#SILVER HAS SEEN SUCH HORRIBLE THINGS! HES SEEN PEOPLE HE LOVES DIE!!! ITS HAPPENED SO OFTEN THAT HES USED TO IT! HE EVEN EXPECTS IT!!!

[rabbithaver]

"Whereas Silver, I would think, for all of his openness and naivety... is hesitant to make new friends, because he's used to seeing them die. You don't want to make connections after a point, but he is also, y'know, clearly desperate to make connections, because he's a people person. He likes other people, he wants to be around other people, he wants to protect people." -- Ian Flynn, on Silver the hedgehog

(NOTE: this quote is from an upcoming Espilver BumbleKast Mini sponsored by @transmanshadow!)

[thusspoketrish]

Play Pretend (Part 1/5)

TRIGGER WARNING (PLEASE READ THE TAGS. PLEASE READ THE TAGS. PLEASE READ THE TAGS): Depression. Suicide Attempt. Suicidal Ideation. PTSD. Poor Coping Mechanism.

Harry Potter & Astoria Greengrass; Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter; Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy; Astoria Greengrass/Others; Draco Malfoy/Others; Harry Potter/Others

Content: Friendship. Forced Marriage Arrangement. Unrequited Love. Falling Out of Love. Falling in Love. Betrayal. Friendships. Breakups. Mental Health Issues. Apathy. Flatmates. Acceptance. Positive Thinking. Therapy.

SUMMARY: Fate boasts a strange sense of humour when a severely depressed Harry finds himself convincing a drunk Astoria Greengrass off the ledge of Waterloo Bridge at three in the morning. The events that follow after are an exercise in strength as Harry finds himself relearning how to cope, forgive, and love alongside the blossoming of new friendships.

Thank you to @starlitsilvereyes for the beta!

====================

At approximately 2:07 AM, Harry Potter shoves his arms through his black wool coat before wrapping his Gryffindor scarf tightly around his neck. He shoves on the misshapen scarlet mittens Hermione knitted for him several years ago, realising he could summon a better pair as she’s improved greatly since Hogwarts, but finding that these reminded him of a better time.

Finally, he shoves his wand up his sleeve before wrenching the door open and taking the steps down from Grimmauld two at a time, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality. As he breathes in and out sharply, white puffs curling outward from his chapped lips, Harry looks skyward. The moon is heavy and hangs low tonight, full and beautiful as swirls of snow begin to gently fall. It’s dark, and beautiful, and it hurts to look at.

Harry had spent the entire day cleaning Grimmauld from top to bottom. Not that this mattered as Harry has found that no matter how much he cleaned or remodelled the house, he was incapable of penetrating its doom-and-gloom atmosphere. But he had cleaned to the best of his ability, and had arranged all his necessary documents across his office table several hours ago. He carefully placed each note facing upward, the individual names of all his friends in his spidery scrawl. He had even left notes behind for the Dursley’s, though, not imparting a single kind word, as seen in his other letters. He had left the Gringotts keys of the Potter Vault behind in Ron and Hermione’s name and endowed a small trust to any future children they may have. He had left the deed and keys to Grimmauld and the Black vault to Teddy and Andromeda.

Harry doesn’t think he left any stone unturned.

He had been planning this for months. Had made the nearly 40-minute walk from Clerkenwell to Waterloo Bridge nearly every night for the last three weeks, simply staring out at the water, yearning. It would take nothing, he thought, to sit on the ledge, cast a simple spell to increase his weight, and fling himself over the edge. And at three in the morning, it wouldn’t be hard to do this uninterrupted.

A numb sort of blankness overcomes him as he rolls his shoulders and makes his way through the quiet roads, onto the high street where the slow crawl of busses and cars creep past. Harry’s vision is a tunnel of black and white images flickering in and out of focus as he sets himself on autopilot. He could do this route with his eyes closed.

It’s not that Harry thinks he deserves to die. He’s simply come to the conclusion that he wants to.

He’s tired, much too tired from the debilitating numbness that’s crippled his entire existence. He’s remained frozen in time since dying and coming back to life in the Forbidden Forest. The experience has left him immobile, like a statue, weathered by the storm called time but never feeling the effects of it no matter how long he holds his breath, patiently waiting for something to come along and happen. He was waiting for the spark of life to feed his blood as it had during the war, and nothing, no reason or rhyme, has been able to replace it. He had quit the Aurors, had isolated himself from the pitying expressions of friends and family, and had shrunken himself on the outside to reflect what he felt on the inside—absolutely nothing. He was nothing, a lingering afterthought in his own mind, something ugly and broken with a piece of its soul missing. He couldn’t stand to live with that knowledge any longer.

It was no one’s fault, not directly. Harry’s never been whole, not as a child curled up and forgotten in the cupboard under the stairs; not as a child, shaped into a sacrificial soldier, not as a twenty-three year old man, alone, shrouded in the dark cloak of night, ready to end his life.

The black and purple swirls of fog and clouds paint a pretty backdrop for the breathtaking view of the Thames, the London Eye, and Parliament from Harry’s position on the bridge. It’s the only time his vision shifts to full-colour, when he’s standing on the bridge, hands gripping the cold railing as he peers over, his glasses sliding slowly down his nose. He uses a mittened finger to push them back up, a hollow laugh escaping him as he reaches deep down inside of himself to search for a feeling, anything. He wishes for even a fissure of panic as he places both hands on the railing again, wondering if 100kg added to his feet would successfully prevent his ability to kick back up to the surface.

A harsh wind whips by, and with it carrying a whimper. Harry turns, his gaze sharpening, harping on an elongated figure further down the bridge perched on the railing.

He turns back to the water, staring out at the inky black waves. He shouldn’t care.

The whimper turns into full on sobbing.

He shouldn’t care. He doesn’t.

Then, there’s a horrible scream of anguish that pierces the quiet, the sound full of devastation. He blinks several times, pushing his glasses up again. He may not have the ability to care for his own well-being anymore but he still...he still seems to care about others.

With a sigh, Harry walks to the centre of the bridge, noticing a lone figure down the road walking towards them before abruptly stopping and turning away from them.

Harry ignores them, and instead approaches the person perched on the railing. He can see that the person is wearing a black, long-sleeved ballgown, tiny sparkling beads of emerald green, gold, red, and silver shimmering in the moonlight, taking the shape of exploding fireworks across her bodice along the back of the dress. It’s beautiful, and Harry gasps when the woman turns to face him.

He’s seen this woman before, has seen her pretty pale face at the Slytherin table at Hogwarts. Her long black hair whips across her flushed face, mascara-tinged tears sliding down her cheeks. Her red lipstick is smeared across her lips and down her chin, piercing blue eyes unfocussed as she sways side-to-side.

“What do you want?” the woman asks miserably, her voice slurring, intoxicated. Harry steps closer to her, as if she’s a wild animal ready to leap away from him. The woman’s lips turn down into a terrible wound of a frown, misshapen by the smeared lipstick. “Did he send you?” she cries.

“No,” Harry says, not knowing who she’s talking about as he slowly approaches her. “Why don’t you come down?” he asks, extending an opened hand.

The woman’s gaze twists from Harry back out to the dark depths of the Thames. Harry inches closer.

Another whimper escapes her. “He doesn’t love me,” she cries, her body shaking as she weeps.

“There are people out here who love you,” Harry says, wincing. How many times has Ron and Hermione said this very thing to him over the last year?

“But not him!” she shouts, her shoulders trembling, the harsh winds whip her hair. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve even given him all of me, all my love, all my hopes and my bloody dreams, and nothing. Nothing I do makes him look at me…at me...as if,” the woman breaks off, a trembling cry escaping her before she shouts, “Why...why not me?”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Harry says, his voice carrying on the winds, tone firm. A small spark of indignation is felt in his chest. This woman, this woman is suffering, and it’s fuelling a knife-sharp sensation alongside his slow-beating heart. He wants to touch her, see if he can pull her grief into him, see if it’ll help him feel his own, for once.

The woman tilts her head back, a wail escaping her. “I don’t deserve him! I can’t help him, I can’t even bloody keep him. I’m useless.”

“Stop it, don’t put yourself down like this. He doesn’t deserve you...you’re stronger than this pain, this numbness you’re experiencing, and you know it. You know you can do so much better than him, that your life and your hopes and dreams outweighs whatever the fuck you think he sees when he looks at you. You don’t need anything from him, not when you’re this strong,” Harry says, shaking his head. He doesn’t know where these words are coming from, they feel foreign to his own ears. A part of him wonders if he wished someone would say this to him. “What’s your name?”

The woman draws in a shaky breath before she answers in a tiny, strained voice, “Astoria. Astoria Greengrass.”

Harry nods, now remembering her, remembering where he’s seen her name lately. “Come, Astoria. You have so much to offer the world. You’re strong, but sometimes even the strongest among us have bad days, but that doesn’t make us worthless,” Harry says, the feeling in his chest swelling, lighting him on fire from the inside. Harry gasps. “You’re worth fighting for, you’re...let me...let me fight for you, Astoria, until you can fight for yourself. Please...please, take my hand. You don’t have to do this...you don’t have to do this alone.” He’s now beside her.

A wicked wind whips past them again, the snow falling now coming down in thick, fluffy sheets. Astoria huffs out another sob before she turns around, her hand stretching out.

Harry clasps it, pulling her forward. She wraps her arms around his neck, digging her face into this layered scarf, clinging to him like a lifeline. They both sink to the ground as she weeps. The cold stings the trail of tears on Harry’s own cheeks.

She smells like the cold, along with lingering scent of bergamot orange and rosewood. He knows it's a combination of scents he'll never forget as he cradles her against his chest before quickly opening his coat to wrap around her shivering form.

All the while, feeling more alive than he has since the day he died.

[free-pool-trash]

dangerous game - peter maximoff

okay! this is just pure angst. peter has big dumbass energy in this one and i wanted it to hurt so here we are, i haven’t read over it so it could be awful.

requested by anon:  So, I was thinking about this. Peter and the reader are best friends. both have a crush for each other but they are too awkward to do something(and the classical "I don't want to ruin our friendship").Peter in a weird attempt of trying to get over this way too big almost painful love(that he thinks is not mutual)decides to date someone else! Make sense? Would it work for a fic? I don't know, you are the master mind here love. Anyways, the end is up to you? If he ends up with the reader or not

word count: 3.8k

warning(s): lots of swearing, fighting, peter being a dick, platonic warren

masterlist

PART II & III ARE UP ON THE MASTERLIST

When you were younger you thought that having a ride or die best friend would be the greatest thing in the world. What you didn't know however was how agonizingly painful it would be when you developed feelings, and eventually, fell in love with that ride or die best friend.

Peter was, as you always described him to people, your ride or die. He was your favorite person on the face of the planet and your most trusted confidante. You say 'was' because lately you didn't know what he was to you.  

Things had changed so horribly fast, faster than he could even run, you thought. It changed so fast despite the fact that you felt it happen, watched it happen, over the most gut wrenching few weeks.

Everything had been perfectly normal between the pair of you, the day before it all started going so terribly wrong, you'd been laughing and cracking jokes together, you did what you always did and stole his silver jacket and he'd said what he always said, "looks better on you anyway." Common practice in your friendship. At least... it had been.

In all honesty, you felt so unbelievably fucking stupid, because for a fleeting moment you had yourself convinced that your best friend of almost three whole years actually had romantic feelings for you, idiotic thought apparently.

Because the very next day Peter began to withdraw himself from you, slowly but not at all subtly. It started with the distance he started putting between you physically, and then the emotional distancing kicked in a few days later and then before you could even comprehend why he was acting the way he was, he was pretending as if he'd never even met you and it hurt like all hell.

Not only did he pretend like he didn't know you, but he also acted like nothing was out of the ordinary when you confronted him about the whole situation.

"Peter! Hey wait up!" You'd called out to him, having to break into a jog to catch up to the mop of silver hair that seemed to quicken it's pace upon hearing your voice.

Once you caught up to him, you had to take a second to catch your breath before you spoke.

"You running away from me or something, Maximoff?" You asked, a joking tone in your voice that did very little to mask your confusion.

Peter laughed awkwardly and glanced around nervously, and if you didn't know any better you would have said that it was like he didn't want to be seen with you at all.

"Uh no, what makes you think that?" He questioned, clearing his throat and continuing to look around, seemingly on edge. About what you hadn't known.

"Well, the fact that you have barely spoken a word to me in last two we-" Before you could even finish your sentence, Peter's eyes moved to focus on something behind your head and he cut you off.

"I actually can't talk right now, but um we can definitely catch up later!" With that he pushed past you and walked toward what, or more accurately, who he'd been staring at.

You watched helplessly as he rushed happily towards Heather, one of the newer students at the academy. Your face dropped as you watched him throw an arm casually around her shoulder and you didn't even try to mask the hurt on your face while you watched them walk off together.

Oh. So he'd replaced you. Oh okay.

From there it went from having little to no contact to absolutely no contact whatsoever, despite your constant attempts to get his attention.

A few months passed you by while you tried to figure out what exactly you were feeling. You felt betrayed mainly, the sense of abandonment was strong too and of course the confusion you felt about the whole situation hung over you like a dark cloud.

What had you done to deserve that? You couldn't for the life of you figure it out and that's what hurt the most, he never even stopped to give you a reason.

Another emotion you'd settled on was anger. The color sliver now triggered your fight or flight response and oh how you were itching for a good fight.

Night after night the exact same questions bounced around your mind, never allowing you to sleep peacefully, not until you hushed them with a half assed conclusion you'd created yourself.

"How could he just leave me like that? After everything we've been through? Was I not a good enough friend? Did I do something to push him away?" You'd promised yourself that you'd never allow yourself to lose sleep over a boy, you couldn't stand that this is what you'd come to. 

You hated Peter for making you feel this way, you hated him for it, he was the one person that knew every single thing about you, he knew all of your biggest weaknesses and yet he didn't even think twice before exploiting them- like it meant nothing, like you meant nothing.

News of Peter and Heather becoming an official "couple" had spread throughout the Academy rather quickly. You pretended that you didn't care but fuck if you weren't crying on the inside.

You were fucking miserable and the people around you, the people who loved you and were concerned about you would've had to be blind not to notice.

Jean and Jubilee were constantly checking up with you, making sure you ate at least one meal a day since they noticed that you usually skipped out on meals and looked like you were always about to pass out after training. They didn't push you too hard however, they'd been in your shoes you all knew what heartbreak looked like, you all knew what it felt like and you all knew that it would pass in time, but it needed to run its course first.

The boys on the other hand were assigned to deal with the Peter side of things, they were not as gentle in dealing with the speedster as they were with dealing with you.

Warren had been straight up pissed off, Kurt's heart ached for you and Scott seemed to hold the same confusion as you did. They'd try their best to get answers out of Peter without stirring the pot between him and his new girl, but the two seemed to be attached at the hip and it was getting harder to catch the boy alone.

Eventually the three boys had enough of tiptoeing around the topic with Peter, he seemed to be thriving and you seemed to only be getting worse despite your efforts to hide it from the group. You were one of the best people each of them knew, they knew you and they knew all you'd need to be back to yourself was some closure, it didn't seem like so much to ask yet somehow it felt like obtaining it was an impossible task. 

So instead of their usual divide and conquer tactic the boys decided to simply corner the speedster and make him talk. It was pretty much a surprise intervention.

"What the hell?" Peter asked looking between the three boys who'd backed him into a literal corner.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Scott was the first to speak up, shaking his head at Peter disapprovingly.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you guys, why are you ambushing me?" Peter asked becoming nervous as Warren scoffed.

"Cut the shit, Maximoff. Why'd you screw (Y/n) like that?" Warren asked, no longer willing to beat around the bush.

The boys noticed how Peter tensed at the mention of your name, the boy under scrutiny cleared his throat and attempted to move past the boys, who successfully stopped him.

"Look I've got a date-" He started before Warren pushed him back.

"I couldn't care less, Maximoff. Answer the question." Warren demanded as Scott and Kurt became aware of the fact that Warren wasn't fucking around.

"Why do you even care what happens between (Y/n) and I?" Peter asked defensively, deflecting the question and regretting it as Warren stalked towards him.

"I care because she's one of my closest friends and you abandoned her without a second thought and started trapesing around with the new girl as if (Y/n) had meant nothing to you in the first place and now she's fucking miserable, so answer the fucking question." Warren growled out through gritted teeth, and the other boys nodded in agreement behind Warren.

"She's heartbroken, Peter." Scott added, as Kurt nodded in agreement before asking, "Haven't you noticed?"

Peter's brows furrowed as he looked at each of the boys before looking back at Warren, squaring up to him. He left you to protect the integrity of your friendship, to protect your feelings. But it wasn't your feelings he was protecting, no it was his own, he was selfish and stupid but he was too far gone to turn back now.

He missed you more than anything, he loved you for fuck sake but if hating him was what you needed to do to move on then he'd make you hate him, although he assumed he was doing a good job of that already.

Swallowing hard he looked Warren dead in the eyes and mentally prepared himself to get the everliving shit kicked out of him by the winged boy, with what he planned to say he definitely deserved it.

"She's not my problem. She got too attached, that's on her." Peter spat out in the most malicious voice he could manage, fuck he hated himself.

Warren’s fist moved to connect with Peter's jaw before Scott and Kurt held him back, the two boys were seething from what Peter said, and Scott knew him well enough to know that what he was saying was utter bullshit, but they knew if Warren got his hands on Peter the speedster would probably end up with a broken spine.

"I don't know who you're trying to fool Peter but get your shit together." Scott told him angrily before Kurt teleported the three of them away.

The boys ended up in your room where you were chatting with Jean and Jubilee who were already there. You all knew about the boys and their plan to confront Peter and judging by how angry they all looked, you guessed it didn't go as planned.

"No joy?" Jubilee asked sympathetically and Kurt shook his head sadly in response, to him Peter's words had been cruel and he couldn't wrap his head around how he could say that about someone that he cared for.

Scott flopped down on the edge of your bed, bedside Jean and groaned. "He was being an ass." He spoke, head in hands out of frustration.

Warren still looked like he was out for blood and you wondered what he could've done to get under his skin so much.

"What's up, birdy?" You asked, patting the free space beside you on the bed. The blond stomped over to you and sat down beside you grumpily.

Looking at you in contemplation and then shaking his head, he huffed before speaking out angrily, "I just don't understand how one guy could be such a fucking dumbass." He turned to look at Scott and Kurt, "You guys should've let me beat him up." He stated matter of factly causing your eyes to widened and the other girls shared your shocked expression.

"What did he say that was so bad you wanted to punch him?" You asked, voice filled with worry.

Scott sighed and looked at you sympathetically, "We asked him why he screwed you over and he basically told us that you weren't his problem."

You didn't get a chance to react before Jubilee jumped to her feet, pure rage radiating from her small body.

"You absolutely should've let Warren punch him! Fuck it, I'll electrocute him myself!" She exclaimed, not really serious about taking matters into her own hands but seriously angry with the way the usually dorky boy had been behaving recently. 

"Calm down, Jubes." Jean told her calmly as they watched your eyes narrow before you looked around at all of them, a spiteful smile on your face.

"You know what? Fuck him. I'm done crying about him. I'm over it." You stated, as you watched them glance at you skeptically, all except Warren who was glad of your change in attitude.

"I say we go out, have a good time and make him wish I was his fucking problem." You laughed out, clearly not even bothering to digest the new information you'd been given.

"I say we show him exactly what he's missing." Warren chimed in nonchalantly, to which you nodded enthusiastically and the others couldn't lie and say they weren't happy you were finally deciding to let it go.

"That settles it. We're going to the mall." Jean declared, happiness lacing her voice.

You'd finally smiled for the first time in an age and it was because you finally realized you had more than just Peter. You had five of the most incredible friends who looked out for you and didn't just up and leave as soon as things got tough.

You figured it couldn't hurt to follow Warren's advice, if Peter wanted to leave you with absolutely no explanation then you'd highlight everything that would make him wish he'd stayed.

