#Poor gal is my one not a complete monster

[breannasfluff]

Samantha Manson,

My teacher says that we must continue our correspondence. While she will not read our letters, she is trying to stretch the assignment longer. I suspect she is drinking in the evenings to deal with her life choices rather than creating lesson plans. 

People treat me as special because I am special. That’s all there is to it. You are a fool if you don’t embrace the rights life has given you.

Amity Park? That sounds like a backwater in the countryside. What is your exercise, running away from cows? Not that cows are bad creatures, mind you. It’s only that I heard the hillbillies go cow-tipping for recreation. That seems like an activity you could do. 

Painted nails would never ruin my image, only enhance it. 

Ah, name-calling, the most childish insult in the book. Some of us have more experience in nine years than others do in 20. Just look at Gotham’s vigilantes!

Sincerely,

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne

~~~

Damian-stick-up-his-rich-butt-Wayne,

If no one is reading these then I don’t have to hold back.

Okay, listen here you brat: teachers are underpaid and have to put up with little monsters like you. No wonder your poor teacher is drinking; I’m not even legal and talking to you makes me want to start. 

Hate to burst your bubble, buddy, but people only pretend to care about you because of your money. You lose that and what’s left? Some snobby little rich boy clinging to his daddy’s coattails because he has no personality outside his money and position. 

You’re so right, Damian! All my life I thought I lived in a fairly normal Midwest town, but you’ve shown me the error of my ways! I’m just a little country gal out here collecting eggs and chewing on wheat. Ugh. You probably poach endangered animals on vacation and wear baby fox pelts when the temperature dips below 60. 

I bet you are too chicken to paint your nails to say ROBIN SUCKS in purple glitter for the next formal event you attend. 

Gotham’s vigilantes? Don’t even get me started on Nightwing! He’s the worst of the group. If you look up “trying too hard” in the dictionary, his photo is there. He doesn’t even take his job seriously! Why else would he move to a different city? Couldn’t compete with Batman and just had to be in the spotlight. It’s like those pop stars that go solo and fall flat on their face. 

Man, how embarrassing. I think I actually feel sorry you have to claim that guy as one of your heroes. He does have a nice ass though, so it’s not a complete dumpster fire.

Also, stop calling me Samantha.

It’s Sam.

Sam

Find the rest here

[myrkar]

What survived is not kind

[1358456]

Short - Hot Tips

Asking a senior Dex Holder for dating tips? What could go wrong?!

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

Crystal stared with half open eyes, looking extremely disappointed at the choices made by the boy in front of her. The boy himself still looked cheerful and excited, as if he didn’t know what was going wrong.

“… Let me get this straight,” Crystal said, not even concealing the disappointment in her voice. “So you’re here in Johto on a trip with White, but you don’t know where to go and what to do for your date. And so you want some help, and… your genius plan was to ask Gold.”

“Yeah!” Black said excitedly.

Crystal pinched the bridge of her nose. “… You could not have picked a-”

“-better person!” Gold finished for her proudly. “You came to the right guy, dude. And you know what? I know just the place. Let’s go!”

Crystal let out a long sigh before reluctantly following the two fools. “… Ugh. Here we go again…”

…

Gold stood in front of a restaurant and turned to face Black. “This is it. This is the place for any date!”

Crystal recognized the place and rolled her eyes. “Oh. This one…”

Black read the ad on the front. “A noodle place? Huh.”

“This place has a special menu item,” Gold explained. “It’s called the Doom Dish, and your meal for the day is completely free if you finish it. Now, while it’s delicious and all, it’s also insanely spicy. As in, it’s a whopping 500 times spicier than the spiciest sauce used in food.”

“Five hundred times?! Holy crap!” Black exclaimed.

“That’s right. Even the most hardcore, spice-hardened bastards flee in terror at the smell of this behemoth. No one’s ever finished the whole thing.” Gold put an arm around Black’s shoulders. “Now, imagine what Bossy Gal would think if she watched you challenge this monster, and conquer that beast right in front of her eyes! Think how much she’ll be impressed!”

Black gulped as he imagined White cheering him on and her awed expression. “… I see…”

Crystal sighed and stepped in front of him. “And what would happen when the noodle wins? You’ll be a mess! On a date! Come on. You’ve been through so much with her already. You don’t need to do anything special. Just take her somewhere nice.”

Gold huffed a bit. “Come now. You certainly enjoyed it when we came here.”

“For a different reason,” Crystal pointed out. “I rather enjoyed watching you lose that fight and finally suffer the consequences of your reckless actions. But I’m not going to just stand by and watch you drag yet another innocent victim in your desire for vengeance.”

“… You just don’t understand, Crys.”

Black nodded. “I’ll do it! I’ll give it my best shot!”

Gold patted him on the back. “That’s the spirit, kid! Be a man!”

Crystal narrowed her eyes. “… Seriously?”

Black checked his Xtransceiver. “Miss President should be finishing her advertisement in half an hour or so, and when she’s done, I’m definitely bringing her here! Then I guess I should go and pick her up! Thanks for the advice!”

Gold waved as Black ran off into the distance while Crystal just slowly shook her head.

“Good luck, dude,” Gold said proudly.

“… Poor kid…”

[yandere-fics]

Anon that wanted our ocs to interact ✋

This is my girly Ame

She has her own little story but I like to imagine that if she lived in the same universe as the city yandere's, she would have accidentally agreed to a contract with Sawyer.

Ame is classified as a dangerous being and anomaly that could potentially grow as strong as a God despite having a human body. This makes her a threat so she's usually is hunted down by divinities. She used to look human but now that she's older and more stronger, Ame is beginning to gain strange body growths.

Poor girly accidentally agreed on a contract with Sawyer due to desperation for survival at the time they met. She has no negative view on Sawyer or anyone really. She just does her own thing most of the time.

Ame has no interest in having a darling but you could consider her as a yandere. She's a top btw. Suffers from an inability to be a sub due to ego 😔 (although with stronger people, she gets more obedient).

She may give off tall vibes but Ame is 5'1. Her heels makes her 5'5. Her tail is a bud at the tip and can split open, revealing a stinger. It's venomous. (Imagine having tail sex with Ame but you can't even enjoy it because of the thought that she's gonna stab you with that stinger lol). Very expressionless gal but she's actually pathetic as hell. Her patheticness is why she's wary of being herself with someone.

Ame also has a complete monster form and is probably the same size as Sawyer when in it. Do what you want with that information 👀

Some of the info of her is from her original story so just ignore it if it doesn't fit yours :)

Also, sorry for the slight nsfw.

omg i love the idea that there's just one people in Sawyer's big office who isn't a yandere and is just so tired that everyone else in the office is either a darling or a yandere.

[avionvadion]

Shark prince? SHARK PRINCE!!!! 

Haven’t completely figured out the backstory yet, but basically Iliana winds up in Hyrule with little to no idea how she got there or even where she is. She thinks she’s an elf at first because of the ears, and it isn’t until she nearly gets killed by monsters and drowning- encountering a woman named Mailen/Maiju who fishes her out of the river, that she learns she’s in Hyrule. Something Iliana... both does and doesn’t know anything about. 

Mailen/Maiju is a Sheika who grew up in Gerudo, by the way. She’s a weapon merchant and bladesmith, and learned the fighting style of the Gerudo women. So she’s overall a pretty tough gal. Her design may change- so don’t get too attached to this version of her just yet, lol. Mailen is her Sheika name and Maiju her Gerudo name. She tends to go back-and-forth between the Gerudo, Rito, and Zora regions frequently. She’s on pretty good terms with the Zora, and laments not being able to visit after the Divine Beast Ruta starts acting up. 

After she saves Iliana, she drops her off in Hateno- a nearby village. There Iliana basically becomes the weird yet charismatic farmhand to one of the Hylians that take her in, and she gets proper clothes and learns how to shoot a bow. One day, when sent off on a hunting mission, she gets lost (Iliana is, like, really bad with directions. It’s chaotically bad) and she winds up in a monster camp. She takes down quite a few of them, before getting chased and falling in the nearby stream. Again. Poor girl can’t swim. 

So she clings to a rock and Link shows up just in time to stop the last few remaining monsters from killing her, and she ends up following him around because... well, she doesn’t know the way back to the village and hey! She has a bow! She can shoot things! She can be helpful... kind of. 

But she does end up being really helpful and they form a very sibling-like dynamic where they’re constantly bickering yet always protecting one another. Link in the form of sassy eyerolls and faces and snappy gestures, and Iliana just being herself, lol. She actually ends up being the better archer out of the two of them, which she refuses to admit to, despite Link stating so several times to Sidon and even Maiju. 

(In this, he doesn’t really like to talk because he finds it overwhelming and too noisy at times, so he prefers sign language. Maiju learned sign language back in Gerudo, and Iliana only knows a little bit from her time in Hateno so she’s mostly learning from sheer experience after she starts traveling with Link.)

SIDON. 

You know damn well she was doomed the second he showed up on that bridge with that dramatic entrance. Even Link gets flustered by the Himbo prince. After Sidon introduces himself, Iliana and Link just kinda look at each other and then back up at the ten foot tall shark prince like O///O. 

When facing Ruta, I sort of imagine Link and Iliana just arguing with Sidon standing there in much confusion like. Just, 

Link: You get on his back. I’ll stop any attacks from behind.

Iliana: Wait, what? No! I can’t swim! 

Link: You’re the better archer. 

Iliana: I am not the better archer! You’re the chosen one here! I’m the support! Besides, you have the Zora armor! I’m not getting on the prince’s back! 

Link: You are the better archer. And he’ll keep you safe, while I keep him safe. You’ll be fine.

Sidon: ...I am not entirely sure what the problem is here, but I can assure you that I will not allow any harm to befall you. Should you fall, I will simply catch you and bring you back up to the surface. If need be, I can carry you up Ruta’s falls with you on my back. 

Link: 

Iliana: 

Link: See? Get on his back! 

Iliana: If I die, I’m coming back to haunt you. And if princey here gets wounded because of my incompetence, I’m going to be punching you in the face. Afterwards, I’m gonna need you to punch me in the face for listening to either of you!

Link: Is that a threat or a promise? 

Iliana: YES! 

Later, fighting Waterblight Ganon-

Iliana, hiding in the back shooting arrows at the phantom panicking: You got this Link! 

Link, letting out enraged panicked noises as he swings left-and-right at the phantom: 

Iliana: Oh frick-! 

Link, running straight towards her as Waterblight Ganon lunges, the blond freaking out: ...! 

Ganon proceeds to whack them both and send them flying.

They’re just. They’re just a chaotic dumbass duo. 

Zelda wonders how they manage to get anything done and Sidon is just, “Wow! You guys are incredible! Amazing! have I mentioned how amazing you are and how extremely grateful I am!? Because you are! And I am! You’re my most treasured friends of all time!” 

And then Mipha’s spirit appears, and Iliana and Link realize they both really have a thing for shark royalty. 

[anxresi]

I could line my wall with all the posts Thomas has made about Chloe tonight. (around 50, by my count)

If you wanna read them, don’t bother.

I certainly won’t be sharing any of them

What would be the point?

Because basically, they amount to one thing...

Chloe is bad, and we’re bad people for liking her.

That’s it.

And for anyone thinking that he kids around a lot with his comments...

I’m pretty sure this is something he feels VERY strongly about.

Or he wouldn’t expand so much energy in constantly talking her down.

So no, I don’t think we’re going to get a Chloe redemption.

No, I don’t think she’ll be Queen Bee again. 

No, I can’t see any real change in her behavior.

She’ll just remain the same ol’ hatable Chloe, the ‘evil’ girl that young kids apparently ‘get’ that adults don’t understand...

Yep, apparently we’re ‘dumb’ for wanting her to improve and develop!

To provide a good example for bullies out there that they can be more than just abusers all their lives!

Children couldn’t possibly grasp the delicate subtleties of self-improvement as you grow up!

It’s all so clear now!

Stupid us!

Also, her merchandise doesn’t sell very well.

Another good case for her staying as a villain, I guess.

And she’s compared to a monster and a domestic abuser.

This damaged teenage girl.

Yeah, sounds about right.

And all those tender moments where she showed empathy and love were just ‘fake outs’ all along.

Makes total sense!

And anyone who wanted more from her is just ‘delusional’ and is ‘writing the show in their head’.

Exactly!

Except...

That’s not the way it seemed on screen at all.

When she hugged Miss Bustier

Or had a heart-to-heart with Ladybug

When she risked her life as Queen Bee

Showed genuine concern for Adrien

When she finally appreciated Jean-something

And shared moments of friendship with Sabrina

These did NOT come across as part of an elaborate plot twist

From a show which isn’t exactly known for its complex writing.

They seemed to form part of a ladder...

Which would inevitably climb to a true character shift.

Where this flawed teenage girl could take a long, hard look at her life.

And realize she didn’t HAVE to be like her awful mother.

Or as power-hungry as her father.

She could learn lessons from her favorite superhero Ladybug...

Become a better person...

And an even greater superhero.

She could still keep her sassy attitude.

Just be a bit kinder and selfless, that’s all.

But, nope.

EVERY bit of niceness we witnessed on screen...

None of it was real.

It was all influenced by ‘class’.

Even her childhood friendship with Adrien was nothing.

If he was as poor as the rest of his classmates, she would’ve bullied him too.

Straight from Thomas’s own mouth.

One of the best relationships in the show, gone just. Like. THAT.

He also said to ‘redeem’ her at this stage would be too ‘unconvincing’?

ORLY?

I hate to return to critical mode...

But the show ain’t exactly known for its consistent writing.

One minute Marinette is confident around Adrien...

Next she’s a nervous jumble of words.

It sets up two new ships for Mari and Adrien with great fanfare...

Only to ditch them both two eps later.

(Also, what the **** did they plan to do with Lila?!)

In other words, this isn’t a show that plays the long game

Whether this is to satisfy the networks’ demand to air the eps out of order idk.

The point is that trying to tell us that Chloe’s ‘arc’ was some grand scheme...

Where she’d have a few sympathetic moments only to emerge worst than ever afterwards....

I simply don’t believe it.

Either this is terrible, amateurish writing of the worst kind...

Or Thomas flexed his influence behind the scenes...

And put an abrupt end to Chloe’s development before it really got started.

It doesn’t really matter which reason I guess.

What DOES matter is this petty and spiteful man sees fit to bash her in around 70% of his online interactions right now.

He could just ignore the posts but nope, he goes right in there, full throttle. 

You can just tell how smart he is with his intimate psychological breakdowns of why Chloe is the way she is...

When we all know the actual reason... he just couldn’t be bothered.

Far better to create a whole new character, give her none of the depths that could make a developed Chloe such a pain to write...

And then 'reward’ her with the position of Queen Bee, for being super-sweet and as shallow as a puddle.

And oops, make her Chloe’s half-sister or whatever to further rub salt in Chloe stans’ wounds. 

Is the show even gonna tackle the angst that would arise from Mayor Andre discovering his beloved wife had an affair?

Or Chloe discovering her much-loved mother is in fact a cheat?

What about coping with the SHOCK revelation that she... GASP... has a long-lost sister?

Forget it. All that rich potential for human emotions sounds B O R I N G.

Don’t forget that if there’s a major event in this show that doesn’t include the words ‘Love Square’, the makers just don’t care.

Let’s cut straight to a giant golden Zoe (who now looks like a giant golden Chloe) trying to smoosh her now much smaller sister...

While Chloe pushes Marinette and her parents towards the beast to save herself. 

Because of course she does.

Never misses a trick to make Chloe look bad, does Thomas.

It’s a skill you can tell he’s very proud of.

Anyway, back to Zoe...

Despite my harsh words above, I harbor no ill-will towards you.

Your design is decent and you seem like a stand-up gal.

But I hate to say this...

You shouldn’t exist.

It was completely unnecessary from a storytelling POV to create a sibling for Chloe, and your mere presence will diminish the show.

I can say this with utmost confidence after looking at the situation from every conceivable angle...

Without even needing to watch your eps or know why you were created.

(Although, I have a pretty good idea)

Some people might say WELL GIVE HER A CHANCE!!!!

Hmm... no.

Everything the show needs to be successful with Chloe’s character...

It’s already right there.

She does not need a secret sibling

She does not require a sweeter counterpart

And she definitely DOESN’T need Thomas constantly bashing her to impressionable fans online like she’s the Antichrist personified!

Seriously dude, if you hate her so much why bother creating her?

And if you hate her so much... why spend so long talking about her?

Despite his repeated denials, I think something another user here said is very true...

She DOES live ‘rent free’ in his head.

It sickens him that, despite his best efforts, she still has so many fans.

Not to worry, Thomas.

From what I see, there are still plenty of sycophants who agree with everything you say (even if they actually don’t)

After all, it’s enough for some to get a reply from the ‘great man’ himself

Why jeopardize that by trying to engage with him in a meaningful debate?

Especially when we know how handsy he is with the ‘block’ button.

Anyway, this went on for about a thousand more words than I meant it to.

I guess me and Thomas have just ONE thing in common (Thank God)

This is a topic which we both feel VERY strongly about.

The differently is of course, I have far less power in the process, and preach to a much smaller audience.

Still, I won’t let that stop me ranting away like a loon.

Hey, if it’s good enough for him... ;)

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #27 ~ Warfare

♫Till I Die♫

The fall of Garlemald's effects ran-through out the realm suddenly the shift of power had been flipped over. As many of the countrymen deserted, or those scattered, were pursued. Now they understood what it was like to be the spoils to war. Hunter's turned to prey. A privateer ship supporting under the banner of the Crimson. Chased pursued in the open seas of an attempted escape, a remnant squadron. Their division shattered as their Empire was crumbling to dust. The divisional commander of her ship was taking huge mortar's although the sea-vessel was sturdy and advanced, was taking blows, her men were taking hefty causalities, hearing in screams. They couldn't flee from this. In the fang's of revenge, under the skies of war, monsters were born. The people who once felt were fighting for righteousness, become no-better. These Privateer's were rejoicing. "Commander. Two more alliance accompanying vessels of the opposition have ascended over waves, we've nowhere to go!" The morale of her people were descending. "We've deserved this outcome. It was an honor." Her sentimental tone, spoke they'd rather imperial salute each-other, and commit suicide before becoming prisoners. Right in their contemplated end. The shift was about to turn again.

"A third vessel had wedged between the middle of their reinforcements!" Was shortly called out, giving them further, resolve of hopelessness, before... "Wait. The middle-vessel is bombarding the others!" Suddenly a massive ship rising over tides, removing the fake red Maelstrom banner had been withdrawn into an iconic pirate flag hoisted. Upon the bow-spirit was a tricorne-man. Treading past the destruction of two smaller privateers vessels. The ambush assault left them fodder out-maneuvered. Gathered man, etched in warpaint, they were banned ready for a fight. To intervene between this naval battle. The Seeker leapt back to his decks to bolster. "I would ask ye my Crew, within my helm. T' PRAY for yer enemies. Give them an early moment of silence. For these poor unfortunate soul's will b' educated, they'll earn their red-coats upon this Sun!" He roared and screamed with a warrior shout That followed behind others. "Give Boy-Lad his sea-legs. Let him earn his stripes t' walk over bones!" A crippled and amputated legless fighter crawled on the floor in disbelief, as Sol made augmented prosthetic legs. Unified chaos positioned, to invade the vessel of the privateer from behind. "Aid th' carrier of Garlean's, give all others no-quarter!" Viciously a stampede of leaps was drawn, it was anarchy. Projectiles flung back and forth, sniper shots from the crow's nest of the Worldly Finder started picking off them. Each Crewmate nearly about to be butchered by an opposition was protected by another, they fought as sword and shield, and reversed the roles. Rallied by a leader who was believed-long-flung dead. The brute Seeker skirmishes an assortment of parries to one of the swashbucklers before pulling out a sheathed revolver in the other hand and angling it under his chin and pulling the trigger in a massacre. Completely butchery. Blood of not his own making savagely drew over his face. As he bellowed another victoriously battle-cry that kept even his own injuries gaining on Crew to fight-on. The Garlean's left their hunker, to unity in bewilderment anyone would fight under their behalf. The Captain was almost executed by an aimed shot musketeer but was shot back by an assault rifle of the imperialist. The buccaneer brought terrifying laughter. "THEIR NUMBERS ONLY GIVE US MORE HEADS T' ROLL!" Not only bolstering morality to his own fighters, but also was making hesitation and fear start wearying the grip's of his oppositions, a tactician of dirty behavior. How long have they gotten to do anything they wanted? Or used the excuse of the Garlemald for them to justify or blame their heinous antics? These seas held no discrimination. Yet being constantly corrupted. Putrid borders, barriers for entries, they started skewering Beast Tribes because they strictly took advantage of the Calamity. They put a price-tag on the seas, owning it. Law and restricting and it's no different than what Captain's seen before, they're vindictive and greed-coated. Yet unlike Garlemald who were openly wanting to conqueror, the Maelstrom and Grand Companies alike played fantasy pretend. They're unbeatable, the good! Couldn't do any wrongs, existed of no poison. Bullshit, in war there was no such thing. It's a contest of ego. How many times had the Captain seen a Maelstrom get promoted after they violated his kinsmen, while preaching they were pirates... How many times did he watch them do nothing as people plead in the dirty-alleys before a gal went abducted and missing. These seas would find freedom from vile. Disarray and unorganized, suddenly being attacked by two-sides, the privateer's were being annihilated. Counter measured every-time they brought their marine scholars out, their magic was cancelled by the Historian of the Goldbrand, the purest faith in the Twelve, who brought them no harm, other than silencing their spells. The God's weren't on their side, they belonged to this pirate. That fiendish outcast hound of an Xaela, who ghoulishly shrieked, was feasting on arm's while slewing them in beheaded messes. A Quartermaster

