed, but surprisingly it took a few seconds for them to fall limp. Axel and J laid their bodies down and looked up at me.

“Relax, it's just a sleeper hold,” Axel assured with a grin. “Buzz Kill over here wants to do this shit with as few deaths as possible.” He snatched the bluetooths from their ears and stomped on them with his boot. “Ready when you are, Simba.”

Maybe I wasn't ready for this. Axel handed me the duffle bag of money, and up until this point I had no idea he had even grabbed it from the car. J pushed the doors open and I brought up the rear. Carrying the bag caused me some pain but I had to stay focused.

We easily made it past the drunken bastards with no problems and came up on his office door. J let us in, and there he was sitting at his desk with a Cuban cigar painting the air around him with clouds of smoke. He grinned widely upon seeing us, and I regretted giving J my gun. I wanted to blow his brains out. “You're late, Trigga. Boys, come in.”

“Where are they?” I croaked, and my allies kept me behind them. “You want your fuckin’ money? Here. You can have that shit. B-But I want my girls.”

He snapped his finger, and a man stepped from the shadows to snatch the bag from my hand. We watched him bring it behind the desk and he began to count it. I wanted so badly to wring his neck, that I could actually see myself doing so. Just jumping across his desk and slamming his head into the concrete flooring until his brain spilled through the cracks of his skull. Or maybe I would gouge out his eyeballs with his own thumbs and shove them down his throat until he chokes.

J nudged me to see me if I was even listening, which I wasn't. “Huh? What?”

“You're three hours late. You have a choice. Cam, or your daughter.” All three of us stared at him in disbelief. “This is me being generous. Choose wisely.”

“I'll fuckin’ kill you!” I lunged for him, trying my hardest to shove Axel and J out of my way and Axel gripped my arms. “No get the fuck off me!”

Spyder sat, chuckling.

“Aye, chill!” Jermaine tugged me away from Axel’s grasp and held the back of my neck to lock eyes with me. “Look at me, Trig.” He stroked the side of my head with his thumb slowly, and my eyes flashed to his, blurring with so much anger and self-loathing. “If he's giving you a choice, that means they're alive.”

“What happens to the one I don't choose?” I asked quietly, not taking my eyes off J.

“You wanna find out?”

I yanked towards him and J’s hold on me tightened to the point where his nails were digging into my skin. I wasn't sure if he was keeping me from killing Spyder, or if his hold on me was keeping himself still.

“You got your money. What's the problem, man?” Axel snorted.

“The problem is, there are rules. And when you don't follow the rules, there has to be consequences. That's how things run smoothly around here.” He leaned back in his chair after dipping his cigar in his ashtray.

“What if he goes to his daughter, and I go to Cam?” Axel suggested without thinking and both J and I stared at him. “I'm assumin’ they're at different places, which doesn't make a lick of sense. But hey, you're the boss.”

Spyder glanced at me with intrigue, leaning forward like he couldn't wait to hear my answer. “Is that what you want?”

“How do I get them back? I want them to come home.”

“That's up to you. What are you willing to give?”

“I have to buy them from you?!” I growled in disgust. “Are you outta your damn mind? I'm not paying you for two human beings. You're fuckin’ sick.”

“Time is ticking,” he cooed, taunting me.

“No one gets hurt?” I clarified. “Simba comes with me. Axel goes to Cam.”

“Or do you want to go to Cam and have him go to the baby?” he quipped.

I squeezed my eyes shut - I didn't know what I wanted. “Why aren't they in the same place?”

“Ah, but who said they weren't?”

“Ah!” I groaned as my side began to throb with my intensifying breath. I doubled over and panted, my swollen-shut eye forming a heartbeat of agony. I wanted to cry, right here in front of all three of them. I wanted all of this to be over, but would it ever be over? Let's face it. I would never be able to live this down, no matter the outcome. Whether they were both alive, both dead, or one dead - it wouldn't matter. I would have to live with that.

It was silent, but I heard so many voices at once telling me to do different things. I wanted to throw up, but I swallowed the bile creeping up the back of my throat. I felt hot and cold all at once, and deep in my gut I knew something wasn't right.