You loved him and he'd left you and replaced you and refused to give you any fathomable reason as to why. You weren't an idiot, you knew the whole "not his problem" thing was bullshit. 

He was winning at a game that you didn't want to play, but you supposed if you had to you'd play to win.

You'd tried to be mature, but he wouldn't budge, he'd pretend he couldn't hear you or pretend he didn't know what you were talking about. If he wasn't willing to work things out like a big boy then you'd match his immaturity.

As the weeks went on Peter began to see you more and more, only now you pretended he was a stranger to you and he knew he was being a hypocrite but he hated how it felt to be ignored by you.

What really got under his skin though was how cozy Warren was getting with you. Despite the fact Peter had been dating Heather for nearly two months now he was still hopelessly in love with you and watching you prance around with Warren Worthington III, the guy that almost re-positioned Peter's face, made him realize how much he'd seriously fucked up.

Heather was great, she was pretty and sweet but she wasn't you, and Peter was pretty sure she wouldn't stay with him for much longer. They'd both grown bored of each other.

As if he'd manifested it into existence, a few days later Heather ended things with Peter. Now that she was gone the boy had nobody else left as the majority of his friends were also your friends and there was always an awkward tension whenever he tried to talk to them.

He knew he only had one option. He had to go and talk to you. He had to fix things.

After Heather broke things off Peter went to find you, he didn't know what he was going to do or say but he knew the results probably wouldn't be favorable.

Peter found you in your room, he sped in and hadn't bothered knocking, he never did.

You were shocked at his sudden appearance, to say the least, he stood nervously in your doorway and you didn't bother moving from where you sat in the middle of your bed, pursing your lips and crossing your arms.

"What do you want?" You spit out, hostility lacing the question.

"Me and Heather broke up." Peter found himself saying, not really having anything else to offer you in the moment.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "What's that got to do with me?"

"I-" He started but paused. 

You looked at him expectantly and waited, eyebrow still cocked.

"I'm sorry." He finally sighed out and you laughed at how weightless the words felt.

"And what is it exactly that you’re sorry for? Abandoning our entire friendship or pretending that I didn't exist?" You inquired as you watched him swallow the lump in his throat.

"All of that." He replied meekly.

"Why'd you do it?" Peter swallowed yet again before clearing his throat awkwardly, he had to tell you the truth and he could see your composure cracking.

"I didn't want to lose you." Scrunching your face up at his answer, you got off your bed to stand in front of him.

"That doesn't make any sense. If you didn't want to lose me then why did you just leave me?" You told him, anger rising in your voice.

Peter let out a heavy sigh, moving to place a hand on your arm but freezing when you took a step back.

"I didn't want to risk ruining our friendship." He told you vaguely, looking at you pleadingly.

"Oh so what? You thought you'd do a pre-emptive strike and just ruin it on the spot?" You scoffed out, if his reason for ruining the friendship was not wanting to ruin the friendship you'd have serious questions. 

"That's not what I meant to do!" He defended helplessly.

"Then what the fuck did you mean to do, Peter?" You shouted, voice cracking as you felt your uncaring facade slipping away.

Peter closed the distance between you both and placed his hands on your arms, you didn't step away that time but you did stare at his hands in bewilderment.

"I love you." He told you, brown eyes staring into yours that had began tearing up.

Angrily, you shoved him away.

"Seriously? You fucking threw me away and replaced me because you love me?" Peter's eyes widened at your tone, you were livid and he hadn't realized how badly he'd affected you. 

"(Y/n) please! Just let me explain." He begged.

Taking a deep breath you shook his hands off of you and took another step back.

"Then explain." 

"We're best friends-" He began but you cut him off without mercy, "We were best friends."

Peter looked at you like a kicked puppy and it hurt but you couldn't let him see you crack, he fucked you up and now he has to deal with it.

"I love you, I didn't want to tell you because if you didn't feel the same it would have ruined everything! And I just thought that if I started dating someone else that those feelings would go away." He explained, talking fast and nerves running through his entire body as he watched you chuckle lowly to yourself.

"You didn't just start dating someone though, Peter. You completely disregarded me for three fucking months without any explanation." You told him, breaking into a fit of laughter as he struggled to find a defense for his actions.

He realized he was fucked when he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks despite your laughter.

"Do you know what's really funny?" You asked, stepping closer to him as he shook his head.

Poking your finger at his chest you emphasized every word you said with a jab, "I loved you too."

You watched as his face fell and you no longer tried to save face, you allowed your bottom lip to quiver and your voice to crack as you regained the distance between you.

"I was hurting and scared too. But I would have never done to you what you did to me. That's not love, Pete." You told him weakly, voice breaking down.

Peter's brows furrowed and his mouth fell open, "Why didn't you say anything?" He regretted asking as he caught the glare you sent in his direction.

"Because as soon as I thought that maybe you could like me too you fucked off to be with Heather and started pretending I didn't exist!" Your voice was loud and aggressive.

How could he even ask that question?

Peter scoffed at you, "Seems like you were pretty happy with Worthington keeping you company."

Your eyes widened, "You're fucking kidding, right?" Peter only shrugged, an angry look on his face.

"That's why you came back isn't it? Because you're jealous of Warren?" Peter said nothing, only looked to the floor nervously.

Laughing again, you wiped the tears off your face aggressively, "God, here I was thinking that maybe you were actually sorry."

"I am sorry!" Peter exclaimed.

"Are you though? Because it seems like your girlfriend broke up with you and now you have no other options." You stated matter of factly.

Anger erupted in Peter, he didn't come here to fight with you but if you didn't want to have a level headed conversation then neither did he.

"I'm trying to make it right! I fucked up okay I get it but the way you're acting is immature." He shouted, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Immature?" You challenged, raising your eyebrows at him, stepping closer.

"Yeah, immature." He confirmed, standing his ground.

Again you let out a laugh, crossing your arms tightly across your chest, "No Peter, what's immature is leaving your best friend of three years and then pretending she doesn't exist like a fucking child all because you're scared." 

"Pft right. You moved on pretty quick anyways." He muttered causing your jaw to fall slack.

"Peter you literally stopped talking to me then started dating someone the next day!" You yelled out, your voice raising in pitch with the more worked up you became.

"That's different!" He shouted through gritted teeth.

"How?!" You demanded, your own teeth clenching at the conversation that was beginning to stress you out.

"Because I didn't replace you as a friend!" He reasoned, weakly.

"And what? I did?" You inquired, genuinely confused with what the fuck he was insinuating.

"Like I said. You seem pretty happy with Worthington." He spat out and you let out a humourless laugh.

"You know what, Peter? When you decided to start treating me like a ghost and making me feel like shit, Warren was there for me. Just like Jean, Jubilee, Scott and Kurt were there for me." You told him, tiring of the argument.

He'd fucked you over, flaunted his new relationship, now he's single and suddenly you're the bad guy for seeking comfort in one of your closest friends.

"Look Peter. I forgive you for whatever it is that you think you're apologizing for, but I'm not gonna forget about it. You really broke my trust and I won't apologise for getting closer to one of my friends just because you're jealous. You made your bed so lie in it." You told him, firmly, brushing past him and walking to your door before turning to look over your shoulder at him, "Go ahead and let yourself out."

And with that you left him alone in your room as you walked away, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking down in the middle of the hallway.

[eeveecryptid]

※ BORDERLANDS: CL4P-TP EDITION

Various lines that Claptrap has said through Borderlands 3 while scavenging parts for his new friend. feel free to adjust pronouns/phrasing if needed. May include nsfw material.

“joke's on them, haha! all we have inside is circuitry and tears.” “that one has a gyroscopic rotor! keeps us from falling over all the time. mine's been missing for years!” “that claptrap died trying to slide across a car hood. didn't know you could screw that up so bad!” “someone hung up that claptrap and repurposed him as a loudspeaker! barbaric! WE ARE NOT LOUDSPEAKERS!” “my friend's gonna throw the bumpingest parties, and now EVERYONE'S gonna show up!” “finally, i'll have someone to talk to who understands what i'm saying!” “that claptrap died fighting our greatest enemy: stairs!” “looks like he was testing an experimental stair-climbing module. ohhh, i see the problem. he didn't turn it on!” “look at THIS lazy bum!” “yes! that claptrap has a functioning eye! my friend will be SO happy! this universe does not fare well for eyeless robots.” “someone used that claptrap to jumpstart a generator! what could he have that would produce that kind of power?!” “a library of every dubstep song in the entire universe?! but-- they told me there was only one! the wub-wub one!” “when they say it's good to have friends in high places, i'm not sure this is what they were talking about.” “now someone can listen to my podcast besides me! my audience just doubled! oh, mattress advertisers? i'm waaaaaaiting!” “hey! rough night? ha! . . . yeah, i know s/he's dead. let me have this!” “guy must have been expecting some action! he was packing a serious firewall. smart move- you never know what kinda nasty networks someone's been interfacing with. knew a guy who dated a tediore shotgun, and his wheel rotted right off his axle!” “another claptrap, ground beneath the crushing wheels of industry, its back broken as it holds the weight of the world upon its shoulders. ---ooh, what can we steal from it?” “died tickling the old ivories! you wouldn't think our clamps are suited to the piano. and they aren't!” “that guy's got a synthedope harmonizing module! sounds like someone won't have an excuse to miss karaoke night this time! “hahahahahaha-- look at this freaking nerd! haha! he read a book so hard, he died! ahahahaha! what a freaking nerd! ha!” “oh good, a poetry module. that makes me feel . . . good!” “this guy tried to interface with a generator! classic rookie mistake. i mean, heh- we ALL wanna get with a generator. just gotta be smart about it!” “it turns out you CAN synthesize love, with a standard-issue love module! i may not pass the Turing test, but you better believe i pass the Alluring test!” “hah! he got stuck! must have been that big ol' rump!” “yeah! my new friend is gonna have some 'thicc' rear paneling! if you want that looty, you better have an armored booty! ... that's, uh- that was- that was thick with two 'c's, by the way.” “i didn't know claptraps could drown! now i have an entirely new set of fears! thanks!” “with that new paint job, no one will confuse my friend for me! friend or not, no one steals my spotlight and lives to tell the tale! NO ONE!” “junked! in the prime of his/her life!” “it's not often you see a claptrap hair unit. i haven't seen one since my mohawk on liar's berg. yeah, i was pretty punk rock back then.” “whoa, looks like SOMEONE was a chewtoy for a saurian! i get it, we're delicious.” “with that ultra-premium grade multitasking personality modifier, my new best friend will be able to cower and grandstand at the same time!” “someone pushed that guy out of his wheelchair! who does that?!” “you know what they say: 'when the almighty robot policeman closes a door, just open that thing back up!'” “looks like this guy survived a ship crash, only to die in a swamp! sometimes, inside a silver lining is another lining made of swamp poop.” “oh, that's a cl4p-tp hard disk slot. perfect! that'll help my new friend store all her new memories of spending time only with me.” “look at this spore-head! out of his mind on spores! this is what happens when we don't educate our claptraps.” “that's an extended long-term memory enhancement chip! that's super helpful, because our short-term memories are horrible! who are you again? oh, hey! an extended long-term memory enhancement chip!” “someone was dismantling this claptrap for parts! well, one person's robocide is our windfall!” “looks like this guy had it all figured out! interfaced himself to death in a porn cave. we should all be so lucky.” “that's a rugged vzk all-terrain package! it's like four-wheel drive, but in a single wheel! that's just math.” “whoever stuffed this guy into a tire must have hated claptraps. so we've narrowed the suspect list down to ... all of pandora.” “with that wheel, my new friend will be able to dance like a graceful gazelle, if gazelles walked on a single wheel.” “it's a mercenary day miracle! except for that guy.” “with those RGB LEDs, my friend will finally be as beautiful on the outside as i am on the inside!” “oh, he was SO CLOSE to that gas can when he ran out of gas. that's so poignant! weird word. poignant. /poignant/.” “oh, look! that claptrap unit was using his reinforced hand clamps to save that other claptrap unit! how heroic!” “'nooooo!' is what i'd be saying if i didn't super-need those hand clamps! suckers! with that pristine set of cl4-mp hand units, my friend and i can hold hands as we frolic through the meadows and wildflowers and stuff!” “looks like that guy died of excitement! listen up, kids. sometimes thrills . . . can KILLS.” “a functioning pair of cl-class arm units? maybe i'll finally know what a hug feels like.” “awww, the psychos must have adopted that dead claptrap as one of their own. that's- i was gonna say touching, but honestly kinda creepy.” “an adorable heart accessory! no idea what that does, but you can't argue with accessories!” “that's one of the exploratory claptraps sent out to find alien worlds! it found nekrotafeyo on its own! and then got eaten by a plant. circle of life, baby!” “the series-4 vernaculon spectral vocalizer allows for all sorts of figurative language! it's like a spice rack for the speech center!” “rocket safety, people, i can't stress this enough. those things'll crush you!” “ah, a volume control knob. a small but very important upgrade. because who doesn't like TO YELL SOMETIMES?!” “i mean ... guy's on fire.” “oh good, you found some heat vents! that'll be vital for my friend, because we claptraps run hot! reaaaal hot.” “drowned in an alien sea! what voidic mysteries were his final sights? what dark songs of the deep his dirge?” “standard claptrap arms only have thirty-five degrees of movement- not NEARLY enough for high fives! but with this fancy rotator module, we can slap clamp all day long!” “how'd this guy even get here? maybe this place works differently with space... and time!” “oh great! a functioning sarcasm module. i'm just /so happy/ my friend will know when's an appropriate time to use the /all-important/ social tool that is sarcasm!”

[ayatosmlktea]

I love your writing!! can I request where Levi's so and child gets kidnapped and he's just turning everything upside down trying to find his family (protective mode yee). he's so scared and worried when a couple of days pass and he still hasn't found them until his child manages to somehow make it back to base with a few bruises just crying and saying that reader got him to escape but she's still trapped with the kidnappers. so Levi literally goes rage mode to get her back. angst ya know

𝑲𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅

“FUCK!” Levi growled, his fist making contact with the brick wall in front of him. Bits of brick crumbled off the wall and fell onto the dirty alley floor. Y/N and his son had been taken hours ago and they were no where near finding any leads.

One of the scouts who Levi had sent to watch his wife and son had barged into the Commander’s room, a trail of blood running down the side of his face. He had managed to gasp out that Y/N and Noel had been kidnapped by a group of thugs that had knocked him unconsciously while they were caught off guard. Levi felt his blood boil as he immediately bolted out of Erwin’s office. He had made a lot of enemies during his life spent in the underground, as a result he had tried to keep his family private to prevent things like this from happening but he had failed. He’d failed to keep them safe and now they were at the mercy of whoever had taken them. It made him sick to his stomach as he tried not to think of the worst possible outcome in this situation.

His rage was the only thing keeping him going, the raven haired Captain had practically torn apart the whole town looking for them, or for any clues that would lead him to them.

As the sun starts to set a feeling of dread washes over him. They hadn’t managed to find any leads and it seemed hopeless. Erwin was cautious as he approached the Captain knowing that his emotions would be frantic right now.

“Levi, I think it’s best if we go back. We can try looking again tomorrow-“ Erwin goes to place his hand on Levi’s shoulder but he jerks away harshly.

“Like fucking hell I’m going back!” He barks balling his hands into fists as he shoves past Erwin. The thought of his wife and son suffering at the hands of someone because of his past made him feel a type of rage he hadn’t felt in a long time. He would find them with or without Erwin’s help.

Nearly a week had passed by since they had gone missing, Levi was barely seen around the castle neglecting his body’s need for food or sleep, nothing mattered until his wife and son were back in his arms. Hanji had tried talking Levi into at least resting for a few hours, stating that if they had found anything concerning Y/N and Noel that he would need to be at his best to rescue them and not on the verge of exhaustion. While he had been in the midst of arguing with the scientist a soldier had come rushing towards them yelling that his son had made it back to the base. Levi’s feet reacted before his brain had a chance to catch up, his steps pounding against the concrete floor as he rushed to the infirmary with Hanji trailing behind him.

Bursting the doors open he feels temporary relief at seeing Noel sitting on the edge of a bed, his face was bruised and the nurse was bandaging a cut on his arm but for the most part he looked exhausted and scared but otherwise fine. He was alive. Rushing over to his bedside Levi arms envelop him in a crushing hug, his son immediately bursting into tears at the feeling of safety that Levi provided. He feeling tears prick at his own eyes but he wills himself not to cry. He had to be strong for Noel.

Once he had been fed Noel had told them that Y/N had managed to find a way for him to escape but she was still with the men who had taken her. It had taken Noel two days to reach the base by foot, two whole days where Y/N would be subjected to the wrath of her captors for allowing Noel to escape. They had to move fast before it was too late to save his wife.

“Go Levi, I’ll stay with him.” Hanji assured him, he nodded and bent down to hug Noel and place a firm kiss on his head.

“I’m bringing your mom back, so be good for Hanji got it?” Noel nods, his red-rimmed eyes hopeful as he watches his dad storm off. There’s a change in his step, a fiercer look in his eyes reminding Erwin of the Levi he had met in the underground many years ago. His whole demeanour screamed only one thing. Murder.

Y/N feels herself losing energy rapidly. The first few days she had played along with whatever they had asked her to do for the sake of Noel. Once she had orchestrated his escape she breathed a short sigh of relief. He would make it back to the base and get help. He was an Ackerman after all, more importantly he had been raised by two strong-willed people. When they had come back to find him missing they had been furious, their leader barking out orders to search the forests. A laugh managed to slip through her bloody lips, they could try looking for him but Noel had already been gone for hours. She could take the beatings for Levi, for Noel. She was a soldier for God’s sake, her mind was trained to block out physical needs for the sake of the end goal. She didn’t make a sound as they broke her fingers, her eyes trained on the floor her mind blank as she separates the sensation of pain from her body.

Her jaw remained clenched as one of them grabbed a fist full of her hair painfully jerking her head back as he leaned down to her ear. She says nothing as they threaten to kill her unless she provides information on Levi’s whereabouts.

“Ha, if you’re asking me to find him then you’re the shittiest criminals I’ve ever met.” She taunts, with Noel out of the way she was free to be the silver-tongued stubborn brat Levi had fallen in love with.

She had lost track of time since then, her limbs stiff from being restrained to the chair for so long. She had been losing a lot of blood, her white uniform stained with fresh red blood covering up the dried blood stains from earlier. Y/N’s breathing becomes more shallow, her consciousness going in and out but she forces her mind to focus on something to keep her from falling asleep. Not that they would let her.

A sharp slap to her face momentarily clears the fog in her mind.

“Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.” She can’t find the strength to respond, her body screaming for water and sleep. Her lips were cracked, there was a constant throbbing in her thigh where the knife was still twisted in. The last six years of her life flashing in her mind suddenly. She remembers the day Noel was born, his first steps, the first time he smiled, the first time he had said mommy. She pictures Levi holding her against him, whispering sweet nothings her ear, she sees Levi holding their sweet baby boy against his chest as he slept. Her eyes grow heavier, hot tears running down her cheeks, her head falling forward of its own volition.

‘I’m sorry’ She cries before her vision fades too black.

They had reached the abandoned hours in a matter of hours, Levi forcing his horse to run faster with Erwin and a few other soldiers behind him. The only thought driving him was to save Y/N before it was too late. He was going to kill whoever it was, there was no room for anything else. They had declared war on him the minute they had thought to kidnap his family. He dismounts his horse with lightning speed, kicking down the front door with enough form to shake the frame. Upon entering the house he sees two men drawing their weapons prepared to take him down. Levi moves without hesitation, swiftly rendering them unconscious as if possessed by the devil himself. He notices a trap door uncovered by the dirty rug on the floor and lifts it. Dropping into the basement he hears the sharp sound of skin being slapped. Narrowing his eyes and gripping his sword tightly he bursts into the room, his heart nearly stopping at the scene before him. Y/N isn’t moving, her head hanging against her chest and covered in blood. Too much blood. He feels a familiar surge of inhumane power course through his veins similar to the first time it happened, his expression almost feral as he ends the man’s life.