followed by impaling them and hurling the smaller runt's of the enemies. Captain leapt up off that mountain of a Hellsguard on his Crew and bounced off his shoulders dexterously onto the stern. Exchanging in runaways some jumping overboard. "Draw them from th' seas back up here! Their corpses is unworthy t' share with the benthos!" Angry swarming came to their noisy vocalized leader. If they could just behead that blasted vermin then all of them would crumble to despair. He played defensively and evaded one of them about to slayed, was sniped from afar. The handicapped soldier got a puncturing stab on one of the men to protect his Captain before collapsing as his new leg's were already damaged and punctured. The Seeker picked up the adrenaline as blood cut's were protruding from his cheek. He threw his coat onto one of them and jabbed a series of quick deft dirks. A swishing blade came again as he relied on his above-feline scents. The thing he was mocked for by these giants. Doing a handstand leg, disarm from twisting the wrist of the deathly aggressor. The Seeker rolled away and jumped off the stern and swung a leap into the cabin, where he saw the frantic Head-Captain of this enemy helm, run-into, gathering up belongings to attempt plotting retreat. Unexpectedly a flintlock shot at his leg making him fall over all his glistening golds and gil he was trying to rummage into a burlap sack like a coward trying to recollect himself. He brought his own gun out but was disarmed by the wrist from another firearm shot, "Cap'n Daniwyrn... Ye have lost your sense. Recall me." These two knew each-other full and well, this was more than just a one-sided squabble, now. It held harboring emotion. "...Yer supposed t' b' blimey dead!" The callus blood-thirsty Seeker lowered his arm. "Dead is what ye did t' someone I loved. Well, I got yer message. Ye saw t' remove her head cause she moved t' me. If you couldn't have her, neither ov' us could." He lectured in all this chaos-warfare and took a menacing seat. "See, I am not here for revenge on you. This goes beyond that. Now, ye made a crime, sin I find very offensive..." The sea-wolf tried regaining himself while trying to also slowly scoot his bottom and get back his disarmed gun. Knowing was about to be sentenced to a horrific death, or believed. "You have tainted these seas, Daniwyrn. The punishment fer losing your sense. Is crueler than death by my hand. It's t' live as such." He shot the ear's respectively of the privateer. Then the Seeker stood up. Fiendishly brought out his coeurl toothed carved dagger and carved out eye to eye from his enemy. While he was screaming in anguish and incomprehensible pain never able to reel back. He cut that tongue like a fleeting ribbon.

Taking the senses of someone who lacked senses firstly. A fitting treatment, barbarically exercised. He bathed in all the blood over his inferior feline frame. "I know you can't hear me, see, nor speak, though I'm also a nice-guy, I'll leave ye with yer gun... if get the opportunity you should kill yourself." He'd savagely trail, beating his enemy who barely was functioning, stuck in a haze, discombobulated, suffering severe blood-loss. Loading and priming the revolver with one bullet, he'd force it into the arm's of his blind foe and make him squeeze it. Captain walked out as if this was just a regular circumstance. The duty of returning. Closing the cabin door. Hearing a procedure gun-shot ring-throughout. A signal was overhead horned, "They've got more crimson reinforcements!" The battle sizzled and the sparks were over. "Let us gather up, plunder post-haste. Burn this shite down." They took the Garlemald survivors and retreated, licking wounds but won victorious.

[the-little-shoebox]

😳!!!! 6, 17, 22!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, so knowing you Donny, this is gonna turn into a Brook post!

So for those that don't know, this is Brook Hyde. My very aggressive borrower gal that has.... so many issues on her mind. Cause I forgot to mention this on the other ones given the meme, I usually have her aged at between 18 or 20, completely asexual, as for the rare RARE romantic side.... ladies (particularly redheads as I've noticed a pattern) 6. What's my favorite thing about her? Well, I think my favorite thing about her is just her potential. She started off as this angry little monster that is a fav trope of mine, but with all her development she's shown that she's able to really grow in any setting I place her in. Plus her expressions are the BEST to draw! 17. What kind of blog/social media would they have and how would they run it? Brook if she was one to get a blog to share her ideas down. I feel like the most likely thing would be a video blog/youtube channel where she just rants about things on livestreams while she fucks around with some poor actual youtuber's equipment. That would be fucking hilarious and lowkey want it. 22. Show us a different kind of hairstyle they’d wear if applicable! Occasionally Brook will sport a messy bun in that rat's net she calls hair. Mostly in the morning if her faculties are in order. I drew the digital one super fast for this and the original doodle was just.... ancient concepts.

[factual-fantasy]

I got 25 asks that took me WAY too long to reply to! :}

I have two top favorite episodes, the cone snail episode and the beluga whales episode.

When it comes to my favorite part of both episodes..?

..Not happy parts...

I have absolutely no idea what you just suggested.

(Referring to this post)

Thank you! That was the intention. :} I was worried that their faces all looked weird..

You want to learn more? Man.. maybe I should post that headcannon draft..

Yeah haha, this blog has taken quite the U-turn hasn’t it? I’m just glad everyone seems okay with it so far. <:} I’m excited for season 5 also! I hope it comes out soon! :D

THANK YOU, I WILL CHERISH THIS LOVE YOU HAVE GIVEN ME FOREVER

Yes and no.

Does he think of his crew as children? Absolutely not. They are all fully grown, intelligent and capable adults, and he darn well treats them like it.

But you bet that if one of them is in danger or is frightened, he’s dropping everything he’s doing and rushing to their aid as if they’re his cub that just wondered out onto the highway.

ME TOO! I always felt like he had this fatherly vibe to him with some professionalism sprinkled on top. Like he’s always looking out for his team because he cares for them and worries about them, but its kind of disguised as him just doing his job as the Captain.

I plan to draw more Protective Barnacles because its my jam, so don’t worry! That side of you will have some more fuel soon XD. And thank you for all the compliments! :}

Daww thank you, it twaz nothin. I’m just glad that people want to see my art.

Well, taking everyone into consideration, the tallest is Captain Barnacles, and the shortest is Tomminow. (This little guy 👇)

The Vegimals aside though? Peso is the shortest. 

(And thank you! I’m glad :})

Honestly? Awful. I feel like absolute garbage, I just hope this will all finally go away soon.

Not really no, and no thanks on the cookies, I shouldn’t eat anything until I get super hungry because everything gives me stomachaches.. But a hug would sure be nice right about now.

I can give you a link to their wiki pages if that’ll help, I’m not really good with my words and you can learn everything you need to know about them there. <:}

Captain Barnacles (The polar bear guy)

Kwazii (The orange pirate cat guy)

Peso (The bby Penguin doktor)

Shellington (Tall Otter boi)

Dashi (Doge girl with skirt)

Professor Inkling (Fancy squik)

Tweak (Green bunny country gal chick)

The Vegimals (Little veggie dudes)

All the Gups (Metal fishes)

The Octopod (Momma metal squik)

Whos the youngest Octonaut? Well, if we’re not including the Vegimals, I’d say its probably Peso. And the oldest is most likely Professor Inkling.

Does anyone have claustrophobia? Yes! Captain Barnacles canonically does. He got trapped in a deep hole in some icy caves as a cub, since then he’s been afraid of tight and closed in spaces. I have extended on that fact and thought of many different scenarios relating to the aftermath of the Octonauts movie, but you know.. still not confident in all this Octonauts stuff so I haven’t posted my headcannons yet. <:/

Novelas translated into English means Soap Opera.

You think so? I feel like that’s not Kwazii’s thing, he’d probably like horror movies and action filled movies. But Peso probably would like them not gonna lie, him and Dashi would probably watch them together.

Well, in my draft post I’ve got two headcannons for her so far.

Tweak likes sleeping in the launch bay for the #1 reason that she can hear the water sloshing around in the bay. Which mimics the sound the water in the swamp used to make when she lived there with her Dad.

Tweak gets bad migraines when she’s sick, so the other Octonauts have to do a lot to accommodate her. Because the beds in the med bay aren’t that soft, she prefers to sleep in her room when she’s sick. But then the usually comforting sounds of the water in the launch bay become pain inducing. So the launch bay is emptied of all its water, the lights are shut off and, unless its an emergency, no one is allowed in the launch bay until she recovers. 

I looked it up, and its true.

KWAZII WAS A GIRL IN THE BOOKS?? THEN WHY IS HE A BOY IN THE SHOW?? WHY DID THEY CHANGE THAT?? WH??? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like this Kwazii more than I would any other version of him, but still, WHY’D THEY CHANGE THAT?? IM GLAD THEY DID BUT WHY??

Hmm.. let me think...

Captain Barnacles most likely doesn’t ever have uninterrupted free time, and even when he does, he probably still prefers to be up in HQ where anyone can find him if they need him. But lets say for the sake of it that he has some free time and he takes it. He’d probably either want to play his accordion, or want to read a book.

I feel like there’s a lot of different things Kwazii likes to do in his spare time, but goofing around in the Gup-B is probably his favorite.

Peso probably likes to do puzzles and play his xylophone.

Dashi probably reads books while listening to music. How she does both of these things at the same time I have no idea.

Tweak probably plays video games.

Professor Inkling and Shellington both probably read books in their free time.

I’m not too sure what the Vegimals would do in their free time though..

Oh yes, indeed it does. 

Before becoming the Captain of the Octonauts, Barnacles had to ask himself,  “Am I really ready to be their leader?” Can he handle managing a team of that size? Can he react to situations fast enough and make the right choices? He thought it through and believed that yes. He was ready.

But he wasn’t. He wasn't prepared for that gut wrenching anxiety when one crew member goes missing. He wasn't prepared for the crippling heat that most everywhere else has compared to his home. He wasn't prepared to become so attached to his crew that the thought of something happening to them keeps him awake for nights in a row. He wasn’t prepared for that overwhelming nausea of missing home and his sister. 

There was a lot he didn’t know. They’d all turn to him when something went wrong and ask if everything's going to be okay. He’d say “don’t worry, its all going to be okay.” but he’s just as unsure as everyone else.

Now don't get me wrong, he’s not this completely hopeless and unexperienced Captain that bit off more than he could chew, no. There’s just somethings he didn’t think about before becoming Captain of the Octonauts.

Now usually he can really keep himself composed almost always. He’s very level headed and very good at thinking his way through things, But sometimes? He just.. needs a break. He usually cant get a break because he’s the Captain and always needs to be alert, so everyone else that sees it usually tries to help.

Some crew members, like the Vegimals and Kwazii, have a habit of following the Captain around when they see that he’s tired to keep an eye on him. Others like Shellington and Dashi tend to give him space and keep things quiet for him. Some crew members, like Peso and Tweak tend to clean up around the place to take some weight off the Captains shoulders, they all help him out in some way.

Professor Inkling will sometimes find an excuse to pull him aside to have some tea with him. They’ll sit and talk for a bit but then he’s back up on his feet and back to work. This poor bear..

..hold on.. was this a drawing suggestion?

Dashi and Tweak would probably hang out in Dashi’s room and goof around. Not sure what they’d do.. maybe read, talk, play games or.. idk pillow fights? I don’t know what girls do on a girls night.

As for everyone else? I also am not sure, I don’t know what all those characters with all their clashing personalities would do on a boys night. Maybe they would all watch a movie? All attempt bake something obnoxious together? They seem like the kind of characters that would do that.

I’ve never been to a girls night or a guys night, so I don't really have much of a base to go off of.. but both groups would probably get together and do something they’d all enjoy. Guys maybe a funny movie, and the girls just talking and reading books? <:D 

For real that’d be hilarious. Imagine if their voices were deep and gruff too but they just make them sound high pitched for fun?

Dude that’d be so funny. Like Kwazii’s up to his shenanigans again blabbering on about some sea monster or what have you, and Tunip out of nowhere just goes,

“Kwazii legit stop, we all know that you’re just talking about some ordinary sea creature that pirates interpreted as a sea monster.“

The whole crew gon be like

If this game existed in their world and they all played it.....

Captain Barnacles would make it through a pacifist run and would be satisfied. He’s some kind of weirdo who doesn’t think of characters as real people and doesn’t obsess over them and cry about them. Overall he thinks the game is pretty neat, but probably not his type of game.

Kwazii would want to test his skills by attempting a genocide, but his heart of gold would get in the way and he wouldn’t be able to complete it. He’d feel terrible for killing goat mom, reset and go hard pacifist next round. Overall he thinks the game is awesome.

Peso would want to talk to every character so they’d all be included in the story. He’d go full pacifist and cry over the story and its characters. Overall 10/10 for him.

Dashi would probably cry over the game a lot and would never attempt a genocide run because the characters are now her family.

Shellington would hate the fighting parts so would delay those bits by walking around and talking to characters over and over again.

Tweak would go through a neutral run because she sometimes accidently kills weaker monsters. Overall she loves the story and its characters, 10/10 would play again.

Professor Inkling would become invested in the story I bet. Complimenting the story arcs for the characters and its creative game play. But I feel like he’d only play it once and probably wouldn’t beat it, but would have fun with it none the less.

Thank you!!!♡♡♡ Man, I never expected such a positive response to switching to Octonauts, I cant believe everyone is so excited about it! I’m so glad you like my Octonauts art, that really makes me feel better and like what I’m drawing is worth while. ɷ◡ɷ

Aww I’m glad! And oh yeah, the animals at the end were always scary. Remember the Boo the spookfish?

Boo was a cute little googly eyed fishy boi who was just so sweet and somft until the creATURE REPORT AND I-

THAT’S MY QUE TO YEET THE COMPUTER

Dawww thank you!! I tried. <:}

[crowleyellestair]

Fools In Love - Jaskier (The Witcher)

Masterlist

Other Jaskier Fic:

More Than Ok

  Geralt was annoyed at the sense of familiarity. Forced to be kneeling on the ground, hands tied. Looking around, he notices he’s not in a place he recognizes. Runes he was unfamiliar with tiled the floor and the wooden ceiling rose high. There were candles lit, and though the place looked recently inhabited, it was old and dusty. Not much caught his eye, except for his humble bard, limp on the steps a few feet away from him. The steps led up to an old wooden throne with a woman upon it.

Geralt sighed, knowing who sat there. It was the monster they were hunting. A succubus that had plagued the town for a month now. There was a twist to this woman, however. Not only did she have her way with men in their sleep, but when she was done, she would eat their heart. And to top it all off, she only went for starry-eyed lovers.

Which is why this job had been mucked from the start.

Y/n and Geralt were the ones in charge of choosing the jobs. Mainly Geralt, but he trusted y/n enough to do it, like this job. When they had told Jaskier about it, Geralt told him to stay in his room. They had travelled with Y/n, but she would have other obligations from time to time, and leave the two. Somehow, she would always find them after a week or two and they would continue as nothing happened. Since she was gone, he got to listen to Jaskier talk on about the woman. Because of this, he had assumed that Jaskier was in love with Y/n.

And he was.

But Y/n didn’t know that, and apparently Geralt wasn’t supposed to say anything. So, to cover his heart, Jaskier had said there was no need to worry, and his heart was as free as a bird. Geralt had never said Y/n’s name when mentioning that Jaskier was in love, but she was there. And he could see the pain she felt after Jaskier had trotted out of the inn. The new info had thrown the whole team for a loop. Y/n had been more drawn from the bard and this reflected on Jaskier’s mood. And it made for poor company, which had affected Geralt as well.

Jaskier and Y/n would always share a room in any inn they had stayed at, and Geralt was completely fine with it. Usually Y/n and Geralt would share a quiet and respectful drink before she would retire. When she would head for the room, Jaskier would appear, and the night would be filled with song.

The previous night was all wrong, however. Geralt and Y/n shared a drink, but it was far from quiet. Jaskier sat next to them, speaking of his grievances of the world and falling into a sullen place. Geralt assumed it was because Y/n hadn’t really spoken all day. He knew that Jaskier grew jealous of the two when they went on missions alone together, but somehow Geralt had reassured him every time. And it was true. Geralt never felt anything towards her except respect for her swordsman ship and her magical prowess. Though she only used her power for healing, it came in handy.

Y/n had retired early, and Geralt had Jaskier off of his hands as he fled to spill his woes to a random woman at the bar. He hadn’t thought anything of it, except relief. But now, looking at the woman before him, he could tell he messed up. She didn’t fit the description of who they were looking for, but of course it didn’t really matter now. Geralt was bound securely, and his friend was drunk out of his mind. He knew that it wasn’t an alcoholic beverage that made him that way. No, it was love. The demon would flush more endorphins and emphasize what was already there. It was also evident in the joy she gained from taking a person from their significant other.

For a demon of lust, she was wearing multiple layers of fur and she looked like she had put up a fight with someone. Geralt knew it couldn’t have been Y/n. In fact, Geralt was worried that she didn’t know they were gone. She had retired for the night, and since they were fighting, Jaskier’s return to their room might have been questionable. At this point, Y/n was their only foreseeable hope unless Geralt could talk his way out of it.

“So, you are the succubus.” The woman looked up at him and smirked. A bare leg popped out from under her coat, and pointed towards Jaskier. He fumbled up the steps, not being able to stand, but still reaching for it.

“Yes, and you’re the Witcher.” He hummed in response. He noticed that Jaskier was breathing heavy and groggily, much like when the djinn attacked. His movements were slow, and he kept mumbling something.

“What are you doing?” He looked to the suffering man, anger somewhat filling him. He didn’t have emotions, but he knew that he was bothered by the sight. For both Jaskier and Y/n.

“Waiting.” His eyes flicked up to the woman.

“For what?” She looked at Geralt, but quickly brushed him off, looking down to the man groveling at her feet.

“My friend. She has paid for your heart.” She chuckled at Jaskier, putting on a sad, mocking voice. “Y/n. Y/n! I just can’t get over his voice! Such a lovely singing voice, gone to waste. Maybe I should keep him around-.” Both adults’ head’s snap to the door hearing movement. “Ah, my gal has arrived-.”

“Get your hands off my dandelion!” Y/n had burst through the door, Geralt’s sword in hand. It was raised and ready to strike, putting a small smile on Geralt’s face.

“Y/n.” The gruff voice spoke. Upon hearing the name, Jaskier turned and fell on his back at the base of the steps while groggily shouting it. His eyes were almost black as his pupils were too blown. His cheeks were as red as his lips, lips he kept licking for a reason he didn’t know. He was only in a lose shirt and pants, and the sight broke Y/n’s heart.

“I’m here, don’t worry.” The demon stood, walking down and over the laying man.

“The lover. How cute.” Her head disappeared behind the large coat, but she started to morph. The fur molding into her body, grotesque bone wings pop out of her back. A screech was heard before the demon charged, soaring over Geralt, and at Y/n. To help, Geralt stood, pushing the beast upward, and off balance. She fell and slid to Y/n’s feet. The warrior took a step back, bringing the sword down and decapitating the thing. She was out of breath, looking at Geralt.

“That was… easy.” Y/n turns to the door when she hears movement. Another decrepit monster swoops in, claws against her shoulder’s, pushing her to the ground. She falls hard on the small of her back, the wind getting knocked out of her. Geralt stepped to help, but the sword was already plunged deep into the thing’s chest. The body fell on top of her, but she laid there, waiting for her breath to catch. After a moment, she pushed the thing off, getting up, and walking to Geralt. He turned, showing the binds. She cuts them before looking past his arms to find Jaskier wrecked. Y/n pushes the sword into the man’s hands before rushing to Jaskier. She slides on her knees to get to him.

“Y/n!” He flailed into her arms, and she held him up. She throws his arm over her shoulders and drags him to Geralt. Jaskier shoved his nose as far as it went into the crook of her neck. A dark blush followed and rushed to her cheeks.

“So… When is this gonna wear off?” Geralt looks between her eyes and Jaskier. A ghost of a smile brushed him, and he replied with,

