#and it just. keeps. happening. almost everyone i watched at 13 are either abusive or pests (or simply dont post)

[cyanonights]

please never idolize anyone.

itll break your heart if they end up making a mistake, and they will, theyre human after all.

and itll break your soul if they end up being a creep/abuser.

[horrormoviemonstermakeout]

MONSTER RATING: Dracula (Renfield)

Renfield is a horror-comedy directed by Chris McKay and marks the second movie where Nicolas Cage plays a deranged vampire. When I found out he was set to play Count Dracula, I had to mull it over in my brain before finally determining, yes, Nicolas Cage as Dracula is actually extremely fitting. I’ve not read Dracula but from what Tumblr people have told me, he’s a giant freak, and oh boy does Nic Cage make Dracula the biggest goddamn freak you’ve ever seen. I almost wish he was in a better movie than this one.

Renfield plays out like fanfiction of the original story. The story takes place, presumably, over a century after the events of the book (though Dracula either survives the battle at the end or it never happened at all) in the city of New Orleans. Robert Montague Renfield (Nicholas Hoult), servant and familiar to Count Dracula (Nicolas Cage), has grown tired of his abusive relationship to his master and seeks to escape it. While attempting to search for more victims to restore his lord to full power, he runs afoul of the Lobos gang, run by Teddy Lobo (Ben Schwartz) and his mother (Sohreh Aghdashloo). This happens tangentially to the side plot of an extremely angry cop, Rebecca Quincy (Awkwafina), who is attempting to take down the Lobos gang after the murder of her police lieutenant father by their hands. These two plots collide as Count Dracula and the Lobos gang team up in order to rule the world, and it’s up to Renfield and Rebecca to stop them.

This movie is a complete mess, and I am shocked that it somehow garnered a 65$ million dollar budget, and slightly less shocked that it was a total flop at the box office. I’m going to tear into this movie, but I will say outright that I fairly enjoyed it, it’s delightfully stupid - mainly because I watched it with friends and we kept making fun of it; the best way to watch this movie in my opinion.

Tonally, Renfield is all over the place. The themes of an abusive relationship, the absurd amount of gore, and the characters cussing every two seconds would make you think this movie’s intended audience is for adults, but the plot plays out like something out of an Illumination film. Renfield doesn’t want to be a conniving monster like his master, he wants to be independent, a defender of the innocent, a hero - just like Rebecca! These characters act like they’re in a kids movie all the while being surrounded by blood and viscera. There’s this one scene where Renfield and Rebecca have to defend themselves from the gang threatening to shoot up the diner they’re inside of, and the two manage to brutally kill and mutilate every single enemy in the vicinity. Afterwards, they share casual, somewhat awkward dialogue - Rebecca tells Renfield he’s a hero, Renfield is a bit sheepish about it, they make little quips at each other - keep in mind that they are surrounded by several dozen dismembered corpses while they share quips. This happens more than once. They just seem incredibly blase about their extremely high body count, which I’m aware is quite possibly the joke but it falls completely flat. I’m certain that if you took out all the gore and swearing, this movie would barely be PG-13.

I was right about Nic Cage being an amazing fit for Dracula. Nic Cage’s Dracula is the only anchor that makes this film worth watching, in all honesty. He plays into his character so delightfully freakishly that I almost wish he was in a better movie than this. Can you imagine how bad a movie would have to be if it makes you think, “Nic Cage’s talents are being wasted on this film?” I’ve seen Adaptation. I know he’s goofy but I think he’s a genuinely good actor, and his interpretation of Dracula was one of the few things that made me keep watching this film. He plays his character more or less completely straight compared to everyone else, and it’s way more fun than watching Renfield and Rebecca share stock movie dialogue and having a liar-revealed-plot. He’s an overly-dramatic little goober who tries his best to be 100% spooky all the time. He sits on a throne made of blood bags. He sips blood out of a martini glass filled with prop Party City eyeballs like he’s still playing the Ghostrider. He wears black suits with glitter lapels. I came for Nic Cage Dracula, I stayed for Nic Cage Dracula, and I do not think this movie would be as worth watching without him in it.

So, I’m going to talk about something that will seem very out of left field: is this movie copaganda? True, the entire police force is controlled by the Lobos gang - very little surprise here - but our hot-headed cop deuteragonist Rebecca is portrayed as a heroic figure, despite her continuous violation of several laws. More than once she discharges her firearm into a public space filled with innocent civilians, and manages to stack a body count about as high as Renfield’s. Of course, this is typical police behavior, but the movie never seems to criticize it once. In fact her only flaw is “she gets too angry sometimes,” which doesn’t even seem to be resolved by the end of the film. And I know it seems absurd for me to expect “Renfield” of all movies to criticize police behavior, but she’s literally about as violent as every other corrupt cop in the movie.  I guess her excessive murder is justified because she’s doing it for a good cause: to extrajudicially execute as many gang members and cops that stand in her way to arrest one person. True justice!

To reiterate: this movie is a mess. It’s bad, but I do believe bad movies are good in their own way. I had a fun time watching it with friends. Would I watch it again? No, not really. But if you’re looking for a movie that you can just turn your brain off to and make fun of with buds, Renfield is probably the movie for you.

Okay, I’m tired of talking about this shitass movie. Insert your "this movie sucks" joke here and let's get on to talking about the only person that matters in this movie

- MONSTER RATING - DRACULA -

CREEPINESS: 3/10 - He’s too much like Nic Cage. I understand that this is why I like this version of Dracula, but I like it because he’s a delight to watch. Would I say he’s scary? Well, his rows of sharp teeth, pale green skin, and raspy, whispery accent does give him a creepy-ish vibe. But it’s Nic Cage. He, and I cannot stress this enough, sips blood out of a martini glass full of eyeballs. He’s about as scary as Jeff the Killer. He’s a caricature of something scary. This isn’t to say that the movie intended to make him scary - it is a horror-comedy after all. In fact, this is probably the genre of horror movie best suited for him if he were to play the antagonist. I don’t think he could play a serious role.

Would it be possible to make him scary? …Maybe? I’m trying to imagine what a scary Nicolas Cage might look like, but all I can think about is him being a little menace in Face/Off, or every meme in The Wicker Man. I think his image is too ingrained into his other, less serious roles for me to be convinced that he’s something to be feared. Like trying to make Christopher Walken or Seth Rogen the main monster in a horror film, I don’t think it’s ever happening. That’s probably why he got cast into a horror-comedy instead of a straight horror film in the first place.

WETNESS: 7/10 - This movie is shockingly gory, but in a gleeful, silly way. Renfield tears off a man’s arms and uses them like nunchucks, clubbing goons in the head with them. This is equally true for Dracula, who tries to find every chance he can get to soak himself in blood. It is Dracula after all, a very cartoonish depiction of him at that.

After Dracula’s introduction, he gets incinerated to charred, black flesh by the daylight and has to spend some time recuperating. When we see him next, his head is covered in patches of regenerating skin, some of it hanging off of him in loose strips. Exposed musculature is visible in parts that aren't covered by loose clumps of flesh. It’s surprisingly well-made makeup and practical effects, which is one of the few things I can give this film props for. Though, everything that isn’t practical effects - which is to say, very little - instead uses CGI, which is fine for what it is. I’m not gonna expect Renfield of all movies to be the bastion of practical effects.

DATEABILITY: 1/10 - Listen, I understand that Dracula is one of the most fuckable entities in all of fictional history, but you need to consider that this is Nic Cage’s Dracula. This monster rating is highly opinionated, and no offense to Nic Cage, I’m sure he’s a wonderful person, but I do not see him as a suitable romantic partner. The Dracula in this movie is too ingrained with his personality for me not to disentangle it from him. This is just Nicolas Cage as a vampire to me.

There is also the fact that this version of Dracula is meant to symbolize an abusive partner, which makes the dateability score drop very low in conjunction with the fact that it’s Nicolas fucking Cage. A narcissistic partner who gaslights and manipulates Renfield into staying with him despite all his abuse very clearly tells me he would make a terrible partner for someone. Just fuck regular Dracula like a normal person.

FINAL RATING: I WOULD NOT KISS THIS VAMPIRE / 10

[bugsy-maria]

Winchester's x Demon Sister! Reader

Warnings: Mention of burning alive, mention of torture and abusive past

"You know I find it hard to believe that you don't recognize your own Daughter," I played with the blade of John's hunting knife, "Were you that much of an absent father?" I looked up at the three hunters I hold hostage. my black eyes staring at them, a deadpanned look across my may face.

"I don't have a daughter!" he lost his cool fast. he yelled at me and I barely said anything.

"Of course you do," I bent down to his eye level, "You just forgot about her in the fire."

~~~~~22 years before~~~~~

3rd POV

Marry had just tucked in her two latest pride and joys. today was their six-month birthdays and something about that felt familiar to Marry as she forgot about it. as she walked out of the room after kissing the twins goodnight, she dismissed the feeling.

Mary passes John as she leaves the nursery, he's on his way to put Dean to bed. Once all children were put to bed, the adults of the house decided that it was their turn to turn in fr the night.

About an hour or two later, Mary stirs in her sleep. the noise from the baby monitor keeping her from sleeping. he sat up ready to make her way to the nursery to see little Sammy and precious (Y/N). she walked through the hall and sees a dim light coming from the TV downstairs.

Mary looks into the room in which the baby duo occupied, just to see the silhouette of her husband standing over the crib both babies slept in. they hadn't expected twins so they had only used the one that Dean used.

"John?" Mary spoke up, "Are they hungry?" she queried.

"Shh." her Husband shushed, she took it as a sign that he had just managed to put the two tots to bed. Mary made her way downstairs to turn off the TV, once she made her way to the bottom of the wooded steps she saw the last thing she expected to see.

On the couch was her husband sleeping, but in the room was John putting the babies to sleep. Marry quickly darted up the stairs turning on the lights to her own death. John awoke to the sounds of his wife screaming.

John saw the sight of the fire in the nursery, he also saw Dean standing in the hall scared.

"Get your siblings!" he shouted at the poor child. as he ran down the stairs to call for help.

~~~~~Present day~~~~~

(Y/N)'s POV

"(Y/N)?" his voice shook.

"Ding! Ding! ding!" I stood straight, "We have a winner!" I pointed at him.

"Get out of her, you black-eyed bitch!" I heard Dean speak up from the end of the line.

"Oh Dee," I chuckled, "I am your sister, I'm just upgraded." I smiled, looking back down at the knife I'm now twisting in my palm.

"You're not my sister, you're just a girl I met at school." his voice turned down yet sterned.

~~~~~9 years before~~~~~

Another day, another motel, another school. I never knew why we moved around a lot. all I knew was that it was for dad's work. I woke up to a single-bed hotel room once again. why only one bed you may ask? well, my dad is a crossroads demon for Hell so he's never around, but when he is I get new marks on my skin.

I got ready for school, I put on a black sweater with a white-collar shirt underneath. I slid my legs into a pair of ripped black jeans and tied my dirt-stained white converse. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked to the school.

the day went by miserably slow. I was walking to the lunchroom, books safely tucked into my locker. I wasn't going to eat anything, I just had to be there. I felt someone's shoulder knock into mine.

"Sorry." I squeaked out, my frame folding into itself. I looked at the person I ran into. he looked to be a senior, 6' 7" and built like a chad.

"You think you can just push me around?" his voice boomed throughout the hall, making everyone stop.

"n-no," I stuttered. I felt my shoulder get grabbed and my back gets pushed up against the locker.

"I'm gonna make you pay for even laying eyes on me short stack!" he reeled his fist back, I closed my eyes waiting for the impact.

"You wanna think about that again?" a stern voice spoke up. I opened my eyes to see a familiar face, he had light freckles on his skin, dark brown hair, and an old leather jacket. he was always at every school I went to, and always managed to get the reputation of the bad boy everyone was scared of.

the giant quickly scurried off, leaving Dean and me in the same spot.

"You okay?" he looked at me.

"mm." I hummed, "Thanks, Dean." I quietly thanked about to make my way to the lunchroom.

"You know me?" he stopped me.

"Of course, you're always at every school I go to." I looked back at him, "Almost like you follow me." I smiled. most are scared of him, but when you see him almost every day for 13 years you tend to not be as scared.

~~~~~Present day~~~~~

Ever since that day he protected me from bullies and on occasion tended to my wounds caused by my father.

"That happens to also be your sister." I smiled at him. "I swear we crossed paths so many times. I was left to burn in a fire, saved by a demon instead of my own father, always in the same motel just one room over, in the same class as Sam, always saved by Dean, always kicked out by John, and always left behind for the wolves." I walked around them.

"The demon did this to you," Sam concluded.

"You'd think that wouldn't you?" I kneeled in front of him, my knife gliding across his jaw. "Sam it always was you, you were the one to push me over the edge."

~~~~~5 Years Before~~~~~

"You might have had Dean fooled but I'm not!" sam yelled at me. I was hoping Dee would be at their room so he could help me sew up a deep gash I got on my arm. a wound that was being held closed by an old tee-shirt. "I know you are one of those things that killed our mother!"

"Sammy what are you talking about?" tears of pain dried upon my face, but new tears forming on my face. how could Same think I'm a monster?

"Don't call me that!" he pushed me back a little from my shoulders. the harsh movement caused a sting in my wound, but I won't let any pain show now. "I hate you I always have! You're nothing but a monster!" he grabbed my uninjured arm and shoved me out of the room. I stood outside as he slammed the door in my face.

something changed in me that day. something big broke. I hated what I was, so I changed in that split second. my eyes turned black that night.

~~~~~Present day~~~~~

"You know you don't have to watch me." I stood up and looked in the direction of Crowley, the demon who found me burning. "I've been planing this since I was 17." I smiled, watching him disappear. I looked around the room, making sure that he was absolutely gone.

"Thank Lucifer he's gone!" I smiled, I quickly walked over to Dean undoing his restraints.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I may be a demon now, but I still care about you Dee," I said standing up hugging him after dropping the knife.

"I know." he hugged back.

"Dean are you crazy? She's a demon?!" I heard John yell.

"And you left your child to burn alive so it's not like you're all that good either." I went over to sam to undo his restraints too.

"How do we know we can trust you?"

"Well you never did before, so don't know." I smiled, crawling over to John's chair.

"Sam, get the Colt." I heard Sam listen to John.

"Wrong direction Sammy boy." I pulled the gun out of my pants while I stood up.

"So you planned to get the gun from us?" john stood up, facing me.

"no, I'll give it back once you guys are out of  here." I looked him in the eyes.

"She wouldn't hurt us, dad." I heard Dean speak from his spot near Sam.

"And how can we trust her?" venom leaked from the old man's words.

"Fine." I sighed, "Let's make a deal." I smiled at them.

"For what our souls, you might as well kill us now then." sam sounded angry

"No of course not. I'm a demon there for I have to keep the deals I make, I let you escape if you shoot me, not dead but in the shoulder."

"Why?"

"I don't want to hurt you guys, so I need to make it seem like you escaped on your own without my help."

"And you thought I wouldn't notice?" I heard crowly say from behind me.

"I'm not going to hurt them." I looked at him.

"No you were always too sensitive, it's the human in you." I threw the colt at Dee.

"And it what has kept me alive." I smile at him.

"It's what's going to kill you,"

"But you haven't killed me, I think that's your human side." he stepped in front of me.

"You better choose your next words very wisely," he advised

"If you wanted to kill you would have by know, face it. you care for me a little bit." he snapped his fingers and I was back in hell. in my room, well more like a holding cell.

"Argue with Crowley again?" a demon asked me from outside from my cell.

"Mmhmm." I slumped on the floor in the corner of the small cement room. just hoping that my brothers would come and save me this time.

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 8

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

His brothers would always know whenever he went to see her as he’d always come back with a content smile on his face. Deep down, he wished that Y/N could’ve met Cynthia. They would have made great friends as they were the only 2 people who could make him smile like this. Mammon may not have been able to save Y/N, but he swore that he would protect Cynthia, no matter the cost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 8 - The Great Pancake Debate (2261 words)

It’s been almost 6 months since you arrived in the Celestial Realm. Needless to say, you are quite certain that these last 6 months have been the craziest and stressful months of your life! When you told Simeon and Luke about you staying here, to say they were ecstatic would be an understatement. Luke jumped for joy and wouldn’t stop rambling about all the fun you were going to have. When you told them about God appointing them to help teach you about the Realm, Luke practically did a double take and it took an hour to calm him. Now you have Simeon teaching you about politics and Luke about how to use your wings and powers. On your second day there, Michael woke you up, or well came to get you as you didn’t get any sleep. Turns out, while the Devildom is constant at night, the Celestial realm is constant day and thanks to the floor to ceiling windows, there was no way for you to stop sunlight from coming in. You were introduced to the council at breakfast. Note to self, the brothers breakfasts are QUIET AND PEACEFUL compared to Archangels off duty. The first thing you saw were 2 angels passionately arguing over which pancake topping was the best, strawberries or blueberries. At some point a third angel cut in claiming chocolate chips were the best and all heaven (would you replace hell with heaven here? idk) broke loose. As for me, I just started chuckling in disbelief while making my way over to pick up a pancake of my own when the angel arguing on behalf of the strawberries saw you.