Levi drops to his knees, his emotions coming back in tidal waves all at once. His hands shaking as he undoes the restrains keeping his wife in the chair. He presses his ear against her chest desperate to hear her heart beat. Seconds goes by before he hears it, it’s not strong but it’s there! His Y/N is still alive. Gingerly lifting her up he pulls her against his chest and races back upstairs.

Erwin had seen a lot of blood in his time, he’d seen a lot of people die in horrible ways too but the sight of Levi carrying what looked like Y/N’s corpse made his stomach churn. Levi wouldn’t let anyone touch her, opting to bandage her wounds himself. His mind was still in fight mode and probably would be until they were back at the base. His hand gripping her limp one as his heart prayed out to any god that was listening not to take his wife from him.

The first thing Y/N saw when she opened her eyes was Levi. For a split second she wondered if she was dead and this was her version of Heaven. Until she heard Noel crying in relief as he gripped her hand tightly. Despite the pain jolting through her whole body with every move she made she pulled their son against her chest, her own tears falling into his hair.

“I’m so proud of you baby. You did so well.” She murmurs making him cry even harder and push his body closer into hers. Her eyes shift her to Levi’s, smiling through her tears she tugs at his hand wanting him to join them in bed. He looked drained, his eyes bloodshot as he climbs into the cramped bed feeling his throat closing up at having his family back in his arms. Noel falls asleep between them, the events of the past week too much for his little body to handle. Levi’s fingers gently stroking her face as he carefully reaches over to kiss her.

“Thank you for saving us.” She whispers against his lips, their forehands resting against each other.

“Always.”

Masterlist

[pidgeonspen]

Assorted IDW thoughts

Let me preface this by saying Ian Flynn is not a perfect writer. 

I personally believe his greatest weakness is in writing this long, spanning arcs. We’ve seen this even in Archie with the Mecha Sally arc, and in post-reboot with the Shattered World Crisis arc. And it’s reared it’s ugly head again with the Zombot arc in IDW.

He also has a habit of favoring certain characters and trying a little too hard to argue why they’re good/likeable - this was especially a problem with Sally in his early run. 

With that said: I mostly enjoyed the Zombot Arc. I am someone who has been absolutely exhausted by media’s fixation on Zombies, but I found the Zombot arc... endearing, actually. 

The Zombot concept was a fun, fresh take and arguably more nightmarish than the average zombie, in that they were largely indestructible and you’d only need the slightest touch to be infected. And again, they couldn’t be put down.

An unfortunately common criticism I hear about the series is that this arc was “too dark” for a Sonic the hedgehog comic, which I find to be an odd take.

The Sonic series has always dipped its toes into darker concepts. We have the bad ending from Sonic 2, and far less implied is the death of Maria Robotnik in Sonic Adventure 2 - in which we witness, as part of Shadow’s backstory: an unarmed, terminally ill 12-year-old girl being shot and killed.

In that same game, Eggman acquired a super space Fuck You cannon and destroyed a part of the moon, and made a very clear threat to fire it at the Earth.

Sonic Adventure 1 showed us an entire civilization that was wiped out after harming a bunch of innocent Chao and angering a god. Perfect Chaos leveled an entire populated city - even if you make the argument that an evacuation was put in effect and nobody died (which I don’t believe), that’s still an entire city’s worth of people who are now homeless.

There was also Sonic Battle and Emerl’s entire plight, which saw the entire main cast coming together to raise this robot like a sibling, who all loved him and were loved by him in turn, and ended with Sonic having to kill him. 

Sonic and The Secret Rings had Shahra die on-screen. I mean, she got better but still.

And don’t get me started on all the fucked up things that happen during the events of  the Shadow the Hedgehog game.

The point is, the Sonic the Hedgehog series has always had these bleak, dark moments. I don’t feel like the Zombot Arc was any darker than what we’ve already seen in this series. We’ve seen these characters backed into corners, we’ve seen on-screen deaths, we’ve seen these characters break before.

I feel like this criticism is misdirected; I think when people say the arc was too dark, what they mean is that it’s too long.  If we’re counting the Zombot saga starting at issue 15 (when Rough & Tumble got infected), this story arc has been going on for... 14 issues. With delays in mind, this arc feels like it dragged its feet horribly. 

Now, with regards to Characterization...

I think we all can agree SEGA’s recent takes on Shadow’s character are ass. There, I said it. Taking away all the development he had over the course of SA2, Heroes, ShTH and other instances - and making it so he apparently doesn’t consider Rouge and Omega his friends - is such a mind-numbingly stupid move.

Ian usually writes a good Shadow (seriously, Sonic Universe arcs “The Shadow Saga”, “Treasure Team Tango”  - both pre-reboot arcs - and “Shadowfall” + “Total Eclipse” from the post reboot were really good!) but these mandates on Shadow’s character kill me. 

But unfortunately, Shadow isn’t the only character who suffered during this arc. Eggman started off the arc really well, but his choices and lackadaisical attitude towards how rapidly his plan spiraled out of control was so wildly OOC and frankly, dumb. It was frustrating to read through and didn’t feel like Ian’s usual mastermind Eggman.  It read as though Ian hit a bump in which he realized he needed a work around for why Eggman wasn’t doing anything about losing control over the Zombots and  decided to just have him not care. I can’t remember if a reason for this characterization was ever given. 

 Now, this on the other hand...

This is a scene I’ve seen people rag on for being OOC for Tails, and even comparing it to the abysmal portrayal we got in Forces. 

Here’s the thing: I don’t think this was OOC for Tails. 

Lets look at Tails’ characterizations in, say, the Adventure-era games. His entire character arc in both was him realizing his own potential as someone who can stand on his own two feet, without needing to rely on Sonic. And he did it! By SA2, Tails has achieved his own independence. 

When he believes Eggman has truly killed Sonic, Tails is sad, but he’s also determined to stop Eggman, to keep fighting no matter what and hold his head high, because he knows he can do this. He won’t let Sonic’s faith in him be misplaced. 

... But this isn’t like that situation, now is it?

Lets review Tails’ ploy over the course of this arc: He studied Sonic to the best of his abilities to try and discover how to cure his friend. He was confident and certain he could figure it out.

But the infection kept spreading. People - innocent people - were being claimed by the outbreak, and the pressure began to build. People Tails knew and cared about were being turned. The situation was growing more and more desperate. 

All the while, they slowly lost faith in Sonic, who was showing signs of fatigue. We also know from when Tangle was infected that the transformation into a Zombot is uncomfortable, if not painful. 

People around Tails were suffering, losing loved ones - and we, as the audience, knew that nobody was actually dead from this, but the characters don’t. Silver came from a future where the whole world became infected.

And just as soon as Tails came close to solving everything, it was all cruelly ripped away. Every time they thought they had a solution, it was lost. 

When the Zombots reached Angel Island,Sonic was at the point where he could hardly fight the infection off anymore. Zavok was advancing. They’d lost poor little Cream. They lost Knuckles. 

And Tails was slowly succumbing to the infection. 

I don’t think this was OOC. I think it made perfect sense, because the world was literally falling apart right in front of Tails’ eyes, and unlike SA2, there was nothing he could do about it at this point. He’s being infected and watching his friends fall while knowing that Silver’s future is a possible outcome.

He’s having to resort to pleading Sonic to succeed because this poor kid has watched the world fall before his eyes - and worse yet, he came so close to having the means to save it. 

I don’t agree that strong characters breaking makes them OOC. I think this serves to show just how broken Tails is by everything that’s happened, how bleak the situation is, and how genuinely scared he is. And who could blame him?

In conclusion, I think IDW Sonic has its flaws - Ian has some serious faults as a writer, but he’s also really good and has a clear passion for the series and characters. 

I enjoyed this arc for the most part - I just wish it had been trimmed down some. 

[samwpmarleau]

1) It doesn’t fit with GRRM’s track record to introduce something as monumental as this, let alone so late in the game, and have it be what it says on the tin. For Aegon to actually be Elia and Rhaegar’s son who miraculously appears at the 11th hour to save the day doesn’t fit at all. Also, unfortunately, GRRM’s presentation of his characters of color is absolutely abysmal. While he debunked the theory of Dany blowing up the Water Gardens (THANK GOD), that doesn’t mean he’s going to magically treat Dorne how it deserves to be treated. A lot of the “evidence” I’ve seen about Aegon being real hinges on GRRM actually doing right by his characters of color and their associated storylines, which is … not likely.

2) The Golden Company was founded by Bittersteel, the #1 Blackfyre supporter who kept trying to make the Blackfyre cause succeed even long after Daemon was dead. The GC has been faithfully pro-Blackfyre ever since, and was even led by a Blackfyre, Maelys, in the Fifth Rebellion as well, which was not all that long ago.

3) The GC has never broken a contract before — in fact, their words have been “as good as gold” since the very beginning when Bittersteel founded it — so why would they now? They would only break a contract for blood (“some contracts are writ in ink, and some in blood”), for a Blackfyre. They broke the contract so they can help put Aegon on the throne and finally complete what Daemon and Bittersteel began.

4) The GC met with Viserys and Dany and laughed them out of the room. Why would they then be all gung-ho for a different Targaryen? Viserys wasn’t even a madman or pathetic when he met with them (Dany was still “a little girl”), Robert had only recently gotten the throne and therefore it was at its most vulnerable, and Viserys was well-known in Westeros as the Targaryen heir. If they were going to support a Targaryen, it would have been Viserys. Or Daenerys. Yet they didn’t. So why support Viserys’s alleged nephew instead? They would only do so because the Targaryen was only nominally one, in reality a Blackfyre.

5) Illyrio specifically says the Blackfyres are extinct in the male line, meaning they are still around, only through the female line, such as Illyrio’s late wife Serra. Aegon being Illyrio and Serra’s son would explain Illyrio’s fondness for the boy, why he’s so sad to see him go, and why he’s so invested in putting a “Targaryen” on the throne. Additionally, he found Serra as a sex slave in a Lysene brothel — quite a long ways down from the favored son of a Targaryen king. It would make sense for Illyrio, who loved her deeply, to in her memory restore what was “stolen” from her family.

6) Illyrio has a trunk full of children’s clothes, despite the fact that he’s supposed to be childless. Good clothes, too. (Those clothes are also blue, the color Aegon dyes his hair. Maybe a coincidence, maybe not.)

7) JonCon notes that Rhaegar’s eyes were “a deep purple, darker than this boy’s,” implying to us the reader that Aegon is not Rhaegar’s. It’s also a hint that JonCon has suspicions that Aegon is not the real deal but is in denial, because if Aegon isn’t real, then that means Rhaegar really is lost to him forever and he can do nothing to avenge him.

8) I’ve seen the argument for “sun’s son” being Aegon but it doesn’t make sense. Asha is called the kraken’s daughter, for one, despite being a Greyjoy in her own right, so yes, it tracks that Quentyn can be called the “sun’s son” despite being a “sun” himself (and it just has better rhythm). Plus, if he weren’t the “sun’s son,” how would he instead be the “mummer’s dragon”? He’s not a dragon, he’s not a fake, nor is he being controlled by a mummer, whereas that fits for Aegon. And in Dany’s HOTU vision, there’s a cloth dragon swaying on poles above a cheering crowd — how would Quentyn fit that either (especially since he’s dead)? But Aegon would. This is also in the same passage as “slayer of lies,” mind you. Aegon is the lie to be slain. The other people in the prophecy are pretty clear as to their identities, so why would “sun’s sun” and “mummer’s dragon” be riddles?

9) The Blackfyres and their rebellions have been developed more and more through the years, including an entire Dunk and Egg book about the second one. Would be a bit odd to completely drop that thread, no? The Third Rebellion didn’t even happen until late in Aerys I’s reign, so it’s not like the Blackfyres will play a central role any time soon in D&E. In the main series, however, they would. Plus, GRRM wrote the D&E book about the Second Rebellion while he was also writing ADWD, and it’s in ADWD that history lessons about the Blackfyres are repeatedly brought up.

10) The parallel between Aegon and Jon. Jon is a real secret Targaryen raised without knowing his true identity, whereas Aegon is a fake secret Targaryen raised without knowing his true identity.

11) There’s plenty of the “human heart in conflict with itself” that GRRM loves with him being fake. Dany gets another family member, the son of her beloved brother Rhaegar — only to find out Aegon’s a fake. JonCon raises a child for over a decade, the son of his beloved Rhaegar, redemption for losing at Stoney Sept — only to find out Aegon’s a fake. Dorne (Doran specifically) gets a piece of their beloved Elia back — only to find out Aegon’s a fake. Aegon himself has believed his whole life that he’s Elia and Rhaegar’s son, the heir to the throne, has gone through many hardships to get where he is — only to find out he’s been lied to since day one. Those are all very real, very poignant beats.

12a) The supposition that Elia would save her son but not her daughter — Dornish Elia, who would value her daughter just as much as her son — is nonsensical to me. I CANNOT get behind that one bit. Maybe I can justify Elia being willing to sacrifice someone else’s innocent baby if it meant saving her own (though that’s a horrible and heartless thing to do), but I CANNOT see a justification for her saving Aegon yet not Rhaenys. 

Moreover, if the baby weren’t Aegon, why would Elia be so willing to die for it? If it weren’t hers, if she had been pragmatic/cold enough to trade her baby for someone else’s, why on EARTH would she not have left that baby in the nursery and gone with Rhaenys, her actual child? The men Tywin sent had a reputation even back then and had scaled the walls of Maegor’s Holdfast. Elia would be dumb as a bag of bricks to think they would spare “her” son and Rhaenys, or possibly even herself. If they were to magically spare “Aegon,” great! Everyone’s happy (except Tywin). But why would Elia take that risk? No. She would only tell Rhaenys to run away yet stay with Aegon because he was her child and she had no other choice.

12b) If Elia switched the babies, then why don’t the Martells know anything about it? They were involved in a Targaryen restoration, Oberyn even went to Essos to sign the betrothal pact between Arianne and Viserys. Yet none of them know that their nephew is alive? If Elia really did take the pains to switch the babies for her son’s safety, why would she not have involved her family? At the very least, by having whoever she sent Aegon with even just hint to her family that he’s alive? But they know nothing. Zilch. They put their eggs in Viserys’s basket, then Dany’s, who are at best Elia-adjacent.

12c) Who would even be able to do such a thing as switch out the babies without a soul being the wiser? Varys, probably, but there is no way in hell Elia would entrust her son to him. Far beyond simply being a shady person in general who is out for himself and himself alone, he was the one who purposefully whispered in Aerys’s ear about invented conspiracies and betrayals. He made Aerys more paranoid, more dangerous. To the detriment of Rhaegar, Elia, their children, and the realm at large. Varys is the entire reason Aerys went to the Tourney at Harrenhal in the first place, because he convinced him that Rhaegar convened the tourney to meet with a bunch of lords in order to depose Aerys. Varys directly and gleefully contributed to Aerys’s further descent into tyranny.

Elia wouldn’t have trusted Varys as far as she could throw him, certainly not with something as precious as her child, not even if she were desperate. Even if she did trust him for some insane reason, how is Varys so powerful as to find a lookalike for Aegon but not for Rhaenys? Surely it’s easier to find a black-haired, brown-eyed toddler than a silver-haired, purple-eyed baby, no? Or why couldn’t he direct Elia to one of the many secret passageways so she could escape with the kids rather than this convoluted baby swap? Or any number of other things? At every turn, Aegon (but not Rhaenys!) being spirited away by anyone, most especially Varys, doesn’t hold up. Hell, why would Varys help Elia? What does he have to gain by not only helping her but egregiously undermining Aerys? Aerys whose ear he’s been meticulously whispering into, Aerys who’s the only reason Varys is at court and has power at all? Agreeing to and orchestrating the baby swap runs counter to everything we know about him.

13) Aegon being real means Elia and Dorne are essentially dealt two blows. We and they spend all this time believing her son was brutally murdered in King’s Landing. But then, psych! He’s actually alive! They get their hopes up, the wound is opened all over again, only for him to … be brutally murdered in King’s Landing. (Or possibly elsewhere, but likely KL.) Why is that better? What would be the point of Aegon being Elia and Rhaegar’s son if he’s just going to die like his “cover story” says he did? Actually, they’d be dealt three blows, really, given that Quentyn died as well in the pursuit of Targaryen restoration. Things are going to be painful enough without having Aegon be the real Aegon.

14) JonCon didn’t come to be Aegon’s caretaker until Aegon was 5. In other words, he wouldn’t recognize whether or not this Aegon is the one he saw as a baby. But because he’s so personally invested in Aegon being the real deal, he doesn’t question it too much. The result is that JonCon, who is well-known to have been close to Rhaegar and thus Elia (proximally, not emotionally of course, what with him hating her and all), him caring for the boy lends viability to the story. Which we see in action by Doran believing, or at least being willing to listen to, JonCon’s letter.

15) The Toynes have a very negative history with the Targaryens (and Barristan) but a positive one with the Blackfyres. Would it not make more sense for Myles Toyne to align himself with a Blackfyre rather than a Targaryen? Myles, who was the one who put his seal to the secret pact?

16a) It’s been 84 years. Even R+L=J, which is as much of a sure thing as you can possibly get, is disputed by some in the fandom. Some people believe Ashara Dayne is alive, and a subset of those go so far as to say she’s Jyana Reed. Some people have some theory about the Boltons being vampires. Like. It has been so long since the last book that things that would have been surprises or interesting twists have been examined to death, so by now they seem “too obvious.” Ten years ago, Aegon being real would undoubtedly have been a much more believed thing, because we’d have just recently been told it. But now? There’s been ample time to parse everything out and to determine that no, he likely isn’t real. Same for R+L=J. Ten years ago, or longer, Jon being revealed to be the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna would have been a bombshell. But now? It’s obvious as fuck. So to circle back around to “Yep, Aegon is real!” ignores the fact that it’s supposed to be a smokescreen and a twist.

16b) Related to this is GRRM’s own words. There’s an SSM where he’s asked whether Rhaenys and Aegon are really dead. He affirms that Rhaenys is but hedges for Aegon. Why? Not because he’s saying Aegon is real, but because he’s introducing the Young Griff arc. If he were to say, “Aegon’s definitely dead, too,” or “Aegon’s definitely alive,” that would completely spoil the tension and truth/untruth of the storyline.

Do I know that Aegon’s a fake? Obviously not, since we don’t have the books. But the evidence points to it being extremely unlikely that he’s the real deal. Like I also said, however, I’m not sure it really matters whether he is or not. So far as he knows, he’s truly Elia and Rhaegar’s son. His name is Aegon, he was raised to be a king, he seems to be quite a decent young man (people who cite him tipping over the cyvasse board can suck it), he will probably ride a dragon at some point, and so on. At the end of the day, who he’s biologically related to doesn’t seem super relevant.

[ashenpages]

Current Fic Ideas & Emoji Voting Key

Quick disclaimer that I’m a romance writer in all aspects of the term, so most of my fics will contain mature content. Engage at your own risk, you know the rules, you’re responsible for curating your own experience of the internet, blah blah blah. This post serves as a current mock up of fic ideas I’m either actively working on or considering working on next. You can drop me an ask about any of them, or just vote via the emoji combo I’ve assigned them.

Voting lets me know you’re excited about an idea and makes it more likely I’ll actually work on it. You can vote anytime, there’re no deadlines or winner announcements, just me gauging your interest by what I see in my ask box most often.

You can also ask me about the original stuff I’m working on currently. The current WIPs are Medusa centric and the emoji for them is: 🐍

- Lupin: 🤑🤠💍  These are all oneshot ideas, between 5-15K each. If you want to vote for a specific idea, send me the emojis and the number of the idea. 