“D-Deal!” I finally shouted. “I want to go to my daughter, but she comes home with me and Simba. Cam leaves with Axel. You have your money, and that's all you're gonna get.” I glared at him. “You don't comply, you don't get your money. I find them anyway and we leave. I'll make sure you never find us.”

He grinned, and for a second it was a proud smile across his face. He mulled it over for a moment before nodding his head and snapping his fingers again. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

And just like that, our lights went out before we could even try fighting his men off.

/.\

Blinking hurt; breathing hurt even more. Even trying to move my finger to get my blood circulating again sent a streak of pain rippling down my spine. I had no idea where I was, or how much time has passed by. But I wasn't alone, Jermaine was right next to me - still unconscious.

“J,” I rasped painfully and slightly nudged his arm. He flinched. “J, come on.” I looked over at him to see dried blood under his nostril, and a purple bruise along his cheekbone. “J, it's me.”

He moved his head, a deep groan emitting from the back of his throat. He looked just as bad as me. I knew we would never hear the end of it from Melissa, and my mother.

“Remind me to beat your ass when this shit is over,” he mumbled as he pried his eyes open. He tucked his arm to his side and sat up slowly. “You ain't ever goin’ back to the joint, you hear me?”

I nodded.

“Nah, I need words. Do you hear me?”

I glanced down, nodded. “I hear you.” I struggled to my feet, and offered a hand to help him up. “Where the hell are we?”

“Don't know.” His eyes met mine and he patted his pockets. “They took the gun.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets and grasped my phone. “So they take the gun, but leave our phones? Dumb ass niggas.” I let my eyes dance around the room to take in our surroundings; looked like some kind of apartment. An old couch speckled with holes and stains and a single cheap coffee table. It smelled like roaches. “This must be a safe house.”

I watched as he headed for the dark hallway while I called Axel. There weren't any windows in the living room, so it was kinda gloomy. “Fuck, man.”

“This brings back memories,” he chuckled weakly into the phone. “Can't even move. I'm in some parking lot.”

“You got your weapon?” I felt so bad that I had to bring the two of them into my mess but I appreciated their loyalty.

“Nah.”

“Aight, lemme figure out where we are and I'll send you my location. Aight? Hang tight.” He grunted in response and I hung up so I could switch apps. I shared my location with him and sighed. He needed medical attention, and I had no clue how far away we were from him.

“Aight, let's head out. Ain't nothin’ here. They psyched us out,” he grumbled and I followed him to the door. He tugged it open and the softest murmur sounded from behind us. The two of us froze up and he looked at me over his shoulder. “Did you -”

I swallowed hard. “Y-Yeah.”

“I just looked through the entire spot and I ain't see shit.” I couldn't will myself to move, so he brushed past me and retraced his steps down the hallway.

I began to sweat when the murmurs turned sour, they warped into a whine. A small whine, from a baby. An infant.

My newborn daughter.

“Oh, shit!” was what put me into a sprint down the hall to see where he was. He was bent over the drawer in a dresser, sheets and blankets spilling out over the edge. “I swear I didn't -”

I turned him out as I took a step forward. I didn't want to peek over his shoulder to see my newborn, defenseless daughter lying in that drawer. I didn't want to see how small and pale she was, how scared and uncomfortable she was in a damn dresser drawer.

But I had to.

“Is that…” I choked on the rest of my sentence. “N-No.”

J’s lips were moving but I couldn't hear anything. I was suddenly underwater, looking up at him as he watched me above the surface. His words muffled, got lost in the waves as I fought to pull myself up. I couldn't breath, like my lungs were filling up with water.

My nose began to burn.

“She's…” I spun around and buried my face in my hands as I began to panic with thoughts of where Cam could be and how this all played out. “I - we need to go!”

J gripped my arm as I tried to make an escape and he huffed. “Aye, look at me.” He squeezed and I met his eyes. “Come on, man. Look at me.” When I met his eyes, my own blurring with hurt, his eyes were soft, genuine. “She is alive, and she needs her father. You can't neglect her like this. We’ll find Cam, but your daughter needs you too.”