“Hey kid, what topping do you prefer, strawberries, blueberries, or chocolate chips? It’s strawberries right?”

“Actually, I prefer them plain with maple syrup. Although if Satan was the one making it, I’d go for the one with poison berries. Contrary to their name, they’re not actually poisonous and quite sweet.” All the angels present looked at me with a mix of shock and disbelief, save for Michael who just sat there eating his breakfast hoping to leave soon and get to work.

“Kid, did you say Satan?” The angel arguing on behalf of blueberries asked. “Yeah… Blond hair, teal eyes, Avatar of Wrath, Luci’s son? Ring a bell?” Turning to Michael, blueberry angel asked,

“Micheal, who are they and why are they wearing Lucifer’s old get up?” “This is Y/N. They will be staying here and taking Samael’s spot on the council until their agreement with Father ends and they return to the Devildom. Father has asked us to teach them about how our Realm operates and how to successfully fulfill Samael’s former position flawlessly, unless they want to return now and leave heaven early?” Michael turned towards you with a smirk on his face as he asked the last part.

“Very funny Mike. You and I both know I won’t do that no matter how bad you want me to.”

“What did I say about calling me that?!” Micheal’s smirk turned into something short of a snarl.

“Well, if you won’t take me seriously, neither will I. You want me to call you by your name, earn it and stop being an butt… I meant an butt… Why can’t I swear?!”

“This is the Celestial Realm Y/N. Angels don’t swear.” Michael said smugly over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“God Dang it! Argh! Fudge!. Dang it! Ya know what, forget it, my entire mood is ruined. Thanks Michael!”

“Anytime.”

Shooting Michael one last glare, I sighed and turned to the rest of the baffled angels in the room.

“Yes, what Michael said is true. Stuff happened in the Devildom which I will not get in too-”

“The demon king made Samael kill them.”

“Ok, Mike, first off, he didn’t, I ordered him too, second, I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about it. What gives you the right to tell them huh?”

“I felt like it.”

“You son of a beach.” I turned back to the rest of the angels. “Not a word about it. Anyway, due to some personal issues, I made a deal with Father to stay here on the condition that I take over Lucifer’s spot on the council until he either kicks me out or until our agreement has ended.”

“If I may, when will this agreement of yours be over?” The blueberry angel asked.

“I will be returning to the Devildom once Lord Diavolo has been crowned king and his father is 100% out of the picture. Now if you don’t mind me asking, could you introduce yourselves?” “Oh how rude of us, I’m sorry, I am Gabriel.” Gabriel had chestnut brown medium length hair, reaching shoulders. His eyes were a dull green. He wore a white turtleneck and had a light green shawl with golden tassels. He pointed to the strawberry angel. “This is Raphael and he’s Uriel.” He pointed to the chocolate chip angel. Raphael had long reddish-orange hair put up in a high ponytail. His eyes were a stormy gray. He wore a simple light gray half sleeve with an off the shoulder white cape and little decor. Uriel had short gray hair and golden eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. He wore something that reminded you of an off white scholar's robe with gray accents. “These are Saraqael, and Raguel.” He pointed to 2 of the quieter angels who didn’t participate in “the great pancake debate”. “We make up the Archangel council and we’re happy to have you Y/N.” Gabriel finished off with a smile. You were just barely able to make out a little “Not all of us” from Michael. You decided to ignore it, and then, like all the decisions you’ve ever made, it was the wrong one. Sitting back down you asked,

“So, quick question. What started The Great Pancake Topping debate?”

.

.

.

.

Breakfast ended 2 hours later with upset angels, and pancakes, everywhere…

In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N

Levi went straight to his room as soon as they got home. As soon as he closed and locked the door he went straight to Henry’s fishbowl, picked it up and sat in his bathtub, hugging the bowl as he cried. ‘Why do I feel like this?! I only like 2D characters and Ruri-chan, not 3D people. How do I miss them?... Why did they leave me? They were my player 2.’ “Well it makes sense, no one would want to stay with a worthless shut in of an otaku like me” he said to the empty room. Henry 2.0 glubbed a bubble in response. “You wouldn’t leave me, would you Henry?” *Glub* “No you wouldn’t… I miss them.” Levi stayed in his tub hugging Henry 2.0 until he fell asleep.

Present

It was another late night, Levi was bingeing a new anime ‘I fell in love with a 3D girl but I’m afraid she’ll leave me after finding out that I’m an otaku who rarely leaves their room’ . He was halfway through the 9th episode when he got a notification from Mononoke Island. One of his raid mates was stuck and needed some help. He paused his marathon to help his fellow mate and stayed up until the early hours of the morning switching between playing Mononoke and watching his anime. Stumbling into the dining room for breakfast the next morning, he was met with complete silence. Lucifer had left early, Belphie was asleep, Beel was too absorbed in eating, Satan in his book and Asmo on his phone to even notice him enter the room. Mammon was busy in the human world helping out sone witches. Levi sat down in his normal spot, taking whatever was left as he mentally prepared himself for the day. As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day at RAD, still dressed in his uniform, Levi left as quickly as he could. There was an anime expo happening in the human realm right now and there was some ultra-rare limited edition Ruri-chan merch being sold there. He had gotten Lucifer’s permission to attend the expo so long as he was back by 11. Existing the portal and making his way to the expo, Levi thought about the last expo he attended with Y/N. They cosplayed as Erin and Levi from Attack on Titan and spent the entire day surrounded by fellow anime nerds. They had also booked a room at a nearby hotel. It was 3 days of bonding time for them. Entering the expo, Levi decided he would get something for them as decor for their headstone put in memory of them in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. Nearing the line for Ruri-chan merch, Levi noticed someone staring intensely at him. He decided to ignore them but keep a loose eye on them, just in case. He got to the front of the line and purchased 4 of the Ruri-chan collection kits. One for use, one for display, one to keep and sell in the future, and one for Y/N. He decided to wander around a little more to see if anything else would catch his eye while he was here. He spotted a Black Butler station and remembered the jokes he and Y/N would crack about Barbatos and Sebastian. He passed a Fate/Stay Night stand and remembered their conversations on which heroic class they would belong to. Levi would have been the perfect Lancer. He passed countless other stalls, each of them holding a memory he made with Y/N. Distracted by his trip down memory lane, Levi forgot all about the person stalking him. He went and purchased some dinner from one of the stalls before sitting down and pulling out his DDD and looked at some pictures of Y/N and him at their last expo. He didn’t look up from his phone until he felt someone sit opposite of him. Levi looked up to see some middle aged man just sitting there on his phone. He didn’t have any food, merch, or even look like someone interested in an anime expo. Feeling an uncomfortable aura emitting from this man, Levi got up and left. He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw that the man wasn’t following him. He left the expo and went down an alleyway to open up a portal back to the Devildom when he accidentally bumped into someone dropping his purchases.

“S-sorry”

“That’s quite alright.” The stranger extended a hand out to let him up. “Say, I’d love to know where you got your uniform from. No schools around here have uniforms like that one.”

Looking up, Levi saw the same man that was watching him with a twisted smile. Masking his fear, he mumbled an excuse about being in a rush and tried to dash around him. Before he could get 2 steps down the alley, the man grabbed him and pushed him further into the alleyway. Levi’s head struck the wall hard leaving him dazed for a moment.

“I didn’t think my intel about finding a RAD attendee at the expo would be true but whaddya know? Seems I caught myself a demon.”

Levi, now more aware of his surroundings, realized he was cornered by a demon hunter. Despite being in an alleyway, there were too many people around for him to do anything rash. Without missing a beat, the hunter pulled out an enchanted dagger aiming straight for Leviathan’s heart. Levi rolled and dogged last minute before colliding into someone’s chest. That person in question wrapped his arms around Levi’s chest and put their own dagger to his throat.

“I know you’re there! Come on out and I might spare your friend's life!” The hunter holding Levi yelled. When no one stepped out, the dagger held by Levi’s neck began pushing on his skin. Levi felt a flare of pain and against his better judgement, transformed. His tail wrapped around hunter 2’s leg and flipped him over while the first hunter charged at him, only to be blown to the ground as a powerful gust of wind knocked him over.

“Jeez Levi, you’re lucky I was here. Seriously, why didn’t ya do somethin’ earlier? Maybe then I wouldn’t have ta save yo ass.” Mammon stepped out from the darkness with a bored look on his face.

“Come on, Lucifer’s waiting for ya back home. LOOK OUT!” Levi turned around just in time to see Hunter number 2 taking a swing at his neck and managed to duck just in time. Mammon then charged over punching the hunter square in the face, knocking him out cold.

“T-thanks M-mammon.”

“No problem. Come on, let’s get ya back home before any more of them show up.”

Stepping through the portal, a question plagued Levi’s mind.

“Mammon, how did you know I was in trouble?”

“Some witches summoned me. I overheard them talk about some hunter group getting a tip about a possible demon being at some expo. Then I realized that it was the same one you were going to, so I decided to go there myself to make sure ya weren’t followed. I’m glad I did too.”

“Th-thank you Mammon. Really.”

“Of course, what are big brothers for. Anyway, about my payment, maybe you can forget about the money I owe ya?”

Groaning, Levi started walking faster, leaving Mammon and his whining behind as he made his way back to the safety of his room.

[biffhofosho]

Succumbing to Sybaris | Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Word Count: 5.5k

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At the brush of fingers through her hair, Amber's eyes creaked open resentfully to find Wonho’s dazzling smile waiting for her. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep, but now that she was awake, she realized it was the first peaceful sleep she'd had in months. Seemed like an impossible thing, waking up to the face of a vampire and feeling safe, but that was exactly what had happened.

“Hoseok?”

The bright-eyed boy beamed down at her, feathering loose strands of hair back from her face. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

Amber stretched under the blanket, wincing at the ache lurking in almost every corner of her body. That’s what she got for fucking a man made of stone. Her waist was especially sore, no doubt from the repercussions of denying Wonho what he had needed, and she imagined there were ten little pretty bruises along her abused flesh.

“Tired. You?”

“Alive,” Wonho said without a hint of irony.

She swung her legs over the edge of the futon and glanced down at her naked body. “Did you clean me up?”

“Best I could,” he said with a nod to his ripped shirt balled up on his desk. “Hope you don’t mind. I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable while you slept. You looked too much like an angel to be so sinful.”

Amber smiled and wrangled her locks back into a ponytail that hid her sex-hair. “What time is it?”

“Just past three. Hate to say it, gorgeous, but my shift's over.”

At that, Amber shot up and dove for her clothes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck, this is bad. This is so bad.”

“Nothing about that was bad,” he hummed dreamily as he tugged on a fresh t-shirt.

“Everyone knows what we did in here, Hoseok!”

“Mm, probably the whole building judging by how loud you screamed that last round.”

The detective gaped at him. “Are you serious? Fuck, I’m done. I’m so done. I thought at least I’d have till the end of this case, but my career is over. Fuck.”

Wonho folded up the futon just as carefree as he did everything else and watched her with an amused grin. “Come on, Detective Spiros. You think any of us would allow that to happen? I’ll just erase everyone’s memories here, and everything will be fine.”

“Like that’s so easy.”

“It is,” he said evenly.

Her pants sagged mid-leg as Amber studied him. “What about other people like me?”

“There’s no one else like you,” Wonho added just as evenly. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you safe.”

“Keep the detective safe who’s been hunting your brother? Yeah, sure.”

“You’ll see soon enough, Hyungwon hasn’t done anything to those women.”

Wonho said it with so much unswerving conviction that another crack widened the growing rift between Amber’s heart and her mind. She was used to her two poles always being in sync—it was how she knew she was doing the right thing—but since she’d met Hyungwon, nothing lined up anymore, and with a shiver, she realized she couldn’t trust either one.

Still, there was that last needle under her skin, the one that reminded her that no matter how much she wanted to believe they had nothing to do with Daisy and the other missing, they were still a part of it. It wasn’t a coincidence that her investigation had led her to a clan of vampires. It meant something, now more than ever considering what had happened to Evelyn Hoover.

Her heart accelerating, Amber finished dressing in record speed and was already out the door with a flippant “I gotta go.” But Wonho was a vampire after all, and he kept pace easily alongside her, even offering his hand to hold, which required every fiber of her being to ignore.

They passed the front desk, but Dami was thankfully gone, replaced instead with another blank-eyed girl who moaned convincingly on autopilot into a receiver all while she turned a page in her fantasy novel.

The moment they entered the lobby, Wonho grabbed Amber’s wrist and pinned her against the wall between both mountainous arms. To her surprise, he kissed her passionately there in the open until her senses returned and her hand shot to his throat. She dug her fingers into the firm muscles under his jaw and pushed him back, but instead of disappointment or even annoyance, she found two huge puppy eyes.

“What are you doing?” the detective hissed, glancing back toward the woman at the desk.

“I’m going to miss you,” Wonho said, the grip on his neck nothing more than an inconvenience for someone who didn’t breathe anymore. “I’m going to miss your smell. Fuck, gotta take some more of it with me. Your panties won’t be enough.”

Despite her hand pressing harder into his throat, he flattened himself against her and rolled the length of his body along hers. He nuzzled into her neck and purred as he kissed her collarbone.

“Need you all over me, baby,” he murmured as his hands knotted in the back of her shirt and smothered the rest of her compact frame with his heavy muscle. He felt so good, swallowing her body up again, and her hand dropped from his neck to his waist.

Amber’s eyes fluttered shut before she remembered herself. She shoved him back again and stood up as tall as she could. It would have been nothing for a strongman like Wonho to swat her away, but he let her win, though he unleashed a heavy sigh.

“Stop it, Lee,” she growled, knowing that the formality would hurt him but needing the distance to protect herself. “Go home. The sun’s coming up soon.”

He pouted but held the door for her as they walked into the night.

As she burst into the parking lot, Amber instantly felt that cold ripple of being watched again. She stopped and glanced around, and Wonho slowed beside her. He didn’t seem to notice anything, so the detective relaxed; after all, a vampire’s senses must be keener than hers. She was just paranoid after his public display in the lobby.

At her car, Wonho opened her door for her and smiled at her through the frame. With a gentle head tilt, he said, “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Detective, I promise. Get home safe, okay? Come see me again soon.”

He double-tapped her roof, and Amber slammed the door, thankful for the space. With Wonho, it was too easy to fall for his boyfriend-schtick, and Amber needed the perspective of miles between them.

She came home to two messages on her machine, one from Eric needling for details about her dinner with Agent Suh and another just a long reel of silence before a hang-up—probably just her best friend annoyed she wasn’t calling him back. She’d have to think of a good story to tell him considering the alternative was admitting to career-ending off-duty booty, but she was far too tired to deal with it now.

Getting restful sleep for the first time in ages had only fueled Amber’s need for more, and she tumbled face-first into her covers. She was out within moments, oblivious to the world.

She dreamed of Delphine.

Her face looked much like the one Amber saw in the mirror everyday though the eyes that stared back were matching shades of denim blue. Delphine’s chocolate hair tumbled over her shoulders and feathered in a breeze Amber couldn’t feel. Her sister was wearing the same red dress she’d disappeared in, big red ruffles on the sleeves and at her knees and a cherry rosette at the chest that accented the red gash at her neck. She was speaking, but only wet gurgles left her throat.

Her face was still, almost robotic as she spilled secrets Amber could never hear. Delphine rose one ethereal hand with the same haunting grace as she would have if she were underwater. All at once, her lips stopped moving as the breeze fell dead, and she pointed over Amber’s shoulder.

The detective turned around and realized that they were deep in the woods, night above them, around them, and beneath them. The walls of a gorge rose behind her, familiar and foreign all at once. There, far away at the top of the cliff, was a thin shadow with long limbs and sleek lines. Amber knew she’d seen it before, but she couldn’t place where no matter how hard she tried.