Lupin, Jigen, and Goemon always play rock-paper-scissors after a big heist to decide who’ll give the group a striptease, and who will get showered with money. Based on a piece of fanart that is basically this sequence of events in a 4koma (except in their version Jigen loses and in mine, it’s Goemon). (written, just needs editing)

Zenigata cuffs Lupin four times, and Lupin steals his heart. Very NSFW conclusion. Zenigata is the most caring lover you’ll ever find. Lupin is as thirsty as usual and twice as intense. (written, just needs editing)

Jigen protects Lupin from poison darts during a treasure hunt in an Aztec temple, and Lupin nurses him back to help--forcibly, since Jigen is a horrible patient. Born from my desire to spoil Jigen and talk about what ridiculous domestic husbands these two are. (WIP)

Born from the idea that Goemon and Zenigata probably couldn’t be an item, my brain decided to come up with how I could write for them. Goemon’s teaching an ikebana class as part of his training, and Zenigata shows up as a student on forced recreational leave for his health from the ICPO. Zenigata wins the samurai’s heart through flowers. But what happens when Lupin and Jigen find out? (Only good sexy things, I promise. These beans are in a healthy polycule--be gay, do crimes)

Trans!Lupin and Trans!Jigen premise: Jigen cares for Lupin after the master thief has top surgery, since Jigen has Been There and Done That. Caring, sweet, and a little sexy. Lupin is a much better patient than Jigen.

- Sonic Vampire Novelist Coffee Shop AU: 📚☕💐 

Shadow is an immortal vampire who has seen the world change for the worse too many times. These days it feels like he only lives for his coffee dates with Rouge, another immortal who loves each new era they encounter, warts and all. He has to admit that the book series she got him into speaks to him, at least. If someone in this era can understand him without meeting him, it can’t all be bad. But he hardly expected the goofy blue barista at the new coffee place to understand him the way those books do.

This is a novel length romcom romp with some big feelings about what it means to watch as things change, grow, and die. Expect lots of Big gothic feelings from this one, emotionally charged kissing, and overly-adoring sex. But also expect shenanigans from everyone in the coffee shop, which include Rouge, Amy, Tails, Knuckles, Cream, and more.

- Sonic Blazamy: 💖🌸💎

Amy Rose has been in love with Sonic for a while.

Or has she?

When the Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow, and Silver are trapped as the fuel sources for Doctor Eggman’s newest evil scheme, Amy teams up with Blaze, Rouge, and Cream to save them. With Sonic out of the picture and Amy fulfilling his role, was she ever really in love with him? Or did she just want to be like him?

This is a novel length epic romance with lots of competent women and lots of romantic Blazamy content. Expect flowery hopes and dreams, badass self-actualization, and glancing hand touches that give way to cuddly and sweet sex.

- Persona 5: 🗡🍛☕

After bringing down the Metaverse twice, Ryuji didn’t think graduating high school and figuring out what to do with his life would be so hard. Akira’s back in town, and the gang’s more-or-less all in Tokyo, but everyone else seems to have a plan while Ryuji just floats. How’s he supposed to change the world when he’s not a phantom thief anymore?

This is a novel length fic that addresses how powerless one can feel being just one person in the face of all the corrupted systems and bigotry the world has to offer. It’s about holding on to what you believe in, working through the doubt, and fighting your way to a better tomorrow with the power you do have. The whole gang is queer, featured relationships being Mako x Ann, Ryuji x Akira, Futaba & Yusuke as platonic life partners. Akira is polyamorous and omnisexual, Futaba’s asexual and aromantic while Yusuke is demisexual and very romantic, Makoto’s a lesbian, Ann and Ryuji are bi, and Haru’s pansexual, demisexual, and aromantic. They’re one giant band of queer Phantom Thieves, and even if they’re not really doing the Metaverse thing anymore, they’re still gonna save the world!

Also, I’m gonna make Makoto not a cop. That super didn’t age well. Zenkichi and his boss can work on making them better/abolishing them for other better organizations.

- Hades Game: ❤️‍🔥💀

Oneshot. I just really need to elaborate on the threesome you can have with them in-game, okay? Healthy and canon poly relationships are so few and far between, so often I have to do a ton of groundwork to explain why it’s working in the fic, but NOT WITH THESE KIDS!

Get ready for Meg helping Zag and Than be better at expressing their feelings, lots of kissing, and probably pegging.

- Castlevania Animation Trevor/Sypha/Alucard: 🧛🏰🛌 

Castlevania gave Alucard a threesome last season, and I just really need S4 to give me him being taken care of by his partners. They’re probably not going to give it to me, so I’ll need to do it myself. This is just an everybody loves Alucard oneshot, with the gang’s signature banter (to an extent), Sypha being sexy, and Trever being remarkably sincere. This fic is gonna feel like that Ann Hathaway picture with Trevor kissing Alucard and Sypha holding the end of Trevor’s whip while she leans her head on Alucard’s shoulder adoringly.

- Devil May Cry Nico/Lady/Trish: 💋✨😈 

Nico’s gay, okay? Like really, really gay. And Lady’s bi and not into men who make her pay bills, but very into women who make amazing guns for her and demonesses with hearts who fight by her side. Trish is ace, but loves people and is pretty attached to Lady at this point. Plus it’s cute when Lady blushes and says nice things like they’re insults. I don’t have super solid ideas for them yet, and I envision these more like a polycule where Lady’s with Nico and with Trish but they’re not with each other more than seeing it as a threesome, but who knows what might happen. This is probably 1-2 oneshots depending on ideas, but might turn into a series of oneshots if people are interested (or I can’t control myself and inspiration strikes).

- Post FMA:B Blind Roy & No Alchemy Ed: 👀👑🙏

This is actually an old novel-length fic I wrote ages ago and didn’t post that didn’t turn out well because I was new to writing sex when I first wrote it. The plot is good, and is all about Roy learning to work with his blindness to reclaim his ambition of being Fuhrer and changing the system to something that actually cares for its people. He and Ed reconnect, fall into bed, and both set about working through their respective traumas about being “useless” having lost their sight/alchemy. They go to Xing as an ambassadorial party to offer Amestris’s collaboration on Al and May’s Alkahestry experiments--and uncover a plot that might threaten both kingdoms.

- Age of Calamity continuity Mipha x Revali: 🦚🐟💘

The first time Revali noticed Mipha, it was in the heat of battle. She stole his mark, taking them down with a flurry of quick blows from her spear. Violence rained from her like water--and then she healed him on her way to her next battle. No questions, no conditions, just pure kindness. The usual need to measure himself against those around him was quiet in her wake. And Revali couldn’t understand it. But how to get to know more about her? A fish and bird may fall in love, but where would they live?

This fic could be a oneshot or novel length depending on how far down the hole I fall. I need it to cover time, but it could be done in linked vignettes or with actually covering events in detail. I may elect to do a oneshot just to get it done and out of my system faster. So much fic to write, so little time.

Expect trans!Revali, polyamorous Zoras, scary competent Mipha, songbird Revali, love confessions that are made up entirely of berating Link for not loving Mipha the way she wants him to, and breaking these characters a little outside of their assigned roles in BotW and Age of Calamity. Background Link x Zelda, and Urbosa x Zelda’s Mom.

- Epic desert romance about Urbosa and Zelda’s mom: 🏜🏝⚡

I just think Urbosa should kiss women and Zelda’s mom should get more development and maybe a name or something. Also, lightning imagery/metaphors/play.

It also went way over my head that Riju wasn’t Urbosa’s daughter the first time I played BotW, so now I want to write about the Gerudo queen who refused to produce an heir. The Gerudo are fascinating and have a very interesting cutlure, but I think it could be examined from a nonbinary perspective that rejected pregnancy and wanting to find a husband. Not in like a hateful way, but in a way that examines if that’s really right for everyone. There’s that shop in town that sells Voe armor, after all. Maybe finding a husband and having children isn’t something you have to do if you don’t want to. And Urbosa really doesn’t want to.

[sweetenthislittlehand]

drarry fic recs

since i read so much fanfiction, and most of it drarry, i decided to make a rec list specifically for all my favorite drarry fics. because what else are you gonna do when you’re under quarantine? and i’ve got a lot of recs, so get comfortable.

first off, lemme just say that if you haven’t read any Saras_Girl fics, you absolutely should. she’s my favorite fic author of all time, really only ever writes drarry (although a lot of her fics feature background romione), and she’s still an active writer. there’ll be a lot of her stuff on this list, so if you don’t know where to start, just keep reading.

Reparations by Saras_Girl  [87k, E]

Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

this is my favorite fic of all time, okay? harry is a healer trainee at st. mungo’s, and all the trainees go through rotations in different departments of the hospital. harry’s first rotation is in the chemical dependency department, where he discovers he’ll be working under none other than our illustrious draco malfoy. this is so well written, and the characterization is so spot on, and it’s the perfect slowburn. i’ve read it so many times. i practically consider it canon at this point. (it’s also part of a series — Foundations!verse — and i love the sequel just as much.)

Talk To Me by Saras_Girl  [15k, T]

When the usual channels of communication are shut down, the most surprising people can find a way in. A strange little love story.

probably my favorite one-shot. it’s an eighth year fic, but honestly, the year isn’t important to the story. harry gets hit more-or-less accidentally by a spell that renders him blind and deaf, and a *mysterious person* comes to his rescue. it’s the absolute sweetest thing i have ever read in my life. without the means to communicate normally, draco writes the words with his finger on the palm of harry’s hand. the characterization, again, is perfect. and harry figuring things out and reconciling apparently conflicting ideas of what he knows of draco left me squealing.

Building It Together by digthewriter  [27k, E]

Forced proximity can only lead to bad things, right? Right.

this is such an original fic, and the concept is so intriguing. grimmauld place is tearing itself apart because harry’s been avoiding the house and its memories, and it finally breaks its magical ties to him. and sirius’ nearest blood relative is none other than draco malfoy. to save the house from itself and restore it to harry, draco has to move in, and with sections of the house disappearing... there’s only one bed. also let me just say that draco’s job is the most original thing i’ve ever seen, and it’s so fascinating and magical, and i love it. this is such a good fic.

Feel You In These Walls by alpha_exodus  [6k, E]

Just this once, Harry thinks. Just this once, they'll kiss, they'll have sex, and then it'll be over. Draco hadn't expected more than that either. But then it happens again, again, and neither of them had anticipated having feelings involved - but then they've never been able to keep anything casual, have they?

i don’t usually read fics that are smut-centric, cause, y’know... asexual. but i really like this one. it’s beautifully written, and the dynamic is just. so great. also, asexual or no, i am not immune to tension. (i’ll take or leave the smut — in fact i’d mostly rather leave it — but unresolved tension? heck yeah.)

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl  [60k, M]

When the war isn’t quite as over as it first appears, a guilt-ridden Harry is sent to a mysterious safe-house. Among sandwiches, insomnia, and Mills & Boon, he discovers something quite unexpected.

in the face of the dangers of the remaining deatheaters who have not been apprehended, mcgonagall sends harry, ron, and hermione to a safe-house. narcissa malfoy, having saved harry’s life asks one thing of him: to take draco with him into hiding. things take an unexpected turn when draco accidentally fouls up a spell and binds harry’s wrist to his by a silver thread that will only break when the people bonded ‘have reached a point of mutual understanding, confidence, and accord’. it’s so well-written, and i love the setting, and everything a lot. it’s wonderful.

Stealing Sweaters by DorthyAnn  [12k, T]

It's their eighth and final year and over the course of several months, Harry and Draco have managed to become close friends. Their friends are entirely certain that they ought to be much, much more. So they just decide to... help things along.

this is so sweet, so fluffy. i die. harry and draco’s relationship in this is to live for. there’s platonic cuddling and hugging and sweater stealing, and then comes the realization that it’s maybe not as platonic as they thought. the idea behind this one is that harry and draco’s friends think they know what they need, and decide to meddle, and really all they’ve done is mess everything up.

Rainfall by Saras_Girl  [4k, T]

So what if Draco has a rain kink? Everyone likes something weird.

literally the only thing you need to know about this fic is that draco has a rain kink. it’s bloody fantastic. i think you’ll find this is as much about draco as it is about drarry, and if you’re as obsessed with draco as i am, you’re gonna love that. (and by that, i mean draco absolutely soaked and with his face tipped up into the falling rain. it’s a beautiful mental picture.)

On a Clear Day by Saras_Girl  [41k, M]

Draco Malfoy is waiting for his real life to begin, and it appears that he’s not the only one. Coffee, charity, and the wisdom of the elderly.

draco works for a charity, and his boss is very insistent that he get harry potter to attend their next event. except that harry potter doesn’t attend events at all, and he hasn’t responded to any of draco’s owls, and draco’s just about had it. this is a marvelous fic. it deals with draco feeling the pressure of restoring his family’s good name, it deals with harry’s trauma, how his past experiences have affected him after the war, it deals with the relationship between them in a really important way. because it’s a ‘no i actually hate you, you were a bastard’ and there’s no ‘wait, is that sexual tension’ and ‘well, maybe it’s okay because he was a child at the time’. not that those aren’t valid and really good things to read about in fics, but it’s nice to see it from this ‘i’m a mature adult, so i’m not gonna be petty about this, but i do actually hate you’ angle. i like it a lot.

Time and Again by manixzen  [64k, E]               work in progress

Harry's absolutely sure it's Malfoy's fault that they are stuck reliving the same day over and over. Harry is good at his job. He's professional, has an excellent closure rate, and is a well-respected Auror. Malfoy's the unprofessional one with his snark and his judgemental eyebrows and his far too-posh-for-work robes. If Malfoy could have managed to refrain from being a pain in the arse, everything would have been just fine. They wouldn’t have gotten in yet another argument, Harry wouldn’t have been distracted, and Harry certainly wouldn’t have accidentally set off a powerful artifact at their crime scene. And if Malfoy would just get out of his way now, Harry's sure he can quickly fix this so they can get back to their comfortable professional dislike of one another.

so, it is a work in progress, and i know a lot of people don’t like reading those (myself included), but it’s being regularly updated, and there’s only one chapter left. so i’d definitely recommend it! it’s a pretty great fic, and worth a read.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop  [70k, E]

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

just in case one time loop fic isn’t enough for you, why not have two? this one’s also really enjoyable, and i think you should give it a go. if you only have the attention span for a single time loop fic, i would probably suggest Time and Again over this one, but that’s a personal preference. this one has some pretty great moments all its own, and they’re both good reads.

All Life Is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl  [114k, M]

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

alright, i realize that this is the length of an actual novel, and that i probably should not have read this as many times as i have, but when you find a fic as good as this one, you can’t just ignore it. this fic is beauty itself, it’s the essence of life, it’s mandatory for everything. you want to go to college? they ask about this fic on your application. you want to get married? there are things you need to know beforehand, like ‘stanley the beetle doesn’t like transfigured mint leaves as much as the real ones’. that’s essential. i don’t know if i like this fic so much because of how good it is, or just because of pet beetle owner solidarity.

Good To Me (And I’d Be So Good to You) by AWickedMemory (TeddyLaCroix)  [8k, G]

Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry's groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that's okay: Harry's got a plan.

this fic is pure fluff, and if that’s not your thing i get that, but the premise of this is just so cute. because harry’s got a mental catalog of facts about draco malfoy and a) that’s hilarious and adorable, and b) they’re actually really interesting and insightful for draco’s characterization. also the end reveal is !!!

Thermodynamic Equilibrium by DorthyAnn  [5k, T]

Harry's far too hot. Draco's always cold. And somehow against all odds, together they create a perfect equilibrium.

because this trope never gets old, and this is really nice. there’s so much cuddling, and so many blurred lines between friendship and romance, and i love it. i’m a firm advocate of cuddling in every fanfiction ever. no fic is complete without it.

Helix by Saras_Girl  [92k, E]

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again.

it’s about snails. in an effort to get harry and draco to get along a little better, mcgonagall assigns them to overseeing the care of some very delicate snails for hagrid. there’s lots of heartfelt conversations, and struggles, and they’re very in love, so that’s nice. there’s also some really well-handled snape content, which i actually appreciate a lot, despite not really liking snape. it sets snape as draco’s godfather (which is a headcanon i love), and there’s a lot of contrast between draco’s relationship with snape and his relationship with his actual father, and i appreciate that a lot.

[beerecordings]

Do you mind explaining a little more of seven seven Henrik’s backstory? I checked the tag, but tumblr only gave me two posts for it -River

yeah, i’d love to! i haven’t talked about him much, this au comes mostly off the top of my head and then occasionally yanks me down into more complex scenarios, which i enjoy a lot.

okay this is long and honestly it’s a horror story so i’m going to put it under a read more. careful it is creepy and there’s a lot of talk of blood and stalking. seriously it’s a little messed up i used to be scared as hell of the Pooka when i was a kid lol. the short story, if you don’t want to read, is that a creature called a Pooka chased him out of Germany and nearly made him a prisoner, but Jackie and Marvin saved him!

but anyway yeah so Henrik is the seventh son of a seventh son, like I’ve mentioned, which pretty much means he A) is bizarrely lucky, impossibly lucky, B) can sense some magical activity and tell when things are supernatural even if they’re disguised to other humans, either seeing their real nature or just being able to tell that the thing in front of him is, on some level, not quite human, and C) a lot of people or creatures who are clued in to the mythological world might want to hurt him :( there are a lot of myths (Henrik doesn’t know how true they are) about how his hair or skin or blood could be used for really powerful spells or luck talismans or how even just keeping him around could increase luck or magical energy. to be fair, this does seem to be true in the households he’s lived in, as his family was really lucky with a lot of stuff when he was with his wife and kids, and recently his friends have been really lucky. he doesn’t consider this real luck at all, though - he’s constantly paranoid that something will come to kill him for a ritual or hurt him to get something out of him or just lock him away as a lucky charm for the rest of his life.

and he has good reason to be paranoid after what happened! A couple years ago, he caught the eye of a Pooka, a nightmare shape-shifter hardly more intelligent than an animal and generally not classified at the level of a human the way a Selkie or higher spirit or satyr or something like that would be. (okay there are some legends that make Pooka clever tricksters who come after bad people and others that say they’re even friendly but in the stories i was always told, Pooka were monsters and you did NOT want to be targeted by one, because they never let their victims go and enjoyed tormenting innocent humans for reasons never explained to me). Henrik still doesn’t know exactly what it wanted with him, because it never spoke. It’s just one night he woke up at the witching hour and sat up in bed beside his wife and outside his window there was a donkey.

but it was horrible, it wasn’t… it wasn’t normal. The Pooka takes a lot of different forms. usually a huge black dog, or a huge black bull, or a huge black hare, or a huge black-haired man, or the donkey. And the donkey, to Henrik, was the worst of them. It would be the body and head of a donkey, but it would stay on its hind legs like a man and wear a coat, and there would be something in his eyes far too clever for a donkey - an ability to watch, an ability to be interested in him, an ability to want to hurt him. That first night he thought it was a sleep paralysis demon. He held stock-still and stared at the blank yellow eyes with the rectangle pupils on either side of its head and wondered why it seemed to stare directly at him, as though hungry. It reached up a hand - grey and covered in fur, but the hands of a man - and pushed open his bedroom window.

His wife woke up and asked him why he was shaking so hard and when he whirled around to look at her, the Pooka disappeared again. He had to stay home from work the next day he was so afraid, and even though he and his wife had been having a lot of problems lately, she pulled him right into her arms and stroked his hair and let him cry because he was just so terrified. she’d never seen him that scared. his vision was telling him that thing was real even though he’d never heard of anything like it and wanted it to be a nightmare.

and the thing was, he was the only one who seemed to be able to see it.