“Not sure. We should head back to the inn.” She nods and they make their way back to the horses. After a bit of help, Jaskier was on her horse, Horse.

“Huuuuugh. Dandi, you’re backwards.” And he was. Jaskier just looked down at her, going for a gentle caress of the cheek, but instead throwing his hand at her. She grabbed it before it hit her, and she put it back in his lap. She rolled her eyes and hoped onto Horse.

“Oh, Y/n. Look at you.” She was trying to look over his shoulder, but he keeps sticking his face into hers.

“I can’t, Dandi, that’s not possible.”

“I could help.” She sighed and raised her brow. He smiled; eyes still blown. “You have bright (E/c) eyes. A nose, perfect for,” he brought his finger up and booped her, “booping. Lips that I think of kissing every night. Once I was going to steal a kiss. Then I thought It would be creepy, seeing as you were sleeping.” She could feel Geralt’s gaze at the comment. “You know, rooming with you is hard. Laying in a bed, never making a move.”

“Jaskier, you are high out of your mind.” He let out a laugh and his forehead fell on her shoulder.

“I love you.” He quickly sat back up and looked upset. “Why were you ignoring me yesterday. You know, if I were a fool, I’d think you were upset with me.” She nods.

“Well, I was, so, looks like you are a real ass.”

“But why? I don’t remember saying anything that would make you upset.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”

The trio had made their way back to the inn, and Geralt helped Y/n get the bard back into the room. He had fell asleep on the ride, and now was face down, ass up on the bed. The sight was hilarious, but Geralt had to make something known.

“The demon only went for fools in love. He’s my…. But definitely not in love with me.” His amber eyes had shown with playfulness with an edge. Y/n nodded, but only said a good night before closing the door.

[katymacsupernatural]

A Flash of Blue

Michael!Dean x Reader

1400 Words

Written For: @heavenandhellbingo, @spnkinkbingo

Squares Filled: Angel Tablet (HH), Marathon Sex (Kink)

Summary: During college Y/N is turned into a prophet. Quickly snatched up by Michael!Dean, she helps him with a spell. A spell that doesn’t go as planned.

Warnings: Slight angst, nsfw, 18+, spell driven sex, dub con, marathon sex

With the Angel sitting there, watching you closely, you ran your fingers along the tablet once more, your heart racing. The stone was cold underneath your fingertip, the etchings catching against your skin.

To anyone else, it looked like a bunch fo scribbles, markings carved into a stone that made no sense. But you had been handpicked by God himself to make sense of the tablet. To be able to read it when no one else could.

You were a prophet, a fact that didn’t make you happy. Especially when the Angel Michael had found you, kidnapping you and forcing you to bend to his will.

“Well,” He spoke slowly as he moved to his feet, his long black coat settling like a cape around him. “What have you figured out?”

“I...It takes more time than this…,” you stuttered as he grasped your chin, turning your face to meet those beautiful green eyes of his. Eyes that flashed blue when he was annoyed. Like right now. “I promise, I’m looking as fast as I can!”

His hand moved from your chin, wrapping around your neck, squeezing just tight enough to remind you who was boss. “Look faster. I’m growing impatient.”

He pushed you back into the chair before he vanished from the room, giving you a chance to breathe. Your breaths were shaky, your hands trembled as you tried to figure out exactly what you had gotten yourself into.

You had been in college, studying to become an archeologist when this voice spoke to you. The next thing you remembered was waking up in this room, able to read what he called an Angel Tablet.

You had quickly lost track of days, stuck in this windowless room, shackled to the table with only a small cot and a couple of chairs the other furniture in the room. Michael came and went as he pleased, bringing you food and water, releasing your shackles long enough for you to use the restroom.

He never told you exactly what he was looking for. Just that he needed all the information on that tablet. That he would kill you if you didn’t do what he said. So you swallowed your questions and did as the handsome man asked.

After giving yourself a pounding headache, you had finally deciphered something. It talked of Angels and a spell that could enhance their powers. Or at least that’s what you thought. It seemed simple enough, even though you had never heard of most of the ingredients. Black salt, the finger bone of a smaller saint. The grace of the Angel along with blood from a human. It gave you a chant to say, the words ancient-sounding and hard to grasp.

“Well?” His deep booming voice echoed through the small room, shocking you so you almost dropped the stone tablet. He strode forward, taking the tablet and placing it safely on the table. “Have you figured anything out?”

You nodded nervously, completely overwhelmed by the proximity of the man in front of you. He was tall, towering over you, his wide shoulders trapping you in. You were drawn to him but scared at the same time, and it was so confusing.

“I have this spell,” you spoke up, your voice shaking slightly. “It talks about enhancing powers? For an Angel. But I don’t…,”

“That’s perfect!” He exclaimed. “With a spell like that, I could rid myself of those pesky Winchesters and their stupid friend Cas at the same time. Then this body would truly be mine.”

You wanted to ask whose body it was but smartly kept quiet. But you couldn’t help wondering about what you had just heard. If he truly was an Angel and that wasn’t his body, then who was the poor handsome man that was no doubt trapped inside with him?

Michael clapped his hands together. “Let’s get to work then!”

With a snap of his fingers, all the ingredients were laid out in front of you along with a large stone bowl. “Listen, I’m not sure I can do this,” you whispered. “I was just a normal girl, in college. Planning on what Saturday party I wanted to go to! I have no idea how to perform a spell!”

Within the blink of an eye, he was on you, trapping your body against the table, his hand wrapped around your neck. His thick thighs trapped yours, his hips pressing yours painfully against the edge of the table. You cried out, but he didn’t care. His eyes flashed blue, his lips raised in a snarl. “Listen, I don’t care about your previous life. You’re a prophet now, and as soon as you become useless to me…,”

His words wavered off, but you knew what he meant. As soon as he lost interest in you, well…

Gulping, you reached for your notes. “I can...I promise..,”

He released you and you took in a deep breath. “Good. Let’s get started.”

The spell was rather easy to prepare. The ingredients were ground into the stone bowl. His grace slipped from a small cut on his neck, your blood from a deep slice on your wrist. With everything mixed together, you spoke the words, feeling them deep in your soul, swirling around you like a deep blue fog.

Michael stood in front of you, his arms stretched wide, his long black coat gone, his white sleeves rolled to his elbows. His eyes were closed as the fog circled him, swirling and wrapping around him like silk. “I can feel it,” he whispered, his eyes vibrantly blue as he glanced down at you. “It’s working!”

As quickly as the fog started, it stopped, and you waited with bated breath for the results. Knowing that you had a hand in creating a monster. A killing machine.

“I feel..,” he spoke, flexing his arms when his eyes widened incredulously. “Wrong. This spell. Are you sure you read it right?”

“I...I think so,” you stuttered. “Why?”

“The only thing growing even more potent is my...lust,” he answered. In a blink he was in front of you, his lips hot against your neck. You tried pushing him away, but your attempt was feeble as you lifted your head to give him better access.

“The spell. What did you do wrong?” He breathed against your neck before nipping at the tender flesh, his hand slipping into your pants, cupping you without warning. You jerked but had nowhere to go as he cornered you against the wall, his body crushing yours.

You should have been fighting against this, but you had been drawn to this man from the start. So instead of pushing him away, you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth to yours.

His smile could be felt through his kiss, his lips harsh against yours as his palm rubbed roughly against your sensitive nerves. His finger brushed against your entrance, slightly pushing it’s way in before pulling away. “Too many clothes,” he ground out, and suddenly you were naked in his arms.

His movements were a blur, his fingers driving you to the point of ecstasy before pulling away. His lips were everywhere, hot and heavy against your skin, leaving you wanting. It wasn’t until he filled you to the brim that you were able to come undone.

The wall quickly became the bed, the ancient wood creaking and groaning under his thrusts. He came undone while you screamed his name so loud the walls shook.

An hour later you were straddling his waist, his thick cock still deep inside you, your legs shaking as you shook your head. “No, no more,” you pleaded, but his hands were tight on your hips, moving you up and down.

“I...can’t...stop,” he gritted, bucking his hips up to meet yours, and you came so hard you almost blacked out.

You had lost track of time. Michael had laid claim to you on every single piece of furniture in this room. The bed more than once. Your entire body ached, you were chafed and dehydrated. Michael lay across from you, his arm loosely across his naked torso. Scratches covered his chest, and hickeys covered his neck. “Do you...think that...the spell’s worn off?” You breathed heavily.

His green eyes flashed blue, his erection proving your words false. With a growl he was on top of you, ready for another bought of marathon sex. A bought you weren’t sure you would end up surviving.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278  @bebravekeeponfighting  @bi-danvers0 @brindz30 @cap-just-said-language @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller  @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk  @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420     @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove   @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498  @closetspngirl   @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008  @esoltis280   @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek  @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99 @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean  @jayankles @jensen-gal @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork  @lowlyapprentice   @maui137 @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93  @nanie5   @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25   @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing​ @samanthaharper2018 @samanddeanmyheroes​ @sandlee44​ @shamelesslydean​ @simonsbluee​ @sillesworldofwriting​ @sgarrett49​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnwoman​   @superbadassnatural​ @thatcrazybookwormgeek​   @thewinchesterchronicles​ @vvinch3st3r​ @wecantgiggleitsafandom​ @whimsicalrobots​ @winchester-writes​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​

[weirdponytail]

Eragon: Book vs Movie. Set & Scene 1

SCENE 1, SET

Brom flipped through the thick packet, one leg crossed over the other. He was sitting in a folding actors chair, a troubled expression on his face.

“Wait, so you just want me to read this?” The old man turned to the Shadow behind him. “Just, read this out loud while things happen around me?”

“Correct.”

Brom sighed. “Alright then,” he opened his mouth to begin but then closed it. One of the other lines had caught his attention. “Oh dear. She isn’t going to like that. Um, might I suggest-”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” Out of nowhere, a burlap skirt came flying at high speed to promptly smack the Shadow right in region it’s face should have been. Brom sighed again and covered his face with his hands. “AND YOU CAN KEEP THIS SHIT, TOO! WHAT ARE THESE, MOULDED LEATHER TITS?!” A hard leather…shirt…thing…followed the skirt and struck with considerably more force, two rocks falling out of the moulded…breast region.

The elder Dragon Rider followed the trajectory of the clothing to see Arya fuming on set, wearing her usual leathers instead of the movie getup their employers had insisted on. Durza was a few strides behind her, howling with laughter at the ‘torture’ the directors were putting the elf through. He was practically crying, braced on his knees. Every time he seemed to be close to stopping, the shade would glance at the script of the first scene and start up again.

“Arya, come on.” Brom started. “I know it’s demeaning, and your mother will probably kill all of us involved if you don’t get to us first, but it’s only a few minutes for this scene. Then you can get back in your clothes and, as a bonus, your contract says you can kick Durza in his nether regions after every take.”

Durza stopped laughing.

Arya crossed her arms and glared at the Shadow. “Make it twice.”

“I have no objection to that.” The Shadow threw the elf the clothes.

The woman turned to change and came face to face with the shade, stopping her. “I swear, little elf, if you even think about doing that, I’ll change the script back to the way it really happened.”

Arya smirked. It was hard to take Durza seriously when he was wearing such ridiculous amounts of makeup and color changing contacts. She leaned in until their noses were almost touching and hissed, “You probably like it, masochist.” Then slipped around him and sauntered off. She could feel his eyes on her back and threw a one fingered salute over her shoulder. “And stop staring at my ass!” 

Durza coughed, caught in the act, and turned back to the Shadow. “I also have an issue with my…wardrobe.”

“Your contract renders all your complaints moot.”

“But does it really have to be covered in glitter glue?” Durza lifted his armored shirt in dismay. “And why must I wear this padding? I’m not chubby, why do you insist on making it look like I am?”

Brom stifled a sarcastic chuckle. “I know you think you’re a vampire with the new costume, Durza, but you really need to look in a mirror.”

Durza scowled at the Rider before growling “I’ll be at my starting point.” And whipped around with a swirl of his new cape. He passed by the trailer just as Arya was walking out, trying to tug the hem of her skirt further down her legs to cover as much skin as possible. “Nice legs, elf.” He casually remarked and quickly took off in a sprint before she could wind up and punch him all the way to Daret.

The ground began to shake as Nar Garzvog lumbered up to the Shadow, his clan of Urgals in tow. “Misty One, where do you wish us to stand for our part?”

The Shadow waved the Kull off. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you, we won’t be needing you. We’ll be using these men.” It pointed towards the group of six-foot chub monsters with blue sharpie on their faces. “Much cheaper, and less stench. Go on, get out.” It snapped its fingers and the clan disappeared in a poof of sulfur smelling smoke.

“Now, Arya, please take your place. We need to begin. Brom, if you would please?”

Brom cleared his throat and picked up his script as Arya hopped onto the horse provided. “Remember, Arya, just grin and bear it.”

“Yeah, that’s what politics is all about. I’m going to kill Nasuada for suggesting this to raise war funds.”

“Ready? ACTION!” 

SCENE 1 FOREST CHASE 

Brom cleared his throat again and began in his best ‘Badass Storyteller’ voice.

“There was a time when the fierce and beautiful land of Alagaesia, was ruled by men astride mighty dragons…

“To protect and serve was their mission. And for thousands of years, the people prospered. But the Riders grew arrogant, and began to-” He stopped, flabbergasted. “Now wait just a minute, this isn’t correct at all! We never fought each other, Galbatorix went bloody insane for the Stars sakes!” He twisted around the glare at the Shadow. “What kind of hack is this? You’re ruining an already fragile history!”

“Keep reading.” The Shadow snapped. “History doesn’t make money, drama makes money. I own you until this film is complete, so keep. Reading.”

Brom sank into his chair, grumbling. “This is so beyond my pay grade. Achhem, But the Riders grew arrogant, and began to fight among themselves for power.

“Sensing their weakness, a young Rider named” Brom paused, and took a moment to slowly and carefully pronounce the tyrant’s name, “Gal-buh-tor-ix betrayed them. And in a single bloody battle, believed he had killed them all. Riders, and dragons alike.

“Well, you got something right.” Brom griped, but turned back to reading when the Shadow mouthed ‘own you.’ “Since then, our land has been ruled by Gal-buh-tor-ix. He crushed all rebellion including the freedom fighters known…as the Varden.

“Those that survived fled to the mountains. There, they hoped for a miracle that might even their odds against the king.”

Brom threw the script down. “Now that I’m done with this mediocre pile of shit, let me tell you something! The Varden has never openly had an army verses army war with dear old Galby until Farthen Dur, you illiterate fool!”

The Shadow opened its mouth to reply but a whoop from out in the forest cut it off. “Oooo, Brom is getting maaaaaad!”

“ARYA, BE QUIET!” The Shadow yelled. “You aren’t done yet, Brom! CUE THE CHASE SCENE!”

“Wait, what?” Arya raised an eyebrow then let out a startled yelp as three of the new ‘Urgals’ lunged from the bushes and slapped the three horses on the rump, sending them off at a breakneck gallop. “OH FUCK YOU!”

“Read!” The Shadow snapped.

“Fine! Our story begins one night, as Arya, an ally of the Varden, rides for her life. Carrying a stone, stolen from the king himself.” Brom looked up with a sour expression. “I STOLE THAT, BY THE WAY! NOT YOU!”

“I’m not arguing!” Arya yelled back, trying to reign in the very spooked horse catapulting through the woods with one hand while frantically flipping through the script with another

“CUE DURZA CLOSE UP!”

Durza glanced down at his script and raised his eyebrows, then jerked back as a camera suddenly shot up inches from his face. “Oh! Um…HSSSSSS-“ He managed a few seconds before shoving the camera away. “THAT WAS NOT MANLY OR SHADELY AT ALL!” Laughter from the direction of his elfin companion could be heard. “I WILL HAVE YOU TORN TO PIECES FOR LAUGHING, ELF!”

She ignored him, finally reaching the correct page of the script. “Ah! Human stand ins get shot-”

Two of the new Urgals popped up, holding loaded crossbows level with the two stuntmen currently taking the place of Glenwing and Faolin.

“We’re sorry.” The larger one said sincerely. “It’s nothing personal, really! But they said they wouldn’t wash the sharpie off unless we do what they say.” They both fired.

Two very shocked and very dead stuntmen hit the ground. Arya stepped her now calmer horse around the bodies and settled her chin on her fist, scanning the script again. “And then…then what, Urgals, Urgals, uh…oh here. I get tackled off and throw down a hill.” After a moment of silence, the woman straightened, a deadpan expression on her face. “I should have read this before hand.”

She could hear the thudding footsteps of the Urgal running towards her and quickly clambered to a crouch on top of the saddle. “Fuck it, I’m jumping.” With that, Arya dove off the horse to the drop at the side. Moments later the Urgal landed on the poor animal. “PETA’s gonna sue yo-OW FUCK SHIT OW, SON OF A BITCH WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU WAIT FOR A VALUABLE PRISONER OW TO BE AT THE TOP OF A HILL WITH ROCKS AT THE BOTTOM TO TACKLE THEM?!”

Brom turned to the Shadow. “I’d like to know that as well.”

The Shadow waved it off. “Semantics. Don’t need it.”

“Oh for the love of- This isn’t even the Ancient Language!” Both looked up to see Durza standing on his ‘cliff,’ about to set the woods on fire. “I can’t summon a flame with this!”

“Light the forest on fire.” The Shadow commanded. “You must use the words provided.”

“But that won’t even work!”

“Then set it on fire using the Ancient language in your head.” The Shadow snarled. “I don’t have time for this!”

“That is incredibly dangerous, and my contract-”

“Says you’re a total pussy and that you enjoy romantic comedies and light bondage in the fine print, now SET THE FUCKING FOREST ON FIRE!”

Durza complied, but only while shooting the Shadow the bird.

Right on time Arya cleared the permitted ‘fire circle of doom’ area and skidded to a stop before she ran into the opposing wall of flames. “So, what, we doing this again?”

“Unfortunately.” Durza strode through the fire. Well, not exactly strode. He had to wave his hands in front of his face to prevent the heat from melting his makeup. He cleared his throat and put on his best ‘rape face’ as the script asked. “Give it to me!”

“D-” Arya paused, her previously prepared dirty joke flying out the window as she saw the blocked text. “Wait, this thing says I have my sword out. Why the hell don’t I just stab you in the chest?”

“SEMANTICS!” Came the yell from off scene.

“Riiiggghht.” Arya shoved the script into the leather bracer on her arm. “Achhem, well. Time to be a bitch.”

“There’s a time when you aren’t a bitch?” Durza remarked, appearing sincerely puzzled.

“Shut up.” The elf shifted into a fighting stance. “Durza!”

Durza switched back into his movie persona. “And I’ll let you live.”

“Is there anyone who trusts the words of a shade?” Arya scoffed. “Oh, that’s very true. Hey, do I really have to teleport this?”

“CONTRACT!”

Arya huffed and pulled the ‘stone’ out of her bag. “Fine. This is going to hurt like a bitch.” Seconds later she was on the ground, blinking stars out of her eyes. “Ooowwww…”

Durza chuckled, “Where did you send it?”’

The elf notice where his eyes were. “What, would you like me to hitch my skirt up a bit more for you?”

“What can I say? I like the hot, sweaty leather look.” He grinned. “The light bondage part of the contract wasn’t lying.”

She scowled. “Poor Durza…How will you tell the king…you’re a total freak? Ahhem, I mean, you failed.”

The two then paused, pulling out their scripts. They spent a few moments reading before Durza started laughing and Arya started swearing.

“What the hell is this?!” She yelled. “[ACT LIKE YOU’RE HAVING AN INTENSE BUT PAINFUL ORGASM]?!?! This is TORTURE?!”

The Shadow materialized in the fire circle. “We just need you to act in pain. The orgasm part is afterwards.”

“Excuse me,” Durza raised his hand. “what is a ‘force choke?’”

“Pretend you’re choking her with your fingers but don’t touch her.” The Shadow made a ‘get on with it’ gesture.

The two looked at each other.

“I’m totally okay with this.” Durza shrugged.

“Yeah, well I’m not!” Arya snapped. “No way am I going to roll around in pain then pretend to bask in post orgasmic bliss in front of YOU of all people!”

“Well, we can do something about that first one.” Durza suddenly stomped on the elf’s stomach. 

“OW!!” She reflexively curled into a ball. “YOU BASTARD!”

Durza looked over his shoulder at the Shadow. “We have the rolling around in pain part down, but I’m not the guy to call to get that second part. You’re going to need this guy, Faolin, he lives-” Arya managed to roll up and land a particularly damaging punch on the shade’s crotch. “OW!! YOU BITCH!” He collapsed and began rolling around in pain, clutching his wounded merchandise.

The Shadow sighed. “Alright. That’s a wrap. SOMEONE TELL ERAGON WE’RE HEADING HIS WAY!”

“Someone warn the poor boy.” Brom rubbed his temples before packing up his chair and helping Arya up. “Tell him we already have wounded. It’ll be a miracle if nobody dies before this is over.” They stepped over the dead stuntmen and made their way towards Carvahall, Durza crawling behind them.