She looked frantically back to her sister, but Delphine couldn’t wrench her eyes from the shadow. When Amber glanced back, it was gone, but Delphine seemed to see something that her sister couldn’t, and her gazed remained fixed on the memory of the ghost.

Amber had to get them out of here. As long as that shadow was out there, they weren’t safe—she knew that.

The detective spun in a circle, but while they were on a table of rock with infinite exits all around them, deep in her bones, she felt that none of them would lead them out. They were at the bottom of a canyon, with a trail that led into darkness at either end, and Amber knew that no matter which one they chose, the shadow would be there waiting.

Instead, she turned to the only sanctuary the sisters had, a decaying stone building at the crest of the trailhead. It was covered in moss and ferns, as though it were built by Mother Nature herself. It had no roof and no windows, just empty sockets and a gaping maw where a door had once been. This place was familiar too, but again, she didn’t know why.

Amber grabbed her sister’s hand and tugged her toward the shelter, but Delphine was both light as air and heavy as rock. Amber managed to get her behind a wall, but Delphine would neither bend nor hush. She was gurgling again, her lips moving more insistently around words she couldn’t vocalize. Her blue eyes were as wide as the Pacific and just as turbulent as she worked desperately to get Amber’s attention.

“What? What is it, Della? Talk to me, please!” Amber demanded as she grabbed her sister by the shoulders. Her nails sunk into the taffeta ruffles and crunched as much from the fabric as the now-crumbling bone underneath.

In one last ditch effort, Delphine opened her mouth, but instead of an answer, out came a blood-curdling scream and a belch of smoke blacker than the darkness around them.

This time when Amber turned around, another shadow was there, and it grabbed her by the ankles. Amber tumbled to the stone floor and grabbed for any handhold, but the stones were slick with lichen, and her nails found no purchase. She thudded face-first down a flight of steps into the earth, where she was whisked up the trail faster than the wind. Behind her, Delphine watched from a window, her mouth as open and useless as the empty frame.

The air was thicker here, and Amber choked as she struggled to stop her momentum. She glared at the shadow behind her, but this shadow had a face—a sweet, round one Amber recognized instantly.

“Daisy, stop! Where are you taking me?” shouted the detective, but the girl didn’t answer. She was strong and determined to lead Amber to the tall, thin figure at the end of the canyon.

They were almost there. The air was suffocating, and Amber was dizzy. The closer they got to the shadow man, the more strength left the detective’s limbs. Delphine was just a pinpoint in Amber’s past, the only spot of color in the darkness behind her. Amber reached toward her sister, but it was pointless. All of this was pointless—the fighting, the pleading, even breathing. She was going to succumb—it was just a matter of when.

At last, Daisy slowed as they approached the top of the canyon wall, and a new set of fingers curled around Amber now. She was lifted into powerful arms, and with the last of her vision, she looked toward the face that would consume her, but it was enrobed in black smoke, same as his voice.

It was melodic and beautiful and utterly terrifying as it sang her name.

“Ambrosia…”

The edges of the dream were fuzzy now, but still, she couldn’t see anything except smoke. The shadow’s voice had shifted, morphing into two.

“He didn’t trust me, so he sent you?” complained one voice. Something about the indignance in its tone was familiar.

“You know he doesn’t take risks when it comes to her,” said the other, also familiar but far less resentful.

“Neither do I,” retorted the first. “I’ve got this. Go take care of the cleanup.”

There was weightlessness through the smoke, and Amber’s lungs cinched in revolt. She sputtered and sat up, hand clutching her throat, only to find she wasn’t in her room.

“Ambrosia, can you hear me?”

Her eyes bulged as she kicked and flailed, and the hands that cradled her under her shoulders and knees released her. She flopped back into wet grass and crawled on her belly away from her attacker, her face gathering dewdrops as she coughed.

She was tired and sore and her lungs burned. Actually, everything was burning, her skin, her throat, her eyes. Through bleary lenses, the world came back into focus. Things were no longer black but red. Everything was red and seething.

Amber rolled onto her butt and scrambled into a ball like an armadillo as her nails dug into her legs. From the shelter of her knees, she looked around and found she wasn’t in the woods at all. She was in her very crowded front lawn with thirty other people she didn’t recognize and one she did.

“Luke!” Amber shouted as she launched herself into his arms.

He held her fiercely, pressing his cheek into her crown. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why do you always forget your radio, damnit?”

He stroked her cheek and searched her face for any signs of damage but found only shock.

“What’s going on?”

“Your apartment building’s on fire. They got you out just in time,” he answered as he looked from the burning cube behind him to her “attacker,” who was just a hapless paramedic with high eyebrows and a big blanket that he handed to Lucas.

The captain wrapped it around her shoulders, and things suddenly came into focus. At last, Amber could make out the chaos that engulfed them. Firefighters stormed through the front door searching for other residents, water cascaded over brick, and ebony smoke billowed into the already black sky.

Things were still blurry, as much from the overlapping vividness of her dream as the smoke still in her eyes.

“How’d you get here so fast?” Amber wondered as she let her tears clear her eyes.

“I recognized your address over Dispatch. You know my place is only two streets over.”

She should have known. Lucas’s place had once been her place, too.

“Eric’s on his way, too. They’re going to take you to the hospital to check you out,” the captain continued, nodding toward the ambulance, but Amber shook her head violently.

“Forget it. I’m fine. No burns, no cuts, no bruises.”

“Amber—”

“I’m not going.”

The captain sighed. “Fine, but you are to let them check you out, and that’s an order. That suspension’s still on the table, you know.”

Lucas was so elegant in the firelight; every angle was sharpened while his voice was softened, and his eyes glowed as they studied hers.

“What happened?” Amber asked, and she realized how raw her throat was. Luckily, the paramedic waited at the ready with a cup of water.

As she drank, the captain answered, “Way too early to tell, but it looks like the fire started near your apartment.”

Amber nearly did a spit-take. “Near my place?”

“You know I don’t believe in coincidences,” Lucas said, his eyes shifting down the street.

“Neither do I.”

“I could assign a plain-clothes—”

“Lucas, no,” she snapped. “We need every boot to the pavement looking for these women.”

“What did I tell you about your invisible bulletproof vest, huh? You don’t have one, Amber, and the shots are getting closer,” he volleyed back, matching her annoyance.

She looked back toward her life now in smoldering rubble and felt the irony acutely.

Lucas followed her gaze back to the fire, and his temper burned away. He squeezed her hand in the wet grass and said softly, “I’m scared.”

Her head whipped to him at once. She had never, ever heard him use that word. “Of what?”

“Of losing you.”

She studied his profile etched in fire and forever branded in her heart, and she realized she was afraid of the same thing—maybe not the same way Lucas was, but she was afraid she was losing herself, too. Criminals, kidnappers, and killers, she could handle, maybe even vampires now, too, but it wasn’t death she feared. Losing Delphine had forged Amber anew in fire, and now she had emerged from flames again feeling a million miles from the woman she had been. Everything felt hopelessly out of control. Everything felt hopeless.

Lucas squeezed her hand again, and it jarred her from her self-loathing.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked.

For a split second, Amber thought of the manor lording over the Willamette and that tower room bathed in its own firelight, but she forced it away immediately. “Yeah, Eric will let me crash with him.”

Lucas nodded. “If you need anything…”

“I know. Thanks, Cap. For everything.”

He wrinkled his nose at the nickname and let her go to thumb toward the open ambulance beside them.  “Okay, Spiros, the time has come.”

It was her turn to wrinkle her nose, but Amber did as Lucas asked and let the paramedic look her over. She was just about done when a sturdy silhouette strolled through the bedlam of first responders. Shownu found her easily, his eyes wider than she’d ever seen.

“Are you all right?” he asked, surprising her.

Amber wasn’t sure why she was surprised—Shownu was always considerate of her—but maybe it was more because she was surprised at how glad she was to see him. At the sight of his now familiar handsome face, she smiled. “You came.”

“Of course,” he said with a rare smile of his own before it faltered at the sight of soot on her cheeks and hands.

“You got here faster than Nam, and he only lives a few blocks away,” she marveled.

“I was already out when I got the call. What happened?”

“Don’t know. I was asleep, and the next thing I knew, I was out here safe and sound. The fire’s under control now, but my place is most likely a total loss.”

He appraised her blank face and smooth skin and pursed his lips. “You’re handling it pretty well.”

“I think I’m just numb, maybe to everything at this point. I mean, how much more fucked up can my life get?” Amber said with a bitter laugh. “Better knock on wood.”

“You need a place to stay?” Shownu asked, surprising her again.

“You offering, Son?” she joked before she realized he was serious, and for some reason, that realization made her cheeks burn. “I’m all good, thanks though. And thanks for coming out. You didn’t need to.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re partners.”

Shownu was a man of few words, but somehow he always knew the ones Amber wanted to hear.

“Look, Son, I know I said—”

But he shook his head. “I’m glad you’re okay. Will I see you at the precinct tomorrow?”

Amber smirked. “Probably today.”

“Spiros—”

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, do I?” Her voice wasn’t nearly as bitter as she expected it to be, and suddenly, she understood why. She studied her partner, his eyes as tense as his mouth, and for the first time, he felt like someone she could truly trust. “And anyway, maybe starting fresh is just what I need—just what we all need. Time to let go.”

It could have been the dwindling flames, but she thought she caught the glint of something a lot like hope in his eyes. With a nod, he said, “See you then.”

Shownu joined the captain at the edge of the first responder melee, and Amber headed to her car, hoping to grab a few things and maybe even a few clothes at the 24-hour grocery while the world was still quiet. Of course, her block was alive with activity now, every nearby house and apartment alight, every window blotted by nosy shadows, but beyond that, Portland was still sleepy in the early morning hours. Past the trees and hills, the sky tinged the faintest hint of lavender and silver with the first kiss of sunrise.

Mercifully, Amber’s car waited in the parking lot safe and sound, though it was dusted with ash and hose water and reeked of acrid smoke. She ran the wipers a few times before slipping out the back way, windows down and fresh air flushing out the late-night horrors.

The mindlessness of driving took over immediately, and Delphine appeared—ice blue eyes and blood red throat—in the passenger seat, a ghostly palimpsest that countered her sister’s plans for a fresh start. Grisly as it was, it comforted Amber. It had been so long since she’d dreamed of her sister that Amber had worried she was forgetting her. If she ignored the gaping hole in Delphine’s throat, it felt like high school again, like one of their midnight jailbreaks where they tore up Sunset Highway looking for trouble.

Just like in the dream, Delphine was mouthing words, and sure enough, before they’d even reached the end of the block, she raised her arm and pointed straight ahead.

A thin shadow charged toward them in the road, and Amber slammed on the brakes, but it wasn’t fast enough. She was going to hit it.

“Jesus!” she squealed as she jerked the wheel, but the car had already stalled beneath the powerful hands now splayed across her hood. The figure straightened unharmed as the headlights blared across the graceful angles of Chae Hyungwon’s face.

His hair was mussed and his chest heaved as though his lungs had forgotten they’d been long atrophied by death. He peered at the detective through the windshield with wild eyes.

“What are you doing out?” he demanded in a hiss.

“How did you—” Amber stammered. “Did you run here?”

“Go back right now,” he growled, his long nails scratching the hood.

She ignored him and instead revved her engine, but Hyungwon had pinned it in place. Confused and frustrated, Amber looked to Delphine for help, but her twin had vanished, leaving her alone with the vampire. “Why are you here, Chae?”

“My brothers told me what happened.”

“How do they know? Are you stalking me?”

“Hoseok called me. He sensed you were being watched when you left him.”

Amber’s stomach plummeted. Someone was surveilling her. For blackmail? For revenge? For fun?

“Human or vampire?” she probed.

“We don’t have time for that now. Tell me, Detective, have you been dreaming?”

Now, it was her heart sinking. Since the day she’d met Hyungwon and his brothers, they had taken turns coming to her in her sleep. They never spoke and rarely moved, but they were there, always tempting, always watching. Sometimes she would perform for them, lewd acts of exhibitionism that often saw her waking to crescendoing orgasms. Other times she would go to them, sit on their laps or embrace them, and kiss them until she woke up with drenched lingerie and an ache in her chest.

Amber expected him to be smug, but Hyungwon whipped his head violently. “Not the ones about us.”

Her hands slackened on the wheel. “How did—”

“Anything else? Tell me.”

“My sister,” she admitted, voice as hollow as the barrel of a gun. “And someone else.”

“Who!” he shouted, and her car shook.

“I don’t know.”

Hyungwon forked a hand through his long hair and asked, “Your sister, did she have eyes like yours?”

“What difference does it make?”

“Did she?” he said more firmly, and Amber blanched.

“No, okay? Jesus. Both of hers were blue. She didn’t have the split.”

In less than a heartbeat, he reached in through the window and turned off the ignition. Amber flailed and spluttered, but her keys were now in the hands of the vampire. Hyungwon’s lips were set in a tight line as he opened her door and waited for her to join him. “From now on, you’ll stay with us.”

She barked a laugh into the gray dawn. “Are you kidding me? I'm not staying in your den of snakes.”

“You'll be safer there than anywhere else,” he insisted.

“I can take care of myself.”

“And I'm sure that would be true if you knew what you were fighting, but you don't. That little piece of metal and gunpowder you love so much will have no impact on someone like us.”

“You do know something!” she said as she shot out of the car, finger pointing at his slender chest. “Tell me right now, Chae. Who is it? One of your brothers? Kihyun? Hyunwoo? Or is it Choi Seunghyun? What happened to those women?”

Hyungwon looked over his shoulder toward the chrome cap of Mt. Hood peeking just above the trees and growled. “It’s not safe.”

“I'm not afraid.”

“You should be! I am!”

In the shelter of the pines, his words resonated. Amber thought of Lucas and all he’d admitted only an hour ago, but he’d had a reason to be worried—they had history. What did she and Hyungwon have but distrust and suspicion?

“Why would you be scared?” she asked quietly.

When Hyungwon didn’t answer, lead filled her heart. It weighed her down and crushed her spirit, and none of it made any sense. It was like she was waiting for something though she didn’t know what; all she knew was that she kept being disappointed when she didn’t get it.

“That’s it,” the detective said, shaking her head as she turned toward the driver’s seat. “I’m tired. I’m just so tired of this. I don’t want this anymore, none of it. No more games, Chae. Not with you, and not with your family. Keys.”

He was at her side in a second, his hands held up imploringly. “It’s not a game. Bad things will keep happening, and I can’t stop them unless you come with me.”

Amber narrowed her eyes. “Is that a threat?”

“You don’t understand,” Hyungwon persisted.

“Help me understand!”

The vampire shook his head, his eyes tight with worry. “Answers will only lead to more questions, and none of that matters right now.”

“The only things that matter are those missing women, and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve found them.”

“Damnit, Ambrosia!” he thundered as his hand came down so hard on the car roof, it dented. “They’re not important. You are!”

It felt almost like the thing she wanted to hear yet also never wanted to hear again. She thought of Delphine, long dead but forever alive in her heart, and a tear slipped down Amber’s cheek. “Only a blood-sucking vampire would say something so cold.”

“I can’t change what I am,” he said softly. His big, dark eyes swam in the acid wash of dawn, and for the first time, Hyungwon didn’t loom over her but looked small enough to shelter in her arms. “But I can use it to protect the things that matter.”

Everything stopped in the stranglehold of the murky fingers of smoke beneath the firs. In the distance, garages squealed open and a bus trundled down Burnside Street. Behind them, firefighters shouted indecipherable orders and an ambulance wailed toward the hospital. It would be so easy to pretend she hadn’t heard him, but then she risked hearing him repeat it.

“What do you want from me?” Amber whimpered as more tears studded her cheeks.

“Nothing,” he said, his hand outstretched, “and everything.”

She felt a stirring deep in her chest, like a dragon slowly waking. The tears slowed, but they didn’t stop as Hyungwon pressed closer, once again the striking creature she’d always known him to be.

“Just stay with us,” he said as he circled her, his fingers dragging around her exposed collar. “You can have your own room. You can sleep in as late as you want. Minhyuk will make you laugh. Kihyun will make you breakfast. I'll make love to you over and over again.”

Love…

It was a word she couldn’t picture ever leaving Hyungwon’s beautiful lips, but now that it had, it was all she could focus on. He meant sex, she knew that—that’s what it was, that’s all it had ever been with any of them—but the stain of those letters lingered like tattoo ink, and a moment later, he pressed them to her throat as a promise.