He kept trying to go to work as usual, providing for his kids and looking after his family, but the Pooka began to get closer and closer. he would get on the subway and look up and the Pooka would be a dog sitting across from him, staring at him with donkey’s eyes, bigger than he was, big enough that its head touched the top of the subway and pressed its ears down. or he would be in the middle of an intensive surgery, and suddenly the window would open, and this hare the size of the operating table, with the yellow eyes of the donkey and all its horrible ribs jutting out, would crawl into the room and stare at him while he worked, sweating and trembling so hard he could barely perform, though he sometimes didn’t have a choice depending on how serious the surgery was and how far he was into it, the hare staring at him the whole time and just breathing. or the huge black-haired man, donkey-eyed and twice his size, stepping into his home while his wife and kids were all asleep, stepping over to him, its boots thudding across his dining floor, leaving blood in their wake, its yellow eyes fixed on him as he shook, shattering a coffee mug, trying to make his voice work, to say something like “what are you? what do you want with me?” but it never answered, it never spoke, just stepped closer and closer, fixed on him, staring at him, and then, for the first time, it reached out with its sausage-sized fingers, and it touched his fucking throat, and he felt blood come spilling out of his mouth for reasons he still doesn’t understand, and it swiped up the blood with its thumb and began to drink.

it turned to go after a drop of it, but it wasn’t satisfied.

Henrik, understandably, just about lost his mind with fear after that. he had seen the bull standing over his wife and kids enough times by then that he knew none of them were safe, and besides, no one believed him. his wife thought he was having a nervous breakdown or developing a psychotic illness or something because even though she knew about what he was, the story was just too ridiculous, too insane, and whoever heard of a donkey like that anyway? so he ran away. didn’t even think about it or mean for it, really, didn’t have time to leave them notes, to tell them that he loved them, just… ran and hoped the Pooka would leave them all alone. but it just kept following him. and now he was all along, and it started to get bolder.

it sat beside him on trains destined for countries he picked at random. it swam across the channel with him when he ran to Ireland. in his hotel room, it stood over him, and when he ran to sleep on the streets instead, terrified and exhausted, still it followed him, the donkey towering over him, the yellow eyes fixed on him, and it started to eat his blood whenever it wanted to, touching his throat and making it come welling up and drizzling from his mouth again while he was paralyzed by the strange power come over him, frozen still by the Pooka except for tears running down his face. he tried to run away again, but now, he found, it was no longer just watching, it would grab him and force him to stay in the hotel room, or snatch him off the streets while he searched for any help and drag him to the forest to drain him, and then it began pulling him deeper and deeper into the forest every time and letting him wander for less and less time, and then one day it brought him a big cup of milk in its horrible donkey hands, and he realized, in a moment that nearly killed him, that it was going to make him a prisoner for the rest of his life. but he didn’t know what to do. he’d been hunted for months. he was exhausted and terrified and exhausted of being terrified. there was no way to get free of it. in his dreams every night the Pooka made him see himself sat on the back of the great black bull, clinging on for dear life, blood running from his mouth, unable to throw himself off. it felt like a dream. in retrospect, it’s like it didn’t even happen to him, just like he watched it happen to someone else. it was extremely traumatic for him and he knew he was going to die and gave up on finding help.

until, of course, a little star spirit who loves to explore happened upon him. Marvin had never met a Pooka before and he was very curious when he noticed its spirit!! he went zipping off into the woods all excited and fascinated, but then he came upon the little man curled up beneath an outcropping in a worn doctor’s coat, shaking and passed out, anemic and freezing and very ill with the toll all this took on him. Marvin has rarely been so distressed in all his life. Henrik woke up to a very sweet white cat kissing at him and keeping him warm. he let Henrik hug him and pet him and mumble to him about dying and wanting to go and Germany and his family and blood from his mouth for a long time before he heard the Pooka come and decided this was too much for him to deal with alone. he zipped off to go get Jackie, but not before he saw exactly what the Pooka had been doing to the stranger. Jackie was horrified, of course, and finally here was someone who actually had an idea of what this creature Henrik had been ranting about to everyone he could think of actually was. In the end, it’s his luck that brought Henrik to Ireland, the homeland of the Pooka, where someone might know where it was and where a friendly star might wander onto him. they found Henrik silver spurs like in the stories Jackie had always been told as a kid and the next time he dreamed, Henrik could dig the silver spurs into the side of the Pooka and make it scream, a horrible shrieking noise like a half-dozen animals being slaughtered that has never left Henrik’s head since. The Pooka tried to come back and punish him a couple times, but Jackie and Marvin protected him and eventually it was killed with silver because, while Jackie rarely kills anything at all, it was clear that it wouldn’t stop coming for Henrik, perhaps having developed some kind of an addiction to him.

It took months for Henrik to believe it was really over. Jackie kept him in his home the whole time - apart from a brief sojourn to the hospital once or twice, since Henrik was seriously ill - and nursed him back to health with Marvin’s help. for the first couple weeks, Henrik was just silent, wrapped up in Jackie’s bedsheets staring at the wall, blue with blood loss and illness and a certain sort of grief that will never go away, letting Jackie and Marvin feed him and comfort him. eventually he started to get better, but he never left Jackie’s house. only place he really feels safe now. he has, however, set up a secret little clinic just a few blocks away, where mythological creatures in need of help can come to a doctor who has some understanding of what they are and real expertise, too. Between him, Jackie, and Marvin, they started picking up some pretty expansive knowledge about mythological creatures and he’s learned how to treat so many different things!! It keeps his life really interesting, especially now that he’s developing a national reputation among the other folk. and it’s how Chase and Jamie both came to be a part of their family!

What happened really haunts him, but luckily he has happened upon the best group of friends he could ever ask for and he has a great support system :) so that’s where he’s at!! that was very long but yeh!!!! i am filled with love of him!!

[wetalkinboutbooks]

An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir

Summary: Laia is a slave. Elias is a soldier. Neither is free.

Under the Martial Empire, defiance is met with death. Those who do not vow their blood and bodies to the Emperor risk the execution of their loved ones and the destruction of all they hold dear.

It is in this brutal world, inspired by ancient Rome, that Laia lives with her grandparents and older brother. The family ekes out an existence in the Empire’s impoverished backstreets. They do not challenge the Empire. They’ve seen what happens to those who do.

But when Laia’s brother is arrested for treason, Laia is forced to make a decision. In exchange for help from rebels who promise to rescue her brother, she will risk her life to spy for them from within the Empire’s greatest military academy.

There, Laia meets Elias, the school’s finest soldier—and secretly, its most unwilling. Elias wants only to be free of the tyranny he’s being trained to enforce. He and Laia will soon realize that their destinies are intertwined—and that their choices will change the fate of the Empire itself. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:  

 → Geena:  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

 → Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: We genuinely love this book series so much that our brains recircuit talking about it... all we can do is say if you’re looking for good fantasy with amazing characters and plot... this is it!

Check out the spoiler full review below~

The Good:

→ The Worldbuilding 

Kae: Worldbuilding baybeeeeee. I LOVE IT. Reading this series was such an eye opener for me. It was so far from the usual European magic and broomsticks, that I NEEDED MORE. So I kept reading lol. The worldbuilding in this series is fantastic. There are Efrits, Jinn, magic, and more. This world is set in a Romanish Empire/Pakistani fusion of cultures. You have the Scholars are the lowest caste of people, the Tribes which is basically just a step up from ScholarS, but they are free. Then we have the Plebeians and the Martials. All of these cultures are so well written and developed that you have no trouble differentiating what culture certain characters might belong to just based on their name. Ex: Afyah, Ilyaas = Tribes; Darin, Laia, Izzy= Scholars; Markus=Pleb; Helene, Elias = Martials. All very easy to distinguish, I think. 

We also have some magical beings who are more or less immortal. The Jinn and Efrits, the Nightbringer, Shaeva, the Augurs. They’re all linked to a literal higher power. 

We also have The Waiting Place, which is basically purgatory. But it’s where the dead go to be escorted to the next life. 

Geena: I deserve no rights because I've always loved the whole roman empire history shit, it was always the most interesting shit to learn about so when I read the synopsis like roman inspired… written by a SA woman… i LOST MY SHIT!!! AND LIKE KAE DESCRIBED Sabaa does an amazing job of weaving in magical elements too, and ugh….. Her mind… BUT ALSO WHAT I LOVED IS, something a lot of fantasy authors do is fall into a hole of introducing race politics (aka RACISM) based on skin colour, but Sabaa was like… Wait Ik how to format this

Tired: Fantasy world skin-colour based racism

Wired: Fantasy world-class system based beef 

Sabaa tackles the issue of class systems and so on, and she did it all from scratch and I fucking loved it, it was gratifying to see an author who put so much effort into her worldbuilding. Also… this is v dumb… but the whole detail with sending messages using drums….. I was here for it 

→ Laia and Elias 

Kae: They’re wonderful and need a hug

Geena: Sabaa made an executive decision to write two whole cinnamon rolls and she did! COMPLEX cinnamon rolls that we love from the bottoms of our hearts. We start off with Laia’s perspective as she waits for her brother in her room, but shit hits the fan real quick and the Martial empire’s elite soldiers storm their small home searching for her brother. We learn that her brother, Darin, has got his hands on top secret info and if he doesn’t turn it over they’ll murder everyone. Darin and Laia try to make a run for it but are apprehended by a Mask (Essentially an elite soldier) and they’re forced to watch their grandparents die, Darin tells Laia to run and get out of there and our girl… our girl listens but she has mad ragrets. We follow Laia as she stumbles to the Resistance, an underground Scholar organization that has mad beef with the Martial empire. There she’s tasked with acting as a slave to hands down, the WORST person in the empire, Keris Veturia. All of this in the hopes that the Resistance will help save her brother who’s been imprisoned in the most brutal prison in the empire. 

What I love about Laia is that she’s not perfect, she’s not an amazing fighter and strategist off the bat… she’s an 18/19 year old girl from an oppressed group that has no idea what’s going on and her only skill set is that of a healer. BUT!!! Throughout the book we get to watch Laia make mistakes and learn from them, all of which makes her stronger and smarter. She’s so determined 🥺 even when Keris is carving her initials into Laia’s chest, even when she’s brought to the brink of death, Laia sticks with her goal to find Darin no matter the cost. Anyways.. We stan…. THOUGH TO BE HONEST, when I had started reading it, her first few chapters were frustrating to read because I was like “why would you do that1!!!” but then I set the book down at one moment and thought about how I’d act in the same situation and I was like….. I would’ve fucked up and been killed like 10 pages ago so Laia is doing really well LMAO… and since then I’ve been ready to fight for Laia whenever I see people shit on her.  

Kae: BOOM! So Geena summed up Laia’s character/situation perfectly. WE STAN LAIA OF SERRA. Now, we’re gonna talk about our brooding, handsome boy, Elias aka Ilyaas. Elias, is WILDLY the son of Keris. Keris had a lil boo thang back in the day and got preggers. She did everything she could to terminate the pregnancy, but nothing worked. So she was forced to give birth to him. She fucked off to the desert tribes for a while and learned how to deliver a baby, so she could deliver her own. When the time came, Keris gave birth to Elias. She cared for him for about five minutes before she was like “Yeah, I’m not with the shits. Fuck this kid.” And she left Elias in the desert near the tribes so he could be raised with them. Years later, Elias was chosen by the Martials to attend Blackcliff. Blackcliffe is a school where the Martials train to become the most elite soldiers in this world. Elias trains and trains and is ultimately the top of his class. At a certain age, the students are given silver mask that will eventually completely fuse to their face. Elias hates his mask. He takes it off every night, so it still hasn’t fused to his face like the rest of his class. Elias also hates Blackcliffe and was planning on being a deserter. He had a bag packed and was fully prepared to leave. He was sad to leave his best friend and confidant, Helene, but he was RET TA GO. That is, until he was selected to compete in the Trials that would change his world forever. These trials are to select who is to rule the Empire. He gets this news, when Laia, Keris’s slave is sent to retrieve him. When he meets Laia, he is instantly smitten. He forgets himself, is smiling, shooting the breeze, asking her names, etc. Then realizes, he could get her in trouble just for being nice to her. So they move along. 

Elias is a very sweet boy who just got caught up in a lot of shit with the trails. Every day he spends at Blackcliffe is another day he hates himself. The kid (well he’s like 20), is just straight up MISERABLE. These trials are to rest his mind, power, and strength and all the usual. The last two winners in the end will be the ruler and the Blood Shrike, aka advisor. This is almost a good thing, because Elias is competing with Helene and if they both win, they can both rule. Things are going pretty well for them. They’re winning, it’s looking good. But then, Elias has to go against Helene and they both have to lead a small armada against one another. It’s either kill or be killed. In the end, he has to go against Helene . In the end, he and Helene reluctantly battle it TF OUT. Elias wins because Helene had to forfeit because she was wearing some magical armor that couldn’t be penetrated. Elias feels HORRIBLE. His friends are dead. He ALMOST killed his best friend. He feels ashamed and like a monster. If he hadn’t hated himself before (which he totally die), he SURELY hates himself now. Laia is then sent to his chambers/rooms as his prize. He’s meant to sleep with her, but he hates himself too much and he doesn’t want to take advantage of her. So they just talk and end up sharing a little smoochy smooch. But uh, ya boy is lowkey SPRUNG cause Laia is cute and she got them CHILD BIRTHING HIPS.

Geena: Kae got that *Chef’s kiss* Elias/Ilyaas summary I s2g. I loved Elias because he was honest to god such a refreshing character to read. Like he seems like the typical YA boy → Tall, dark, handsome, and brooding. BUT!!! He’s so different and in the best way possible. FIRST OFF!!! He actually has such a fulfilling childhood (no sad backstory other than learning his mom is an actual piece of shit rip…. More like sad present story). Secondly, he recognizes that what he’s doing is wrong and the way the Martials terrorize Scholar’s is garbage and he wants no part of it. THIRD, he doesn’t like to push his own trauma on those around him? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT WELL, but like he’s such an upstanding guy that treats people well no matter what? Also… he’s lowkey a dumbass… like Kae mentioned when he first met Laia his brain hit a reset and he was essentially like “Me name potato.” We love a hot dumb jock that chugs that respecting women juice. 

Kae: OMG HE’S A TALL, THINNER ALTAIR MINUS DICK JOKES. HE’S NASIR AND ALTAIR IN ONE.  ASDFGHJKL 

Geena: YEEEEAASSSSS (check out that review here). ALSO MY final thots on Laia and Elias that as a duo they’re amazing! Laia gives Elias advice when they’re stuck in his room together 🤪 and he finally chooses that he’ll do what HE wants and not what the empire wants. Elias, in turn, vows to help find and save Darin…. I love them sm they bring the best out of each other 😭 

→ Izzy ft. Helene’s One Singular Good Person Moment

Kae: IZZY! Izzy is the epitome is sugar, spice, and everything nice. Well, minus the spice because she’s really just a sweet little sugar plum. Izzy is also Keris’ slave. She’s around the same age as Laia if not a year or two younger. She’s very quiet and tries to keep to herself. But she finds herself secretly being friends with Laia and helping her when things are the absolute worst. When Keris carved her initials into Laia’s chest, Laia got really sick. Our girl had a crazy fever and Izzy was there to help her through it. Well, she got Elias and he got some herbs and shit, BUT IZZY HELPED. Though Izzy has been a slave her entire life, she has always wanted to be free of Blackcliffe and all of its horrors. So she works with Laia, sneaking out, and sometimes stealing, to make sure that can happen for the both of them. I should also mention that Keris took Izzy’s eye as a child. So Izzy is a small, skinny, fragile, one eyed sweetie. But all of her hardship doesn’t stop her from being such a genuinely good person. 

Geena: Izzy is such a sweet character who tries her best to not be friends with Laia, but people GRAVITATE to Laia (good and bad rip) so she didn’t hold out very long. My favourite scene with them was when they sneak out to participate in some yearly festival that is ~~illegal~~ such a sweet moment I lowkey died.  Moving on to Helene though, the poster child of brainwashed, patriotic, eating-propaganda-for-breakfast, and the second best Mask after Elias. Helene is also shown to have feelings for Elias so when Laia shows up she’s not pleased at all! And Elias himself is confused about his feelings and rip when he was like “Let me try to kiss Helene and see if I like her too” LIKE BOY…. DON’T PLAY HER LIKE THAT PLS…. BUT he doesn’t bc Laia is ATTACKED thus interrupting their moment and Helene is annoyed like “OFC IT’D BE THAT BINCH!!!” like Helene the poor girl was attacked by another walking bag of shit o my god… BUT!!! Near the end of the book when Elias and Laia are escaping Helene is the first one to catch them, but she lets them go! A turning point for her character maybe? Though I know for a fact she didn’t care about Laia, but was doing it bc she still cared for Elias and didn’t want to see him slaughtered no matter how much she’s a ride-or-die for the Martials. 

The Bad :  

→ The Scholar Resistance 

Kae: Is that what they were called? Because they HIGHKEY played tf out of Laia. Alright. The Resistance. They’re mean and I HATE THEM. The Resistance is a rebel movement by a few Scholars who are fighting for the freedom and equality or their people. Laia’s parents were like, the biggest, most badass leaders who have ever lead them. But after they died, things kind of fell apart for The Resistance. Laia, stumbles into their hideout after she runs away from home, after her brother was kidnapped and her grandparents were killed. She begs for them to help her and they’re basically like “Mmmm. No. But you look familiar tho… Who ya momma nem?” and she’s like “lol yeah actually my parents used to run this shit so help me.” And they help her… Kind of… They basically send her ona  dummy mission. A SUICIDE MISSION to be the Commandant’s slave (Keris), to gather information about the Martials and their next plan. In return, they were to help free Darin. Laia was to gather info, then meet with Keenan (a boy in the Resistance) to give over said info every week. Well, they also chose not to tell Laia that she was basically on this mission for nothing. They had no real way to get Darin out of the prison he was being held at. They were really just sending her to die because they KNEW Keris was ruthless and that none of her slaves lasted more than a few months before they were killed or killed themselves. Long story short, FUCK The Resistance. They’re bitches and we HATE THEM. 

Geena: Kae’s right… the Resistance is a bunch of wrinkly ass losers that can kiss our asses. When it was revealed that the Resistance didn’t know SHIT about Darin and were just fucking with Laia…. I was ready to to go down to this place and fight them mySELF. Laia risked EVERYTHING to get them information, she survived for god knows how long under Keris and when she couldn’t come up with something substantial they’d be like “Oh well you’re fucking useless” as if she’s not the daughter of the Lioness aka the most fierce Resistance leader that they ever had. Also, Keenan (....) comes through in the end and offers her a way to break her slave cuffs and escape, but Laia decides that Izzy deserves that more than she does and that Laia would find her own way out… But also imagine the betrayal that Laia felt, the people that were supposed to keep her safe and help her were just screwing her over the whole time. But… despite everything that happens Laia is still her sweet self? Just like Ilyaas… both manage to maintain their humanity no matter the shit thrown at them. 

The Ugly:  

→ Keris’ tiny little mean ass 

Kae: Geena said that shit, baybeeee! Ugh, her MIIIIND. Alright. Now. Let’s talk about “The Bitch of Blackcliffe”. This woman. Evil, vile woman, is basically a 5’3, blonde hair demon. She has absolutely no patience. If you sneeze in the same room as her she’ll probs slit your throat and make a disgusted, disappointed face at you while doing it. She will tolerate NOTHING. You will not speak to her unless spoken to. I mean, this is a woman who wanted to look like so much of a badass that she thought being pregnant and delivering her own baby in a cave alone would make her look weak. I think that was actually pretty tough of her though because whew… I couldn’t do it.

Geena: She got back to her neanderthal roots

Kae: LMAOOO GIRL IM DEAD.But like,  in her youth, Keris went to Blackcliffe. As we heard from her father at some point, Keris was miserable there. She was taunted, picked on, and beat up (mind you she was the only girl at that school so that’s fucked up). She had absolutely no friends and had to fend for herself. So, to make up for it, Keris became ruthless. She became a heartless woman because people made her that way. I hate to be that person, but like, I get it? I can see why someone would become so coldhearted. She did not have a good life. Her mother died when she was young, her father wasn’t there, and she had no friends. I’m not surprised at all that she turned out to be such a horrible person as an adult. No, I’m not giving he an excuse. She had the option to be a good person and she didn’t choose that. But, yeah. That’s my take on her evil ass.  WHEW. OKAY DO YA THANG. 