~~~~~~

(Set & Scene 2)

[toonqueen]

Duckvember 2020

--Game--

Just some OC stuff. Move along. Nothing to read here. NO BETA and NO WRITING GOOD DESCS JUST GOING WHERE THIS ENERGY DRINK IS TAKING ME.

PG-13 for the violence. Murder mentions. I’m sure there is a curse word. Fun on a bun stuff.

P.S. IT WAS BETAed THANK YOU @cataradical ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE ONE PART I WAS STUCK AT nnnngh

-------

“Now that I’ve got your attention, let's play a little game,” the canine antagonist’s voice drifted from the speakers, followed by loud, maniacal cackling. There was no sight of him, but the room wasn’t empty.

Faustina curtly stood up from the ground where she had fallen deep into the pit. She was less concerned about the menacing, dangerous voice as she was her clothes getting dirty. Although she was angry, it was more at her sister than this weirdo who’d trapped them here.

“‘Mr. Canis is so nice in the Nega-verse. I just wanted to see if his gas station was anything like the one in the Middle-verse. Your version, he’s such a kind old man, so… what if he’s an absolute grump here? How funny would that be… teehee.’” Faustina repeated words said to her earlier in a mocking tone. She looked around the room as she brushed off her skirt; a small cell with a single glass wall. “Yes, what a great adventure, /sis/,” Faustina growled, pounding on the glass angrily, “find out our good friend /here/ is a serial killer. /Fun times/.”

Faustina glanced up, spotting a TV screen mounted above the glass. Playing was footage of her sister, Felicity, hurrying down a hallway, surrounded by large, halved circular saw blades whirring in and out and along the walls. Faustina’s dark-haired twin was swiftly moving, twisting, dancing around them.

“/I am not a killer/!” the voice shrieked from the speakers, offended, disgusted, “I am merely a tool that creates the puzzles. It is Fate that decides who lives and who dies, not me.”

“Oh, /boy/. This is going to be a /hoot/ then. Fate. With this gal. /Wow/. Why not run me through your death maze too?” Faustina stifled her giggling.

“Because you are going to be the prize for when--or if--she gets through my CORRIDOR OF KARMA and the PRECIPICE OF SERENDIPITY,” the villain bellowed, causing the speakers to glitch a little.

Faustina had completely lost it, cackling until her stomach hurt and she doubled forward, banging a fist against the glass wall. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, her face sore from smiling so much. “Oh, you sad, poor little--if you /only knew/ her! Oh, man, where’s my phone?” She managed to collect herself, wiping away tears and sniffing a few times. A moment to gigglesnort before deep breath. “I’m going to have to record your reaction for later, Mister I Let Fate Decide, but I’m sure as soon as she gets through your stupid game, you’ll change your tune. I bet you made it so everyone loses no matter how hard they try, right? You’re gonna be so butthurt when you realize she’s gonna get through all that.” Unable to restrain herself any longer, Faustina started laughing and snorting again, arms thrown around her belly.

“Laugh now, fool. I hope you see her get torn apart. Behold! She just now entered the GAUNTLET OF THE GILDED-- wait, where did she go?” the canine gasped and choked.

Faustina looked back up at the TV as it started flipping through channels, all showing different chambers and mazes of torture and misery. Every single one of them… empty. Just as another channel turned on, Faustina heard a light shuffling coming from the ceiling above her head.

A second later, a panel on the ceiling right outside the cell room fell to the ground. Felicity climbed out until she was standing, face to face, with her sister on the opposite side of the glass.

Faustina huffed, hands on her hips. “About time. That took you a little longer than I thought,” Faustina complained to her “hero”.

“I would have gotten here sooner, but I felt obligated to read the name plaques he put up in each room. Masquerade of Misfortune was my favorite,” Felicity replied as she placed her hands on where the glass wall met a metal wall.

“How-- /How did you get in here!/ The vents don’t--don’t even lead here!” the voice hissed and snarled from the speakers.

“Well, they do now,” Faustina said on behalf of her sister. Felicity ignored them, tugging and prying along the strip of metal before peeling it loose. A line of bolts popped free.

“No matter! That was cheating! You’ve forfeited the game, and now you will see your sister suffer a gruesome fate,” the voice guffawed sinisterly. Liquid started pouring from the cell’s ceiling, right next to Faustina.

The trapped twin sniffed, and instantly knew what it was. “Gasoline? Really? Gonna set me on fire, huh? This is just getting more and more hilarious. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea. We need to do this every week. Man, if this jerk only /knew/,” she chuckled, casually pressing a hand up against the nozzle and stopping the flow of gasoline.

“Now, Felicity, was it? How ironic your name means “fortune”. Maybe you’ll be lucky by persuading me to let your sister live. Get on your knees, and /beg/ for her life,” their captor ordered, his tone much more disturbing and ruthless.

Felicity gave him the cold shoulder. “Heat would expand the glass, and then you can crawl out through this seam,” she explained to Faustina. “The bolts are out. You’ll be fine.”

“Are you not listening to me?” the voice raged. “You need to convince me to free your sister! I decide her fate!”

“Cool, cool, all right, hellfire. Got it.” Faustina put her fingers in front of her and started to move them like she was playing with an invisible cat’s cradle string. 

“Do you not /understand/, you simpletons? All I have to do is throw a lit match and your sist-- /What in the fuc--/!” the voice changed from commanding to panicked when Faustina herself burst into flames. The fire had started from her own hands, and spread across her body. Flames rolled down her skirt, thick and magma-like, setting the fuel at her feet on fire. There was an immediate rushing blow of black smoke.

Felicity backed away from the hole so Faustina and her fire could do the rest. The escaping duck showed no pain from the flames. She just shrugged and climbed out. The speakers crackled but no voice.

“/Coward/!” Faustina yelled as she got out of the cell, rolling back the glass with the heat. “Why didn’t I think of this?”

“We are underneath a gas station. Might want to tone down the fire,” Felicity suggested. She looked up at where the fuel was still dripping. A few options on what to do rolled around in her mind. “Why is this bothering me more than any other villain we fought?”

“I dunno. More the peeps we beat up tend to rob banks or fight other heroes, so, uh,” Faustina said, the flames disappearing in wisps of black smoke until not even a spark was left. The entire cell floor was covered in flames still. Despite having been set on fire, not a single part of Faustina’s body, even her clothes, had been burned or harmed. However, there was black smudging along the hem of her skirt. “... You’re gonna get my dry cleaning bill.”

“Yeah, we’ve never had to fight a killer that's been taking out… defenseless people,” Felicity mumbled, still watching the dripping gasoline. 

Faustina noticed the change in her sister’s tone. “Look, I can be a reverse conscience, bein’ all for tearing this guy apart. Is that what you want to do?” Faustina leaned in close to her twin, twinkle-eyed. “Really, I’d like to have that family bonding girls’ night /finally/.” 

“No...” Felicity replied quietly. Another moment’s pause, then she asked, “Can you resurrect the bodies in the freezer?”

“Yes,” Faustina said without hesitation. 

Felicity opened the nearest door, finding it to be a closet with the usual cleaning supplies. She handed Faustina a push broom. Not exactly what she hoped for but it would work. 

“I’ll go after him. You get the victims out of here,” Felicity said as she pointed to the hole in the ceiling that Faustina had originally fallen from.

The blonde witch gave a nod and got on the broom, flying out the available exit. Felicity took a ladder from the closet, used it to climb up into a different opening.

-------

Mr. Canis, a mild-mannered gas station owner with a shotgun in hand, was now running out of his business as fast as his legs could carry him.

Well, not that mild mannered, since he would often trap a lone 3 AM traveler or two, and force them to play his sadistic death games he held below the gas station. “A sacrifice to Fate during the bewitching hour” is what he called it. And two tired women on a road trip were just the perfect meals to feed the beast.

Metaphorical beasts. Not monsters like these two were. 

Mr. Canis had made a mistake. He had seen the warning signs! …Though, could the blonde filling the super size one liter soda cup with nothing but nacho cheese really count as a warning sign? After all, she did put a fifty dollar bill on the counter and said to charge her as much as he needed for extra cheese. This weird girl who he’d now just seen catch on fire and come out completely unscathed without any show or sign of pain.

Mr. Canis wasn’t going to stick around to see what the witch’s equally oddball sister could do. 

To think an hour ago his biggest concern was she might be a cop. The way she had just... inspected things on the shelves so tentatively. Actually stood there at the counter for a moment, reading the back of a bag of chips. And then, when he was ringing her up, she just smiled at him like she knew him. Asked how his day was with a strangely large amount of curiosity. 

Mr. Canis assumed the woman must know him--better yet, know what he did. Knew about the puzzles, the games. Knew about the sacrifices he had made to Fate. He could see it in her eyes.

There was a rattling of metal coming from right behind him. He ran across the small parking lot, toward the grass of the surrounding woods. He heard the rattle again. Like a horror movie, he just had to check, see the source of the sound--

The canine’s feet were back on the pavement. The rattling came from the steel door to the room containing all the fuel tanks. There was faint knocking from within--specifically one tank with a small “door” locked up. Mr. Canis laughed despite his fear; one of these so-called “powerful” women were now trapped by a simple metal lock on a rusty old door.

He stopped laughing when the lock broke after another couple knocks. Seemingly with no force either. With one more push, Felicity climbed out of the tank, drenched. Instead of the strong scent of gasoline, she was soaked in cola. 

Mr. Canis was all the more confused when harmless brown soda could be seen (and smelled) in the fuel tank, instead of the gasoline that would be more harmful for this girl to swim in. He was frozen, flabbergasted. How could the hoses for the syrup to the soda fountains even be out here? They must have been diluting the fuel he was using for the traps.

When Mr. Canis snapped out of his daze, he found the black-haired duck glaring back at him in silence. If looks could kill, he’d be dead and buried.

Felicity had been excited to meet the Prime-verse counterpart of the Nega-verse gas station owner she was friends with. She had expected a grumpy version of the man that ran her favorite Nega-verse stop. Maybe throw out loitering teens instead of offering them free day-old donuts. It was going to be amusing. Be fun.

Not deadly.

Mr. Canis fired a shot at her, and it missed. Missed even at point blank. Sure, she had tilted her torso just slightly left, but it should have still hit something! Mr. Canis wasn’t an amateur when it came to firearms. 

Felicity abruptly grabbed the gun. One hand around the top of the barrel, and the other farther down the shaft. Mr. Canis' finger was still curled around the trigger, and he fired another shot. In an instant, she bent and raised the barrel so the shot went into the air.

Felicity gained leverage and let one hand go of the gun. Her free one grabbed under the canine’s arm. Mr. Canis was on his back in a flash when the smaller duck flipped him onto the ground.

Felicity held the gun now, aimed expertly at her would-be attacker. “Get up. Get inside the gas station.” 

“Look, this is all a misunderstanding. Obviously you have the blessed fortune to get through my maze of fate. You and your sister are free to go! Isn’t that wonderful? Go ahead and be on your way!” Mr. Canis was desperate; poor excuses, he knew, but he tried. Maybe the girl would be so in shock by what happened she would just leave? 

Felicity was silent, and still glaring. In that moment, Mr. Canis wished she was more talkative like the blonde. He reluctantly got up, and headed into the gas station. Felicity followed, keeping the gun pointed at his back. 

“I take it you two are going to tie me up and call the cops to come get me?” he chuckled, like he’d forgotten all about the insanity of the last ten or so minutes.

That peace did not last long. Faustina was sitting on the checkout counter. Three other women were in the station as well. Very familiar women. Awake, moving, but still cold from the freezer. Glassy eyed, they actually did not look fully alive. Just alive enough. 

“Are there more? Because those woods back there look very iffy,” Faustina questioned, as casually as someone would when looking for their lost keys. She sat in her billowy dress, legs crossed and hands resting on one bent knee. She smirked wide when the murderer was too  shocked to reply. “What? Nothing to say? What would you like to do, dearest sister?”

“We let him choose his fate,” Felicity finally spoke up. There was a glimmer in Faustina’s eye. She had never seen Felicity prone to actual violence. This was a treat. Though, she gave a disheartened pout when her sister just had to ruin it with all the lawful goody-two-shoes stuff. “We’re calling the cops, and you better sit still and stay here while we all wait for them to arrive.”

“Those three… How are they… what is… going on?” the panic returned to Mr. Canis’s voice. The same panic when he watched Faustina burst into flames as if it were nothing but a change of clothes. 

“Idiot. You have the worst luck ever. You literally, /literally/ put someone cursed by Fortuna in your fate maze, and someone blessed by demons in your fire trap. How dumb. What a /moron/. /Absolute tool!/” Faustina complained and scowled.

“I’m sure your mood’ll improve soon enough,” Felicity said, eyes rolling. She waved a hand and turned away. “I’m stepping out to call the cops. I’ve got the gun on me, but I’m sure you can handle him if he tries anything funny.”

Faustina grinned, watching her sister leave. “No problemo!” She turned her grin, now more feral, to Mr. Canis as she cracked her knuckles. “So, hey, a couple of your ‘former customers’ wanna file some complaints about your little side business here. I recommend you take them very seriously.”

Mr. Canis whimpered, looking between Faustina and the three women lumbering closer. “Are you… are you going to kill me?” he gulped.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to leave it to fate. Ladies, if you get rid of him before sunrise, the spell will resurrect you. The more pain you put him through, the better the rezz,” Faustina said and grinned before turning to leave the room. She shut the door on the horrified, high-pitched shrieking and crying.

Felicity stood outside, arms crossed, like she had just caught a child eating all the cookies from the jar. 

“What? You prefer I don’t rezz them?”

“I’m pretty sure you can just transfer his life force into them without the--” Felicity’s words were interrupted by a blood curdling scream. 

“Yes, but where’s the fun in that? Karma’s a bitch, after all.”

------

Lawd the baddies in the Saw movies piss me off would love monster girls to beat the shit out of them. HUZZAH.

[airingxofxgrievances]

Part 5: The Email

Just before Halloween, my husband got an email from my father. This in and of itself wasn't an unusual occurrence. They email back and forth fairly regularly, which was actually a major surprise to me when I found out, five years or so into our marriage, because my father never emails me. In fact, he barely speaks to me, nothing really outside of the standard "obligatory holiday phone call" cadence. He never has. He's never really shown much interest in me, nor my sister, but here he was exchanging regular emails with my husband. My sister and I just assume that my father always wanted boys. It definitely feels that way. He briefly sent me a flurry of emails during the Democratic primary when he saw me complaining about Biden (I'm a Bernie gal), but that was the extent of our communication for probably six months at least.

My father and my husband have few things in common, but the one thing they do share is time spent working in the same industry. My father worked in radio in Rochester in the 1980s, and my husband currently works in radio and has, ironically, spent some time on the same station my father was on. They know a lot of the same people. They talk "shop" fairly often, with my father still stuck in an 80s mentality, basically a lot of "it was better back in the day" kinds of stuff, and he is completely obsessed with Rush Limbaugh and other right-wing monsters. Mostly my husband just humors him, and it's not always just about radio. Sometimes it's about local politics or sports.

This was not one of those emails. It was a photo of one of my father's friends holding their new grandbaby, with the message, "It appears that all kids aren't paranoid, punitive pricks...  not naming any names...."

My husband is a sweet man, and he replied, "Oh my, whose baby?"

What follows is the rest of the email exchange:

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

My father: Their kids'. This is a happy grandparents post.

My husband: Very cute. Yeah... things suck. I hate this. I don’t like being in the middle and I can’t obviously fix the issues you all have. I’ve tried, for years. As I told mom and I’ll tell you I have no issues with you all and I will make sure you see your grandkids. You can see them in person now if you wear masks or stay away from people for a couple weeks before visiting, I require that regardless of beliefs. Otherwise when this calms down I’ll happily bring them to you or make arrangements here. 

You guys could reach out and try to work this out with them... but ya know. 🤷‍♂️

My father: Clearly (Name) and (Name) are intending to murder their grandchildren and their kids must not be onto them.

No, I get where I stand... all of us Nazis do.

My husband: I didn’t call you that, and I’m not calling you that, and I get you’re angry but I’m not the issue here nor am I your enemy.

My father: I'm not angry. I accept reality, adjust, and move on. I've moved on.

My husband: We all make choices. I don’t like yours but that’s irrelevant clearly. 

Let me know if you want to see them and how. I’ll make it happen the best I can. 

My father: I'm good.

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

So, yeah. Let's review, shall we?

My husband has been trying to maintain open lines of communication between all of us for years. He has said multiple times that they're free to visit if they follow proper masking and socially distancing procedures (which, again, just to reiterate, are state law). Neither myself nor my husband called them Nazis, by the way. That was something that apparently happened between my mother and my sister. But facts and context seem not to matter to my parents.

So my father, out of nowhere, decides to be a sarcastic prick (not even remotely out of character for him. That's basically his entire personality). He does this to the one person who has been nothing but pleasant and accommodating to them. He again refuses to communicate with me, the person he should actually be upset with (I mean, it's not like he has a valid reason to be upset with me, either, but I'm the one in an argument with his wife/my mother, not my poor, long-suffering husband). We assume this is a "man of the house" situation, where "the little woman" is irrelevant.