Amber hadn't realized she'd been leaning into him until one of his long fingers caressed her pulse right where he had kissed it.

“Stay.”

The word reverberated in her chest until all of her vibrated with it.

She turned in Hyungwon’s arms until she was face-to-face with him. He looked so hopeful, his mouth parted eagerly and his eyes wide and bright. She shifted her weight onto her tip toes and lurched forward, her lips a hair’s breadth from that luscious freckle bullseye on his.

“Amber…”

It came from behind her, from the same shadows where Hyungwon had emerged, as a croak or more like a wet belch, grotesque and terrifying and yet somehow familiar, something she had heard shades of in her last dream. The detective swiveled in the vampire’s arms and found a hunched silhouette stumbling down the road toward her with dark purpose. The sun hadn’t yet crested the top of the trees, but the light was strong enough to see the face of the rasping creature.

“Eric!” she screamed, the rest of the world long-forgotten around her.

Her best friend collapsed the moment he heard his name, and Amber flew to his side nearly as fast as Hyungwon had to her car.

“Eric, oh my god!” she cried, huddling him in her lap. “What happened?”

His face was barely recognizable beneath the smears of dirt and blood, and his eyes were blank, nothing like the sharp, teasing barbs they always were. His shirt was torn down one shoulder, and as his hand fell away from his neck, Amber understood why. Blood spurted from a gaping hole, baptizing her in horror she’d only thought she knew.

Her scream left her lungs with the ferocity of a fire siren. She screamed so loudly her teeth rattled and her ears rang. She screamed until front doors opened and people raced onto their lawns. And when she finally ran out of air, she did it all again.

Eric clawed loosely at Amber’s wrist, and she stopped just long enough to listen.

“He—”

“Shh,” she soothed as she pressed part of her shirt into the wound and wiped Eric’s brow with her hand. “The paramedics are right around the corner. They’ll be here in a second. Save your strength, you chucklehead.”

His voice faded with a last desperate call of her name though his mouth still moved, making the same pathetic gurgles that Delphine’s had in her dream. Amber bent down, her ear to Eric’s lips, to catch the softest whispers hiccupping out of his torn throat.

“He’s… a… vampire…”

Amber’s hand tightened around the staunch at Eric’s neck. “Who is? Who did this to you? Was it Hyungwon?”

Beneath her fear and her rage bubbled something bitterer than she had ever tasted, something cold and violent and all-consuming. It squashed her soul like a granite boulder—immovable and unavoidable.

Betrayal.

But Eric said nothing anymore. His eyes closed just before a brigade of firemen and paramedics descended on the pair of them and ripped them apart like atoms, and the reaction was just as cataclysmic.

Amber felt like a part of her soul had been strapped to the stretcher across from her, and she was being forced to let it go. Words filtered in and out, like a frayed audio cable that worked only when it wanted to.

“—in shock.”

“—lost a lot of blood—”

“—transfusion—”

“Now, now, now! Go!”

Another siren wailed as plaintively as Amber’s heart, and the moment it was gone, she felt hollow. Her eyes surveyed the bedlam reflexively, seeing everything but comprehending little. Lucas was back, as was Shownu, amidst a tidal surge of strangers—some in robes, some in suits, some old, some children, some helpful but all voyeurs, and all staring as blankly as she was. But amongst the churning sea, there was one face missing.

Chae Hyungwon.

[ronwae]

childhood au

so i'll try to reconstruct what Ralphies life as a kid was

a few facts from the game that we know:

* is younger than Nicky ( if Nicky is about 28/27 i imagine Ralph to be about 25/24 ) meaning that if Nicky immigrated w his relatives as a young child Ralph was probably already born in the US.( this could be the reason why in ch.1 he talks about being a real newyorker and makes fun of mc about it)

* Was abused (probably for the entirety of his childhood) by his alcoholic mother

* His father left him ( he says :" he went to get a pack pf smokes one day and never came back" this gives me the feeling that he would be at least 5/6+ years when that happened.

* Got into street fights and probably lost since once again he says " beat me up as bad as the boys" meaning that he was THE VICTIM HELLOO??

* there is also a small dialogue in ch.1 where it's mentioned that he always skipped school and probs stopped going there pretty early

* it's obvious that he lived in some gutter idk how to rephrase this

* was always close to nicky from the early childhood " we were the closest"

* one memory that Nicky narrates to us is making paper boats for Ralph and letting them sail on rainy days

* in spite of this we are told that Nicky never showed Ralph much affection, for example when Nicky is being sweet to mc he replies with "i've never seen him act like this"

* and in another line he says " i don't need nobody to stick their neck out for me" so yeah, he's been left alone and neglected for a while

Actual Childhood

i will compare Ralph with Nicky throughout this whole text and make a point about being very different.

1. His relationship with his mother

As long as Nicky had part of a more loving(normal) mom, Ralph clearly was less lucky. Literally being on his own with an alcoholic. Which resulted in him feeling unloved and running from home and getting into gang stuff. By always being belittled and beat by his parent, this usually results with the person later in life having big problems with aggression, this explaining why he likes being a criminal and jokes about others dying( this being a possibility to release all that anger from his childhood).

At the same time another prominent characteristic of his is the thing where he always does what he's told. We see this when he says that "Nicky taught him this and that" and also in that scene where he & Floyd sign documents. And there Ralph was right about not wanting to sign the deed to the speakeasy, but under Floyds pressure he literally breaks in less than a second. I explained this behaviour not by being simply " weak of spirit" or simply a loser, but the desire for approval, recognition and literally being patted on the shoulder for doing good. Since he's never been shown any kind of affection, he desperately tries to subconsciously earn it.

I think i should also add that by Freud( hate on me but this guy made a few good points) a mans relationship with his partner corelates with his relationship with his mother ( vice versa for women), so it makes sense why Nicky - with a loving mom found his soulmate, and Ralph didn't. ( i assume that he never had a long term relationship ). ( this is my personal theory)

2. His relationship with his dad

none🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥

3. His relationship with Nicky

now this one is just a continuation of point 1.

I've always felt some part of jealousy for Nicky. Maybe he got into crime because he always wanted to be like Nicky and even talked about living in Nicky's mansion after he takes his role. Im sure that he love's Nicky and feels bad for betraying him, but i understand why he'd do that. Maybe he tried to subconsciously prove to himself that he can make his own decisions but that turned out... well... bad.

But i imagine them both having a really good relationship, good un their own way.

And that point where they both mentioned that Nicky tried to prevent Ralph from joining the mafia, if i put myself in his shoes i would take that not as a way to keep me safe but a way to keep me from succeeding or always remaining in Nicky's shadow.

okay now for the actual actual childhood headcanons

* I feel like Ralph would be actually a pretty smart child. Besides being curious i feel that he'd say smart,correct and deep thoughts and not even realise that.

* He'd still have problems spelling and understanding basic math:/

* lived admiring rich people on the covers of magazines or in the movies

* was pretty much of a loner as a child and didn't have many friend except Nicky

* while Nicky was the lively, active and charismatic one, Ralphie would be the quiet kid until 12/13 yrs

* that meaning that he would usually be made fun of or beaten by older kids

* i don't think he'd fight back much, not with bare hands at least

* in general i think he'd despise actual fights, more of a gun/knife guy

* disliked Nicky's dog, or any four legged animal ( doesn't hate them but doesn't love either)

* birds on the other hand

* they always gave him hope and the desire to just be free and escape his home and everyone he knew. the same with sailing, loved the idea of just leaving alone into the open ocean

* irrational fear of death

* if there is a living creature that he loves more that birds it would be butterflies

* but no one knows that since he's embarrassed to admit it

* would create many problems as a child

* starting with the basic running from school up to setting someones hair on fire with a lighter

* mentioning the lighter, tried smoking at about 14 but nearly choked to death because of his asthma

* and because of asthma i think there would be multiple times where he almost died

* as a kid probably lived near a garage and spent most of his free time watching men repairing cars

* car obsession phase

* even started drawing them at some point and got pretty good at mechanical drawings

* dreamed of becoming a racer

* once told that to a girl he liked in like grade 4 and almost died of pride when she applauded him for his ambitions

* and his ambitions were always high

* the second he'd see or hear about something grand or fancy he'd add it to his mental list of wishes

* made friends with some local old guy who was very sarcastic and nihilistic and literally based his personality on that

* would have to get around life on his own and by that i mean that he sew his own clothes, made his own food, when he got lost -spent hours walking around new york until he found his street without asking anyone for directions

* at some point picked up smoking because even though at first it was death threatening

* at about 16/17 totally found himself in the "wiseguy" persona and at this point there wasn't a returning point

* had a couple of girlfriends but dated them for a month at best

YES I LIKE PSYCHOLOGY YES I WANT TO BECOME A PSYCHIATRIST AND I LOVE CHARACTER ANALYSIS

[hargrove-mayfields]

Just a Dream Away

Chapter 2/13 read here on ao3!