Geena: TRUE, Kae’s right, Keris had that sad :( childhood :( but at the same time, it’s like… you didn’t have to continue being a dick like people were to you but here we are. Also, she’s genuinely such a terrible person and orchestrates the genocide of the Scholars and is a BITCH about everything. What I realize now is that…. She’s essentially Elias’s foil? Like neither had a solid father figure, both had a tough time growing up (with Elias missing his tribal home and being forced to murder, and Keris being bullied), but Elias does his best to break out of that cycle but Keris is like… *slurps up the shitty Martial mudwater*... she is the bootlicker supreme who finds joy at having her son beheaded (Helene is Bootlicker Lite because at least she let Elias live whereas Keris tried her best to get him killed) BUT JOKES ON THAT BITCH BC ELIAS LIVES!!!!  Elias would send Keris a crude drawing of himself like “I lived bitch!” 

Anyways, she’s an extremely well-written villain else we wouldn’t hate her so much lmao…

Conclusion 

Kae: In conclusion, we fuck with it. I loved this series so much, I read the first three books in one week and was heartbroken to find out that the fourth book wasn’t out yet. YA GIRL IS ATTACHED TO THESE CHARACTERS, OKAY!???? An Ember in the Ashes is a wonderful, extremely well written book. I think Sabaa is a literal genuis. This book made me fall in love with reading all over again. I think the characters are so individually different, it’s amazing. They are well distinguished and independent of each other. They are strong and sweet and funny and evil. Just all around AMAZING as well as the folklore, stories, and cultures that are presented to the audience. 

Geena: yyyeeeaaaass the care that Sabaa Tahir put into this book, ranging from how each character is written to the intricate worldbuilding got a bitch tearing up, BECAUSE ONE DAY I WISH TO WRITE THIS WELL!! An Ember in the Ashes draws you in from the first page, and I litcherally say this for every book we’ve reviewed but there’s NEVER a dull moment (I need a new phrase lmao) you are constantly stressed reading this book (in a good way) and there’s like 2 more books after… and the last book in the series on the way. BLEASE READ Ember, because Kae and I have spent our whole time talking SCREECHING about this book. THINKING ABOUT IT, WITHOUT EMBER WE WOULDN’T HAVE THIS BLOG LMAOOO  

Kae: OKAY BUT LIKE. LITERALLY. WE STARTED TALKING AND BECAME REAL GOOD FRIENDS BECAUSE OF THIS BOOK. LIKE, WITHOUT EMBER, THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED. SO THANKS, SABAA. 

Geena: WE LOVE YOU, SABAA!!

Kae: And I guess that concludes today’s book rant/review! I hope you all enjoy our ramblings and more! 

[robbyrobinson]

Stephen King Villains: Most Evil to Least Evil

Stephen King is considered the master of horror best known for his prolific writing career that in itself takes place in a multiverse of sorts. Besides monsters and supernatural beings, there are also very, very evil humans that also antagonize the protagonists. 

Most Evil

Most Evil would go to Randall Flagg. He is probably the closest thing to the Devil that exists in King's works, though Nyarlathotep is also said to be one of his many titles. He appears in several of King's novels sowing chaos wherever possible. He was apart of many violent tragedies such as race riots, lynchings, you name them. In The Stand, he sets himself up as some sort of god for those who also had penchants for violence. In The Dark Tower series, he works alongside the Crimson King and gets into even more acts like destroying a city and driving a woman insane by having a dead man recount to her what he had seen in the afterlife. Ultimately, his plan is to topple the Dark Tower itself which would spell destruction for the multiverse. 

 Bronze goes to It. An ancient, primordial evil, It was originally from the Macroverse before crash landing to the area that would eventually become Derry, Maine where it establishes a cycle of awakening every 27 years to kill and devour Derry's children even though it is implicated that It doesn't need to consume the flesh of its prey as it could live off their fear alone. But it is their fear that makes their meat tastier to It. It is an egotistical, narcissistic being who views itself as being superior above humans and its archenemy Maturin the Turtle. It is first defeated by the Losers Club back in the 1950s after it had killed the young brother of Bill Denbrough only to return 27 years later to settle the score.

Silver...it's a tough one, but I ultimately decided that William Wharton from The Green Mile earns this spot. He is not the most powerful being in the books nor is he anywhere close to the first two's level. Simply put, he is a disgusting piece of human garbage that should've gotten fried to death in the electric chair for what he had done. He is first taken to the Mile after killing two people, one of which was a pregnant woman. When he arrives, he pretends to be in a near-drunken state only to then attempt to strangle one of the wardens. That in itself is bad, but what pushes him further is the fact that he was the one who raped and killed those two girls that John Coffey is being sentenced to death over. He used the sisters' love for each other to coerce them not to scream lest he kill one of them before leading them out of their house.

Patrick Hockstetter. A pure solipsistic psychopath, Patrick was a member of Henry Bowers's gang but he was especially nasty. He took perverse delight at killing animals but that is not his main claim to infamy. As a solipsist, he believes that no one exists aside from himself...essentially the world revolved around him. When he learned that his mother had given birth, Patrick felt threatened. So much so, he smothered the baby to death with a pillow.

Norman Daniels, the main antagonist of Rose Madder. A corrupt cop, he domestically abuses his wife Rose and in one instance sexually assaulted her and later caused her to suffer a miscarriage. When she leaves him, Norman pursues her, murdering and torturing those in his way his preferred method being biting them to death. 

Leland Gaunt of Needful Things sets up a novelty shop in Castle Rock where he has his victim's greatest desires in stock, but they had to pay a sum and additionally stage a prank. A magical charm that drives the residents to madness one instance being when two women killed themselves in a madness-inducing stupor leading to a young boy killing himself. 

Rose the Hat. A little lower on the list. A True Knot (quasi-immortal vampiric beings), she feeds on steam, as in the dying breath of children who have "the Shining." This is of course done through torturing children to death. Despite committing serial murders, plausibly in the hundreds depending on how long she and her clan were operating, she nevertheless greatly cares for her fellow True Knots and becomes increasingly incensed by Danny Torrance and Abra Stone killing them.

Going to King's first novel Carrie, we have several trash. Chris Hargensen bullies Carrie White relentlessly climaxing in her staging a terrible prank where she drops a bucket full of pig's blood on Carrie's head at the prom after forging fake votes for Carrie. Following her is Margaret White , Carrie's mother. An insane religious zealot, she emotionally and psychologically abuses her daughter as she saw it as her fault that Carrie received telekinetic powers because of her perceived mistake. After the massacre, Margaret attempts to kill Carrie.

The Overlook Hotel. At first it seems odd that I would include what is basically an inanimate object. But in the book The Shining, it is made apparent that the hotel is alive and is greatly evil. It drives those who visit it to madness ultimately resulting in them killing their families and then themselves. Once it completely possesses Jack Torrance, it fully has its malevolent intentions out in the open. 

The Shawshank Redemption. Kind of more leaning towards the film adaptation, but here goes: Samuel Norton is the warden of the Shawshank prison. Initially coming off as a kind man with that rich Southern Christian rhetoric, Norton is truly a greedy man ruling Shawshank with an iron fist allowing rapes and other evils to happen on his grounds. He uses the prisoners for cheap labor in a money laundering scheme which he forces Andy to assist him with. Unlike in the book, when Tommy has information proving Andy's innocence, Norton sends for Captain Byron T. Hadley to kill Tommy. 

Next would be Bogs Diamond. The leader of a group of men called The Sisters, he enjoys violently raping his victims one of his favorite being Andy. But it isn't because he's gay, but more because he derives disgusting glee from raping them when they were at their lowest state. 

Henry Bowers, the secondary antagonist of It, is a racist, Anti-Semitic, misogynistic, fat-shaming lunatic who graduates to murdering his own father before deciding to go to kill the Losers Club when they enter the sewer system to face off against It/Pennywise. But it is shown that his father was abusive and he likely learned a lot of his prejudices from him. But he also stands as a trope of King's where you have insane bullies.

Lastly, we get to Percy Wetmore the secondary antagonist of The Green Mile. Somehow coming off as more reprehensible than the real villain of the book, Wetmore is a low-functioning sociopath who primarily came to the Cold Mountain Penitentiary to watch the death row inmates die. 

Especially despising Delacroix, he kills Mr. Jingles by stepping on him out of spite, and he later deliberately leaves the sponge dry leading to Delacroix's excruciatingly botched, prolonged execution where he literally cooks in Old Sparky. He's kind of lower on the list mostly because of his film counterpart looking horrified. Something tells me that he probably was only thinking that by not wetting the sponge it would give Delacroix a little more pain, but he wasn't anticipating for the events to ensue the way they did. Though him being forced to watch is cathartic as was what became of him in the ending.

Least Evil

Cujo takes the first spot. All he wanted was to be a good boy, but all that changed when he was bitten by a rabid bat. Now he kills those that he miscontrues as being responsible for his pain. 

Carrie White was the protagonist of Stephen King's first book. Born with telekinetic powers, Carrie was bullied by her peers; mistreated by her fundamentalist mother...ultimately she was driven insane when that horrible prank at the prom befell her. She committed horrible acts, but ultimately, it is understandable. It was only a matter of time for her to snap. 

Jack Torrance: While he tries to kill his wife and son, part of it largely falls on the Overlook corrupting him. He was abused by his father ultimately becoming an alcoholic who unwittingly dislocated Danny's arm. At the least before the Overlook's destruction he had a moment of clarity. 

Christine: A sapient possessed 1958 Plymouth Fury vintage vehicle who acts like a envious girlfriend when it comes to its owners. Worse, it is fully able of numping people off if need be.

The Wendigo: In Pet Sematary, it is a wendigo that is responsible for the cursed grounds that whatever was buried in its soils, an evil, undead version arises. This happens to Church the cat and especially to Gage. However, the Wendigo is presented more as a force of nature than truly evil.

Annie Wilkes: After saving Paul, it seems at first Annie was a kind woman...at least until she found out that Paul killed off her favorite character and becomes hellbent on forcing him to rewrite the ending where she was alive again. She holds him hostage and even breaks his legs as punishment (though it's much worse in the novel). Worse, it is revealed that Annie is a serial killer with a body count in potentially the 70s with multiple infants dying under mysterious circumstances while under her care. More patients end up dying but they were mostly ignored as the patients were already deathly sick prior. But with all that being said, Annie does have severe mental issues to the point where she is unable to discern reality from fiction. 

[sillylittlewritings0]

Leaving Normal

Bucky Barnes x reader

• Peter Quil x reader (platonic)

-ENDGAME SPOILERS

-Go no further if you have not seen Endgame and don’t want it to be spoiled

Warnings: Angst but only for a second/ mentions of sex and kind of smutty but nothing R rated

Y/n lost Bucky in the snap, and during the final battle, finally got him back by her side. Now they are trying to pick up the pieces of the aftermath, together.

———————————————————————

*flashback*

Struggling to get back up after being knocked down countless times by the Titan, you look up toward Steve. His eyes are fierce, yet fearful at the same time. He straps on his broken shield, a bad omen it seemed, and held his hand out for me to take. You grasped his hand as he pulled you up to your feet. The two of you looked at each other, and nodded. Steve was right, this was the fight of your lives, and with Thanos’s approaching army, it seemed like it would be your last. You both knew going in to this, the odds would be against your side, heavily. One thing for certain, is if you couldn’t protect the Earth and its people, you will damn sure avenge it. You readied your weapons and held a fighting stance to get ready to attack. As you did, you said what you thought would be your final thoughts. ‘Bucky, I love you. See you soon.’

“Wait!” Steve held you back, as he held his communications closely to his ear. Confused, you were about to ask him what the hell was going on, when T’Challa and Shuri appeared out of an orange portal, along with Okoye by their side. With them came all of the Wakandan tribes and their armies, emerging and ready to fight. You were in such disbelief and awe, as more and more orange portals opened up all around us, as everyone we thought were dead came back to us, and more we did not know yet. Tears in your eyes and a swelling in your heart as you saw all your family, old friends and new, surround us and ready to stand together. You suddenly remembered Bucky, and froze. Does this mean all who disappeared have returned?

You turned around and ran, scanning the large crowd looking for him. As you pushed yourself past the others, you ran into Wanda.

“Oh Wanda, you’re back!” you said overjoyed and wrapped her into a tight hug.

She smiled and returned my hug back, “I missed you so much. We’ll have to catch up later, Thanos has something to pay for” she let you go, and let her powers take over. But not before she turned around to look at you and say, “he’s back a little farther.”

You thanked her, and continued your search. Finally, you stumbled upon him, his back toward you, as you gazed upon his beautiful brown long locks. He had just taken down a monster from Thanos’s army, and turned around as soon as you walked up beside him. You both had about 7 feet of distance between you, as you stared at him, in disbelief. He finally took a step forward.

“Ya gonna come give me some love, or just keep standin there, doll?”He said smirking.

You ran up and jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his torso, and sobbed.

“Hey there, sweet girl. I’m back.” Bucky said, as he soothingly stroked your hair and kissed the side of your head.

You continued bawling, “oh god, I missed you so much, Buck. You have no idea how long it’s been-I-I love you so much.”

He started tearing up, and smiled. “I take it that it was longer for you than me, but anytime apart from you is too damn long. I love you too doll, thanks for fighting for me and the rest of us.”

You smiled at him and kissed the hand he was cradling your face in. “I never gave up, I’ll always fight for you and be right here by your side.”

He pulled you in for a hug, and then held your face closer to finally press his lips against yours. Five years. It had been five years since you felt his soft lips on yours once again. You wanted to cry again, and savor the moment, but soon remembered the battle still taking place.

You put our reunion on pause, and took on the rest of the attack side by side, like you were always meant to be.

*Shortly after the battle*

You wiped away all the grime, blood, dirt, and fresh tears away from my face. You couldn’t bear to see Peter and Piper mourning over the death of Tony. You felt your own face wet with tears over the man who saved the universe. Tony has always been there for everyone, and you knew all he ever wanted to do was protect all the people he loved and the everyone else on Earth. It broke you, knowing that he left the love of his life, and little girl behind. He died a hero, no less, but the loss was greater than any other. You sat down on the ruins, Bucky wrapping his arms around me as you cried.

He kissed your cheek and squeezed you tight. “I’m so sorry, y/n. All of you, that didn’t give up hope, sacrificed, and did your part to save us and the whole goddamn universe, you’re the true heroes. That sure as hell includes Stark.”

You wiped my tears, and sniffed. “You gave me a reason to fight for the good of all. We all did, Buck. It just breaks my heart that Tony had to give up his reasons to win the fight. The world and team is never going to be the same without him.” You quietly cried more as he continued to hold me.

All you wanted to do was stay wrapped up in his arms, and never leave again. Hold him close, and whisper how much he means to you, in case he disappears again. But as we held each other, you looked up and saw Quill standing behind you and Bucky. You looked up toward Bucky. “Hey, I’ll be right back. I have an old friend I need to catch up with.” He gave a small smile, nodded, and gave you one last quick peck on the lips. You stood up and walked over to Quill.

You both embraced each other for a second before telling one another your sides of where you were and what happened to you in the snap. He informed you that he was a victim to it, alongside Drax and Mantis. You felt tears well into my eyes as he described what became of Gamora. You knew what they meant to each other, and it broke your heart to know he lost someone he loved again. You informed him of the five years it took to finally get everything in motion for the plan to work, and how risky it was going back in time to retrieve the stones.

“You’re a real life saver, you know that? I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you and your fellow teammates, what’s it called, Avengers? That what that guy in the getup called it?” Quill said jokingly.

You smirked at his ability to still find humor in horrible situations. “Yea, we’re the Avengers. It was a team effort, thank you for dropping in at the right moment, I literally thought I was going to die. As far as I’m concerned, we’re all Avengers now” you said nudging his shoulder lightly.

He shook his head in approval, “Hmm, that means I can add Avenger alongside Guardian of the Galaxy to my resume now” Quill said as he chuckled. But you sensed a heavy sadness weighing in on him.

You looked him up and down. “What’s going on with you, Quill?”

He paused for a moment, frowned and said, “Technically, Gamora is alive now but...”

You closed your eyes and nodded. The inter crossing of different timelines in quantum physics causes different timelines to be able to meet. You sighed and walked closer to him, “she’s not your Gamora, is she?”

Quill started to tear up. “She doesn’t know who I am, y/n. All those memories and moments we shared, gone. I thought if there was ever a chance to win this battle that I might somehow find her again, but... I still lost her.”

“I’m so sorry Quill” You embraced him into a hug.“But you still have a chance. She can be the Gamora you once knew, this one just hasn’t met you yet. In a way, you get to fall in love all over again.” You mentioned the silver lining in it.

He scoffed, “yea cause I’m sure after hitting me in the nuts, she’s totally ready for all my boyish charm and flirting.”

“Come on, no one can resist the charms of the likes of Peter Quill” You said playfully pushing him.

He smiled sadly, “yea, I’m sure you’re right. Just sucks all those moments are gone and forgotten.”

You pursed your lips, tears sliding down your face. “I understand, Peter. We all lost important people to too. I’m not sure how I can even go on without Natasha and Tony. She is one of the biggest reasons we were able to win, and we were so close. Now that she’s gone I... I feel so lost. And Tony, he had so much on the line but he still did it. We were all a big family, and now it will never be the same as it was before.”

Quill wrapped you into a long hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I fought alongside Tony when we tried taking down Thanos on Titan. He was so brave and brilliant, I am proud to have known and fought along side that guy, not once but twice.”

You and Quill stood side by side, watching all the survivors and studied the ruins from the fight. As I stood by Quill, you looked over to Bucky, who was talking to Steve and Sam. He gave you a smile, and gazed back at you with a heartfelt look. Quill noticed this look you two shared with one another.

“Anyone you want to introduce to me?” Quill said smirking.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “Yea of course, but later. I think we all need some time to adjust for a second.”

*Present*

You began to stir as you start to wake up. Glancing at the clock, it read 6:17 am. This is about the same time you keep waking up for the past few weeks. Mostly to call Quill, and due to time in space being so wacky, of course it was ass early on your end. You two agreed to call and video chat at least once a week. Ever since the battle, you sensed such sadness in him. You knew that you got lucky with getting your loved ones back, but still, you knew not everyone else did. Quill being one of them. The time with the Guardians were some of the best times in your life. They were the ones to bring you to Earth and find the Avengers, where you met your family, and of course, Bucky. You got a lot to thank them for. Of course you got especially close with Quill, due to your shared love of old music. You felt so awful for him since the last stand against Thanos and losing Gamora again, since you saw the beginnings of the love between Quill and Gamora blossom. You felt lucky to have witnessed the loving banter between them all, you could tell they were a family. So you know how much the snap must have scarred them. Quill has lost so much, they all have. The least you can do, is to be there as an old friend.

Before you got up, you glance down at the warm body in the bed next to you. Bucky. Your Bucky, sleeping peacefully. His long gorgeous hair strewn about on his pillow, with his head turned facing you as he snores quietly. The first week after the battle, it felt so strange. Not because everyone came back from the dead, but because things are so different now. That first week felt like being in a sort of strange limbo. But after that first week of adjusting, and finding a new place for an Avengers facility, things slowly got back to some kind of normal. Normal being that you and Buck could not keep your hands off each other. Five years is a long time to be without the love of your life. Everyone finally had to give you two an entire wing floor to ourselves because they kept walking in on both of you celebrating victory, well... everywhere and anywhere. It was so good to have him back to yourself. Feel his touches and kisses, his skin against yours, and to know that he is really and truly back. That it isn’t a sad nightmare, from the years before. You kiss his head softly, and rise from the bed.

You set up the communications device for a video call in the office room of our wing, and dial Quill’s current coordinates. Finally getting an answer the 3rd ring, and it was Rocket.

“Hey! Whattya know, it’s little Y/N! Looking for doofus?” He asked. You laugh and shake your head, “Hey Rocket, it’s great to see you too! Yea I am, is he in?”