But he's not mad, though. Nope. Not at all. He's totally over it. He's so over it that he took the time to send a dickish email, complete with photos. And he's definitely good with not seeing his grandkids. So good that he had to send the email. Totally good with the choice.

1. Liar.

2. If he's actually all good with not seeing his grandkids (again, his own choice. We never said they couldn't), I mean, what an incredible piece of shit he is.

But I know that. I've always known that. I've always known that he was an arrogant prick who has to be the center of attention, who only knows how to communicate by picking on everyone around him, by being a bully, and who doesn't actually care about anyone or anything. And he just proved it.

About three days later it would be my mother's turn to prove it.

[the-second-circle-ffxiv]

Cocoa and marshmallows

Iris cursed under her breath, as she made her way through the snowy streets of Ishgard towards Silke’s apartment. The midday was knocking on the door, as the women had finally left the Blacksoul manor. Silke had a day-off, true... but if she had left her apartment already, there would be no way Iris and Eva could find her from the city of size that Ishgard was.

The library, Jeweled Crozier, Second Circle... too many chances. Too many places to go looking from. All Iris could do was hope her friend had slept long, and was still at home. High stiletto heels knocked merrily against the stony walkway, as the two arrived to the apartment building. Silke’s small, lowly flat was located up on the third floor. “...The heckin’ stairs tend to be slippery at dis time o’ a day, Cinnabun... So watch yer heckin’ steps. I’m not gonna catch ya, if yer to fall and break yer neck, just sayin’.”

Iris looked up at a narrow stairway, leading up on the outer wall of the building, and with a sigh, she gathered up her long, black dress, and started making her way up, Eva following just couple of steps behind her. The morning had been warm, and the ice on the stairs had melted away, making their climb that much easier, and in no time, the two arrived onto Silke’s door.

Iris listened for a moment, trying to hear if anyone was home. The walls were like paper around here anyway, but she couldn’t pick up any noises. A lonely dog was barking somewhere in the distance. The voice was too deep to come out of Silke’s little puppy, Laurence. Giving a quick side-glance towards Eva, Iris knocked onto the door.

“‘Ey! Silkee! Blackbird, yer ‘ome?! It’s mi! Open tha door, mi ass is freezin’ ‘ere!! Silkeee! Darlin’!”

Silke flinched awake when she heard knocking on the door. “It wasn't me I swear!” she yelped stupidly, before realizing she had just been dreaming and she was in fact in her own apartment, alone. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock. It was nearly midday. Cursing silently, Silke flung her blanket aside, stepped into her moogle slippers which had been waiting next to her bed and was already about to dash towards the door. Then she remembered she was wearing only tiny panties and black, short nightgown, which barely reached her buttocks and was made of some thin fabric that showed more than she would've wanted to.

The garment actually belonged to Lareine, or Iris, who had left it behind sometime. Silke had ended up wearing the thing after deciding to be effective and washing all of her laundry at once, before noticing she had mashed her both own nightgowns into washings and thus didn't have anything to wear during the night. Luckily her pink morning gown with brash turquoise carbuncle patterns hadn't been among the laundry, so she grabbed it from the sofa and wrapped it around her while hurrying towards the door. Her long, straight, ash black hair was messy but she couldn't have cared less. The damn thing was so thick and slippery it was a mission impossible to try and keep it braided during the night. She was equally indifferent about her dark circles. If someone hadn't seen dark circles by now then it was about bloody time.

“I'm poor and I'm not buying anything!” she announced at the same moment she flung the door open. A wide smile spread on Iris’ black lips as her friend opened the door, wearing her silly carbuncle morning gown and the fluffy moogle slippers. Even when not trying to, Silke looked dashing in Iris’ eyes. The mess of a black hair, like that of a demon from eastern tales just enhanced the effect.

“...And Im not sellin’ anythin’, mi star on da night sky!” She stepped up to the woman, wrapping her arms tightly around her, giving her a squeeze, and breathing in the familiar scent of ink and gunpowder... the scent of home.

“...Fockin’ ‘ell, I was afraid ya ‘ad left da buildin’ already! I missed ya, gal!” Iris released her friend, quickly fixing her round glasses, which the hug had tipped on the side, which together with her messy locks, made Silke look bit like she had just survived an explosion. “...I just ‘ave to tell ya everythin’! Ya wont believe whut’s ‘appenin’ back at tha manor... A major shitestorm. I guess... uhh... someone finally dropped a match onto the fockin’ barrel o’ gunpowder dats been sittin’ casually between Grumpy and Lucy... Oh...”

Iris stepped aside, giving some space to Eva, still standing behind her on the narrow stairway. “...Dis is... Evangelin’! I stumbled upon ‘er in tha church, ya know... She was comin’ to look for a goddess, and she found mi instead! Which... in tha end is not too far as a heckin’ outcome, or whut do ya dink? Aniway, we are kinda ‘avin’ a deal... Guess Grumpy is hirin’ her, so she can pay mi for company... ‘Er gal left ‘er to fock ‘round wid sum random lad somewhere, so I’m kinda ‘elpin’ ‘er to fock dat said gal outta ‘er head!”

Then she turned back to Evangeline. “Cinnabun, dis is Silke! Mi heckin’ fallen angel... Isn’t she just dashin’?” A sly smirk played on Iris’ lips, as she glanced towards Eva, before quickly moving her attention back to the viera at the door. “...Ya ‘ave dat tea of yer’s still, darlin’? Guess who’s been almost heckin’ sober for a month!” Iris was chattering up a storm. Though Evangeline hadn’t known her for long, she knew that this had to be unusual for the sarcastic, abrasive woman she had just met a few days ago.  Around everyone else Iris painted over herself a veneer of prickly indifference that kept most, if not all, at arm’s length.  Even Arsene, who she seemed to be most accustomed to, or at least the most comfortable with, was still held at quite the distance. This though... this was different. Evangeline couldn’t hope to compare to this. Iris was beaming, ecstatic to see this woman... a jumble of words exiting her mouth at neck-breaking speed.

She was almost tripping over her words trying to tell Silke anything and everything she possibly could. Somewhat dazed, Evangeline inspected Silke as Iris spoke, half-tuning out what the slight viera was saying. The woman in the doorway was undeniably adorable. She was clearly frazzled, having probably just woken up to the sound of someone at her door. She seemed bookish, from a combination of her round glasses which sat slightly askew on her nose, her frame, and what Eva could see of her dwelling... which seemed to be crammed wall-to-wall with literature.

This was about to be a long conversation... a visit between Iris, the woman who had Eva wrapped around her finger, and Silke, the woman with whom Iris seemed to be very much in love. At the thought of the word ‘love’ the little green monster struck at Evangeline’s stomach. Its spines were particularly sharp today... Eva didn’t know how much of this she could take. She tried to hide her pensive expression with a smile, waving slightly to Silke as Iris mentioned her name. Evangeline watched with mounting horror as Iris kept talking, though... explaining not only everything that had happened after the incident at the church, but also mentioning what exactly had happened during the incident... namely the carnal encounter the two of them had shared, and the fact that Eva was paying for Iris’ company. She supposed it had been foolish to hope that Iris wouldn’t delight in telling every living soul of their arrangement, but it was still painfully embarrassing. She looked at the ground, her face hot to the point that she thought she might be pressing it against an oven. She could barely extract words, but managed to anyways.

“G-good morning... p-pleased to make your acquaintance”, Evangeline was able to squeak, and accompanied it with a modest curtsy, hands gripping tightly at the skirts of her dress. She was unable to bring herself to meet eyes with Silke, instead choosing to inspect the steps upon which she was standing, waiting for her to laugh... or respond... somehow. Iris let out such a sudden flood of words that at first, Silke, who was still half asleep, couldn't do anything but stare her eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. She clumsily patted Iris' back while she hugged her.

“Me? Nooo...”, Silke gave a laugh. “If I, for once, get to sleep late, then hells yeah that's what I'm gonna do. I wonder whose voidspawn's ingenious idea it was that everyone should get up while it's still dark? Purely idiotic, if you ask me. Messes up our natural circadian rhythm and probably causes a whole lot of heart attacks and such, geez...”

When Iris started to talk about the drama between Varg and Lucian, Silke couldn't help but lick her lips greedily. She was usually allergic to drama, but that certain one was like straight from some really bad soap opera. Silke had never truly understood people who were too interested in others' business and loved to gossip, but because of this one case she had perhaps started to understand them on some level.

Silke let out a frustrated sound. “You must tell me immediately if something happens, Iris”, she pleaded. “I'm having lots of exams coming up and I'm very very busy, but I'm still willing to halve my cramming time if it means I can witness the outcome. Make your way into my school if you have to, aight? Rather early, so we can grab some popcorn.”

When it was time for Iris' introduction of Evangeline, and description of what they had been doing together, Silke felt an unpleasant sting of jealousy. She had been so absorbed by the delicious news Iris had brought, that she hadn't paid much attention to the other viera until now. Evangeline seemed like complete opposite – at least externally – to Silke. She seemed somewhat older, her body was toned and her face radiated health. Her dark skin and flaming hair reminded Silke of a torch or pyre.

'And the most important thing, she wants to fock', a little voice in Silke's mind reminded.

Its goal had probably been to upset her, but instead of pushing it away like usual, Silke just let it linger there, agreeing with it. Indeed, this woman was able to give Iris what I can't, she thought to herself.

What in the world was going on in Iris' mind, though? Why was she telling her this? Silke was aware of Iris' occupation, but still this wasn't the kind of information one just blurted loudly around like that. Silke both hated and loved her imagination, which was able to paint pictures, like works of art rich in detail in her mind. It helped tremendously with studying. Though, in situations like this it burned some truly unwanted images on her retinas forever. Besides, now her neighbors knew as well. The other two could see very pale pink splotches appearing on her cheeks before they vanished almost instantly.

“That's... interesting?” Silke noted and nodded politely at Evangline, trying to shoo away the mental image while looking at her. Immediately Silke rebuked herself. Who the heck said 'interesting' after someone had been just describing in detail about their intercourse? Well... herself, apparently.

“I mean, um... nice”, she corrected, smiling – while hoping it didn't look too much like a grimace - and slapping her hands together. “I'm glad to hear you're having a good time with each other.”

Silke rebuked herself again. 'Nice' sounded even more awkward.

“Um... yes, I have tea”, she answered Iris, while stepping aside so that the other two could enter. “And cocoa too. Come in, come in. I want to hear more.” 'Oh. My. Gods', she thought. “Like, IN GENERAL.” Silke was acting weirdly, Iris thought to herself, as she stepped past her friend, letting her hand brush against Silke’s rear as she entered the house. Well, Silke was the type who usually acted weirdly, but this? Even for Silke, this would be considered weird. Iris had noticed the slight blush rising on her friend’s pale cheeks, yet fading away as quickly as it had appeared, like a dream you suddenly wake up from. Had it even been there?

Silke did blush, but in the end, it was very rare for the woman. Such thing sometimes occurred when Silke was angry and confused... or wanted to take something cute home. But right now? This was different. Was... Silke jealous? Silke? Jealous of her?

Well, if the situation was so, it was just as Iris had planned it in the first place! But why did she feel a sting in her heart? Like someone was pushing an icicle through it.

Pale viera walked up to the sofa, and threw herself down onto it, next to Laurence who rose his head, giving a quick glance at her, before curling up once again. Iris gave the dog a gentle rub behind his little orange ear. The shiba seemed like he had mostly forgiven what Iris had done back in the day, but still had some mistrust towards her.

“Ohh, cocoa would be just frickin’ lovely...”, she was about to add if Silke could top it with a sliver of rum, but realized it was not the best idea, after she had just told her friend about the month sober... Or well, sober was maybe not the right word to describe it, as Iris still drank. A month without drinking herself under the table, maybe?

All in all, Iris knew Silke never had alcohol at home. The ghostly viera had a bad habit to grab a bottle under stress, and that’s what Silke definitely had with her studies... Stress.

Iris followed Eva, as her companion walked in after her. Keeping her eyes locked onto woman, she gave a quick, meaningful nod towards the armchair, with a blue carbuncle plushie laying on its armrest. The icicle was digging its way into her heart, and having Eva sit down next to her on the sofa, would bring on the hammer, that would smash the icicle right through.

“...Its a fockin’ all out war back dere at tha manor soon, I tell ya...”, Iris started, crossing her legs, while still giving some affection to the shiba inu. The soft fur of the dog helped to ease her nerves a bit.

Keeping her eyes locked on Silke, working on her small kitchen of a kind, Iris went through everything that had happened. From Lucian finding her and Eva from the church, to their arrival into the manor, and from Varg possibly hiring Eva, to Arsene bringing in the hitman couple to guard the property.

“It’s a heckin’ powder keg back dere, sweetie... Dat ding only needs a fockin’ spark, and it’s gonna blow up, wipin’ tha city off tha map.” Iris’ black lips curled up into a devilish grin. “I’ll make sure to keep ya informed of every heckin’ turn, Blackbird... Because dis shite will end up to tha fireworks of a fockin’ lifetime, I tell ya... Blacksoul is pissed off like a heckin’ hog in a heat. Lucy’s gonna eat ‘is meals wid ‘is arsehole for a good while, if he’s to shows his fockin’ smug face in tha manor..” Evangeline ascended the stairs behind Iris, still trying to avert her eyes from Silke, who seemed to have ignored at least some of the comments entirely. She seemed so very different from Eva had thought she would be... in a lot of ways, Evangeline had pictured that Silke would be... much like Iris. Another rough-around-the-edges, prickly dancer that would have loved the opportunity to have a laugh with Iris over Eva’s embarrassment. Not someone who, for every intent and purpose, appeared to be a scholar.

And yet here they were, wandering into the home of someone who probably possessed more intelligence in her little finger than Evangeline had in her whole body. That was... an odd feeling... was she intimidated? Was this the sort of thing that Iris truly wanted? Scholarly discussions? Perhaps that was why Evangeline was so thoroughly bound to the often referred to position ‘second fiddle.’ What an odd sensation... she wasn’t used to feeling like this. Intimidation came in the form of combat prowess, no?  Eva hadn’t felt intimidated by anyone in years... Even Andreas, the man who had swept Solenna away, hadn’t intimidated her. Over seven fulms tall... strong as an ox... but Eva had been sure that she could have placed his face squarely in the dirt had he come to fight her. This, though... this was different.

Eva entered the room, taking a seat in the armchair at Iris’ behest. Silke certainly liked... what were these things called... the little green aether pups that she had heard some of the other soldiers in her regiment discussing on occasion. Eva did think they were rather cute... but they must be difficult to hug, given that they weren’t... solid? Or were they? Evangeline looked to Silke again, standing there... damnably adorable still, in her half-awake state. She seemed to be waiting for something.

“Oh... um... tea, if you don’t mind. Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

She managed keeping her best straight face. Her eyes drifted across the bookshelves, packed with literature, with knowledge. Knowledge that Evangeline couldn’t hope to touch... not in a thousand years. She enjoyed reading her history books... but that was another thing entirely. It was just stories of battles and who won them and why. It wasn’t... whatever this was.

Study of aether...of magic, perhaps? That would explain the near ubiquitous presence of carbuncles throughout the apartment. Evangeline’s mind fell back through time for a moment though... to Iris in the church. Mentioning magic. Almost spitting as she did. She seemed so displeased by the practice at the time... so why would Silke be studying magic? Perhaps this was something different... chemistry... biology... who could guess?

“Wh-what is it... that you study, if you don’t mind me asking?” Stuttering again... damn. Why was this woman so intimidating?

Evangeline could hardly stand it, feeling this way. Stammering and stuttering around Iris was one thing... Eva had thought her a special case. She clenched her fists, looking around the room again to try and distract herself when... she saw… A puppy. An adorable little... Evangeline didn’t know the name of the breed... but it had a cute little pointed nose and triangular ears and orange fuzzy fur and it was laying next to Iris and it completely derailed Eva’s train of thought. She looked at it for a moment, sitting there and enjoying scritches from Iris, before blurting out the first thing that came back to her mind.

“C-can I pet your dog?”

Silke shivered slightly when Iris' hand touched her butt. The hells was she first bragging about her intercourses with Evangeline and then right after touching Silke's arse? Sure, Silke and Iris weren't in a relationship and Iris was free to do whatever and with whoever she wanted. Silke had already – bitterly – accepted it. But the thing that baffled her right now was that Iris just had to rub it in. Why? Silke couldn't even imagine being capable of doing something like that to the people she cared about the most. Silke had been having an impression there hadn't been any bad blood left between herself and Iris. Had she been wrong the whole time?

For a fleeting moment Silke felt an urge to yell 'You know what? Fock it!' and kick Iris out again. Maybe even speed up her departure with some carefully aimed lightning bolts. She got a hold of herself almost right away, though. She could never become a revered archmage if she behaved like some wretched punk or let her feelings get a grasp of her.

"Hot cocoa and tea - coming right up!" Silke announced after closing the door and turning around, smiling widely this time. The gesture was forced, perhaps, but at least she felt it wasn't as stiff as it had been earlier. She was getting good at this. Perhaps she should've become an actress instead. "I have whipped cream and marshmallows to put into cocoa, and milk and sugar for tea. Which one do you guys prefer, or would you rather drink your stuff completely without?"

"I'll take frickin' both, sweetheart!" Iris answered. "Like a heckin' mountain o' whipcream... and couple o' marshmallows... Whut ever ya wanna stick onto it, go for it."

"Milk and honey if you have it... or, um... milk and sugar if you don't. Thank you...", Evangeline scratched her jawline reservedly, immediately regretting requesting honey. It was a common food in Gridania, but probably was more of a delicacy in Ishgard.

At least Evangeline seemed like a civilized case, Silke thought. The dark viera didn't seem to enjoy the situation as much as Iris did, which meant she probably hadn't even known about Silke – or Iris' occupation for that matter – before she had agreed to... whatever they had going on right now. Silke had heard the saying 'opposites attract', but had never truly understood it. She still didn't. Silke had had many relationships with very different people than herself and all of them had ended into a catastrophe.

Silke filled a pot with fresh water and threw some firewood into the stove. A bright flame appeared from thin air just above her fingertip, and Silke blew it into the stove, igniting the firewood. While waiting for the water to boil she was digging her messy cabinet and trying to find the damn whipped cream and marshmallows. Meantime, Iris was explaining in more detail what had occurred lately. When Iris started to talk about the incident in the old church, something happened that felt like gods themselves would've decided to spit in Silke's face just for laughs.

She had found some godsdamned huge jar of jam from the cabinet, lifted it with her other hand, and noticed the marshmallows behind it. Keeping an eye on the water, listening to Iris repeating things Silke wouldn't have wanted to hear about, and trying to reach the marshmallow package from the cabinet that looked like an aftermath of some imperial mana bomb, had apparently been too much for her concentration to bear. Her grip slipped and the jar crashed into the sink, making a noise that was probably heard at the other side of the block of flats.

"Shiteberries!" she blurted with passion. "It's all good, no biggie!" she yelled towards the living room. "I've got it under control!"

The jar had broken into three huge chunks. Luckily there didn't seem to be any shards in the jam. 'I must save it!' was Silke's first thought after recovering from the worst wave of annoyance. 'One does not simply throw away food. No, no.'

"Black magic and summoning!" Silke yelled towards the living room again over the sound of boiling water, while grabbing an empty jar and starting to spoon the jam from the sink into it. "And pet ahead, if he lets you, miss Evangeline! He tends to be suspicious towards strangers and warms up slowly!"

Lucian had always given Silke the creeps. That was the main reason she liked to make fun of him. The things one feared tended to lose their power if one was able to make jokes of them. Despite Silke holding up her cheerful facade, and simultaneously containing her rage, a tiny glimmer of genuine amusement dug its way through it all while a mental image of the highborn elezen eating his meal with his arse had formed in Silke's mind. She bit her lip so that she wouldn't have laughed aloud.