for the @harringrovebigbang!

~~~~

The news isn’t any easier to stomach after a whole night to think.

It was hard enough for Steve to cope with this decision on his own, but calling Susan on the phone and asking what she thought about pulling the plug on her stepson was next to impossible. Maybe it was just actually saying it out loud for the first time that made it so hard for him, but he was barely able to get the words out.

“Hello?” Susan sounds confused about getting a call so early on a Sunday morning.

“I need to ask you something.” Steve says quickly. Susan waits on the other end, but the words just won’t come out of his mouth. Steve is thankful she's at least more patient than her husband. “The doctors all think- and I wanted to ask you first even though I’m his representative- they think Billys not doing too good and that we should do some thinking about this but, you know he’s just been in there so long and-“

“I understand, Steve.” She isn’t going to make him say it, the words that had been tumbling around somewhere in his head since the very beginning, and he is thankful for it. “I think, if it’s time to let him go, I support that decision.”

“What about Neil?”

“This is not his choice to make.” Susan sighs, and says simply. She had seen the worst of Neils abuse and knew that, even though things weren’t always so bad, Billy wouldn’t want his dad to have any say in a decision this important had he been able to express his wishes. “You do what’s best for Billy.”

Steve thanks her and hangs up before he could break, her words threatening to ruin the promise he’d made to himself to stay strong. He repeated it over and over in his head that he was doing the right thing and there was no reason to cry or be sad.

He hadn’t caught a wink of sleep, something he was more than used to by now, but last night was especially hard on him. It had set in that he was going to do something impossible, the guilt and the heartbreak washing over him until he just had to give up on sleeping entirely. It felt like he was rushing Billy's death, no matter how much thought had actually gone into this choice of how much time into trying to save him, it would always feel like a spur of the moment decision.

But six long months don’t count as sudden. The countless nights and days dragging on as Billy only got sicker and sicker don’t count as out of nowhere. He’d been suffering and Steve knew that the whole time, he was just too scared to make the call that was sitting heavy in the back of his thoughts the entire time.

Billy was a healthy eighteen year old boy. If he wasn’t already gone, he would have woken up by now, or at least improved in the slightest. All signs pointed to him having given up the fight, or encountered some unseen obstacle keeping him unconscious. Either way, Steve has come to rationalize that it's not right to keep him around, suffering just so he could die later.

Because if he was really being honest with himself, there was zero chance of him recovering anymore, not a small chance or an unlikely one, but none at all, at least not fully enough that he’d ever be healthy or truly conscious or himself ever again, so this was for the best. Goddamn was that so much easier to say than to actually go through with though.

Steve could spend the rest of his life telling himself it was right, but he was going to meet Max and Susan at the hospital, and Billy was going to die. The boy he had fallen more in love with than he had ever been before, the boy he’d even promised himself to each with a ring they’d stolen from their mothers, was going to die.

Driving to the hospital the day before had felt bad enough, but today is worse.

Maybe one day he’d be able to see these last six months Billy spent in the hospital as a blessing, his second chance to get the closure he needed, to let Billy go peacefully instead of on the dirty floor of the ruined mall, but for now, he just felt miserable. Like all he’d done was extend his pain just to kill him anyways.

Pulling into the parking lot, he sees Neil’s truck and Nancy’s car. They were already out of their cars and waiting for Steve, Max hiding her tear stained face in her mother’s coat, and Nancy politely listening to something Susan was saying. She was only here to drop off Eleven, who had been back in Hawkins to visit Dustin on his birthday and wanted to come, and Lucas, who promised Max he’d be there to support her, no matter what he thought of her brother. What surprised them all though, was that Neil had showed up too.

He’s stood away from everyone else, arms crossed tight over his chest and a stone cold look on his face. Steve locks eyes with him through the windshield, and he can see something regret clear in Neils eyes. Maybe it was denial that things would ever get this bad that made him so insistent to not have anything to do with his son while he was sick, the idea that he’d come home someday and he could antagonize him then, but that wasn’t the reality of the situation, and perhaps that is exactly what brought him out today. Steve doesn’t feel bad for him either way.

As he kills his engine and gets out, Susan and Nancy shoot him an identical sympathetic look before the latter scampers back to her own car, wanting nothing to do with this situation. Nobody trusted Steve to drive their kids around anymore, and everybody else was busy but Nancy, so she had to drive the kids. Steve’s not sure if it’s the guilt from aiming a gun at Billy and pulling the trigger without remorse or if she still hated his guts as much as she did in high school, but again, Steve doesn’t care.

Nobody matters to him but Billy today.

The opposite wasn’t true, they were in return worried about Steve. Only a few nurses under a vow of silence and Heather who’d died with the secret ever knew about what he and Billy had, but everyone still understood how close they were, and knew that, other than Max of course, he’d be taking this the hardest.

They let him lead the way, but before they could go into room B-216, Susan stopped him with a delicate hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think I should be in there.”

“I think it’s better if you are.” Steve says, taking in a shaky deep breath, feeling strange comforting Susan of all people. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

A sob from Max echoes through the empty hallway, and that’s what does it for Susan, seeing that her daughter needed her support in there. She nods with a ghastly look on her face, and steps aside to let Steve enter the room first.

Instead of the chair where he usually sat, he sat on the side of Billy’s bed, and Max followed his lead to sit on the other. Eleven took the chair, Lucas sidled up behind Max, and Susan drifted to the corner by the window. Neil stood at the door with his arms still crossed, ever imposing. Steve just ignored his presence entirely.

A nurse had followed them into the room as well, stopping at the door with her little clipboard to say, “Whenever y’all are ready.”

They wouldn’t be ready for six more hours.

To Steve, that time feels almost more torturous than even Starcourt, than helplessly watching from across the room as Billy collapsed to the floor, because this time, he knew what was going to happen. That little gleam of hope he’d gotten when Max screamed that Billy was still breathing was not there this time. He still wasn't ready for what was going to happen now, but he supposes in a way, he should be grateful that it wasn’t the same, and he’ll have the chance to say goodbye.

Steve couldn’t speak for everyone, but he also used the time to think. About Billy, and who he had been, how much he had meant to Steve and the things he wanted in life. About all the things that led them to this moment, and everything that would come after.

It was mostly silent in the room, everyone just a little bit in shock, most of them crying at least once. But Steve swore up and down he was going to keep his composure, he would not let those kids, or his Billy, see him crack.

They make it especially hard to keep that promise though, knowing that Max was mad at him and that Lucas, who he’d never seen be anything other than headstrong and brave, even has a tear on his cheek, and when El is shaking and holding back sobs and Billy is going to die. It feels like he is underwater, with each beep of the heart monitor sinking further and further from the surface, away from his friends and from Billy.

He is in shock too, he guesses. All he can do is focus on Billy. The barely there freckles scattered across his nose, the arch of his lips, the tattoo on his shoulder, his golden curls and his long eyelashes. He wishes he could see the pretty blue eyes underneath.

Somebody says his name, he isn’t quite sure which of them it was. He feels himself turn his head in their direction, but his eyes are glued to Billy, taking in every little detail of his lover before it was too late. Before he’d never see his face again.

At one point, Susan checks the time and suggests they all go down to the cafeteria for a little break, but nobody, including her, moves at all. They all knew the longer they waited to pull the plug, the closer they got to not doing it at all. Steve kind of hopes that will be the case, that they will just keep putting it off and putting it off until visitation hours end, and they’ll have to come back the next day, and the next, and this won’t ever have to happen.

That wouldn’t work though, and in truth, he doesn’t really want it to. They are ready, and so is Billy.

At 5:30, Steve gives Max a look, and she nods sharply, a tear dripping off the end of her nose. He leans forward, and presses the orange call nurse button.

A solemn lady he doesn’t recognize, Billy's doctor probably, knocks on the door and comes in. She asked if they were sure, bringing along even more papers for him and Susan to sign about what would happen to Billy afterwards and to give written consent to pull the plug so they wouldn’t be able to open a case against the hospital for Billy's death.

She explains to them it might not be immediate, that he could live for hours, or even days without the support before he dehydrated or suffocated, but they didn’t think it would come to that. Although his heart had only really been grazed by the initial injury, it was getting weaker with every day that passed, the medicine they pumped into his body slowing its rate, ruining the muscle, and it was estimated that he probably wouldn’t make it through the night, if even for that long.

She worked around Steve and Max, removing IVs, tubes, anything that was artificial, and then it was time to wait. Immediately his heart rate slowed, and Steve felt himself starting to panic, thinking that this was already going to be it, but it plateaued and kept going steady.

Susan’s quiet voice comes from the corner, “Do you think we should talk to him?”

The doctor smiles artificially. “I think that would be the best thing you could do.” She takes the papers back and leaves.

Nobody wants to be the first to break the quiet.

El still struggled too much with her words to say anything, especially since she hadn’t had much practice with something like this. Her dad had been ripped away from her too, without so much as a goodbye. Loss wasn’t something she could articulate, so in the place of words, she holds Billy's hand in her right, and Max’s in her left.

Lucas had his hand on her back, rubbing circles there to calm her down. There were tears streaks on his cheeks, probably from seeing the girls so torn up, but he really didn’t know Billy, and he was uncomfortable enough with Neil looming. He didn’t have anything to say to him, and they all understood that.

It was hard for Max to think of anything to say, every emotion too strong within her to pick one thing to say. She was devastated, that her brother was going to die and she hadn’t been there with him every moment, and angry, that Steve got to make the choice whether he got to live and that her step father was in the room, and somewhere under the surface, relieved that Billy wouldn’t be suffering anymore. It was her best friends’ silent support that gave her the courage to speak up.

“I was supposed to say goodbye to you when you left for work that day, but I didn’t because I was being jerk and I was mad at you for something dumb. I guess this is my chance though so.. bye Billy. M’gonna miss you, or really I already do ‘cause, you know... I'm sorry for not being a good sister, but I don’t think you would’ve liked me if I was.” She chuckles wetly, a sob disguised as much at least, “I love you, bubba. I'm sorry.”

Silence blankets the room except for her sniffling, and Steve knows it’s his turn. Before he’d got there, he was planning out things he could say that would sound as platonic as possible, anything to try to save his image in front of the kids and Billy's parents apparently, but he scraps it all in the moment. These were the last moments he’d ever spend with his Billy, he couldn’t care less anymore who knew about them or not. He just needed him to know how much he loved him.

He wishes he had just a little more time to think, but Neil and Susan have nothing to say to Billy. Figures. Quite frankly, Steve is glad they hadn’t said a word either.

Billy and Susan never got along. He admitted he didn’t blame her for being complacent in his father’s abuse, but he still found it hard to move past her standing idly by while he was getting hurt. He had once swore when he’d turned up at Steve’s front door with a broken wrist that he would never forgive her for just standing by. It was for the best, Steve thinks, that she didn’t speak now.

Then there was Neil, never a man of many words, but Steve thinks he might’ve needed a second hospital bed if he’d opened his mouth. He was in some part okay with the fact that he was here, Billy would’ve wanted him to be present, but he drew the line at him opening his mouth. That man had tortured Billy, had put all kinds of terrible motions in his head about love and his worth and a thousand other things that left Billy confused and hurt, so Steve wholeheartedly blames him for his son's fate. Believes it was Neil and what he’d done to him that made Billy give up the fight.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Steve moves up the bed closer to Billy, and takes his hand in his. He bites his chapped lips and thinks long and hard about what he wants to say, leaving out all the bad, depressing things he could say. He got to choose what his last words would be to Billy, and he would be damned if they weren’t going to be positive.

“Bill, where do I even start? You’ve been so brave. I promised you you would become something great, and you did. You were our hero, but I’m so, so glad I know you as more than that. Because you were, you were an amazing older brother, a determined kid who could have had anything he wanted in life, and you were my partner.” There's a collective intake of breath, a sniffle from Max, and Neil leaves the room entirely, but Steve keeps going, “I’ll have the memories we made forever, and I will hold onto them as dearly as I have you all this time. I love you. I will always love you, Billy.”

The whole time he’d been speaking, his eyes had been flickering back and forth between the heart monitor and Billy’s face, checking for any sign that he could hear him and that they were doing the wrong thing, but there was nothing. Nothing but his too-slow heart beat droning on and on, maybe faltering more often than it should.

Steve knows that means it’s time to let go, so he finishes, his throat tight and his hands shaking, saying what he’d been fearing he’d have to since the very beginning, “You’ve fought hard enough, baby. You can let go.”

Twenty minutes later, at 6:19 on Sunday, January 25th, William Reuben Hargrove took his last breath.

Steve felt Max sob so hard that the bed shook, then stand up and throw herself into Lucas’ arms, and he heard Susan gasp and saw her cover her mouth with her hand and put her shaking hand on El’s shoulder. He heard a nurse open the door so far and so fast it hit the wall, but he didn’t really comprehend any of it. Deeper and deeper he continued under the water, sinking away from this reality he wanted nothing to do with.

He’s still clutching Billy's hand like his life depends on it when Susan says from behind him. “It’s time to go, Steve.”

But he can’t move. Some force is keeping him sitting in that bed next to Billy. His legs won’t work and his hand wouldn’t let go and he regrets this, just knows he can't leave him there alone. The kids are already herded out of the room, all in a huddle out in the hallway as they try to dry their tears.

The nurses wait patiently, heads down and hands crossed politely, for Susan to get Steve out of there, so they could then get Billy out too.

Steve is in shock though, and if it weren’t for the staff and his friends, he probably could, or rather would, stay there indefinitely. He was so distant from what was actually happening, that he hadn’t quite taken note of how quickly Billy had started to go.

Already the color is gone from his lips, and his hand, still held tightly in Steve’s, grows colder by the second. He’d been so weak already, it didn’t take very long at all, and they really don't think Steve should see him like this, lest the images of Billy in life be corrupted.

Susan puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and it was as though he was brought back to reality. Looking up at her with his brown eyes wide and teary, he stands up. He looks back to Billy and gasps softly, stepping forward to press one final kiss just to the side of Billy’s lips, and turns to leave.

Where Susans hand is pressed into the small of his back, she can feel him shaking. As soon as he is out of the door, Max pulls him into a hug tight enough he feels like he could break.

“I had no idea.” She sobs into his shirt, “I’m sorry.”

“S’not your fault.” Steve answers numbly, a lump in his throat.

Max clings to his side, sniffling as they take the stairs down to the first floor. Steve keeps his head down, hating the sympathetic looks they were getting from the staff and from the people in plastic waiting chairs watching them as they left the hospital.

He’s halfway back to his car when Nancy, who’s been waiting to drive Max's friends back home, stops him, offering, “Let me take you home, Steve.”

He looks, and the kids are already loading up into Susan’s truck, and Steve wonders vaguely when they’d discussed this arrangement. “What about my car?”

She had already walked him to her brand new Honda CRX, a gift from her mother in case of an emergency, and opened the door, not taking no for an answer, “You can come back for it tomorrow.”

So he just lets her drive him, too numb to argue or really to drive himself. They pull into his driveway, and he mumbles out a thanks and tries to leave, but she puts her hand on his. “Listen, I don’t think you should be alone right now Steve. I can stay or I could call Robin for you if you’d like.”

“I’ll be alright, Nance.” Steve assures. Neither of them believe it.

“Are you sure, I-“ Nancy starts, but he gets out of the car and closes the door in her face, leaving her to debate with herself whether she should try to stay and force him out of isolation, or if she should leave him to grieve in privacy. Hesitantly, she chooses the latter.

Steve and her are not as close as they used to be, for reasons she does regret dearly, and she knows her company isn’t going to be what he needs right now. Staying in her car, she waits until his front doors shut behind him, and leaves, all the way home wondering if she’d done what was best for him. Ironic, that already people were worrying for Steve in the same way he alone had for the dead boy.

Back at Max’s house, Max goes straight to Billy’s room, taking initiative to claim everything in his space before Neil could come in and throw it out. She had heard about how when Billy’s mother left, Neil had gotten rid of every last one of her belongings, leaving nothing behind for his son but the picture of his mom he kept in a locket around his neck, the one he was still wearing even now, and her ring, which was already safe with Steve. She was going to make sure Neil wouldn’t touch a thing in that room, not even to dust it if she had her way.

Susan is occupied with trying to talk through what had happened at the hospital to her husband, excuse the part where Steve had outed them, watching in frustration as he remained entirely indifferent. It was only on the surface, just as it would be for any father, but still, he’d been so terrible to his son for so many years, he knew he didn’t have the right to be upset. He’d almost been the cause of Billy’s death enough times that, now that it had actually happened, it didn’t leave him devastated in the way it should’ve.

Steve on the other hand, he didn’t get that luxury of only caring with half of his heart. His whole world had been turned on its head, and he’d just lost the only thing that was keeping him going trying to get it back upright. All he had to look forward to was visiting Billy and the prospect of him waking up one day. Now that would never happen. Billy was dead.

That still hadn’t really sunk in, and some small part of Steve wonders if it ever would. Because he knows in his head he’ll never step foot in that hospital again, and that he’ll never have a reason to get ready at five o'clock on the dot every morning and drive to the hospital to stay until ten at night, but it didn’t feel real.

He throws himself down in a random armchair, a half empty bottle of whiskey already on the coffee table in front of him from the night before. He has to remind himself this isn’t that same old routine, that he’s drowning his sorrow and mourning in alcohol instead of getting the liquid courage to do this again in the morning.

The phone rings twice, but he doesn’t answer it either time. He listens to it ring and ring and ring in a tone that's so disgustingly familiar to his ears after waiting up every night and day to calls from the hospital, but he stays where he was. It was just Robin calling to check on him, but he doesn’t want to talk to her, or anybody for that matter.

Billy is dead. And Steve is ruined.

~~~~

At 6:20 on Sunday, January 25th, Billy Hargrove wakes up.

The last thing he remembers is the Camaro swerving off the road. His head was bleeding and he thinks he called the cops, but everything after that is a blank.

He realizes after he blinks away the blur times in his eyes, that he’s in the hospital, which isn’t much of a surprise, he had hit his head pretty hard and now there's a huge gap in his memory. In his time he’d had enough concussions from playing sports and being roughed up by his old man to know he was at risk for something like this, but it still makes him wonder, how long had he been out for?

The room is freezing, and it looks like it’s snowing outside. He’d crashed his car in June, or was it July? The fourth maybe? He remembered fireworks, but not much else. His dad was supposed to take them all to the festival. Why hadn’t they gone?

He decides, ignoring the sinking feeling that soemthing was wrong, that he’d probably walked away from the car crash, but then one of his stupid hick friends probably blew him up with a fire work or something idiotic like that. The dull pain in his chest would certainly attest to that.

But one thing that can’t be explained is why, despite potentially being out for months now, he isn’t hooked up to anything. As a matter of fact, there is nothing even on for him to be hooked up to. The monitors are completely silent and the ventilator is cracked. Hell, even the lights are off.

Nobody’s here to visit either, not even a nurse to attend to him. Billy knows the trust between Max and him is still shaky, and his parents don’t give a shit, but the fact that even Steve isn’t here confuses him. Makes him wonder for a moment if he’s dead, and this is some strange afterlife he's bound to because he went out with some unfinished business.

He quickly rules that out though, because he can feel the overwhelming cold, the stiff sheets beneath him, and he can hear the wind through the open window, the distant chirps of whatever creatures lurked in the woods that seemed to surround everything in this damn backwoods town. Maybe that’s only because he’s in denial.

He stands from the hospital bed, walking slow on his feet, every muscle in his body aching like he hadn’t done this in a long time, over to the window to see if maybe he could see the parking lot and check for his dad's truck or Steve’s bimmer. It’s then that’s when he realizes this is not just a normal hospital room, albeit somewhat poorly lit, because the window isn’t just open, it’s totally shattered, jagged shards of glass in its frame and scattered on the once pristine floor tiles. Through the hole there are thick black vines that twist around every corner of the room, spreading out over the far wall and wrapping around the hospital equipment, the chair in the corner, all the way to the legs of the bed, like whatever these weird plants were had broken through the window and were slowly taking over the room.

With a shudder, Billy wonders if maybe they would have eventually overtaken him too.

He decides he’s not going to stick around and find that out for himself, so he ditches the hospital entirely. There’s no reason sticking around in a place that felt so, so full of death.

Making his way through the halls, this place is definitely abandoned. Not a single other patient or doctor around, just more flickering lights that reveal even more of the rot and death that he could see from his room, and what had looked like snow outside filling the corridors inside.

Walking out of the hospital is even worse, the entire town seeming like it had just up and emptied out. It’s so dark, no moon or stars above to light his way. Everything is plagued with rot, those same vines from the hospital window taking over absolutely anything they can. From houses, to cars, to the actual roads. There’s no way there is anyone still surviving out here, so what the hell is he doing here?

Of course, there’s nobody around to ask what’s going on, the streets totally empty save for the occasional sound of echoing footfalls in the distance, and more of that chittering he heard before. He assumes it’s just animals, but it's unsettling, to say the least, this feeling that as he wanders the empty town he’s being watched, but he doesn’t let it get to him and he pushes on, looking for answers.

First thing, he has to figure out wherever this hellish place he'd been shipped off to after his accident is, and how the hell he was supposed to get home from here.

The streets are vaguely familiar, which doesn’t mean much, he’d driven through and stayed in countless towns for three days to get to Hawkins from California, but the extent of damage to the town, and his head, makes it nearly impossible to really recognize where he is. At least that is, until he stumbles upon a convenience store he knows for sure he’s been to before, and recently.

He used to buy cigarettes here every Tuesday, Fridays too if he was having a bad week. When nobody could be bothered to go all the way to the next town for groceries, Neil would send him and Max down to that little convenience store with fifty bucks, so there was always a little extra left over he'd pocket for later, or to buy Max candy with.

Last summer he remembers breaking in after dark, broken glass and blood all over the floor tiles, looking for somebody. Somebody he was supposed to kill. Wait, what?

His head hurts just thinking about that last one, memories in his head he can’t begin to understand, so he moves on. Adds that to the checklist of the many things he didn’t understand right now for later. There were more pressing things to worry about right now.

As sure as he is that he’s alive, he begins to have his doubts when he finds the newspaper displayed out front of the store, kept behind cracked and foggy plastic. The only reason he initially thinks of it is to check the date, see if there were any front page stories about the world ending or a bomb dropping on their small town or something, but what he finds instead only makes it all even more confusing.

Because on page four of the paper, he reads his own obituary.

Beneath a small copy of his senior portrait, it reads the usual, that he died on the 25th of January, that was hurt in a fire on the Fourth of July and succumbed to his injuries, where he was born and who his surviving family members were. None of that makes any damn sense to him though, because again, he’s pretty fucking sure he’s not dead. Either way, his funeral is being held next Thursday in the church Susan dragged them to on Sunday’s where he’d been barred from attending after someone at the high school (Tommy, he’s 100% sure it’s was fucking Tommy) let slip that Billy Hargrove might have a taste for dick. He tears the obit out of the paper and pockets it for later. Maybe he’ll be able to find answers there.

There has to be some mistake. Something really bad happened here, so who was updating the papers in the middle of what looked to be the damned apocalypse? And who would lie about him being dead when he’s the only damn person left seemingly in the entire city?

The one, and probably only, good thing about this situation is that he knows his way home from here, so he decides that’s his next goal. He might have no idea what’s going on, but home is still home, and he definitely could use some comfort right about now.

It would normally only be about a ten minute walk, but this cold is starting to get to him, the stabbing pains in his chest and back made even worse by the temperature, making it more like a half hour of dragging himself through the impossible dark back to Cherry Lane, wheezing and wincing all the way. Only when he does finally get home, he finds that it’s a complete disaster.

All of the windows are shattered, the whole front door is missing, everything he can see inside the house from carpet to ceiling is damp and moldy. It’s totally unlivable, but he still tries to call out for somebody. The thought of making it home just to find it completely abandoned, no signs of Max, who he knew somehow would know what to do, or anyone else around, was crushing.