“Is that Y/N? I’m here! I’m coming” You hear the voice of Quill in the background alongside loud crashes of him tripping over things. You say a quick hello to the rest of the gang, Mantis, Drax, Groot, Nebula, and the newest edition of Thor. It was great to see him taking the next step after the final battle. Finally, Quill appeared on screen.

“Bout time! Been waiting for awhile now for this call” Quill teasingly said. You scoff playfully, “My bad Pete, time is a little different here when you’re light years away.”

He laughed, and settled in a seat comfortably. “Alright kiddo, I finally got some down time. Shoot!” 

You rolled your eyes at his nickname. “You know we’re only a year apart right? Whatever, let’s get down to serious business!” you say clasping your hands together. Pulling out your phone, you make sure it connects to the blue tooth speaker and pull up a playlist. “Now, I know your fondness and love for 70′s music,” you begin. 

“A bond we both share” Quill said smugly. 

“Right, but I think it’s high and time to get a little caught up, because man, are you missing out on some underrated 80′s gems” you say, as the shuffled playlist started the song, Out of Touch by Hall & Oates. 

Peter began nodding his head, enjoying the beat and rhythm of the tune. Which soon turned into dancing, that you soon find yourself joining in with him. It was nice, to be able to just catch up and have fun and enjoyment with an old and longtime friend. It was a process, the start of finding the way back to normal. With Tony’s death and Steve’s retirement, normal seemed like such a long shot feeling that would never return. But it’s moments like these with Quill that help coax normal back into your life, and everyone else’s. 

So it became routine. At least once a week, or sometimes once every two weeks with Quill’s schedule as a Guardian, you would try to find time for these moments. Music moments for musical buddies, as he dubbed it. Even going as far to make Quill a send able playlist of the new music you are showing him. It truly was therapeutic for the both of you. Quill is truly one of your dearest friends, he means the world to you. You couldn’t wait for the right day to finally introduce him to Bucky.

*2 months later* 

Three weeks had passed since Quill was able to call. It worried you initially, but you were a part of the Guardians of the Galaxy for a brief moment. so you knew there was nothing they couldn’t handle. Still, you couldn’t help but worry for old friends. 

As you had them on your mind, you were also trying to relax on the couch with Bucky, for some quality time. The two of you were cuddled into each other, on the comfy couch, enjoying a movie together. There was finally a routine and normalcy between the two of you. In the first few weeks, it was the fresh shock of him coming back to you, which was only hours of rough and raw sex. Just to feel, actually feel him and knowing he was here with you again. After the shock wore off, it was the reality that settled in. Bucky was gone for five years. You had aged five years ahead of him while he was gone. You had to live for five years in a world without him. 

He notices your furrowed brow, and nudges you. “What’s troubling that beautiful mind of yours, darlin’?”

You jokingly frown and inform him. “Just thinking about how I actually aged and got super old as you were gone.”

Bucky gave his hearty laugh and kisses my hair. “Y/N, doll, I hope you know your five years still don’t got nothing on me.”

“Yea, but you still got your looks, Sargent.” You grumble. 

“Oh doll, you don’t look a day over 50″ he says with a sly grin. 

You softly and playfully smack his arm. He kisses your lips in return, and what starts as a small peck, deepens quickly. You twist your fingers into his long brown locks, as he pulls you onto his lap, while slipping his tongue in my mouth, which you gratefully grant him access to. You give a small hum of pleasure, as he begins to grind you down onto his crotch. He gives a small moan, and puts his hands on your hips to deepen his thrusts. The hot and heavy makeout session was about to escalate further, when the communication beacon signal turned on. Quill was finally calling. 

“God, as much as I want this to continue, you said, trying to not give in to the kissing and sucking Bucky was doing on your neck, do you mind if we take a 20 minute break? I gotta call to take.” 

Bucky smiles a devious smile. “Are you sure you want to postpone this? You can always call this Quail person back” he said as he continues to grind on my clothed groin. 

You frown at his hostility. He knows Quill’s name, you mentioned him before. “First of all, his name is Peter Quill, and second of all, it will just be 20 minutes tops, I swear. When I come back, I swear I will make it worth your while” You promise and wink at him before getting up from his lap. 

Bucky sighs in annoyance as you get up to answer Quill’s call. “Always run to that boyfriend’s beck and call, s’ept mine” he mumbles sourly. 

You stop in your tracks, before turning around. “What? Buck, you can’t be serious.”

He crosses his arms. “Just seems like he can get your time of day whenever he wants, and more often than not, I am put on the back burner for him.” 

Sighing, you turn to walk toward the beacon and shut the signal off. You would have to call Quill back later. After the signal turned off, you go to sit back on the couch with Bucky. 

“It really sounds like we need to talk. Do you want to go first? Tell me what’s been going on in your beautiful mind, Buck.” 

He gave a half grin, and puts his hand on your thigh. “Look Y/N, the last thing I want to be is controlling of you. Hell, I’d know you’d kick my ass if I tried to dictate who you can and can not talk to, man or woman. But this Quill guy, I barley know em’. Fought alongside the guy and I barley know him. But all the calls, the dancing and laughing, I know you know him well. I guess I just can’t help but feel jealous is all.” 

You sympathetically gaze at him, and put your hand on his that rested on your thigh. “That’s where my fault in this comes in. I should have told you Bucky, my history with Quill goes a long way back. Now, I just need you to listen for this part, can you do that for me please?” 

Bucky nodded and lovingly squeezes your thigh.

You turn to him and began your story. “You know how I mentioned I am originally from Earth, but lived in space with Quill, for the majority of my life?”

“Yes, of course. With the blue guy, and the thieven’ with Quill and all of em’.  You don’t forget a beautiful gal being from space, kind of” he says jokingly. 

You laugh and continue. “ The blue guy is Yondu, and yes, well, I also knew Quill here on Earth too. Our mothers were best friends, and in turn we became best friends too. I was born the year right after him, and then we were pretty much inseparable. He leaned on me a lot when his mom started to get sick, and I have always been there for him, and he has for me too. Then the night she died, I was there with him. I ran after him when he ran away, and that was when the both of us were abducted from our home here on Earth. Thus started our new lives together as thieves with the Ravengers. Soon after breaking from them and finding our other friends, Drax, Gamora, Rocket, Groot, Mantis, and Nebula, we formed our little outcast family of the guardians of the galaxy. Then you know the rest, I got separated in battle from them, and found myself here on Earth where I found Steve and The Avengers, which during that time was when he and Tony were fighting. Then that’s about where we first met, as you know.” 

Bucky looks you intensely in the eyes. “I didn’t know you two were childhood friends, I’m so sorry doll. I didn’t mean to be such a jackass.”

You kiss his cheek, and stroke his hair. “It’s okay Buck, I should have told you, But you also need to come to me if you’re ever feeling jealous or unsure, You can come to me for anything.” 

“Yes doll, of course” Bucky says. 

“The reason why I am so adamant on having these calls with Quill when I can, is because not only do I miss him and value the normalcy of our friendships in the aftermath of the battle, but because he lost someone he loved, except he can’t get her back.” You sadly remark. 

“What do you mean he can’t get her back? I thought the snap brought everyone bac-” Bucky began, but you cut him off. 

“Quill’s girl, Gamora, she was murdered by Thanos, not dusted. The way he killed her, it was irreversible. But with the time travel we did to bring everyone back, that time’s Gamora IS still alive, but she is not the Gamora we knew. All the memories she shared with Quill, with me, and the rest of them, they never happened. This Gamora doesn't know us, and I’m not sure if she wants to.”

You begin to tear up. “I watched them fall in love, Buck. I watched them fall for each other more and more each day. I saw as their stubborn big ego selves be too scared and unsure of their love for one another, and neither one of them admitting it till it was too late. We got lucky, Buck. We got our happy ending, and if Quill can’t find a way back to his, then maybe all the lame dancing and catching up with him can substitute as his till he finds what he needs.”

Bucky pulls me into a tight hug. “No need to explain anymore doll, I understand. I know the importance of being there for a true friend. Quill isn’t just your friend Y/N, he is your family. The same way Steve and Sam are mine. You’re right, we both did get so lucky in the end. I’m going to start appreciatin it more. I love you, darlin’.”

You smile into his hug. “I love you too, James.”

As you both stay there, and hold one another, the beacon begins to ring again. 

Bucky smiles at me. “I’ll let you get to it. Don’t leave him waitin too much longer.”

An idea pops into your head, before you go to answer it. “Say Buck, why don’t you come along? I think it’s high time my best guy meets one of the most important people in my life.”

He nods and smiles. “I would be honored, doll.” 

You hold out your hand to him, and he takes it as you two make your way to the communication device. You finally pick up on the 4th ring.

“Hey! There you are! You had me worried there for a second. I’m sorry I took awhile to call, its been a crazy three weeks and I can’t wait to tell you all about it- oh! Is this him?” Quill rambles on before noticing Bucky next to you. 

You giggle, and intertwine your fingers with Bucky’s. “Yea, Pete. This is my guy, and I think now is the right time for you two to finally meet.”

“About time Y/N! She goes on and on about you all the time, but here we are finally face to face, well as close as we can. Peter Quill is the name, or Star-lord to some, but nice to meet you, man” he introduces himself to Bucky.

You groan at his excessive need to be called his superhero name, and Bucky laughs. “James Buchanan Barnes, Mr. Quill. You can call me, Bucky” he introduced himself to Quill. 

“Oh c’mon now, Quill is fine. Anything really, for taking good care of my dear and oldest friend here. Emphasis on the old part” Peter joked. 

“Quill!” you yell. 

Bucky gives a deep laugh. “Same to you Quill, thank you for taking care of her for so long. I appreciate everything you have done for her.”

Quill smiles at the both of you. “I mean yea sure, she’s family to me and all of us. It’s nice to see she still has a great family down there on Earth, you two look really good together.”

You notice that he sadly looks down at your intertwined fingers, and realize he was probably thinking of Gamora.

Bucky took notice of his sad mood, and put the effort to change the subject. “So, now that we’ve met officially, got any embarrassing stories about Y/N and her days in space?” 

Quill lightens up at this prospect. “Oh man where do I begin! Maybe all the times she nearly got kidnapped during our days still as Ravengers, or how she threw a frickin hairbrush at an intergalactic giant alien monster- or hey, does she ever happen to still wear those Pac-Man feetie pajamas? I swear she wore them well after childhood.”

“Quill, I swear I’ll kill you!” you jokingly yell, as Bucky laughs hard at our bickering. As embarrassing as it was, you still feel your heart swell at the prospect of two of the people you care most for in this world finally met and got along. Normal was finally returning.  

     “       

[mysmedrabbles]

Broken - [Yoongi x BPD!Reader]

requested: by @edgythiccboi (request is pictured above)

a/n: long overdue and with about the most rough drafts ive ever written for something, its finally here! i hope you enjoy and it takes your mind off of some of the hurt from your past and present. know that the whole of the bpd/ptsd community knows what you're going through and supports you (even though we're all just a bunch of bamboozled and 3dgy kids)

warnings: quite realistic description of a bpd episode, tiny self harm mention, some splitting, self deprecation (it ends in fluff i promise)

-ghost mod alex

-hollowed lungs took struggling breaths in the condensed room, steam and water droplets covering every surface like a disease, a disease from which you could not get away from. you sat on the edge of the bathtub, wheezing into seemingly nothing, chest heaving as you strained against invisible bonds, tying you to the tub, restraining you in your own mind, a prisoner of war against your past.

-a familiar pounding in your head clouded your thoughts, and you could feel yourself spiraling through various personas, each personality you'd tailored for everyone in your life; it hurt too much, it felt like you were being pulled in a hundred different directions.

-who were you today? the bubbly friendly girl in the back of the class? the dark, almost suspiciously angry person, hiding in the shadows? maybe just a quick witted friend, always there with a funny rebuttal, making everyone laugh but yourself. what was the point of "being yourself," and "living life," when you didn't even know who that person was? that person you could have grown into died that day, the day,,, the day it happened. 

-you'd been lucky enough to have survived, to live to today, but what was the point of it all really? 

-you stared at your shaking hands, and for a second you see blood, draining you of your life as all you can do is sit there and watch; but you blink and its gone, only a thin white line serving as a memory. 

-you'd promised him you'd never hurt yourself again, and a part of you knew that you should call to him, for he was only in the other room, no doubt writing another extraordinary song. he was always so smart, so sure of himself and an absolute genius. it wasn't an exaggeration when people complimented him on his music, it came naturally to him, he had a passion and he pursued it. 

-unlike you.

-who were you but a stain on his life? he'd be better off without you anyway. 

-a wave of rage came over you, and all you could see was red, red red red. How dare he not notice how in pain you were, not be here to comfort you and take care? Did he not care? was it all just a joke to him? did he even...did he even love you?

-you felt yourself spiraling further, physically bending over to the point of pain, the muscles in your lower back stretched from the lack of support. tears had started to pool in your open hands, and staring at them blankly you were only vaguely aware of choked sobs reaching out the doorway, small whimpers mixed in with cries as you tried to feel anything beside the pain.

-a small knock distracts you, cautious and questioning, and you know immediately that its yoongi. yoongi your sweet angel, the one who always made you laugh when you were feeling down, played card games with you when you needed a distraction, sung to you when you couldn't sleep, kissed your tears away no matter how many times they fell. you didn't say anything, rather let him open the door himself to see you sitting there hunched over, looking up at him with puffy eyes. 

-he assessed the damage first, scanning the bathroom for anything sharp, any blood or a wad of suspiciously thick toilet paper shoved forcibly into the trash can. upon seeing nothing of the sort his eyes soften, seeing you in your fragile state. he never thought anything less of you, in fact he always thought you were so brave to be alive, to still be fighting after all you'd been through. you were a pair of survivors, people who bonded not only over trivial things like favourite band and your shared humor, but the experiences the two of you had gone through added an extra layer of understanding to the relationship.

-he sits next to you quietly, letting you take a breath before speaking, his voice softer than usual, and yet still with edges of his usual roughness, but he's kind. He looks at you, and you can tell it's taking him all of his energy to not to reach to your face, wiping away your tears and holding you in a tight embrace. he knew the drill, and his main priority was your comfort. 

- "can I hug you?" 

-it's a small thing, but it's enough to bring you back to tears as you nod shyly, too afraid to speak. you close your eyes and you can feel his arms wrap around you, holding you securely close to his chest, steady rhythm of his heart beating against your own chest like a metronome. steady, present, there. he's whispering tiny comforts to you, affirmations of his love and your worth, that everything was going to be okay. you lean into his touch, closing your eyes hesitantly as your head falls on his shoulder, hiding in the crook of his neck. 

-he smells fresh, faint smell of laundry detergent intermingled with his pine shampoo, and something else; he smells like home, the smooth cotton of his plain black shirt on his thin frame under your fingers just adding to the notion of comfort, and your own sobs cant help but die down, calming under his soothing presence. you start registering his voice, his hand tracing soothing circles on your upper back.

- "it's okay," you hear him say, "you're going to be okay. it's over now baby, nothing can hurt you.. i love you so much... i wont let anything bad happen to you.. it's okay... you're going to be okay..."

-his voice drills a hole in your chest, striking a cord and unable to get it out as you struggle to catch your breath. He pulls away, making sure you see where his hands are clearly before cupping your cheeks, stroking away any stray tears. he examines your face soundlessly, giving you a chance to speak if you so choose. you study him right back; he looks tired, like he hadn't slept in a while, soft hair a very definitely natural shade of silver. He saw you revisiting the dark circles under his eyes with your own, and as if reading your thoughts he replies, "work has been a bit long, nothing else princess."

-you open your mouth to make a counterclaim, but he cuts you off gently, "I promise," he says, and yet you struggle to believe him.

-a small pause settles over the two of you, and you could see his sincerity in his words, mirrored by the gaze that falls upon you. sweet kind yoongi with his easily irritable self and cutting humor, his stoic side and his adorable smile which you swear could light rooms.

-did you really deserve him? how could someone as amazing as him be in love with someone like you? Even as you began to speak, you could already feel the guilt washing over you, shame at the notion of manipulation as you asked, 

-“Why do you love me?”

-yoongi smiles, just the tiniest bit as he pulls you closer to him, kissing your forehead, taking your hand in his before responding, “why do i love you? ah well thats a complicated question with too many answers,” he looks at you, hoping to notice a change in your expression, but seeing no results he presses on, “I love you because you’re you, because you get up every morning and face the world even though its told you repeatedly to stand down,” he brushes a stray hair behind your ear as he goes on, carefully as to not set you off in some way, “I love you because even though you’re characterized by a mental illness thats seen as horrible and dark you constantly show up with your brightest smile and kindness in hand, and theres never been a day where being by your side hasn’t been a gift. I love you because of the way you’re attentive, how kind you are to complete strangers, your smile when you think no ones looking. the way you doodle in the corners of my lyrics sheet and fall asleep next to me at the studio when im up late working.”

-he shifts, fully facing you, tilting your chin up so you’re looking him directly in the eyes, piercing into your soul, trying to bring back any piece of hope you have to the surface, “I love you because theres that insatiable force pulling us together,” he playfully tugs on your arm, earning a teary chuckle from you as you look away, feeling the tears start up again. damn him and his talent with words.

-he’s just saying that because you asked him that

-your brain, a genius

-guilt courses through you at his words, a stab to the heart marred by the sweet tone of lies. this was manipulation. great. you’d manipulated your way to validation was an excellent girlfriend you were, truly inspiring. You feel the headache start up again, but yoongi catches you, placing his hands firmly where your shoulders connect to your neck, seriousness overcoming him as he cuts off your thoughts, sword at the ready, “I’m a logical person y/n, you know this, you say this to me all the time, and I wouldn’t have said any of this if it weren't true.”

-he searches your expression for anything, a twitch or a change, and is surprised to have you curl up in his arms, burying your face in his chest as you breathe for seemingly the first time since the conversation started, letting a full sigh as you try to clear your head, willing to pay anything to just believe his words. yoongi pulls away, hand running softly through your hair as he admires you. he slowly leans in for a small kiss, not passionate, leading to nothing, but just a kiss to let you know he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere and for now, just knowing he’s here is enough

-after what seems like forever of him holding you, the rim of the tub digging into your thighs, he presses a gentle kiss on your temple, intertwining your fingers with his before he stands up, extending his free arm to help you up. “come on princess, lets go to sleep,” is all he says.

[aaello-w]

DP Plot - Storyline help

So I was writing a fanfic where full Danny and Pariah fuse (like Dan) and I had two options one this prompt which I will post right here or Insane!Danny straight up V*res Pariah's core (for a valid reason I swear) because he is insane. I did this because I want the reader's to know Danny is fucking crazy and is basically the Bill Cipher of the DP universe. So lemme know watchu think PLEASE!

The leader of the frost giants sighed in contemplation as he listened to the older halfa words.

"You're insane Vlad. Waking the Great One up in such a manner is sure to taint him and giving your record for these things I'd rather not risk it."

"And for how long do you intend to keep him asleep? Surely you must have realized that he WILL die if he doesn't come out of this soon, Frostbite." Vlad argued.

"His core may be fractured but it still functions as long as it remains here! He will be fine. Nocturne has agreed to keep him in a stable condition."Frostbite growled signaling to the jar containing a blue crystal orb. Although retaining its round shape it was in shards as if in need of an adhesive to keep it together. The current adhesive was a small purple misty band.

"Its. Been. Thirteen. YEARS!" Vlad growled back. "He hasn't aged a day but his peers are already courting. At this rate, they may as well die before he has the chance to crack an eye open. What do you think that'll do to him?"

"What do YOU think fusing his core with that BEAST's will do to him?" Frostbite stalked over to Plasmius and grabbed his shirt. Bringing his face close. "Our cores are our very souls, Plasmius and for him its that and his heart. As his godfather, I understand that you want him to live but if we do this how sure are you that he will even survive? How sure are you that he would remember who he is? That he wouldn't become a beast just like him?" The silence was tense and neither said a word. "The updates from Nocturne show that the Great One is stable but even HE won't be able to fix this if you mess up.'