"Thanks. Now I can't unsee that one either", she mumbled while spooning and having a race against time: how much jam could she save before it was all dripped down the sewer? “Isn’t she just a fockin’ dashiest piece o’ ass ya ‘ave ever seen?” Iris laid back onto the sofa, legs crossed and one hand rubbing Laurence’s neck. “If the gods are real, dey were fockin’ horny as a rat when dey made dat gal. And I bet dats why dey made her a heckin’ bookworm in tha first place. To keep ‘er all for demselves! Selfish fockers...”

Silke was still acting weird though, and it drove Iris crazy. She knew her friend well enough to tell when something was amiss, and now there definitely was something. Silke’s smile had been forced... faked even. It was the smile Silke had on her lips, when she was in a very unpleasant situation, and just wanted to get through it fast. Eva also, had started to act weird after entering the apartment. What was wrong with everyone today?

Deep inside, Iris noticed she started to regret bringing the two into the same room in the first place. What had started as a perfect plan in her head, had suddenly turned into a weird dream, where she was locked into an apartment with two beautiful women, who she... for different reasons cared for? Yet those women were but a couple of meatsuits, which some creature had possessed.

Iris wanted to wake up. Though, if she had truly been in a dream, a loud crash echoing from the kitchen at the halfway of her story would have waken her up.

“Yer okai back dere, Blackbird?!” Iris shouted towards the kitchen, after hearing Silke’s loud curse, startling Laurence from his sleep in the process. "It's all good, no biggie!" answered Silke’s voice almost instantly.

Iris gave a quick glance towards Evangeline, rising her brow with a shrug, and finished the story, finally getting up to the point where they had left the manor. Silke was still in the kitchen. The sound of a boiling water had rose to company the weird sound of scraping metal on metal. It seemed like Silke had no intention on moving the pot off the flames though.

“Fockin ‘ell, I’ll go see whut the fock is ‘appenin’ back dere... Dats not like ‘er... at all.”

Iris stepped past Evangeline, brushing her cheek with the back of her finger while going, and headed into a kitchen. The sight before her eyes made Iris’ jaw drop for a moment. Silke, scraping jam out of the sink like her life depended on it, and a teapot, boiling over on the stove, sending steaming hot water down on the flames with an angry hissing that sounded like a pit of snakes.

“What tha fock, Silke?!” Iris finally blurted out, as she got back her voice all of the sudden. She rushed to the stove, moving the pot off the flames, but while doing so, her hand slipped on the handle, sending the lid flying off and spilling boiling hot water onto her arm. “Shiteclippers! Fockin’ ghhh...”, her curse turned into a shriek, but she still somehow managed to place the pot onto the table.

Her arm was on fire, and the pale white skin had started to gain pinkish tint and couple of blisters where the water had hit. “Silke, whut the ‘ell is wrong wid ya, sweetheart?! Ya did not get ani water on ya, did ya?!” With the heat still radiating up on her arm, like thousand little needles, Iris took a grip of Silke’s shoulders, turning the woman around, and wrapping arms around her.

With Silke’s affirmation, Evangeline slowly approached the cute little dog and extended her hand to him, hoping he would be okay with her lightly scratching behind his ear. She was as gentle as she could be, carefully extending her digits towards his nose, when a loud crash from the kitchen caused her to start, feeling like she jumped almost a yalm into the air.  Her heart rate picked up and she looked around, hoping for something weapon-adjacent to be present in the room somewhere.  She settled on the poker by the fireplace, reaching for it slowly, when Iris shouted back to her, seemingly unperturbed by what could’ve been the shattering of a window.

“It’s all good, no biggie!” Silke’s voice sounded off from the kitchen.

Evangeline relaxed slightly, a bit less worried of an intruder now. She wondered how Iris could be so blase-faire about the whole deal, given that she seemed to have more than a few people that would happily see her dead. Iris finished her story regardless, wrapping it up and muttering, “Fockin ‘ell, I’ll go see whut the fock is ‘appenin’ back dere...  Dats not like ‘er..at all.”

As she walked past Evangeline, heading towards the kitchen, she brushed the dark skinned viera’s cheek as she passed, causing her heart rate to quicken once more. Evangeline sighed and went to turn her attention back to the dog, when she heard further exclamations from the kitchen, followed by a shriek from Iris. Before Eva could think about what she was doing, she was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, poker in hand, just in time to see Iris throw her arms around Silke.

The pot on the table filled with still-bubbling water and the splash on the ground told the story of what had happened, though. Though Evangeline’s emotions battled in her mind, coming to a head in the face of the two women embracing, it was as if someone had flipped the switch in her head, finally, that said ‘high pressure situation’.

Her emotions dulled, and the world grew grey around her, as her body took over. She took the pot, placing it on a potholder with ease, to ensure that the table wouldn’t burn. Placing the poker in the corner, she moved to Iris, who she assumed was the most injured. Stepping around the two, Evangeline assessed for injuries, quickly noticing the blisters rising on Iris’ forearm and asked: “Silke, do you know how to dress a wound?”

"The hells would I know? Do I look like some damn white mage?" Silke cried out, sounding both frustrated and shocked, but still clearly more of the former.

“Right... very well. I know little of burns, but I will go find someone who does. Run cold water over the burn, and I’ll go find an apothecary for proper bandages and whatever else we need. There is one near here, isn’t there?”

Evangeline stepped back from the two. She didn’t touch Iris. She didn’t touch either of them. It wasn’t like Iris wanted her here, anyways... this was all she could do. Perhaps she could be useful, and the two could be left to themselves. At Silke’s response, she turned and walked from the room, out the door and into the chilly Ishgardian air. Silke twitched slightly when Iris hugged her, but she still wrapped her arms timidly around her, shocked that Iris had just gotten boiling water on her. Silke wasn't squeezing like Iris did, though. The heck was she getting all close and personal so suddenly?

"What's wrong you ask, princess?" Silke repeated, slightly aghast. "Everything was just fine before you came and started throwing the pot around! I accidentally dropped some godsdamned jar, which appeared to be heavier than it first seemed, into the sink. I would've taken care of the pot in a moment! ...And... no, I didn't get any water on me", she added a bit more calmly, when they let go of each other.

Then Evangeline, too, arrived into the kitchen. These two dumbasses were like some damn knights trying to save a damsel in distress, Silke thought sourly. While Evangeline was examining Iris' burns, Silke stared at the two, gritting her teeth. There she was again, with her older and more mature companion, who - without a doubt - already had some renowned career behind her.

Silke took a quick glance at herself; her carbuncle morning gown and moogle slippers. Were they the reasons everyone insisted treating her like a child? Because she liked cute things? Or was it something in herself? Something about her behavior, perhaps? Her absent-mindedness? The farther she got with her studies the more sceptical people seemed to be about her fending. First Asagi, then Silke's school'mates', and now even Iris.

When Evangeline asked did Silke know anything about taking care of wounds, she couldn't help but cry out: "The hells would I know? Do I look like some damn white mage?"

She could put a bandage on paper cut but that was pretty much it. The yell had already left her lips before Silke remembered she had just made herself a promise to be more sophisticated and controlled. Before she got her mouth open again, Evangeline was already on her way and had stepped outside.

Silke stared at the door for a while. At least Evangeline had had a good reason to go, but it also annoyed Silke, that every single time, when she and Iris were spending time with other people than each other, Asagi or Arsene – which was very rare – sooner or later their company vanished somewhere, leaving Silke and Iris alone. Why, why did it always happen? Of course Silke enjoyed spending time with Iris, but she was also craving other friends. She didn't want to be depending on only one person. Yet it was either her or Iris - or worse, both of them - who managed to drive away other people. As Eva had left the building, Iris looked at the blisters on her aching arm, and walked up to the sink. What was left of the jam, was now lazily making its way down the hole. It was unlikely that cold water would do any good at this point, but Iris opened the tap anyway, letting the ice cold water run for a while, washing away the jam, before sticking her arm under it, grimacing.

“Yeah, guess I heckin’ overreacted. The damn pot was throwin’ water around like a frickin’ volcano, and I freaked out, as I thought it boild over onto ya...” Iris  looked at her arm, still holding it under the running water. It was not looking pretty, but could have been worse. Maybe it could heal without leaving a scar.

“Just look at mi, Blackbird. I keep destroyin’ thin’s, no matter whut I do. For fock’s sake, I hated mi mother, for being a damn useless wreck she was. And now? Shite. Its almost like tha heckin’ apple surely wont fall far from da tree...”, she gave a quick glance towards her friend, before closing the tap, and carefully drying her onto a towel. “...I’m heckin’ joyful yer alright though. Dink we could still make dat cocoa?” Iris walked up to the pot, peeking inside it, and coming to the conclusion it was still half-full of water. Maybe it would do for three smaller cups.

The burning pain on the arm started to return soon after she had dried it up, but, biting hardly onto her lip, she more or less successfully hided the fact from Silke. “Sssshite...”, viera hissed under her breath, feeling like someone had been spanking her arm with a bunch of nettles for an hour straight.

Years back, when she was still living on the streets of Limsa Lominsa, the guards had caught her from pickpocketing, and rolled her in a huge bush of nettle for it. The feeling on her arm, brought the old memory to life in her head.

“...W..Whut ya gonna drink, Blackbird? Tea maybe? C... Could s...share a cocoa wid ya too... Ya know whut dey ‘ave in dose fancy heckin’ restaurants... Dose straws dat go whirly around each other, and ya can share a drink all heckin’ romantically and shite. We could get one of dose. ‘Aight?”

This was one of those moments Silke found herself once again wondering: how the hells did Iris do it? At one moment she was all sweet and thoughtful, then a couple of minutes later a complete arsehat. And then a moment later sweet again, and so on. Or perhaps the most important question was: why? And which one was the real one?

"I'd rather drink all of my cocoa by myself", Silke explained after a short pause, with a hint of formality in her voice. "I should probably start drinking from a barrel or something anyway, since regular mugs or glasses seem to contain way too little for my tastes."

“Well...”, Iris shrugged, knocking the pot with her fingernail. “Dis thin’ is ‘alf empty, so wont fill a barrel wid dis, but... We should all still get a heckin’ mugful...”

Iris’ voice lacked the energy it had a moment ago, suddenly sounding rather tired. Her gaze traveled in the room, from the door, to the flames still dancing on the stove, and to a carbuncle clock, hanging on the wall. She could not look Silke in the eyes. She very well knew she had once again let down the woman she loved. And that love burned in her chest, hotter than the flames on the stove... harder to ignore than the burning sensation on her arm. Yet why was it she could only bring misery into Silke’s life? Time after time after time.

“...I’m gonna find dat whipcream and candies, if ya mix tha cocoa, okai..?” she finally sighed, moving up to the cabinet, starting to go through the foodstuff Silke had stored. Soon she pulled out a small back of marshmallows, waving it in the air, in front of Silke’s eyes. “Lookie-look whut I found! Lets just stack a mad pile of dese onto tha whipcream! It will be fockin’ beautiful... Like a heckin’ tiny snow castle... ‘Aight?”

*** Evangeline walked briskly down the steps, her goal clear in her mind. A chill sat in the air, the same that seemed to sit permanently in Ishgard, regardless of the time of year.  Eva could see her breath, just barely, a vaporous cloud that was constantly being remade and dispersed as she exhaled and strode through it. She wore a wry smile, unsure of what exactly she should be feeling right now. She had time to walk, time to herself, time with her own thoughts. Though this, to her, felt like a punishment worse than death, perhaps she could straighten this whole thing out in her head.  Find out where she stood.  What she should do next.

Very well... let’s look at the facts, she thought, releasing a sigh inwardly.

Fact: Iris and I just met.  We have formed an odd sort of arrangement that has her spending time with me for compensation.

Fact: Iris and I slept together. I enjoyed it and she seemed to enjoy it. Evangeline moved slightly out of the way, angling her body to the side so that she could fit between a merchant’s stand and a heavyset man that was moving in the other direction.

Fact: I pulled Iris from a breakdown. She seems to struggle with another personality of some kind. She seemed expectant that I would leave after finding that out. I did not. Also, she fell asleep in my arms. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing she usually does. She wiped her nose. It must surely be red at this point, with how chilly it was outside.

Fact: She has shown some level of interest in me. She dreaded stating this next one to herself.

Fact: I have... fallen for Iris. Against my better judgement in every way. She has a pull over me that I haven’t truly experienced before, and I can’t fight it.

F-fact... Iris... I-Iris is in l-love... with S-Silke.

That thought was what did it. That was the one that set the tears flowing. Eva kept walking, her goal still clear in her mind, but with tears pouring down her cheeks. How had she done this to herself... jumped straight from one failing relationship into another one. She had left Solenna... sweet, wonderful Solenna...for this? A pale, thin viera woman... so thin that she seemed malnourished... who could barely manage to give her the time of day if she asked?

And on top of all of that... she was so clearly in love with Silke. The woman was all over her! Iris did nothing but praise Silke... her perfect little angel. The apple of her eye. This begged the question, though... why weren’t the two of them together? Was it Iris? Her refusal to be tied down? Or was there something about Silke that Evangeline didn’t know…? There’s no way...no way Iris wouldn’t have said something.  She must have confessed her feelings to Silke.

Evangeline turned a corner, tears still stinging at her face. She wiped at her nose again, and then her eyes, wiping them first and then rubbing at them, hoping that she didn’t look to be too much of a mess. She sniffled, and continued walking, seeing the Apothecary’s sign in the distance. Perhaps she should just excuse herself, and return to the manor. Maybe the two of them wanted time alone.

But... if that was the case, why had Iris invited her? She had seemed fairly eager to bring Eva along... despite her outburst in the bathroom. It was just... so damnably confusing. Did Iris want her?  Did Iris not want her? Was she a substitute for Silke? Or was she something different?

All of these questions went unanswered, though, as Evangeline stepped through the door to the Apothecary. She must have looked quite the sight, 6 fulms, 2 ilms of musclebound viera, ducking under the doorway to keep room enough for her ears as she did. Flushed from the cold, tears clinging to her cheeks... not something you would normally see on the streets of Ishgard. She stepped up to the shopkeeper, clearing her throat.

“G-good morning…”, she sniffled again, wiping at her nose. “Do you have anything that would help with a burn?  And some clean bandages?”

The merchant, a rather young looking miqo'te man, took a moment to first absorb the sight of Evangeline, and then another to process what she was asking for.

“Uhm... er.. .y-yes. The aloe lotion, over in the corner on the second highest shelf. And we have bandages right here at the counter. Just... apply the lotion, it should help with the pain. Wrap it in bandages, and change them every four hours. You’ll probably want to reapply the lotion when you change them.”

Evangeline nodded in thanks, and efficiently collected her goods, paying for them with gil from a small pouch she kept tied around her waist.  She took her leave, waving at the young man, who looked as if he wanted to say something as she was leaving, but decided not to.

She exited the shop, back into the cold air. It was starting to feel a bit more punishing, and Eva could see a few snowflakes starting to dot the sky in the distance. She would be back soon. She almost wanted to drop off the bandages and then leave, but... maybe she should stay a little bit. See how things played out. Maybe she could get a little bit more understanding of the situation... because she refused to let go of Iris without being sure she wasn’t wanted. She kept moving forward, upset, angry, sad, and tired...but a bit more determined than she had been a few minutes ago.

***

Silke gave Iris a small nod, before grabbing a pouch of cocoa powder and starting to spoon it into the cups. She was working near the small kitchen window, glancing at the gray inner court every now and then, and her back turned to Iris.

Overall Silke saw herself as a positive person. She didn't truly hate anything, although she often joked about it. Hate was such a powerful word. But if someone had asked her to point just one thing she could say she truly hated, it would've been mixed signals, messing with her. Most people tended to mess with her in one way or another, and at least with her inner circle Silke wanted to feel safe enough to lower her defenses. Keeping them up constantly was tiring and it ate her from the inside.

'It was supposed to be over', she thought. 'We had our misunderstandings and arguments, we overcame them and we were just fine. Why did she have to continue it? She could've done her thing with Evangeline, heck, even bring her here. But why rub it in? I'm too tired for this shite.'

When Iris found the marshmallows and said they'd make the cocoa toppings like a snow castle, Silke felt tears trying to come out. Stubbornly she pushed them back while biting her lip, before glancing at Iris over her shoulder, smiling and agreeing lightly:

"Sounds fancy. Just the thought of it makes me almost feel our blood vessels blocking up." She turned around and started to stir the drinks. "But still, oh, so delicious. Why must everything unhealthy be so delicious?"

Silke glanced outside again, towards the gray sky. After the exams of this month were over, the students could choose a place to go study more how things worked in practice. So far they had been mostly studying theory of all general subjects, and only doing some smaller and safer experiments while their teachers had been watching them closely. Now was the time for action, and the beginning of specialized studies. Silke was about to dive into the studies of a battle mage and destructive alchemy. She pondered to herself which post could possibly be the farthest one away from Ishgard. “Why? Because tha world is a heckin’ unfair place, Blackbird”, Iris said. “In a damn perfect world, we would be livin’ in a frickin’ castle somewhere in tha mountains. ‘Ave a damn barrel o’ cocoa, a bath’ouse and a fockin’ basement full o’ blastin’ powder and booze to play wid.”

Iris rolled a single marshmallow between her fingers, squeezing it down, and watching it  slowly buff back up, as she loosened her grip. “...Yet ‘ere we are. In a fockin’ apartment flat, in a city filled with damn arseplucks who dont get us. Like fockin’ birds in a cage...”, she flipped the candy into her mouth, turning to Silke, who was still working with her cocoa mix.

Silke was so beautiful. In her own, rather curious way, she was stunning. After a while, Iris caught herself staring at her friend, the marshmallow still lingering on her tongue. Viera shook her head, picking up another candy from the bag, and reaching it towards Silke, holding it an inch away from woman’s lips. Silke’s spoon stopped moving, and she placed it down on the table. Carefully, she took the candy from Iris, holding it for a moment, and placing it into her mouth.

Oh, how much Iris had hoped for the woman to pick the candy from her fingers, using her lips. She had almost seen it happening in her mind, but then again... Silke would never do such a thing. What was she even thinking? Most likely nothing. The tears were burning her eyes, almost masking away the burning sensation on her arm, but she kept them in, flipping another candy into her mouth. She missed though, the soft candy hitting her on the cheek, and falling onto the table.

“...I’m workin’ mi fockin’ ass off to make sum cash. It’s... gonna take some time, as yer sissie has cut mi shifts to ‘alf lately, but... I’m gettin’ dere, Silke... And... And when I ‘ave got sum savin’s, I thought I could... Ya know... Get sum own place sumwhere, and I thought...” A sound of door opening interrupted Iris in the middle of the sentence, and she hissed a curse under her breath. “...We are in tha fockin’ kitchen, Evangelin’!” she shouted towards the doorway, her long, sickly fingers gripping the bag of marshmallows spasmodically. Evangeline slid the door open, a paper bag of medical supplies clutched in her hand. She had tried to wipe at her eyes and her nose as much as possible, and though she had cleared them both (or so she thought) she could only assume that her smudged eyeliner and her most likely running mascara would display that she had been crying. She supposed that she would deal with that when the time came-for now, at least, she wanted to focus on the task at hand. Iris’ arm needed to be bandaged... she must be in incredible pain right now. Eva’s feelings could wait.

She startled at the sound of Iris’ shout. She seemed upset... which stood to reason with a burned arm. Eva stepped briskly into the kitchen, noting the two vieras seemed to be casually conversing. Iris must have an impressive pain tolerance... ran through her head as she saw how Iris was standing. When she met Iris’ eyes, though, she was a bit taken aback by the other woman’s expression.

Had Eva done something wrong? Offended her somehow? She shook her head, trying to clear out the stray thoughts. That would be a question for later…

Evangeline moved to the sink, excusing herself as she moved past Silke, and washed her hands. Water, soap, water, towel. She picked up the bag from the side of the sink, wandering over to Iris and removing a roll of bandages, a roll of medical tape, and a small metal container from the bag. She gestured to Iris to show her arm.