So he tries, “Max?” Nothing. “Dad..?” Still nothing.

Any ideas in his head of hope were gone then. He was clueless and alone and hurting and fucking terrified about this entire situation the more he thought about it.

Whatever had happened, he knew he wasn’t going to just lay down and take it. He’d find his way back to normalcy, to his family and his friends and to Steve. God he missed Steve.

This hellhole isn’t any place for such a pretty boy, but what Billy wouldn’t give to have him by his side right now. But since he isn’t here, he tries to think instead, what would Steve do?

Well, the answer is that he would panic, but after that, he’d devise a plan. Though, a plan usually means that you have at least some idea what is going on or what you need to do, and Billy has none of that. He’s in some backwards version of Hawkins, apparently all by himself, in freezing his ass off and in pain. He figures the best thing to do right now is start with the little things, trying to fix any of those problems he possibly can.

The first he's just going to have to deal with, and the second, he’d already gone looking for people and nobody was anywhere to be found, so that wasn’t getting solved either. He can do something about being cold though, and he does, going off to his room, or what was left of it, to grab a jacket.

The second he opens the door he can tell that isn't going to happen though, there’s nothing in there but more decay. Everything but the bed and the couch are gone, and even that has been stripped of the sheets. Best he’s going to find in here is an old rotten blanket off the floor, so he closes the door and moves on.

Max’s room is next in the hall, and he’s not kidding himself about squeezing into his kid sister's clothes, so he keeps walking, pushing open his parents door. With his clothes missing from their place, he has no choice but to hope his dads haven’t been cleared out too.

Instantly he can tell their room is thankfully less destroyed than his was, the closet at least far enough away from the window it hadn’t really been damaged at all yet. The entire house is still basically a cesspit though, and some of the clothes are unsalvageable. He grabs whatever he can out of there anyways, saving a wool coat, a lined flannel, some denim, and his dad's army jacket.

He has to swallow his pride, which isn’t all too hard when his teeth start chattering from the cold, and put on the bomber jacket Neil had favored last winter, between arguments the one thing he and his dad had agreed on being that Hawkins was way too cold and that Susan was crazy for picking there to move.

It’s familiar and it’s warm and it makes him want to throw up. Makes him wish that even if his dad would probably be kicking his ass right now for wandering around aimless and scared instead of winging it like a real man, that he was here by his side. Just to have someone he knew in all this mess to make things a little easier.

Next thing to worry about once he’s done being misty eyed about a stupid jacket, is the intense aching in his body, more than what he’s used to even after ten years of hair trigger beatings, so he finds the bathroom next in the shell of his house, opening the medicine cabinet to check for some kind of painkillers.

They’ve got plenty between all the injuries that happen in this house, and Susan’s Valium addiction, but that’s something only he knows about, but there’s too much moisture in the air though, and the pill bottles are all full of something sludgey that he’s not putting anywhere near his mouth. All he gets from the bathroom is a dull ache at the front of his skull, and more detached memories like the one at the store, this time of the girl he killed.

Her blood is still on the cabinet, just above the door knob too. The memory of her wide brown eyes and screaming, so much screaming sits heavy in Billy’s mind. Had he done that? Heather was his best friend, there’s no way he would have ever hurt her.

He shakes his head, chasing those thoughts from his mind. If he was unsettled before, now he’s officially freakies the fuck out. Already in a strange place, now his body is wracked with phantom pains he couldn’t explain and memories that didn’t belong to him, leaving Billy feeling like a stranger in his own skin.

What the hell had happened to him?

[prorevenge]

Bridezilla Karen ends up looking like a pauper at her own wedding.

I (F48) have known “Pat” (F48) for decades. As far as I can remember, she was fixated on having 5 children and a picket fence dream life. I slowly cut ties with her in college because she was an opportunist and I didn’t trust her. She is both manipulative and forceful. Her idea of cute rubs me the wrong way. Pat likes to walk like a penguin when she wants to elicit pity, and she usually does this when she wants to evoke the underdog narrative. I’ve never seen someone act so despicable and ridiculous at the same time.

I moved on with my life. Happily got rid of her for years. Pat eventually found me on facebook. I accepted her friend request out of politeness.

Pat has become the epitome of a permissive mother. Her (5) kids do as they please and she never calls them out. She tried to force a relationship between me and her daughters and made them call me Auntie. Pat tried to drop them at my house uninvited. Her phone calls were insistent, she tried to monopolize my time and she began to show up at my job. I created some boundaries so she tried to find loopholes. It was a nightmare.

My husband and I hosted a party for the community center (not the real name) new members. The community center is actually a very informal initiative and my husband and I mainly serve the homeless population. We prefer to help strangers instead of catering to potentially narcissistic acquaintances. We don't mind lending a hand but we have encountered truly dishonest choosing beggars.

There are other services, like one of the members who helps women get their wedding and prom dresses for free.The community center location “headquarters” is actually a farm owned by an elderly couple. There is a barn, a venue and a very nice green field with an artificial lake and some fowl. They charge for the use of their facilities (weddings , etc.) but not for community oriented stuff.

Pat had always been salty at her husband for demanding that she go back to work after baby #3. In the meantime, he worked three jobs. She demanded he get her pregnant to fulfill her dream of having 5 kids. He didn’t agree, because he was already nearly 45 and felt like he might never be able to retire. She got away with bringing new babies into this world anyway. Her fascination with being pregnant comes from all the attention she gets. She had at least one miscarriage in between each kid.

Pat latched on to our group. She never missed any of our activities. I hated having her in my house, but it was an open invitation that included virtually everyone and she was very active as an event organizer. I didn’t like the way her kids behaved. We have a designated area for parties and entertainment, but her kids ended up inside my bedroom. We ended up having to keep watch of them and enjoyed zero of our own party.

I called her days later to get my point across (regarding their overall behavior) but she completely cut me off and began talking about herself and said her kids wanted to come visit again and use our pool. I never answered that. I didn't want to say “no, I will not have your brats over”.

She also called me as summer was approaching specifically to let me know her middle daughter was bored and wanted to spend a WEEK at our home. I politely declined, citing that me and my husband have to work and cannot entertain guests. .

Pat paid no heed. Her kid called me on the weekend,calling me “auntie” and attempted to coax me by saying “Mom says you invited me to spend SUMMER with you”. I quickly clarified, and offered an explanation to avoid hurting a kid’s self esteem. Nevermind. Her daughter just hung up on me.

Pat’s facebook also showed some red flags. Some cryptic rants here and there were visible, along with friends’ comments and complaints on how she asked a particular person to watch her kids only for a couple of hours and ended up leaving them all day. Another of her friends criticized her “girls night out “ because Pat had just asked them to be patient and wait until she could pay back some money that she owed them, yet she had money to spend on Friday night outings. I thought those very public comments on private matters were more like a cry of lost patience.

Unpleasant things began to happen. Like the time she volunteered to wrap the Xmas presents for underprivileged kids. We all wanted to create a mix of less costly gifts with really nice ones. Surprisingly, some nice and eye-catching toys and games went missing but turned up under her Christmas Tree (courtesy of her mother in law’s FB posts). No one could prove anything but it was hate-inducing. Or the time my daughter called me in tears to pick her up after she attended Pat’s daughter’s birthday (Casey). My daughter had been ignored all night because she didn’t gift her the expensive gaming stuff Casey practically demanded. My daughter did ask, but I said no. We would buy her a very nice and thoughtful present according to her taste. So when I went to pick her up my daughter was sitting alone in the living room while Casey and her friends stayed outside.

Stories about Pat and her family multiplied. The owners at the farm (community center) decided keep their their gates locked unless they had guests or events because Pat got in the habit of driving in whenever she pleased and it was either her kids screaming and disturbing on-going weddings, throwing rocks at the koi in the lake or harassing the geese in the yard. Or how she stiffed another soccer mom with the lunch bill and then pulled the struggling financially card. Or how other parents hated her because she created unnecessary hostile competition.

When my daughter turned 13, I allowed her to wear my grandma’s ring. It's not an expensive piece of jewelry, but it's vintage and girls nowadays wanna look boho. My Granny gave it to me when I became a teenager so I passed it on to my kid so she could wear it on her birthweek.

It was weird that she became quiet and distracted after that. She also didn’t want to go to school and my husband and I became suspicious. She never opened up, and my other kids had no clue.

We went to her school but her teachers assured us nothing had changed in her environment. My husband and I suspected she was being bullied but our kid gave us no tools to support her. My kid is very sunny, and very compassionate. She has never had any problems with other kids. I called her best friend’s mom. Natalie, my kid’s BFF, told us what was going on. Casey (Pat’s eldest) and my daughter had become “close”. I knew this and wasn’t too thrilled. I found the age (Casey was 17) gap not exactly inappropriate but I’d rather see my daughter spend time with friends in the same age range. Casey is very beautiful and a gifted student. She is also very conceited. To make this story short, she asked my daughter if she could try on the ring and refused to give it back. She later claimed that she lost it but “would look for it” so my daughter was distraught. My daughter kept asking for her ring and as a result, Casey shunned her and spread the word that my kid was trying to steal HER ring. Some kids at school took Casey’s side. So now Casey just wore my kid’s jewelry to school like nothing happened. If that doesn’t qualify as taunting I don't know what does.

My guilt comes from not being able to get my daughter to open up and feel safe telling me the truth. I talked to her and she burst into tears. I was both pained as a mother and furious that some teenage b!tch was doing this under our noses.

I went straight to Pat’s car after school. I asked to talk as Casey was about to go in. So I grabbed Casey’s hand and asked to see her jewelry. Casey froze and she tried to make a fist, so I became relentless. Casey yelled “Mom!” and Pat struggled to get out of the car. I slid the ring off (Casey has tiny hands and wore the ring on her index finger). First Pat yelled at me. After I confronted her with the engraving on the band (my grandma's maiden name), she argued it was loaned to her daughter by my kid. Then she said she bought it. I paid no heed. I did warn them that I knew Casey had become an abusive friend to my daughter.

Pat called me to tell me off. She said she was trying to raise an assertive young woman and I had just messed that up by being “overbearing”. She never apologized for her thief of a child.

Pat's husband ( Hank) is what can be described as a doormat. Pat wore him down to a knob. He had no choice but to “obey” her to keep the peace. She was a bully who actively withdrew affection when he didn’t follow her wishes, even in public. So she got kids #4 and #5 after a relentless campaign that included leaving him for two months. Her pregnancies were a nuisance because she expected to be treated like the only lady who has even been pregnant. She strolled around in a wheelchair almost immediately after getting pregnant and she would “get very sick” on weekends, so her kids were often sent to friends and family so that she could “rest”.

Pat systematically bullied Hank. She would leave town and take the kids with her. Poor Hank would look distraught, drinking on his porch or just looking really lonely. This is how she got off the hook and was able to leave her job. Hank had virtually no voice, so he struggled to keep the marriage together. Everyone liked him, but hated her equally. Hank loved to talk to other people but seemed concerned that Pat would be upset. Over time, according to my husband, Hank began to show signs of depression and mental distress.

Our friend, Lenah, runs the wedding/prom dress initiative. It's not complicated. Dresses are sourced from donations, ebay, trunk shows, etc. Unusually beautiful dresses are retained so that more than one bride gets to wear them. In some cases, a bride will pay 50 bucks, but most of the time, the dresses are donated to the bride.

Pat was involved in this. Lenah kept her in because they never had any issues and her task was limited to just shipping the dresses out.

Pat decided to renew her vows and her bridezilla Karenzilla attitude became the icing on the cake. For starters, she bullied another couple into giving up their wedding date at the farm because she “needed her renewal to match her exact wedding date”. They were not impressed with her harassment, so they booked another venue. As a result, the farm owners were pissed because Pat was already costing them money after she had successfully negotiated a cut in their rate “because she couldn't afford it but will repay by doing maintenance work around the venue” (she never made good on her word).

Pat became attached to a particular dress that was already assigned to another bride. Lenah made it clear that she would need to pay for her own dress. So Pat played it cool and shipped the wrong gown instead. She was adamant that it was the right dress, despite all the notes on Leah’s agenda. The other bride was truly gracious about it. She was obviously disappointed, but never made a scene.

What bothered me most is that I picked that dress and bought it for 40 bucks at a garage sale (not my money, Leah’s money). It was a vintage dress, ankle length, white with lots of lace and a huge bargain. Again, when confronted, Pat “did a Casey” and used the “this is mine” strategy. We felt so bad for the other bride that we did our best to get her something nice to wear. The other bride was a true fighter, she had pulled out of welfare, earned her high school diploma and was working to get on her feet by trying to earn a certificate as an acrylic nail technician. So, her reward was to have some Karen steal her dress? Pat never admitted to messing up, but just by the fact that she claimed it was her dress, we knew.

Lenah never allowed her in her warehouse again. Their last phone fight ended with Pat bringing up the other bride’s past (like it mattered) and “this conversation is over, it's my dress and you are mistaken”. That was weeks before the other bride’s wedding.

Pat went all out on her wedding decor. She spent way too much. She hired a caterer for some food (mainly mimosas and appetizers), but the wedding invitation included a request for specific dishes for her Sunday brunch wedding. Either she ran out of banquet money or was on a complete moocher mode.I picture the penguin walking upon practically asking everyone to supply her wedding reception grub and I cringe.

There is nothing wrong with potluck weddings. In fact, they can be a nice addition to a very cozy and family oriented wedding reception. But, don’t you need to at least be close to your guests in order to ask for such a thing? Even I got an invitation. I told everyone I wasn’t going because I was very uncomfortable being told what to bring and was probably expected to give them a cash gift on top of that. Some of the older ladies in our group agreed. Some said they would not decline in advance because she is a bully and they didn’t want a confrontation.

Lenah called me the night before Pat’s re-wedding. Lenah was there to close the Saturday night bingo and Pat was awfully friendly, but that’s what she does whenever things are going her way. Lenah peeked into the garment bag and saw the exact same dress while Pat was caught up supervising the wedding decoration.

The thing with Karens is that they expect everyone to suck it up, or make their dreams come true, or they simply underestimate everyone and think we are all fools.

Lenah is a very straightforward person with a “so sue me” attitude. She told me she would just ruin the dress. After all, it was hers, so she could do whatever she wanted. If Pat wanted to take legal action, and should things get ugly, she needed to prove ownership. However, the dress was the same, the marks inside the hem and the tags were the same. Even the tag numbers that were punched to identify each dress for logistics purposes matched.

Pat had the dress altered, with some extra beading and dyed to a deep cream color. But it was obviously the same garment. Lenah and I snuck in before the venue was closed for the night. All brides are allowed to stay in a small bedroom for a small charge, so that they don’t need to drive in on their wedding day. Honestly, the makeshift chapel was gorgeous, I don’t know how she paid for it but it was full of flowers and presumptuous details. I naively brought in some ink to spill on the dress, but Lenah said she wanted “something more awful, like a nasty surprise”. Ink would be too obvious and if she saw it ahead, she may be able to snag another gown from somewhere. No, the ideal thing was to have her trust the dress was fine. So Lenah locked herself in a bathroom stall and completely cut out the back panel. She patiently put it back on its hanger and zipped the bag. We left through the emergency door with the back of the dress stuffed inside Lenah's purse. I completely hate people who target and steal from anyone they (Pat and her kid) calculate to be in a weaker position.

The wedding was scheduled at 9 AM. Pat called me at 7 AM, but I ignored her calls. I picked up by 8 AM, both curious and wondering if she suspected anything. Pat was frantic.She was crying that her dress was “missing by half”. I purposely made her explain, being annoyingly dense and continually interrupting like she does, and stalling the conversation. She asked me if I could lend her my wedding dress. I said no, sorry. She then asked me if I would help her get a dress. I was satisfied to remind her that the town's bridal shops were closed on Sunday and the others that would open were almost an hour away. The farm is already almost one hour away from our town.

If Pat could get a shop to rent a dress, she would need to try the dress on, and get it steamed. Even if the dress was ready to wear, it would easily take more than two hours (roundtrip). She tried to ask me to go pick a dress (who would pay for this??). Even if a shop were open and brought her a dress, it would add to the cost. Also, these shops open at 10 or 9:30 at earliest. By time they got to her, it would be time to wrap up the wedding because she needed to clear the venue by 12:00 for the next event.