I nudged be towards the drawer and patted my shoulder while my baby continued to fuss. Her skin flushed pink with exhaustion, and her tiny legs were kicking up a storm in a tantrum. A empty bottle rested near her foot with a piece of paper taped to it with some writing; I could barely reading the handwriting:

Nyla Rose

9/10/17

11:56pm

“Nyla,” I cooed to her softly and touched her thigh. She seemed to startle. “H-Hi… baby girl…”

I fit my hands under her body and lifted her with ease. She wore a plain white onesie, a pink hat, and pink socks and mittens. She fit so perfectly in the crook of my arm and I held onto her like my life depended on it.

I couldn't even reach up and wipe my eyes because I didn't want to disturb her. She settled into my grasp like she already knew me.  She trusted me.

“We gotta go, aight?” He used his sleeve to wipe my face, and he smiled at me. “Let's go find her mom.”

He grabbed the pack of diapers and wipes he found tossed to the side and nodded at me as I headed for the door. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I only checked to see if it was Axel - and it was.

3:28am [Axel]

oh shit!

I know that place. I grew up there

[crystal-lillies]

Tag Post

I was tagged by my good friend @kimlypso

Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better.

-Nickname: Ama, Lily, Flower, Amiko, V, PG, Tori, Mousey/Mousy (occasionally still, not as much) -Starsign: Sagittarius (/Capricorn, I’m a weirdo who also likes to look depending on predicted/scheduled dates too) -Height: 5′6″ -Last thing I googled: can I play games bought in uk on my us device (turns out, 3DS games are too region locked. looks like I have to wait for USuMo til Christmas) -Fave music artist:  Coldplay/Fall Out Boy/Owl City -Song stuck in my head: Something Just Like This (my mom loves it and it plays all the time on the radio hgshsd) -Last movie I watched: Racing Stripes, technically. I listened to the whole movie last night from the other room, and I’d watched it enough growing up to visualize everything. (If we’re going by actually watching, I think it might be Holes) -Last TV show I watched: F.R.I.E.N.D.S. -When did you create your blog: about??? two and a half years ago?? around January of 2015.  -What kind of stuff do I post?: writing stuff, personal stuff, flowers, space, gemstones, art/friend art, memes, all kinds of fandoms that I list here -Do you have any other blogs: yes! one other that I had lowkey started alongside @ghoststrawberries in October of 2014 as a TWEWY OC RP blog that’s on and off with activity. You can check it out here. -Do you get asks regularly?: not particularly. i’m open to receiving asks anytime! The ones I do get I appreciate. I try to spice up my chances with ask memes every so often. -Why did you choose your URL?: i know i explained this before and i don’t feel like rewriting it-- lemme just: “The most obviously simple answer I can put is that I like gemstones and I like flowers so boom bam mash em up and you got a url! The longer answer? well it’s a bit of the first one, but then, my (rarely used) deviantart and (working on lots of things) Fanfiction.net accounts both used the same username and it’s the nerdiest thing I coulda come up with when I made them pre-8th grade because I was super over the top obsessed with D.N.Angel (and it still holds a firm spot in my heart) and while I had the urge to do something that nerdy or fandomy and emblazon a particular fandom interest from the get go- like I had done before- I stopped and looked back and decided that I wanted this to be a fresh step so I tried something different. and voila! crystal-lillies!” 

-Fave colour: either cerulean or pink carnation.  -Average hours of sleep: 5-9, depending on the night. -Lucky number: I’ve had recurring associations with the number 14 growing up. and I like to think 7 as well. So 7 and 14 I guess. -Fave characters: god there’s no end to this list so for now I’ll say Merlin, Stitch, Tony Stark, Sakura Kinomoto, Clark Kent, Kim Possible, Dick Grayson, Jack Frost, and Dark Mousy. that’s a good enough mix -How many blankets do you sleep with? Depends on the season. Right now, about 1, since it’s really hot and I’ll sleep with light pajamas, but in the winter I pile on as many soft blankets I can stand with fuzzy pajamas.  -Dream job: Published author and screenwriter -Following: 52 (yes I know it’s a small number but the people I follow post a lot and it’s enough for me)

I don’t feel like tagging anyone, at aLL right now, especially not 20 people I’ll have to search through my followers/following list for so, I’ll nod in @celty-sturluson , @skybluescarf , @wolfish , @ghoststrawberries , @maybe-jayy ‘s direction???? again you don’t have to if you don’t want to. and then @anyone else who wants to do this.