“We need to put this cream on your arm. It will calm the burn and lessen the pain. Then we wrap it in this bandage, and change it every four hours until it’s not causing you as much pain. Would you like to sit down so I can get it wrapped up?”  Evangeline looked at Iris and gave the brightest smile she could muster. “I’m fine, Evangelin’! It’s just a heckin’ small burn... Will... ‘eal on its own by the damn mornin’...”, Iris looked at her burned arm, which was visibly shaking, like dead leaves in a breeze. She felt the burn, like it was creeping into her bones. On top of that, the arm had started to ache, sending arrows of pain up towards elbow, and down to her fingers, still holding onto the bag of marshmallows.

“...Fockin’ ‘ell, fine! Do whut ya wish... But change every fourth ‘our, ya say? Ya ‘ear dat, Silke? Yer gonna come over to sleep wid mi, and change mi bandages, and kiss da pain awai, hm?” Iris took one more candy out of the bag, before placing the back on the table, right next to Silke, and making her way to a tiny dinner table, which was loaded with books on a dangerously unsteady pile. Viera sat down onto the chair, placing her elbow onto the table, so her arm was hanging on air. “...Do ya mind, if I smoke, darlin?” Why in the seven hells does she keep talking about 'us', Silke thought, stirring the cocoas even more furiously, although the powder had dissolved into the drinks ages ago. Iris was truly hopeless. Silke had explained to her in words of one syllable why it just wouldn't work, and how it would only cause them both more pain. And despite it all here they were again. Should she draw some godsdamned diagram about it next? It probably wouldn't work either. Iris' skull was apparently too thick for receiving information.

Silke felt, oddly enough, somewhat relieved when she heard the door in the hallway and realized Evangeline had returned. At least now she wouldn't have to listen to all this sweet talk, which made Silke remember all the good moments she and Iris had had together, and which were now like acid poured into her reopened wounds. She grabbed the whipped cream container from the table and squeezed so much cream into every mug, that the cocoas ended up looking like soft ice served in mugs.

Meanwhile Evangeline was tending Iris, Silke took one of the mugs and sat on the other side of the table, opposite the two others. She was observing them closely, while poking her spoon into the cream, taking a full load of hot cocoa and cream, poked it into her mouth, into the cream again and so on. Silke noticed Evangeline's reddish eyes. She had probably been crying. Silke had had somewhat mixed feelings towards her, but right now she was mainly feeling sorry for her. Iris was probably just playing with them both.

Silke couldn't help but frown at Iris' comment. For a moment she froze to stare at her in disbelief. 'Are you focking kidding me?!' she was tempted to ask, and to slam her mug onto the table with full force to give her words some more spice. Then she noticed the mug was one of her favorites: a pink one, that had two black eyes, a snout and a little pigtail on the other side of it. She quickly let go of it, and yanked her shaking hand into her lap.

"I'm not going anywhere", she announced in a steady voice. "I have places to be tomorrow morning. And I doubt you need me to tend you, Iris. I'm sure your other hand is working just fine, and you can do it yourself." She scooped a couple of spoonfuls of whipped cream into her mouth, before adding: "No smoking allowed indoors, they say. The stench gets absorbed into the structures. And if they'll find something to complain about this apartment when I'm about to move, guess who gets to pay the expenses?" “Fine... No smokin’ indoors...”, Iris stuffed the pack of cigarettes back into her pocket with her free hand.

She glanced towards Eva, seeing woman’s red eyes and smeared eyeliner. Of course Eva had been crying. ‘What else I do these days than make people cry?’ Iris thought to herself.

Her gaze traveled from Eva to Silke, sitting on the other side of the table with her pink piggie-mug. Her dearest friend. The girl she loved... the only girl she had ever truly loved... sat there, so distant. Acting almost like she did not even know Iris anymore. There was no snow castle of mashmallows on her mountain of whipcream... And that’s when the storm that had been raging inside Iris broke the dam. She coiled forward on the bench, as the tears started running down freely on her pale cheeks. Dripping onto the burn, like a salty summer rain. Evangeline had been doing rather impressively at holding herself together, she had thought. As she applied the cream very gently to Iris’ arm, she quietly listened to the other two talk. Iris doing her level best to whisper sweet nothings to Silke with a megaphone, and Silke seeming... cold. She sounded even less inclined to put up with Iris than when they had walked in the door.

Iris put away her cigarettes at Silke’s behest, and, with a quick glance around the room, seemed to finally give way to the tension that had been building in her this whole time. She huddled over and burst into tears. Evangeline looked up, shaken by the sudden change in mood, and turned her eyes to Silke, ‘what do I do?’ written across her face.

Silke’s eyes, at first, were locked on Iris, seeming shocked by the outburst. They glazed over with sadness for just a moment... so quickly that Evangeline would have missed it, had she not been searching desperately for an answer on the viera’s bespectacled face. The sadness faded, though, as quickly as it had come. She retained control of herself, and took another drink of cocoa, faster now than she had before.

“Ahh...I-Iris…”, Evangeline said, unsure of how to handle the situation given her companion’s preferences. Iris had specifically said that she didn’t want to be hugged. She didn’t want that kind of relationship with Eva. Evangeline wanted nothing more than to take the woman in her arms and be there for her. But that wasn’t what she wanted. Iris wanted... Iris wanted companionship without the relationship. Because the relationship she wanted eluded her, somehow.

For some reason, her and Silke didn’t work. Eva didn’t know what it was, but there seemed to be a mountain of hurt between the two. She didn’t know what could be done to fix things for these two... and... she hated to admit it to herself... but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to fix this. It felt horrible, and selfish to think of. She wanted Iris to be happy. But she wanted Iris to be happy with her. Wanted Iris to fall into her arms. Wanted Iris to come home to her. Maybe Iris didn’t love her now... but maybe she would. Someday. Maybe... maybe it was best to go with the safest option here.

“Iris?  C-can... can I touch you?” Eva hoped desperately that she would be able to embrace the woman. That she wouldn’t run. That she wouldn’t disappear. She couldn’t just sit here in silence, though. Silke didn’t seem inclined to do anything about this. Eva looked at Silke again, wondering if her temperament had changed. As she did, Silke finished her cocoa, stood up, and walked out of the room. While Silke marched into the living room, she cursed from the bottom of her heart they were all in her place. Normally she would just leave situations like this, but where could she go now that she was already at home? She couldn't fall apart while there were guests around. She was so tired of crying. She felt she had cried for at least ten or more people lately.

Laurence was still sleeping on the sofa. Silke was tempted to hug him, but she decided to skip that as well. She knew if she hugged something right now, she couldn't probably hold it in anymore.

Silke had been waiting for the damn dinner so much. It was supposed to have been a new beginning for them all. If Asagi and Varg could've just started behaving like normal, functional adults around each other, it would've made everyone else's life easier. Now Silke was no longer certain did she even want to go. If Evangeline lived in the estate nowadays, no doubt she'd attend the dinner, too. And Asagi had announced Ainu, who had just arrived to Ishgard, would join them as well. Silke thought it was a terrible idea. The lalafell was a focking sociopath. And Asagi was delusional if she thought she could cure her with motherly love and care. That case was beyond help.

And if Iris thought she'd make Silke's heart melt by crying, she couldn't have been more wrong. Silke kept repeating 'self care' like a manta in her mind, hugging herself and squeezing her arms with her nails, while looking outside from the window, although there was absolutely nothing interesting there. Iris was just like the rest of them. For a moment Silke had hoped she would've been wrong, but it was all the same shite in the end, just wrapped in a slightly different package. “Don’t touch mi!” Iris screeched through her tears, while cradling herself back and forth on the chair. “Don’t ya fockin’ touch mi! W-We had a d-deal, is it so frickin’ ‘ard to u-understand?!”

Still, somewhere deep in her heart, Iris wanted Evangeline to hold her. She wanted Silke to hold her. The woman she had once been, on the streets of Limsa Lominsa, would have given anything in the world, to have someone to wrap arms around her, telling her everything would be alright. That the morning would come, after the stormy night, and it would be beautiful.

Yet that woman was trapped, deep below the layers of fear, hatred and agony. From the corner of her eyes, Iris had seen Silke emptying her cup of cocoa, and walking out of the room. The sight was the executioner, wearing a dirty, black hood, and pulling the lever, which finally dropped the heavy blade down, splitting Iris’ heart in two.

“I... I just w-wanted to build... a heckin’ castle...”, her voice was barely audible. “Wanted to build a damn castle for... for us to l-live in...” Iris got up, her head feeling dizzy.

It was like time in the room had suddenly stopped onto its tracks. The spring inside the clock had broken, freezing the pointers on the same dead moment for ever and ever. She made her way to the cup of cocoa, still resting on the counter. Her long, pale fingers, reached into the bag, picking up a single marshmallow, and placing it on the huge mountain of whipped cream. After looking at it for a while, she reached for another, and another, carefully piling them on the mountain, with her shaking hand.

“...A-And dis is where dey lived...”, she muttered, while balancing the candy onto drink. “...A h-heckin’ beautiful castle, on a mountains... dat rose above t-tha forest, like clouds... Damn lucky bastards... A poet and ‘er muse. I-I bet ya ‘ave never seen such beautiful woman...” Iris paused for a moment, to wipe away tears that were running free over her cheeks, like small, salty rivulets.

“...Yet da poet had a s-secret... ‘Er words were poison. Drippin’ from ‘er mouth, every time she opened it to weave words. Why? ...Because tha poet was... a frickin’ monster... A creature, which was in love wid tha gal, and ‘ad taken a form o’ a poet to be wid ‘er... Yet tha mask on ‘er face did not keep tha poison from drippin’... And all tha words tha poet weaved for dat gal? Dey just tainted ‘er. Made ‘er sick... And when da gal finally withered awai? Tha castle on clouds came crashin’ down, buryin’ tha monster alive...”

As Iris stopped, the pile of marshmallows on the whipped cream had grown into an unstable little mountain on its own. She picked up a spoon, her hand shaking, and scooped up most of the whipped cream and candies. “...Fockin’ crashin’ down...” She placed the spoonful into her mouth, and the sweet taste mixed with the saltiness of her own tears. Evangeline sat, listening to Iris weave her story.  A fairy tale... Eva wondered if this was some sort of response to trauma. Iris’ other self seemed to be lost in a dreamland, so fully steeped in fantasy that she couldn’t recognize any part of reality. This... this seemed to be Iris teetering on the edge. Wavering between reality and fantasy. Because... because she couldn’t bear... to lose Silke. Damnable, adorable Silke.

After a few minutes, Iris’ story ended, the monster that represented her crushed under a mountain of rubble. Evangeline stood up, hoping that she could figure out how to handle this one. Hoping that she could pull Iris from the edge, and not hurl her off of it unintentionally. She took a step forward... and then another. She felt as if her shoes were lined with lead. She reached up, placing a trembling hand on Iris’ shoulder almost instinctively, her mind ceding to her body once again. Iris winced as Eva touched her shoulder, but didn’t seem to react any other way, still poking at the cocoa with her spoon, eyes fixed on the horizon, where dark clouds were gathering.

“Iris…”, Evangeline said quietly. “I may not be much... but I’m not going anywhere. I know I’m not h-her... but I am yours. I’m right here... by your side. And you’re... you’re right here with me. I couldn’t i-imagine how you’re feeling right now... but I’ll stay with you through it. I’m not running away. I...I don’t want to restrict you... or keep you... I just want to be with you…”, she trailed off, biting her lip.

Gods this was difficult. Finding words... she felt like she was just repeating things she had already said. “I-I like you. A lot.” She blurted out. “You’re att... att…”,  her mouth couldn’t find the word, caught in her throat as it was. “Att… attrraactive to me for a lot of reasons. Y-you’re strong...and p-perseverant... you’re beautiful… but I want you to be free, still.”

The tears were welling up in her eyes now... wouldn’t be long before she couldn’t hold them back any more. She thought briefly of offering to talk to Silke... but she was feeling a little too selfish to do that right now. Maybe if Iris asked her... “I want to touch you... to hold you... b-because I think it might help... but I don’t want you to feel trapped…”, she said, her breath catching in her lungs as she did. “C-can you let me? I’ll let go... I’ll let go the moment you ask me to.” Silke heard the other two talking something in the kitchen, and as time passed, she became more and more convinced she either had to get rid of them, or she had to get out. She glanced once again at Laurence sleeping on the couch.

That's right. She hadn't taken him out yet. A perfect excuse. She hurried to her closet and rummaged through it, trying to find some clothes that hadn't been amongst the laundry. The fancy dress Iris had given her was there, but right now Silke would've rather walked out naked than worn it. There were also both of her party dresses. They were all black, but the other one was long and fancy, and didn't have sleeves. Silke had planned to wear it during the dinner. The other one was festive as well, but compared to the first one, way more casual. Its hem reached her knees, it had tight, long puff sleeves, and it didn't reveal as much. That would do, she thought.

Silke quickly changed into it, hoping the other two wouldn't surprise her meanwhile. They didn't. They seemed to have much to talk about.

Simultaneously Silke took off her tiny panties and revealing nightgown. She had used them only for one night, so they hadn't gotten dirty yet. She'd return them to Iris before they left. Silke didn't have to go out without pants, since she also managed to find some old leggings that had gotten short for her. She didn't mind. Nobody would notice their length while she was wearing her high heeled, leathery thighboots.

Silke combed her hair hastily and tied the long, thick ponytail on her crown. Her bangs were somewhat messy, but she didn't bother to do anything to them. Meanwhile looking at herself from mirror she pondered maybe she could go to store too. That would prolong her trip to the city, and Iris and Evangeline would've hopefully focked off by then. Though, Silke was too tired to see too much effort for her make-up. She took a black eyeliner and drew even darker circles on the ones already existing. She painted her lips dark pink, so that she wouldn't look like a corpse.

"Laurence? Are you awake, boy?" she asked in a tired voice, while crouching next to the sofa, gently petting the sleepy dog. Iris heard Eva’s words, but it was like they were coming from somewhere, really far away, behind a veil of fog, even though she knew the woman was standing right behind her. Y-You are not well... s-something is wrong... Iris shook her head, trying to make the voice go away... It didn’t.

I... I want my knight... my knight in a shining armor, where is he? I have... I have lost my knight!

“Shut up!!”

T-The castle, it’s... its crumbling. What is happening..? Help me... please...

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!”

Iris closed her eyes tightly, fingers on her temples, long, clawlike nails, digging in and drawing blood. She took a step back, walking into Evangeline, and leaning back against the woman’s chest.

Evangeline tensed up for a moment. The other woman was struggling, that much was obvious. Eva hoped that she could calm her down. She was digging her nails into her forehead again. Without even thinking about it, Evangeline gently placed her arms around Iris, not holding her back, or restricting her movement, but cuddling up against Iris' lithe frame.

"Iris... Iris you're here with me, okay? It's just you, Iris. Just you and me. You are Iris, nobody else. It's going to be okay... everything is going to be okay. Listen to the sound of my voice... follow me back..."

“...All I wanted to do, is fockin’ build a castle... L-Look at dat!” Iris waved her hands towards Evangeline’s mug, still resting on the counter, untouched. “Dere is no fockin’ castle... W-Where is my knight? I... I want my... I want mi Silke... Cinnabun? I’m.. I’m so...”

Iris felt the arms that were wrapped around her, like a cradle, everything else was hidden behind the deep fog in her head. What was this place? Who was she? And who’s arms were these? She did not really care anymore.

She felt numb, and when the fog finally parted, she was standing on a shore. A shore of white sand, like ground bones reached as far as the eye can see on her both sides. And in front of her? There was a ocean. A black ocean from where the calms waves rolled in to shore, to caress it like a lover’s fingers for just a moment, before falling back into the embrace of the ocean.

Iris took one step... and another. Her eyes caught the arm, where the burn had been only a moment ago. Yet now? There was nothing. The burn was gone, same with the pain it had brought. Tilting her head, Iris poked the skin couple of times, then pinching it between her fingers, and pullin. No pain. Nothing. She kept walking.

The black waves were calling her with a voice she knew, but could not place to who it belonged to. She stepped into water, walking on, until it reached almost to her knees, when she heard another voice from behind her, and turned around. On the waterline, veiled by the fog, she saw three figures. A Three pairs of long ears.

A tall warrior, a woman with long, ghostly hair, and a sickly, corpse-like woman, standing between them. The panic washed over her... she had to walk back, what was she doing? Yet, when she tried to move her legs, they felt like something was holding them from the bottom of the ocean.

Oh gods... You sound like a vulture... They are my favourite birds...

It’s going to be okay... Everything is going to be okay...

S-Something is not right...

The panic washed over Iris, and she jerked her leg again, but instead of getting it free, she lost her balance, falling back into the embrace of deep black. Iris gasped in Evangeline’s embrace, opening her eyes.

Her burned arm looked horrible. Like someone had been ripping out skin from the burned area. She sighed deeply, moving her fingers on top of the burn, and mumbling words under her breath. A faint light, mix of black and shades of purple started dancing around her fingertips, slowly sewing shut the worst of the damage, even though the arm still looked burned and blistered.

“Seven hells, how did this happen?" Iris’ eyes were closed. She seemed stuck... wrapped in a dreamlike state, twitching involuntarily as if she were sleeping. Evangeline’s heart rate rose, as fear gripped at her, clawing at her arms, her legs... she held Iris, still as gently as if her arms were wrapped around the finest glass vase the world had ever seen.

How was Iris suddenly so precious to her? Why did she feel the need to protect her? Some people had baggage...but Iris had wagonfulls. Cities filled with baggage. The smart move would be to walk away from this mess. To set Iris gently down and leave this place... run far away from Ishgard and never return. Maybe she could win Solenna back.

She barely entertained the thought, though, looking at Iris’ face. Pained and thin, weak and scared. Beautiful, pitiful, and now...alone. Eva could leave her no more than she could leave her own legs behind.  She would just have to figure something out.

As Iris opened her eyes, gasping for breath as if she had been drowning, Evangeline’s heart leapt from her chest, relief pouring through her veins. She was about to say something... to thank the twelve that Iris was back... but she watched as Iris sighed and healed her arm.

”Seven hells, how did this happen?” ...What? That... that wasn’t Iris’ voice. Iris couldn’t heal herself. This was wrong. Something was wrong. This wasn’t the other, either. The one who called herself ‘Lareine’ didn’t speak like that.

Evangeline felt herself tense up again, her relief pulled out of her body like air from a drowned person’s lungs. Still keeping her arms gently around the body of Iris, she whispered quietly to the not-Iris:

“In response to your question... you spilled boiling water on your arm. It was burned, and I was caring for it. I have a question of my own, though, if you don’t mind... what is your name?” ‘Burned my arm..?’ the pale viera thought to herself, as her eyes caught Evangeline’s arms, still wrapped around her. ‘Must have been wild evening’.

She had no idea where she was. Nothing in this place seemed in any way familiar to her. She had no memory of burning her arm with boiling water... and the whole idea sounded so foolish in her head. And on top of everything. Who the hell was this woman, embracing her, and tending to her injury? The burn would leave a scar by now... Why did she not tend it with magic herself it in the first place?

Maybe this was all just a twisted dream, and she would wake up sooner or later. The not-Iris reached out towards the counter, picking up the cup of cocoa, and brought it on her lips, taking a sip.

“Well, considering the fact you are asking for my name, I guess you are not my mate... So my second guess would be... One-night stand? Either way, I would be grateful, if you removed your arms from me. As much as this looks like some ending scene on a romance novel, with whole kitchen and hot cocoa... Having a complete stranger just hanging on your ass is rather... obtrusive.”

Placing down her cup, the viera studied the arms that were holding her. Strong... hardy... the woman was either a soldier, or maybe a smith. A farmhand was unlikely, considering the overall cleanliness or the arms and nails. ‘Must be a soldier of some sort’.