She broke down and mumbled some stupid stuff I didn't understand. So Pat hung up on me and called Lenah instead.. She asked Lenah to bring her “anything she had available”. Lenah and I ended up delivering the most outdated, moss smelling, oversized dressed. Pat’s disappointment was a mix between angry and emotional. She also tried to wear her knee length silk bridal slip as a wedding dress but it was too obvious and it really looked cheap. She tried to get her daughter to give her her own dress to wear with an open back zipper (due to fitting issues) but Casey refused, asking if she was supposed to attend the wedding naked (she got a point, plus Casey is petite).

The dress needed a petticoat to plump up the skirt, which wasn’t available. So it dragged all over the floor and Pat had to keep pulling it up. Pat walked down the aisle with one hand on her bouquet and another one grabbing her dress. The dress looked limp and weird with the arrangements of pins (they didn’t show) that caused the sleeves and neckline to pucker into messy rims. She spent the ceremony looking uncomfortable and out of place. Very few people attended but that was not part of any revenge, that was just how people reacted to her entitled attitude.

The dress looked awful. The reception portion of the wedding had all this princely decoration, a very nice cake and a bridezilla with a dress from hell. I didn’t stay, but I was told, she was so disappointed she spent her wedding sulking. There was no dance, no actual speech. She had to change into a shirt and leggings because the dress was too uncomfortable. Everyone talked about how Pat put on her flip flops and walked around aimlessly until she ordered the ushers to start folding up the chairs within one hour of the reception. So she practically kicked everyone out and the cake was never cut.

Pat wasn’t the same after this.She was not as loud and avoided everyone. I think she was disappointed that nobody ran to her rescue, not even her family who came from out of town.

Her husband finally cracked under all the pressure and sought some help. He was slaving away and coming home to clean the house while Pat used her kids as an excuse to spend like crazy. Hank also had to do kid homework because Pat never had time or never had patience. She also refused to get a partime job so her kids could attend an afterschool and get help with their school stuff. Therapy seemed to help Hank because the last time Pat left with her kids, he didn't seem distraught. He would be riding his bicycle and could be seen more relaxed while mowing his lawn. Hank told my husband that he had contemplated suicide after their third kid. When Pat returned, he maintained the routine but was interested in going out by himself and doing things for himself. We began to see Pat alone all the time. Hank was seen less and less in the same car and eventually moved in with his parents. He filed for divorce on the grounds of emotional cruelty and I don't think he won. Instead (I’m not sure of this because this is what I was told) there was some sort of a settlement or agreement that she would not get close or interact with him unless it has to do with the kids).

I also don’t know if Pat even actually suspected who/what happened to her dress. She slowly pulled away from the community center and became less active in social gatherings. Pat also removed me from her facebook as well as mostly everyone else from school and the center.

TLDR

Bridezilla stole a wedding dress from an underprivileged woman. The actual dress owner destroys her big day.

(source) story by (/u/forestcabin123k)

[thegayhimbo]

Bill Compton’s problematic relationship with Jessica Hamby.....

This is a post I’ve wanted to do for a long time because out of all the relationships on the show (aside from Sookie/Bill), this is one of the few that bothers me the most. It’s a relationship held up by fans to be this loving father-daughter dynamic. However, when I first saw the show, I was left cold by it, and never understood why people thought it was a meaningful relationship.

Having just finished my rewatch, I can understand why I felt like that: There are MULTIPLE MOMENTS on the show where Bill’s treatment of Jessica is neglectful at best and abusive at worst. Most of the time, Bill either treats Jessica as a burden or someone he can use, and he barely knows what’s going in her life unless Jessica brings it up to him. That’s also including that he’s lied to her, betrayed her, hurt her, refused to do his duty to her as a maker to her unless forced to (or unless he got some benefit out of it), kept secrets from her, and was NASTY to her at various moments during the show. It got to a point where I kept wondering if I was watching the same show as everyone else. It’s especially egregious since plenty of people talking about how this was one of the best relationships on the show (which it isn’t).

In this list, I’m going through all the instances where Bill’s treatment of Jessica ranges from neglectful to abusive. All of them span over the course of 7 seasons, so POTENTIAL SPOILERS AHEAD! The reason I am doing this is to highlight the issues with this relationship, and why I think it’s problematic that the show (and fans) treat this as a good relationship when it’s anything but. Without further ado:

1.) After Jessica gets turned into a vampire, Bill makes a half-assed attempt to get her to drink True Blood instead of teaching her how to feed properly and safely from a human. When this doesn’t work, he dumps Jessica with Eric.

2.) Bill proceeds to leave Jessica with Eric for two weeks (and makes not attempt to ever pick her up) until Eric comes back with Jessica and tells Bill to start doing his job as a maker. One has to question if Bill would have ever picked Jessica up from Fangtasia if Eric hadn't come.

3.) From the end of season 1 till season 3, Bill consistently treated Jessica like she was a burden and an embarrassment to him, even though Jessica was a teenager who needed help and support and wasn’t familiar with being a vampire.

4.) Bill wastes Jessica's time teaching her how to recycle when he should have taught her how to feed from a human. He knows that she can't live off of True Blood, and that she's going to have to learn to feed safely so she isn't a danger to others. He fails to do this for her.

5.) At one point, Bill slut-shames Jessica for her attire, and it's played for laughs instead of Bill being called out for his misogynistic behavior.

6.) When Jessica is kissing Hoyt, Bill grabs Jessica and violently throws her across the room even though she wasn't feeding from Hoyt. There is no reason that, as her maker, he couldn't have ordered her to stop, or just restrained her without using physical violence.

7.) Bill keeps secrets from Jessica (like his mission from Queen Sophie Anne) that puts her in danger. He never establishes a contingency plan with her if she came into contact with a powerful vampire and either needed to defend herself, get away from them, or hide from them. The result is Franklin Mott (a serial rapist) shows up at her front door and her life is almost put in danger because of it.

8.) Jessica is forced to get her first job on her own to make money instead of getting any help from Bill.

9.) Bill was set to release Jessica in season 3 despite being a newborn and barely having an idea on how to feed from someone safely. She also had no training to protect herself from other vampires or humans who wanted to harm her. This is basically the equivalent of a parent throwing their kid out of the house. It’s not okay that Jessica has to BEG Bill to be a proper maker to her because he was doing a shit job at it.

10.) Bill drags Jessica into a dangerous situation against werewolves and a 3000 year old vampire who almost succeeds in killing her. Bill knew she wasn’t ready after only one training session, and Jessica’s life was endangered because of his carelessness.

11.) After the fight at Sookie’s house, the last we see of Jessica is her being chased away by a werewolf. Not only does Bill NOT bother to check to see if Jessica is okay afterwards, he proceeds to have gross unappealing sex with Sookie in the middle of her destroyed house. It’s all about him and what he wants in that moment, and it’s like he completely forgets Jessica.

12.) Bill doesn’t ever tell Jessica the real reasons for why Sookie broke up with him (i.e. that he allowed the Rattarays to beat the shit out of her) and lets Jessica believe that Sookie was at fault for the break-up and that she was a bad girlfriend to him.

13.) Bill tells Jessica that she’s required to be honest with Hoyt even though he isn’t honest with her.

14.) When Antonia breaks free from Bill’s prison and plans to cast a spell that will force vampires to walk into the sun, instead of sending Jessica out of Louisiana to keep her safe so that she wouldn’t be targeted by Antonia’s spell, Bill keeps her with him for some unexplained reason.

15.) Bill refuses to completely silver Jessica when Antonia is about to cast her spell. This results in Jessica breaking free, killing a guard, and almost walking into the sun before Jason saves her. His neglect in that moment almost got Jessica killed AGAIN.

16.) Even after Jessica almost gets killed, Bill STILL DOESN’T SEND HER AWAY despite the fact there’s a dangerous necromancer on the loose who could target her and possess her. He even drags Jessica to Moon Goddess Emporium against Antonia/Marnie, and puts her in danger because of his recklessness. Jessica almost gets killed because of this, but the show never calls out Bill for it.

17.) When Bill and Eric are forced to go on the run from the Authority after killing Nan Flanagan, Bill calls Jessica and lies to her about everything being fine and not to worry. He doesn't warn her that the Authority is coming after them. This is actually dangerous for Jessica because if the Authority had failed to capture Bill and Eric before they left the house, they might have gone after Jessica to capture, torture, and interrogate her on Bill's whereabouts. And even though that doesn't happen, the point is that it could have happened because Bill refused to warn her.

18.) When Bill comes back to see Jessica later in season 5, he lies to her about still being King (which doesn't bode well for Jessica if other vampires try to take advantage of her), he doesn't really bother to check on Jessica to see if she's doing okay and just assumes she is, and he isn't truthful with her about what's really going on: That there's a good chance he and Eric may get killed either bringing in Russell Edgington, or that the Authority may still have them executed for treason. Either way, he withholds this information from her instead of having Jessica prepare for the worst.

19.) When Bill becomes Chancellor in the Authority and joins up with the Sanguinistas, he sends the Authority guards to forcibly escort Jessica to HQ (while also commanding Jessica as her maker to go with them) and tries to force Jessica to convert to the Sanguinista ideology whether she likes it or not. Jessica even pointing out this is exactly how her biological family behaved towards her. He also tries to keep her locked up and isolated to convert her.

20.) When Jessica begs Bill to let her warn Jason and Sookie about Russell and Steve coming after them, Bill refuses to let her go warn them, and makes it clear that he doesn't care if they get captured, tortured, or killed because he just sees them as food at this point. It doesn’t matter to Bill that Jason and Sookie are her friends and are in danger.

21.) In an act of petty cruelty, Bill bullies Jessica into turning Jason into a vampire against his will by sending two Authority guards to make sure she goes through with this.

22.) When Jessica returns after refusing to turn Jason, and later stands up to Bill, he gets physically violent and SMACKS HER clear across the room before having her imprisoned. What makes this worse is that there is no moment later on where he apologizes to Jessica for being abusive towards her. It's glossed over by the show.

23.) Bill leaves Jessica to die at the Authority, and it’s only when he realizes she’s alive that he summons her in the most painful way possible (i.e. she’s puking up blood and feels like she’s going to die if she doesn’t answer Bill’s summons). He later indicates he knows this was hurting Jessica and doesn’t care.

24.) He deflects any responsibility for hitting Jessica and imprisoning her by claiming he’s not the same person that did that. Again, there is no moment on the show where he apologizes to her for his behavior.

25.) Once he manipulates Jessica into staying with him again, Bill/Billith makes Jessica responsible for his emotional well being and his “humanity.” In other words, he knows he’s going to be doing awful things in the future, and instead of owning up to that, he’s making Jessica responsible for being a good person. That is abusive.

26.) He later tasks Jessica with dressing up in a sexually provocative way to kidnap a professor against his will. Putting aside how he previously slut-shamed her for having revealing clothing, it’s pretty gross that he’s now having Jessica participate in his crimes.

27.) He has Jessica lure Andy’s faerie girls to his mansion l(ike one of those creepy Unsubs from Criminal Minds) and tasks Jessica with keeping an eye on them. He makes no attempts to ensure the faerie girls safety, especially since Jessica has a history of poor impulse control. Not even an “As your maker, I command you not to feed on these faerie girls.” And then he leaves her alone with them. Shock of all shockers, Jessica loses control and 3 out of 4 of the faerie girls are dead.

28.) When Jessica is high on faerie blood and consumed with guilt over killing the faerie girls, Bill coldly tells her to sleep it off. He makes no attempt to comfort her or make sure she doesn’t do something stupid (since she’s drunk on faerie blood and not in a rational state of mind), nor does he make any attempt to give his blood to the other faerie girls in a possible attempt to revive them. He doesn’t care. He just found out about Warlow, which means Jessica’s guilt and the deaths of the faerie girls mean nothing to him. The result is that Jessica runs off to Jason’s for comfort, and gets captured by the LAVTF and sent to Vamp Camp. All because of Bill’s neglect.

29.) At the end of season 6, Bill goes off to do a 6-month book tour while he leaves Jessica behind to deal with the guilt of killing Andy’s faerie kids. There is no moment where he expresses remorse for his role in their deaths, nor does he make any attempt to help Jessica heal over the trauma and guilt of what happened.

30.) In season 7, when Bill finds out that Jessica hasn’t been feeding because she still feels guilty over what happened, and that she’s also offering protection to Adylin, this is what he says to her:

“So you are protecting Adilyn? And she is not feeding you in exchange for that protection?”

Not only is Bill completely unaware of Jessica’s mental and emotional state right now (because he’s that neglectful of her), but he lacks self-awareness about WHY Jessica doesn’t want to feed from Adylin: She’s the one that lost control and drained Adylin’s sisters. This idea that Bill perpetrates that Jessica’s relationship with Adylin should be a transaction where she only protects her in exchange for something is so revealing about what kind of person Bill Compton is: Every relationship is a pragmatic transaction for him. Bill only cares about other people when it is convenient for him. And he couldn’t bother to help Jessica when she was struggling with remorse over her actions whereas he felt no guilt over what he did.

What. An. Asshole.

31.) At the end of season 7, Bill opts to kill himself without caring about how this going to affect Jessica emotionally. Keep in mind that in season 4, Jessica had Bill promise not to ever commit suicide again (after he supposedly tried to do so when Marnie ordered him and Eric to kill each other). And once again, Bill breaks that promise because it’s all about him and what he wants. What makes this even more repugnant is he frames this as a good thing for both him and Jessica.

32.) In his final act of being an asshole, Bill pressures Jessica into getting married to Hoyt even though he doesn’t have his memories and they still haven’t worked through the issues that caused their relationship to fall apart in the first place. When Jessica expresses concern about this (since this is all happening too fast), Bill uses the death of his biological daughter (i.e. the same one he refused to save in that season 5 flashback) to guilt-trip Jessica into doing this marriage so that she’ll be “spoken for.” He’s basically shoving his patriarchal (and misogynistic) beliefs onto Jessica.

There are probably other moments that I missed, but the overall gist I’ve gotten from this relationship is that it’s one-sided, and that Bill’s treatment of Jessica is not only awful, it’s emotionally (and in some cases, physically) abusive. There’s this fanon idea that’s gone around for many years that Bill was this wonderful maker and father-figure to Jessica, which is NOT supported by what’s shown.

What makes this problematic is that the show tried to frame this like it’s a relationship we’re suppose to root for. Personally, I’m left cold by it. I can think of many other platonic relationships on this show (Andy/Terry, Sookie/Jason, Tara/Lafayette, etc) that were either better written, more heartwearming, or had meaningful character development that lasted. Bill/Jessica was not one of those. It’s bad enough that Bill’s an awful character who continues to age like spoiled milk, but this relationship he has with Jessica.........................it makes my skin crawl.

Jessica deserved so much better than Bill. She deserved a maker who actually put effort into their relationship with her (and not when it was convenient for them), and Bill deserved to be called out for his treatment of Jessica during the show. I HATE this relationship, and it’s one more reason why Bill Compton is one of the WORST characters I have ever seen on a TV show.

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 13- Icarus

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warning for very slight suicidal themes this fic has a happy ending I swear

Masterlist

Agony.

Losing you is agony.

Endeavor is lecturing him for pulling the stunt with Bakugo earlier that day but he can’t hear or really process any of it when all he can think about is the fact you’ve blocked his number and seem to want nothing to do with him. He vaguely registers words of “I told you so” and “I warned you” and even a word or two about a demotion but none of it matters. Hawks doesn’t know how to do anything but be a hero. It’s been the driving force behind a lot of the choices he’s made in your relationship and he knows it’s the same for you, but that doesn’t make any of this easier.

“You’re going to have to work really hard to earn my trust back Hawks and the trust of your coworkers,” Endeavor warns. “Understood,” Hawks replies, his voice almost detached. It seems to disconcert Endeavor, the other man being far more accustomed to the snarky Hawks persona than the serious man in front of him now. “Hawks, uhm, do you,” Endeavor stutters suddenly unsure. He coughs to cover his discomfort and clears his throat before resuming. “Do you need to talk about what happened between you and Artemis?” he finally manages to ask. He looks so deeply uncomfortable potentially talking about the subject and his discomfort only grows when Hawks continues to give him nothing back. “That won’t be necessary,” Hawks replies before turning and walking out of the office. If Hawks doesn’t know how to live without hero work, Keigo doesn’t know how to live without you. So his only option is to abandon Keigo until the pain stops.