"I know him. He can overcome it. He defeated Pariah once so I'm sure he can do it again." Frostbite saw the certainty in his red eyes and released the older halfa.

"Very well." He sighed defeated. " I'm sure you've seen Lord Clockwork about this matter before you came to see me." The Frost Giant took his silence as a yes. "I see, so I would not be mistaken to assume you have brought the materials needed for the transfusion?"

"You know me too well," Plamius said with a smirk. While the ring of rage and the crown are in your possession correct" Frostbite nodded. "I've gotten the old tyrants core right here." He said as he pulled out three thermoses from his bag.

They were not like the others that Frostbite had ever seen the Great one use. Instead of silver and green, these were purple and red. They had a see-through chamber in between their torsos. The one to the left contained a core, not unlike a sea urchin. It was somewhat round but was covered in deadly looking spikes dripping with a tar-like liquid the Frost Giant hadn't seen before while the one to the right was filled with ectoplasm. The middle one remained empty. They were placed on a console on some sort and tubes were plugged to their side both leading to the middle empty thermos.

After the setup Plasmius reverted back to Masters causing Frostbite to lift a furry eyebrow at his clothes. He was wearing a deep red hazmat suit. Vladimir turned to face him covering his face and greying hair with hazmat face protection.

"Just to be safe. I don't want my signature to interfere with this and this will keep it from doing just that. After we bring him in here I need you and everyone in the vicinity to be cleared out of at least this cave. Can you get that done?" Vlad said fixing his grey gloves.

"I believe so but I must warn you if I remove him you must work fast. Without his core, if his body thaws he'll die." 'And I'll kill you.' Was a threat that Masters understood. "Nocturne has also been informed so the Great One is also being prepared subconsciously to be awakened."

"Don't worry about that." He held his hand out to the Frost Giant who reluctantly gave Vlad their Saviour's fractured Core. " Bring Daniel and place him on the table. Like you said we need to work fast." Frostbite left immediately.

The old Halfa looked at the core and sighed. 'I can't believe he agreed to this.'

"Are you ready for this Daniel?" He asked the blue broken shards that only slightly resembled the orb they once were. 'Please work.'

He gently placed the core shards in the vacant thermos causing to shine bright blue as it floated in its container.

"Skulker. The gauntlets."

The hunter deactivated his invisibility and handed him the glove like machine now modified not to remove the ghost from a person but to modify the structure of one. It had taken the better part of the thirteen years to create these changes but he had done it.

"I still need you on standby... Just in case it fails." Skulker simply nodded and became invisible.

"Plasmius." Frostbite had returned and was carrying his charred body covered in white sheets. The scars hadn't healed and to the untrained eye, he was just a victim to a horrible fire but that was far from the case.

He was so willing to give his life for so many and nobody besides some of the frost giants, Clockwork, himself and Skulker knew he was still alive. Even his family and friends had mourned and forgotten him.

"Are you ready?" Frostbite asked as he laid the boy down and hooked him up to the medical equipment he had summoned to the room. The heart monitor showed his pulse and heart beat which moved like they were in slow motion.

"The question is - Is he?" Vlad asked softly at the sight of the younger halfa. It still made his stomach curl at the sight of him like this. He couldn't believe the boy had lived through the entire ordeal, even if he was less human than he was, to begin with. That catastrophe would and should have killed anyone.

"We have an hour for the transplant so I advise that you use your time wisely. The people in these parts have been distributed elsewhere so no one will interrupt us now." The Frost Giant locked the doors and sighed suddenly looking much older as he glared at the man. "Vladimir if this fails..."

"It won't," Vlad said firmly. "I may have done many crazy things in the past but I do love Daniel as if he were my son. I would be lying to say that I'm not s-scared to fail but that's because he does not deserve that." He stated and if anyone heard his stutter no one mentioned it. "Okay. Let's begin we have already wasted too much time."

After entering the password into the machine it the ectoplasm began to slowly drain itself into the blue core's chamber as the same happened with Pariah's core. The blue core pulsed almost uncertain to accept before it began to sink the mix.

Thirty minutes in, the heart monitor spiked and Danny began to twitch.

"I thought you said an hour!" Vlad said as he watched the boy's face contort in pain. He felt horrible the boy was in an uncomfortable rest for more than a decade and the first thing he feels during his 'resurrection' is pain.

The thermoses began to tumble violently, cackling with electricity that promptly shocked Vlad who tried to stabilize it. Both the chambers on the left and right proceeded to drain their content at a rapid pace some how suffocating the halfa's core. Pariah's core fading as it drains.

"Plasmius, what's happening? Is this supposed to be happening?" Vlad remained silent as he began to rapidly type on the keypad on the controls. "VLAD!" He roared.

"Look would you be quiet! If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to save his life." Vlad hissed.

The core shards began to lose hue and fade as they made no sign of coming back together. His core, his heart, was failing.

It was obvious that Frostbite was restraining himself to a great degree but he could see that Vlad was also under pressure as he could potentially lose the boy. He thought about where he would have been if he hadn't taken the brunt of the blast. If the people had listened to his warnings. If they hadn't caught him. He would have had more time but fate seemed to work against him. Even now Vlad kept trying to work through this. He may look like one but he wasn't a monster.

The beeping grew erratic and the thermos to the right (containing the ectoplasm) crashed causing the chamber to explode. As if that wasn't shocking enough another ghost appeared beside Vlad and created a shield to protect Vlad, himself and The great one from the blast. It was the hunter ghost, Skulker.

"Vlad we need to stop, if we continue we'll only damage it further. Remove his core." Skulker said.

"NO! We can't, I can't turn my back on this, on him. Not again." Vlad's voice heavily dripped with an emotion the frost giant had never truly heard on the older halfa. Guilt. Honestly, it made Vlad look older than he actually was.

He didn't want to make assumptions on fear that he might get angry that this halfa was actually acting on force hope and impulse and the fact that they were not alone, but he decided he would deal with it if, no, not if, when they revived the Great One.

The beeping had not stopped but there was a reaction from the Great One who was heavily panting. The shards had began to descend into a bluish purple with flecks of red in the broken shards which were slowly sealing themselves with the tar like essence of Pariah's core. Vlad seemed to notice this and gave a sigh of relief and shrugged Skulker off.

"Look now it working h-"

The last two thermos crashed with Daniel's core in it. A ghostly wail erupted almost immediately.

So that's it peeps that or Danny v*res Pariah's core. This version makes Vlad the staple father figure. Quick and easy. The other version Danny seizes the throne by force and honestly threatens Fright Knight into serving him because Danny doesn't want to kill him even though he kills the general draguar ghost in charge of his torture almost immediately. (Because Danny does not like his tongue chopped off.) So what do you guys think?

[vexie-chan]

The Significance of a Chair

This past episode obliterated me...sometimes I write to clear out my feels. So that’s what I did here. I don’t know if I’ll do anything else with this for a03 since it’s a scene rewrite/expansion

MAJOR EPISODE 48 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Thump thump thump

              Caleb isn’t sure what’s louder—their footfalls on the stairs or the ever-harder hammering of his heart against his ribcage. His ears are ringing with alarms only he can hear. Run, you don’t want to be here. Run away. Anywhere but here. But he can’t. The illusion doesn’t allow the rosy tint to drain from Nott’s halfling cheeks, but he knows the pallor of her normally green skin just by the terrible look on her face. He can’t run now, no matter how terrified he is. He has to stay for her.

              Gods know she has stayed for him. Over and over again. He has dragged her all over the place, even underwater. He will follow her, now, when she needs him.

              The room opens up into more chaos. What once appeared to be a private laboratory is tousled and ruined, broken equipment casting eerie shadows on the wall under Caduceus’s light. That is not what stops Caleb in his tracks, turning his knees to water. Anyone can toss the contents of a room around. Bandits, monsters, common burglars. It is not that.

              It is the chair placed in the center of the room.  

              There is nothing special about it.

              It is just a chair, pristine and orderly in the otherwise chaotic room.

              Caleb shrinks away from the chair, reaching for the wall behind him. No. No, no, no. He hears footsteps that aren’t any of theirs on a cold marble tiled floor that isn’t this flagstone floor. The legs of the chair echo as they hit the floor at the same time. The sound drops like a stone into the pit of his stomach. He waits, holding his breath with dread, knowing what is coming.

              “Sit.” The command is laced with irresistible power. Sometimes it’s for Caleb, sometimes he watches one of the others stiffen, walk to the chair, and sit against their will. They do not know which of them will be chosen prior to the command taking effect. None of them are granted time to prepare for what happens next, meaning all of them must be ready.

              In the beginning, they tried to fight it.

              They stop trying very quickly. (They find it doesn’t take people long to learn that resisting is worse. A lesson well learned.)

              “Begin.” This command is not backed with magic, but it’s an irresistible command nonetheless. If they do not perform, Trent will. He watches with a scrutinizing eye. If they hold back, if they weaken, he will step in to demonstrate. And he is not merciful.

              It’s important practice, after all—to learn how to perform and how to withstand. If they can’t do it here, how will they survive what’s to come? How will they be able to do what is needful? Little by little, they become indifferent to each other’s screams. Later, in the quiet hours of the night, they comfort each other and compare notes, critiquing their performances with a scholarly eye, even as the welts and burns fade. The day’s victim is the harshest critic of all as they learn to sit straight in the face of everything. There is no hate between them for this. You do what you have to in order to survive and grow stronger. No looking back. They grow stronger together.

              Soon, they graduate from the chair. Strangers’ frightened faces replace their own. Those found guilty of crimes against the crown. Revolutionaries and spies sit as the three of them go to work as they’ve been taught, immune to the pleas and screams coming from these strangers. This is easier. Twisted fear distorts a stranger into something not real—a noncorporeal dream figure. After learning to ignore the pain of your own…well. It’s easier.

              They get what they’ve come for; they never fail in this. They’ve been trained not to.

              They leave the chair.

              The others are searching for things. Caleb’s eyes do not leave the chair for several minutes, watching it as if it might jump at him. He knows this chair, though he has never seen it before in his life.

              Finally, he tears his eyes away. This is not helpful. Focus on what matters now. Focus on Nott. He’s here for Nott. He’s here for his friend.

He finds her anxiously searching through the upheaval for—for what? Clues to this missing chemist? Her friend? She kneels and starts picking the lock of the silver chest. Caleb takes a breath to warn her that the lock is arcane, but her small, deft fingers break through the spell effortlessly. She throws the box open, waving aside the toxins as if they’re a minor nuisance. The face isn’t hers, but the determination he sees there somehow is. And yet she is so different. He’s never seen her like this—so frightened yet so focused.  Grief threatens her every moment; he can see her pushing it away, rejecting it.

              Is this how it always was? Who came home after Caleb left? Who came to find their things tossed about or completely destroyed? Who came home wondering where their loved one had been taken, or who had left them for dead? How many people came home to find this at his hands? He never had considered that someone might be left behind after their mission completed. Caleb prods his fragile memories, trying to recall the faces of the people they “paid visits” like this to, but he’s shocked to find he can’t. He didn’t care enough. They weren’t people; they were rebels. They were faceless—that is how he was trained to see them. Did they have families? Friends? Someone to mourn them?

              There are objects in the case—a strange tripod device that Caleb doesn’t like the look of, and some vials. One contains—something. Nott hands it to him. He forces his hand to stop shaking as he takes it from her, frowning at the—stuff inside. He frowns at it—if things happened the way he thinks they did, why were these objects left behind? What was the goal of this mission? Is this trivial stuff? What did they come for?

              Caleb barely has time to process this when he hears it. Jester and Nott are both reading frantically from burned pieces of paper they’ve recovered from the mess of destroyed notes on the ground. Trent finding a few of his proteges-and Caleb stops hearing. He holds out a hand for the pages. They’re passed to him. He tries to read and commit the information to memory, but his eyes don’t leave the name Trent. Here. He’s here. Even if he isn’t here, he is still here. This is his fault. His doing. His command.

              “Sit.” The cold command whispers in Caleb’s ears. Those eyes watching, burning, judging. Thin hands folded on a crossed knee, observing.

              “Begin.”

              “You know what you must do.”

              “Disappointing. Lock him away for now. I will find some use for him, perhaps.”

              Caleb can feel Trent staring at him, patiently waiting, fingers tapping on his knee. Caleb’s walking right back to him. He’s been running for so long—he’s not ready yet. Not now. If he faces Trent, he will die…and he will die last, and not for a long while. Treachery is not taken lightly. He will be punished for all he’s done. Flames flicker in Caleb’s mind.

              It’s Nott’s voice that cuts through them, slow, full of fear and anger.  

              “The Xhorhasians weren’t doing this. Somebody else was. Your people,” she says, her eyes meeting his as he looks up from the paper in his hand. Ice drops down his spine. Even in her disguised form, her eyes are bitter and cold. His lips part with an unasked question. His ears are ringing. Sweat gathers in his palms. 

              “Your people…” Beau repeats softly, looking from Nott to Caleb.

              My people. The words echo in Caleb’s head. He did this. The legs of the chair hit the floor over and over again. Begin.

              “Your people were doing experiments and trying to…” Nott’s shaking her head in disbelief and horror.

              She’s not the only one staring at him now. Everyone—gods, the whole of the Mighty Nein are staring between Nott and Caleb in varying degrees of confusion. No! They can’t find out. Not now, of all times. Not like this, where it’s all so sharp and real. Not in this room. Panic grips Caleb. He shakes his head, motioning for her to stop, a strangled sound making its way from his throat. Nott raises her head, furious anger twisting her halfling features in an almost goblin-like way.

              “What? It’s your people,” she says, voice raising. “The people you know and studied with and trained with. Your people.”

              My people. I did this. Caleb folds in on himself, closing his eyes tight as he drops his head into his hands. He can’t do this—Trent is here. That’s enough on it’s own. And Jester is looking at him, her eyes wide and full of sadness for Nott—he can’t stand to see her disappointment when she understands. Fjord is frowning in confusion—the dots will connect any moment now. Yasha watches silently, her eyes traveling uncertainly between Nott and Caleb. He can’t even look at Caduceus—the firbolg’s eyes will tear right through him in his exposed state.

              Dimly, he’s aware of Beauregard speaking—Beauregard who he just stormed away from only a few days ago—Beauregard who screamed compliments after him--the only other person who knows his secret. There’s an unsure plea to her voice.

              “It’s because he hasn’t like…they haven’t….in terms of…” she’s trying to explain. Caleb feels her hand on his shoulder, protective. He tries to flinch away, but can’t.

              “Well fuck him!” Nott shouts, the words echoing in the stone room.

              There’s a shattering sound like a thousand panes of glass. Caleb’s eyes fly open. He stares at Nott. She’s staring at Beau, bitterness and hatred in every line of her face. Hatred for him. Caleb can’t breathe. His chest constricts. His stomach twists horribly. Beau’s hand tightens on his shoulder, but he barely feels it.

              Fuck him.

              A door nowhere near here slams shut and Caleb is alone in the corner of a cold, damp cell again. This time, there is no Nott coming to join him. She is the one who slammed this door.

              Nott, who is always behind him. Nott, who is always on his side. Nott, who he has trusted and loved, who would run with him when the time came.

              And that’s gone.

              Caleb stares, his teeth chattering. It’s cold suddenly; why is it so cold? Nott turns her eyes to him, but they’re unfamiliar, a stranger’s eyes. It has nothing to do with her disguise.

              “It’s your people that have done this to my people,” she says, enunciating each word carefully as she does when she’s angry, “and now we have to find them both.”

              Your people and my people, she said, drawing a line between them. For who he is. For what he did. She’s not claiming him anymore. In his memory (or was it a dream? It doesn’t feel real anymore.) Nott approaches him, wrapping her small arms around him the best she can. It’s just after he’s told her and Beau the truth of who he is.

              Nott’s eyes are tear-filled—though they might just appear that way because his are. He waits for her to reject him, to run like she should. Like everyone should. But she doesn’t.

              "I’m so sorry, it wasn’t you, it’s not your fault,” she says gently, stroking his hair. “It wasn’t you, you were made to do it. It’s not your fault. I know you don’t realize that now, but you will. This pain that you have that you wear all over you like a mask, it’s just that and you can take it off someday. I know it hurts but it wasn’t your fault. And I’m just gonna keep telling you that until you believe me...What you did was awful, truly terrible, despicable and unforgivable. Until you can forgive it. At some point, you’ll have to do that. And I swear to you that I will be at your side until you do."

              As much as he can’t let himself relax into that fantasy, he believes her. Just a little bit. And something inside of him loosens, just a little. He dares to let himself be loved, just for a moment. 

              You promised, he doesn’t say now, though the words are right there. Even if he felt he could get them out, he won’t say it. What right does he have to call upon that promise? There was no way she could have understood what he is then. It was just a story he had told about the awful things he had done. Here is the reality. This is who he is. Who he’ll always be. Of course, now that she truly understands, she’s gone. Of course. That is the truth of things. He is a monster and he will be alone. This is something he already knew. 

               He just didn’t expect it to hurt like this. 

              Caleb’s legs stop holding him up. He sinks down onto his knees, out of Beau’s grasp, shuddering violently. Beau is distracted enough not to notice.

              You did this. This is your fault. The flames burn higher and higher. Anonymous screams join the usual two in the flame. And that cold voice.

              Begin.

              A voice he will hear again very soon.

              Even though he’s freezing cold, the stone feels cool against his palms as he braces himself, everything he’s eaten in the past day violently exiting his system. The hard knot in his stomach doesn’t loosen, but his muscles do, arms collapsing under him.

              A shadow looms over Caleb. Two strong, furry arms scoop him up. He doesn’t have the energy to protest as Caduceus cradles him like a small child. The tall firbolg smells warm and faintly floral, like tea in some secret garden. Caleb’s eyes close against his will, his breathing slowing in time with Caduceus’s own calm breaths. He’s suddenly so tired...

              “You’re not at fault here,” Caduceus says quietly. Caleb can feel the words rumble in the firbolg’s chest against his face. “You’re the solution here. You know that right? We’re here to fix this. Don’t let her anger…it’s not about you. This is not about you.”

              Caleb wants to tell Caduceus that he’s wrong. That he is responsible. That Caduceus and the others should run. They will know soon enough. When they realize who he is and what he has done, they will leave him behind. And they should.

              Your people.

               “Let’s get out of here,” Caduceus says. He carries Caleb up the stairs and out of the rubble. Caleb gets one more glance at the chair, as Jester peers underneath it. Don’t, he thinks. But it’s just a chair.

              “Let me down,” Caleb murmurs once they’re outside.

              “I don’t think I should,” Caduceus says. “I don’t think you’d get very far in your condition. Just stay with me for a little bit, all right?”

              Caduceus steps up onto the front of the cart easily. He sets Caleb down next to him gently.

              “This is grief, you see that, don’t you? Believe me, I see a lot of grief in my line of work,” he says quietly, directing the horses to follow the rest of the party, Nott at the lead. Caleb watches her.

              “She’s right,” he says. “My people. My fault.”

              Caduceus glances at him, frowning.

              “Somehow I get the vibe that they haven’t been your people for a very long time. And this…this is not your fault,” he says. “Even if somehow it is…what matters is what you do tomorrow. So, Mr. Caleb, what are you going to do?”  

              Caleb runs both hands through his hair. In his mind’s eye, he walks away from the chair, supported by his friends.

              “We do what we have to,” Astrid says gently, putting down the pestle and spreading salve on Caleb’s shoulder. The sting of the welts cools.

              “We patch each other up and face the day,” he agrees.

              “No looking back,” Eodwulf says from the floor.

              “No looking back,” Caleb and Astrid say in unison, nodding.

“No looking back,” Caleb whispers. “I will do what needs doing.”

              For them…for her. He will do what he has to.