“The name is Irene... Irene d’Espair... and I guess this is a pleasure. For now.” The other two could hear a silent snapping against the floor, before Laurence appeared from the living room, stretching and yawning, and wearing a red leather collar, decorated with silver colored, heart shaped staples. A black leather leash had been tied to the collar, and soon Silke appeared from the living room after the dog, holding the other end of the leash, and her high heeled boots snapping the floor as well, though more loudly.

"Guys?" she said, smiling warmly with her narrow lips that resembled a rosebud. However, her turquoise eyes were faded like a corpse's, and devoid of any emotion. "I just remembered the last time I took Laurence out was yesterday evening. I need to go. And I'm going to fetch some groceries too, so don't bother waiting for me. This is going to take a while." Irene turned her head towards the voice, as much as she could with Evangeline’s arms around her. The woman was so tall, Irene could barely peek over her shoulder, but when she did, she saw another viera woman on the doorway. Now this was... curious? How many people were there, calling this lousy hole ‘a home’?

The newcomer was a complete opposite to the viera holding her. Pale skin... straight hair pulled up on a thick ponytail, and dead eyes behind those round glasses smeared with black. The overall impression of the woman was apathetic, even with the beautiful dress and red-painted lips. A junkie most likely... and by the looks of it... a prostitute.

“Well... good morning to you too...” Irene said. At this point, Silke's expectations of the other two and especially Iris had sunken so deep one would've needed a shovel... or no, a digger, to dig them back up to daylight. However, this was the new low. This was the peak of insolence. First Iris had the nerve to strut here, bragging about her fock partner, and now she was behaving like Silke would've interrupted their affectionate moment in her own kitchen.

Instead of giving the lingerie to Iris, Silke squeezed them into her leash free fist and hurled them onto the floor, next to their feet.

"Oh for fock's sake!" she could no longer remain polite. "You two damsels better drag your asses out of my place before I return if you value those pretty faces of yours!"

With that, she flung the door open, marched out with the excited shiba, and slammed the door shut behind her with such power that it made the windows jingle. Irene stared at the viera’s sudden outburst, wincing, as the door was slammed shut. Her gaze traveled from the door to the rather slutty lingerie on the floor, and up to Evangeline. “Your wife, I presume?” Evangeline removed her arms the moment it was requested. She was almost immediately overwhelmed by just how much everything had come crashing down in just the last few minutes. Crying... heartbreak... she could deal with that, and take it in stride. Maybe. For now.

But she had thought...she had thought there were only two of them. What in Halone’s name was she supposed to do now…? She could only hope that what worked last time would work again. As Silke left in a huff, Eva called out to her, hoping she would stop, but she was already well on her way down the stairs, the sound of the door slamming most likely preventing Silke from hearing her regardless.

“Wait, Silke! She’s not…”, she trailed off, realizing how fruitless it was to say ‘not Iris’ given that Silke was long gone already. She was upset... not just upset, but fuming. Evangeline hoped she could do something... but for fuck’s sake if this wasn’t more important right now, she didn’t know what was.

Evangeline was taken aback at not-Iris’ statement, wondering how those dots in particular had decided to connect in her mind.  She blushed slightly, mumbling: “N-no...she’s...she’s your best friend.  You brought me here to introduce me to her.”  She shook her head slowly.

“More to the point…”  Eva looked into not-Iris’ eyes. Once again... it was so alien. So not Iris. The spark, the flame that sat beneath the lakes of purple was unusual. There wasn’t a hint of Iris left.

“Iris... are you there? Can you hear me? Come back to me...please…”, she pleaded, hoping desperately that it would work. She was afraid of what would happen... Iris had left because of Silke. Evangeline wasn’t enough. Just like she had always been... not enough. Insufficient. Irene kept her purple eyes nailed onto the viera infront of her. This situation was absurd. Quite intriguing, but absurd... ‘This woman is mad as a cuckoo clock’, she thought to herself, while following the other’s pleas, calling for someone named ‘Iris’. Oh, how she wanted to open this lady’s head, just to see what was going on inside it... And if this was Irene’s dream... would the red-head even mind a little poking around her brain? Such an intriguing case...

“Wait, wait, wait...”, Irene said finally, her voice calm, like a surface of a lake after a storm had ended. “...First of all... I dont know who this ‘Iris’ is... I also have no idea who the woman who just walked out was. I have never seen her before. What I think, girl, is that you are going through a mild case of psychosis... most likely triggered by your wife, finding us together. My name is Irene... And I have never been here before. Honestly? I still believe this is some mindless dream, but in case its not... I’m willing to help you out... If I can, that is.”

A weird smile played on Irene’s lips. A smile that did not reach the eyes. The eyes were cold, and lifeless, except the small foxfire looming behind the purple pools. She placed her hand, or Iris’ hand onto Evangeline’s shoulder. “I think we should go, before your loved one returns. Seeing her now, might just mess your little head even more than it already is.” Iris’ eyes didn’t change. She didn’t wake up... or gain control... like she had before. Usually Iris was desperate to fight to the surface. She had such a strong will. Which meant... which meant this time... she didn’t want to come back. Eva wasn’t enough. She was never enough. She was never what anyone wanted.

Her breath came fast and ragged, such that she was almost hyperventilating. Trying desperately to contain herself, she listened to the not-Iris speak. Offer to ‘help’ her. Flash her a lifeless, lightless smile. A not-Iris smile. Evangeline couldn’t help herself anymore, and burst into tears. Sobbing into her hands, she was able to squeak:

“Y-yeess... w-we should g-go…”

Nodding her head slowly, she gasped for breath, trying to see the other woman through the tears. Maybe this was the best way to do things... she couldn’t let the not-Iris get away from her. Maybe she could get her back to house Blacksoul, and seek help from its lord, or at least Arsene.

“I... I have a place... a p-place we can go…,” she whispered between whimpers. “J-just give me a moment t-to... com-compose myself…” Irene reached for her small incredient pouch, but it was not there... Thinking about it further, these were not even her clothes. The style was rather decent, so she could have very well picked them, but... it was not what she would usually wear. Quickly she went through the pockets of a jacket she had over the long black dress, but the only thing she could find was a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. No sign of her pouch.

She had hoped to give the weeping woman something to calm her nerves, but it was no use. ‘What happened to me anyway? Something does not sum up...’ The pale viera ended up to offer the pack of smokes towards Eva.

“These are yours? ...Wait a moment.” Irene lit a cigarette, drawing from it deep, and muttering words, her eyes closed. The words were barely audible, and did not sound like any language Evangeline understood.

Smoke was running over her lips with the words, and soon it gained a very faint glow. Irene leaned towards Eva, blowing the glowing smoke right into her mouth.

Evangeline was struggling to think straight. She didn't have much control over herself... her emotions were too much to contain right now. So intense were her feelings that she barely even noticed Irene take a drag of a cigarette and blow a lungfull of oddly colored smoke into her mouth. Her breath halted, and she immediately felt her lungs constrict, unfamiliar with the new sensation she was experiencing. Instinctively, though, she took a deep breath in, accepting the strange smoke into her body without realizing it.

Immediately, she felt a strange calm wash over her, as if her fears and worries had been constrained to a place just below the surface of her mind.  She could still feel them beating at her, trying to break down the door, but they were restrained for now. She shook her head, and wiped her eyes.

"Whaat... what was that? What did you just do...? And how did you do it? Iris didn't have... she didn't have any magic."

“I still dont know who this ‘Iris’ is, who you keep talking about, but I have few tricks up my sleeve”, Irene reminded. “Just try to stay calm. The effect is rather light, especially as I did not have my own incredients. But at least you are breathing again. Thats good.”

Irene picked up the mug of cocoa, and emptied it, before finishing the smoke. The cold, dead smile was still lingering on her lips, as she threw the pack of cigarettes to Eva, and walked past the woman, and towards the door, Silke had slammed shut only a moment earlier.

“Dont cry for your girl... She will come back to you, if its meant to be. Now shall we?” she nodded towards the door. “You have not told me your name yet.” Evangeline caught the cigarette pack. She felt falsely calm. It was such an alien feeling to her. That she should be so heartbroken and at the same time so controlled in the face of it was highly unusual. Her thoughts moved through her mind, tasting it and testing it as one would test a cut in one’s mouth, touching it with their tongue to see if it hurt. So enthralled was she with her sudden state of being that she almost forgot to answer the not-Iris’ question.

“Hello... my name is Evangeline. Evangeline Cross. Thank you... for whatever that was. As it seems that I have failed, and that we may be together for a time, perhaps I could do my best to furnish you with some information. Let’s... let’s walk and talk, shall we?”

Eva wandered towards the door, already starting to feel the despair creep back into her heart. She needed help... she needed Silke. She needed Silke to help her get Iris back. The viera was certainly gone for now, but perhaps Evangeline could return on another day. She would find a way to bring Iris back to her... she had to. She just hoped that it would be soon.

Eva opened the door, letting in a draft of dry, cold air. She motioned for the not-Iris to exit the building ahead of her, and stepped through the doorway behind her, shutting it behind her with a soft click.

With @lareine-kira​ & @evangeline-cross​ :3c

[thedyingmoon]

💚 See Me Now 💚

A/N: You know the drill, guys and gals,...

LOOK AWAY, LOOK AWAY,...

You've been warned.

***

XX. Mockingbird

***

"Captain Levi, why?"

Levi looked up at her and saw her bleeding nose and mouth. He also caught sight of the bloody bandage on her forehead before his hair was brutally grabbed by the man who was tormenting (F/N).

"Let him go!" screamed (F/N). She was desperately begging her captor to let go of Levi.

Levi, on the other hand, didn't really care anymore, despite his aching body which received a lot of blows the moment he set foot on the building.

"..."

"What did you just say? Stop mumbling and man up!" said the man to the degraded Captain.

"Let go of her." Levi answered in a very anguished tone, unable to suppress the pain he felt at the moment.

"And why should I do that?"

"You,.. have me. Let,... g-go of her,..."

To this, the villainous man just smiled broadly and faced his men.

"You heard that boys? The once high and mighty Levi Ackerman is surrendering himself!" he said, then looked down at Levi once more. He flashed him his filthy yellow teeth and said, "Oh, how the mighty has fallen,..."

The men started laughing boisterously at what their Master just said like some rogues who were laughing at some sick joke in a bar.

(F/N), however, couldn't contain her sorrow and pity. She hated seeing Levi suffer because of his weakness. She never realized, until now, how painful it was to see the one man she loved the most being mocked by ignorant people because of her.

The girl, unable to do anything, bowed her head and cried in silence.

The man noticed this and made her look up by holding her chin forcefully. his long and dirty fingernails digging into her smooth skin.

"Guess what, sweetheart? Ackerman is actually willing to give up his life just to save you! You might have a chance, after all!"

"Keep your fucking, filthy hands off her!" growled Levi, still on the floor clutching at his aching ribs.

The man frowned, removed his hands from (F/N), went to Levi and swiftly gave him a very hard kick on the stomach, which resulted in the poor Captain coughing up blood.

"STOP HURTING HIM!" (F/N) begged, desperately trying to free herself to protect Levi.

"Oh, why should I? This is actually quite fun! You have no idea how joyful it is to kill these monsters."

"He's not a monster, you are!"

"That hurts, sweetheart. You've not complimented me for my glorious endeavors, yet. And now, you're being such a fucking nincompoop for begging me to let this asshole go! After all the sadness he inflicted upon you,... how fucking stupid can you actually get?!"

Levi struggled to look up at the man as he was about to go near (F/N) again.

If only I have the strength, then I could've -

The obnoxious man grabbed (F/N)'s shoulders and brought his awfully wrinkled face closer to hers.

"Get away from her!" Levi begged and received another kick to the stomach by one of the goons.

(F/N) looked away, unable to stomach the grotesque sight of the man.

"Let's have a deal, then. Shall we, sweetheart?" the man sweet - talked to her.

"Don't listen to him! He'll - AHH!" Levi said as another kick landed on his battered body, this time, on his back.

"You'll let me touch you, and I'll let him go."

"Touch me?" (F/N) was very revolted at the man's words.

"You know that. I haven't had a woman these past few days. My big boy is getting dried from disuse."

"Don't do it! FUCK!" Levi begged as another painful kick landed on his stomach.

"Come on, you'll let me fuck you, then I'll let him go. It's as simple as that. I'll even throw in the antidote as a plus. I know how much you wanted to cure him, for humanity's sake, or whatever. But, that's a great bargain! What do you say, sweetheart?"

Levi writhed in pain, unable to say another word to (F/N). And to even make it worse, (F/N) was actually taking too long to answer, like she was thinking really hard about it!

Was her resolve to cure him really that strong?

(F/N), on the other hand, was silently staring at the villain with an unreadable expression. She opened her mouth to speak, but what came out of it was nothing like anyone suspected.

Always remember, my dear girl, that a woman's purity is to be cherished, and not to be given away to anyone except for the man you truly loved.

How can I know who that man is?

It's very simple, my child,...

"Go fuck yourself!" (F/N) hissed angrily and spat at the man's face.

The men went silent, unable to believe that a woman just rejected their great Master. How could she?

Levi, on the other hand, could not help but feel admiration for the girl's decision to keep herself intact. It's fine. Perfectly fine.

I don't deserve her help, for I have greatly sinned against her.

The man let go of (F/N)'s shoulders, pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket, and wiped his face with it.

"Okay, so that's how you want to play it." the man simply said. He hid his wet handkerchief and looked at his men like nothing happened. "You know what this means, boys." he said to them greedily, making them grin with devilish looks on their faces. Some of them even started flexing their muscles.

The man glanced at (F/N) once more, but this time, with a look of complete malice in his ugly face.

"There is,... actually something I'd like to do once I get the throne from the King. And that is to rebuild this theatre and have many great shows for the people to see. My theatre would become so famous, it would even rival the most prestigious ones inside Wall Sina."

The villain gestured for a man to fetch him something from across the room. A few seconds later, that underling handed him what looked like a long, metal bar.

"There was a show I particularly liked when I was a child. I remember it was about two cute lovers who couldn't be together."

The villain stalked Levi like a predator, making (F/N) even more nervous than ever before. He was twirling the metal bar playfully with both hands.

"There was this one scene I really loved. It was when the evil man was torturing the man because the woman wouldn't abide by the villain's wishes to be married to him."

(F/N)'s eyes widened when she finally realized what the villain was planning to do to Levi.

"Stop it! Leave him alone, please!"

The man swiftly returned to (F/N)'s side, covering her mouth to stop her from saying another word.

"Ssh, ssh, ssh. I'm not done with the monologue, yet. You know that this part is very essential to all the villains in all kinds of stories!" he cooed. He removed his hand from (F/N)'s mouth and went on with his so - called monologue. "I also remember that, as the villain tortures the man, he sings a foolish, little children's song." He turned once more to his men and waved the metal bar in midair like some proud Conductor of an Orchestra. "What was that song again? The one with the blue jay? Wait, was it the robin? No. But, it couldn't be the sparrow, either,..."

"STOP, PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU!"

"Master, I think it's the mockingbird,..." a tall hoodlum, standing not far from where Levi was lying, said.

The villain's eyes lit up as fond memories of that particularly sick scene invaded his mind. "Ah, yes! It's the mockingbird! Now, how did that song go?"

(F/N) was now hysterically crying in her chair. "No, please! Stop this. I'm begging you, please!"

The villain put his right foot on top of Levi's stomach, raised the bar high, and started singing. "One little, two little, three little..."

"NO!"

The villain was about to hit Levi's face with the bar when he suddenly stopped, the cold, metal tool just inches away from his sweaty face.

"Wait, that's not how the song goes,..." he said to himself. He abruptly removed his foot from Levi's stomach and pondered for a while, idly bumping the bar against his hip. "I would never get this scene right if I can't remember the song. How did Alejandro Montoya sing it? Fuck, I remember the actor but, I can't remember the song,..."

(F/N) was shaking a lot. The man was just too unpredictable. He was nice the first few minutes, then violent the next. Just how long would this torture last?

Levi knew deep within his aching heart what would happen to him. He only wished for (F/N) to be safe, or the Scouting Legion to make it in time before the villain started torturing him.

But, it seems that luck was not on his side.

"Mocking,... bird. Hush, hush,... hush! I remember!" the man gleefully announced.

"Please, I'm begging you, let him go! I'll - " (F/N) pleaded. It was no use.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word,..." the man sang in his surprisingly good voice. "...mama's gonna buy you a mocking,... bird!"

Without so much as putting his foot on top of the Captain's stomach, the villain hit Levi's leg as he sang the word bird.

Levi howled in pain, convincing himself mentally that he deserved that and everything that will occur to him in a few moments.

For hurting an innocent girl as (F/N) so much,...

(F/N) looked away, unable to see Levi in his suffering. But, the sound of his anguished voice made the tears fall non - stop from her eyes.

The sick man went on with his torture as he sang.

"And if that mockingbird won't,... sing, mama's gonna buy you a diamond,... ring!"

Levi received two more blows to his already beaten body, his mouth issuing noises he never dreamed he'd make. The men started joining in the fun.

"That's it. Sing with me, boys!"

And if that diamond ring turns brass,

Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass.

A burly man, the one who forcefully kicked Levi to make him enter the room a while ago, turned the Captain's body over, grabbed his foot, and threw him away like some child disposing of a broken toy.

(F/N) tried desperately to set herself free.

And if that looking glass gets broke,

Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat.

Another man ripped Levi's shirt, threw the tattered garment away, and began marking his chest with his knife while laughing like a psychopath.

"Hey, my turn!" the smallest one of the group uttered, snatching the knife away from his comrade.

And if that billy goat won't pull,

Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull.

(F/N) finally managed to tear herself away from her restraints and blindly raged forward after seeing the men beat Levi's bloody body using all sorts of things they found inside the room. Two men saw her and hastily grabbed her shoulders. They pushed her back on the chair, preventing her to make any more movements and forced her to watch the torture.

"Look at them go, bitch!" said one of the men. "Ackerman's being beaten to a bloody pulp! Ha! Serves him right,..."

And if that cart and bull turn over,

Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover.

Levi could no longer think properly. His poor body was taking so much hits that he started hallucinating about lots of things.

One of them strangely brought back a certain memory from an unknown time.

He instantly remembered that he was running as fast as he could to reach the Headquarters. It was raining so hard. Thunder and lightning endlessly paraded the dark, menacing sky.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark,

Mama's gonna buy you a horse and cart.

He remembered seeing three drunk men in an alley, singing this very same song while beating someone and tearing the clothes off of that person. He shouted at them, already running towards them to beat them up. But, at the mere sight of him, they immediately stopped what they were doing and scrambled away from him like some chickens. He ran towards the person and saw,...

And if that horse and cart fall down,

You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town.

Levi looked up, despite the awful pain he felt, and looked at (F/N), who was being held down by the two men.

What (F/N) saw in Levi's eyes made hers widen with shock.

"It's,... you,..." Levi whispered, his unstable smile never leaving his face. "(F/N), it is you,..."

"Oh, the song is finished,..." whined one of the tormentors.

The leader wiped off Levi's blood from his face with his dark sleeves and raised his metal bar once more. "Then, we'll just have to start all over again until he dies,..."

He swiftly brought down the metal bar, but before it could land on Levi's head, all of them heard a very loud scream coming from the girl.

"STOP!" she screamed.

All of the men, aside from Levi, who was beginning to loose consciousness, looked at her.

(F/N) looked at the leader, determined about what she was about to say.

"I'll do it." she uttered, a strange glow emitting from her eyes. "Go on, fuck me,..."

***

A/N: *gasp* You're still reading?! Well, it's your fault. Don't blame me,... ( lol, joke. 😁 )

~ @levi4mikasa , @yepps , @clovemcpandas , @unhappysap , @shewolfofficial , @fangurl-ontgeside , @super-peace-fangirl , @shortbty14 , and @emilyackerman78 . 💚

***

💚💚💚

***