He can’t have slept more than a handful of hours that night but he still wakes up early the next morning to run an extra patrol before his normally scheduled one. He files paperwork, even revisits old cases, all in a bid to keep you off his mind. Of course it’s not enough to stop his coworkers from whispering. Typically he ignores the gossip of the lower ranking heroes but it’s hard when he knows they’re speculating about you and him. It certainly doesn’t help that your break up was so public and now it feels like nearly all of Japan has watched the video of it happening. Hawks used to be the darling of Endeavor’s agency, beloved by all of his coworkers. Now he’s practically a pariah.

His new outcast status is only made more obvious at the cocktail party later that day. He’d wanted to skip it entirely, the fact you were supposed to be his plus one to the event made it all the more unappealing, but he’s already skating on thin ice and had no legitimate excuse to justify his absence. So instead he watches the other heroes talk and drink and laugh about things while he hides in the corner, too exhausted and heartbroken to put up the persona necessary to maintain conversation. No one seems to ask about him anyway or even care what he thinks despite the fact it’s his personal life that’s become the hottest topic in all of Japan. He wonders if this is how Icarus felt as he plummeted to the earth. Hawks had flown too close to your light and warmth and now he’s fallen from grace. He wonders if it’s true that Icarus laughed as he fell. If so he can empathize. As painful as this fall is, he would live it over and over if it meant he could catch even a glimpse of you again.

When Shoto comes to join him it’s literally the first genuine interaction he’s had all day. “You look like shit,” Shoto comments by way of greeting. “Thanks. Feel like it too,” Hawks replies. He doesn’t have to pretend with Shoto and for that he’s grateful. “Are you ok?” Shoto asks. “Even though I’ve always hated these things I was always so good at them,” Hawks starts in response. “I’d talk, drink, laugh just like everyone’s doing, be the center of attention, play the part of the charming number two hero. And look at me now. I’m so fucking anxious about what they’ll say about me, about her, about us and what happened that I can’t have a proper fucking conversation. I used to be on fire and now I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be and I’m just fading away. Without her I’m fading away. I’m just as pathetic as she said,” Keigo confesses and it’s a weight off but it also makes the hollow space behind his ribs where you used to live feel all the more prominent. “This right here is kind of pathetic,” Shoto starts, earning him a shocked almost laugh from the other man, “but you are not pathetic Hawks. I think (y/n) knows that, she’s just hurting. Rightfully so. The bullshit with the others in the agency will get better too.” “I don’t know about that one.” “You’re not the only one who’s done dumb or bad shit. Not by a long shot.” “Really?” “You know Iida?” Shoto asks, pointing to the man in question as he obliviously continues his conversation with one of the others present. “Yea. Your year at UA, stickler for the rules. What about him?” Hawks asks. “He chose his internship our first year with the sole intention of trying to hunt down and kill Stain to avenge his brother.” “Really? That guy?” “Yep. My dad isn’t so innocent either: quirk marriage, child abuse, oh the stories I could tell you.” “Jesus Christ.” “Exactly. Everyone has their own shit Hawks. This will pass and hopefully you and (y/n) can find your ways back to each other when it does.”

Shortly after Todoroki finishes speaking his phone rings and he frowns down in confusion when he notices it’s Bakugo calling him. “I didn’t think we had task force business today,” Shoto says as he answers the phone. “We don’t. Is Hawks there with you?” Bakugo asks, his tone betraying his worry. “Yea he is.” “Shit.” “What’s going on Bakugo?” “It’s about (y/n),” Bakugo admits and Shoto’s eyes widen. He casts a look at Hawks before finally deciding to drag the other man with him to an empty office on the floor they’re currently on. He locks the door behind them and then pops his phone on speaker. “Ok you’re on speaker with me and Hawks what’s going on with (y/n)?” Shoto asks, his voice remaining calm. “All Might fired her last night so she was supposed to come in this morning and collect her stuff except instead she pretty much just threw everything away. I came back to patrol and found out she’d left Midoriya and I little gifts on our desk which was weird, so I hit up her roommates and apparently she never went home after she swung by here. I thought she and Hawks may have run off together but if he’s with you...” Bakugo explains. “Maybe she’s just clearing her head or something,” Shoto suggests. “No way. The whole of Japan is gossiping about her right now, the last thing she’d want is to be out in public,” Bakugo quickly refutes. “Was there anything else off about your desks? Drawers opened?” Hawks asks. “Maybe, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Why?” Bakugo asks. “Your task force notes still there?” Hawks asks in lieu of an answer. Hawks and Shoto wait with baited breath as they hear the sound of Bakugo moving around and then opening a desk drawer. “Nope, they’re gone,” Bakugo finally reports back. “Thought so. (Y/n) wouldn’t just roll over and kiss her career goodbye, she’s probably trying to take out the terrorist cell herself and use it as leverage to get her job back,” Hawks deduces. “Alone? That’s a suicide mission,” Shoto says. “Hence the gifts on the desks,” Hawks replies grimly. “Most of our notes are over there with you guys though,” Bakugo points out. As if on cue an alarm starts blaring overhead warning of an intruder. “That’s gotta be her,” Hawks says. “I’m on my way, hold her there so we can talk some sense into that idiot,” Bakugo tells them before promptly hanging up the phone.

Hawks has to give credit where credit is due. As foolhardy as your plan is, it’s incredibly well executed. As a former member of the guest list, you would’ve known everyone would be occupied with the cocktail party on one of the lower floors, far away from where the files you need are. The elevators will take forever with so many people trying to all get upstairs which only leaves the stairs, which are marginally better but still relatively slow. You must have spent most of the night planning this out. That thought fills Hawks with a certain amount of dread. You’re probably emotional and sleep deprived on your way to take on an entire villain group yourself all in a desperate bid to save your career. It almost sounds ludicrous. Yet, as Hawks races to the top floor in hopes of catching you, all he can think of is something you’d once told him during happier times, late at night as you two were wrapped up in each other:

“Honestly Kei? I’d rather die a hero than live long enough to prove those stupid reporters right about me.”

Author’s Note: Does this still count as a double update if I’m posting the second one after midnight 💀 anyway I can’t believe how quickly I was able to get this chapter out. The image of Hawks standing in the corner of a massive company party feeling like a shell of himself is actually a large part of what sold me on writing this fic for him. The song this chapter correlates to just felt so right for his character that I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. I thought about waiting to post this until later tomorrow today? but I’m ✨impatient✨ so instead y’all get it now

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

[dragonmiryo]

I was 10 years old when I watched my first Fruits Basket clip. My childhood best friend showed it to me after having started watching the series in spring and I’ll never forget it. Episode 13, when the student council president starts bashing Momoji and Hatsuharu for their hair and outfits. It was the funniest thing I had ever seen and I wanted to watch more, so after getting permission from my mom (since I was still only 10 and there was cursing), we both decided to sit down and watch it on Netflix together. 

To say I fell in love with the series is an understatement; it had inserted its way into my heart and wasn’t leaving. From the funny moments, the sad ones, and the wholesome ones, Fruits Basket had something that 10 year old me had never seen in shows before: emotional rollercoasters and meaningful messages in almost every episode. I rewatched Fruits Basket constantly, going back to my favorite episodes when I needed a laugh and watching several episodes in one sitting just because I could. Come summertime, I found out the manga had much more story than what was in the anime, so I started collecting.

There was a bookstore we discovered that had a ton of manga, and so often when we had the time, we’d go there to see what we could find. From there I started collecting Fruits Basket, Ouran, Sailor Moon, and even Naruto. We’d go frequently to see if any new manga were there, to see if there was a volume that hadn’t been there previously. It was out of order sometimes and it took years to finally collect them all, but I was persistent. Fruits Basket had become my favorite series and I was determined to get every volume.

It wasn’t until I was sixteen years old that I finally completed my collection by buying the last volume (which was every expensive and since I didn’t make much money, I had to either save or wait until Christmas and my birthday). Finally, the story I had been reading and waiting to finish for six years had come to an end and I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. It was the end of an era for me and I was left fulfilled and yet saddened that we didn’t get a full anime series for it.

Then, not even a week later, I was scrolling on an old website I used to use to get kpop news called JpopAsia to see how much it had changed. I hadn’t used it since I was barely fifteen, so I was curious about it. As I scrolled and looked at the news, I noticed three familiar figures and a headline that said: Funimation Announces Fruits Basket Reboot.

To say I was ecstatic would be an understatement. I read the article, unable to to believe that it was really happening, and looked up several other news sources that confirmed it to be true. It hadn’t even been a week ago that it was announced. I screamed and ran to my mom to tell her the news and we both new we had to download Funimation so we could watch it. Even my dad agreed to watch it with us after seeing how excited we were.

Now I’m nineteen years old and the reboot has reached its finale. After almost ten years of being a fan and waiting for a reboot that I never thought would come, it has ended. I watched my favorite manga series turned into a full anime and watched it to completion. And I couldn’t be any happier.

It was everything I loved about the series animated before my very eyes, with the voice actors from the original anime saying the lines out loud instead of me hearing them in my head as I read my manga. The art style was new and fresh, the actors had played their lines better then ever, and the best part? They were doing it right. 

There isn’t a single thing I disliked about the anime. I can think of no complaint. It was everything I could have possibly dreamed of, and more so. I loved everything about it. I loved the voice acting, I loved the animation, I loved the pacing, I loved the excitement I got every Monday when a new episode came out. But most of all, I loved watching the show with everyone else, new and old to Fruits Basket. I loved reminiscing with people who read the manga and were as excited as me to see it fully animated. I loved watching my dad and thousands of others experience it for the first time and theorize about what would happen next. I loved the community it built with people who needed Fruits Basket, who needed to hear the words that Tohru had to say. It was everything I could have ever possibly hoped for and I couldn’t be happier with it.

I could write sonnets about each character and what I loved about them. I could talk about how much Tohru means to me as a main character who was kind and selfless but it was never made to be a weakness, or something that was taken advantage of until it broke her. Or I could write about Kyo, the perfect representation of what a tsundere should be but was never defined by it, and grew to change into a better, mature person. Maybe I could talk about Yuki, how much his story and journey meant to me as I got older, how happy I was to see him make new friends and become a person who was no longer held down by his abuse, and flourished in spite of it. 

Each and every character means so much to me and to see them on my TV again, with their stories fully fleshed out... I can’t stress enough how overjoyed I was. There are no words in the dictionary that can express it. And even though it’s over, I didn’t get that “What now?” feeling I usually get after finishing a series I loved so much. I know what’s next for them. And I know that if I ever need them, they’ll always be right there; in my bookshelf, or on my TV. 

It was an honor to experience Fruits Basket with everyone, and while the series is over, I’ll never stop loving and talking about the characters. Almost ten years with them, and the number’s just gonna keep growing. I’ll continue to read, watch, and rant about Fruits Basket,

Repeating the good and the bad.

Doing it all.

And piling on the years.

[velvetthunder1999]

All the time on Earth

Part 13 - New Home

Summary: George and Fred rescue you from your abusive parents and take you home to The Burrow where they welcome you into the family

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Abuse, Blood (!)

Word count: 3.9K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

You let the window open as you left the room; you had sent Peanut off with a letter to George yesterday and you were still waiting for the answer.

You didn’t like leaving your room much, but today was a very special day, as your father had said. A few of his and mother’s friends were coming over, to see the daughter of their dear friends, the daughter who, according to his parents, has been studying abroad all year and now came home to visit for the summer holiday.

You clenched your jaw at the thought of what’s coming tonight. Your parents had kept up the appearance of your well-functioning family over the years. They would probably die of shame if their friends realized what you were. So tonight, you had to act accordingly, otherwise, as your father had said, you will not have a roof over your head anymore.

The problem was that you were still a few months away from being seventeen. You still had to rely on your parents for the summer, as you couldn’t use magic to make your life easier just yet. Of course, your parents still didn’t know about this. This lie had been your only way of surviving this hell.

You let out a huge sigh as you walked down the stairs and made your way into the kitchen. On the table the ‘good set’ of plates and silverware were waiting for the guests to arrive. You counted twelve seats at the table and moaned in pain, realizing how many idiotic people will be asking you about your foreign school which you had apparently been attendending for five years now.

“Girl,” your father’s snarky voice made you look up. “In here.”

You walked over to the living room, where your mother was preparing drinks on the coffee table, clearly making an effort not to look at you. You didn’t even care about it at this point.

Your father was adjusting his tie in the mirror when he looked at your clothes. He grunted, a look of superiority on his face.

“You have twenty minutes to get dressed into something appropriate. You might as well burn those jeans in the fireplace. You will not bring shame on us in those clothes.”

You looked down at your jeans which had a whole in them at both knees, just like every second pair of jeans in every store.

“Am I not allowed to wear jeans like normal people?”

“And you can loose the attitude as well. When at the table, you answer politely, convincingly, and you will smile at everyone. I don’t want to hear anything about your — thing, and how your ungodly behaviour works. Anything to add?” he asked, seeing your angry eyes. “No? Great. You will only speak when your spoken to. And if I see anything, and I mean anything out of ordinary, you will regret the day you were born.”

“Sounds fun,” you muttered.

“Another word…” he raised his finger, warning you. “Go and change.”

“What if I say no?” you started. You wanted to transfer some of your anger into him. “What if I don’t change my clothes?”

“Then I will kick you out of this house!”

“Oh, but what if you won’t?” you said, forcing yourself to smile. “What if I get my wand, and use it? What if I tell all your guests about the actual school I’m attending? What if I start floating your teacups around?”

“Listen here, you ungrateful little —”

The doorbell rang. He looked at his watch, then at the door.

“They’re early. Go up, girl! I don’t wanna see you down here until you change! You have five minutes! Go!”

You grimaced and headed to the stairs through the hall. You didn’t wanna be seen for as long as possible. Your father in the meantime went to open the door, quickly adjusting his tie again. The door creaked.

“Good ev —”

He fell silent and you stopped in the middle of the stairs to listen. An unfamiliar voice came from outside.

“Good evening, I am looking for Y/N. Is this the right place?”

“There is no one here called Y/N!” answered your father with a grunt.

“Oh, we might have been misinformed, haven’t we Fred?” said a second, very familiar, cheeky voice. “Isn’t this the house with two muggles and their daughter who just came home for the holidays?”

You ran down the stairs and hurried towards the front door. Next to your father’s shoulder you saw a face, a face that made you grin like crazy.

“Oy, Y/N!” said Fred, looking at you. “How you doing?”

Your father jerked his head to look at you.

“How dare you invite these people —”

“Hey,” you said, ignoring the man completely. “What are you doing here? Come in!”

Your father was slightly pushed aside by Fred who entered the house like it was his own. He gave you a quick hug, then he was followed by George and an other man, who was supposed to be their dad.

“Y/N” he said, shaking your hand with a smile. “Arthur Weasley. So nice to meet you.”

“I thought… It’s only been a few days…”

“We cannot wait any longer, but we’ll explain everything when we’re home,” said the man. “Now… I’m guessing George would be kind enough to help you with your luggage. In the meantime Fred and I will keep your parents company.” He said this with a pleasant smile, while looking at your father, and mother who came to see what’s happening. You nodded, took George’s hand and said,

“This way.”

You lead him up the stairs in silence. You took a turn to the left and stepped inside your quite messy room. You waited until George followed you, shut the door and faced the boy who you haven’t seen in nine days.

“Hi,” you said, grinning.

“Hi,” he said, with his usual mischievous smile.

And then he was kissing you with so much passion you thought you’re gonna faint. You reached for his face, caressing his cheeks, then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer and closer…

When letting go in serious need of air, you brushed your lips against his as you spoke.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too, witty.”

“I like the hair,” you said, brushing his short locks on his head. He laughed.

“Mum had enough. She literally attacked Fred and I the first minute we got home.”

“Well… she was right,” you said, pecking his lips. “You’re really hadsome.”

He laughed and kissed you again before letting go.

“Well, thank you, love. Let’s see…” he looked around the room, seeing your stuff everywhere but in your suitcase. He smirked. “I can help you with that. You know, since I’m seventeen and everything.”

“Show off,” you shook your head, smiling.

“I passed the apparation exam as well,” he said. “Fred, too.”

“Really?!” your jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you write it in your letter?”

“I wanted to tell you in person,” he said, still grinning. “How about that?”

“I’m so proud of you! George, really!

He looked at you with shimmering eyes.

“Thank you. Now, let’s — What’s that?”

He looked at your bed, amused. Next to your pillow was his quidditch jumper that he had given to you a few weeks ago.

“Are you sleeping with that?” he said. You felt yourself blushing.

“Yeah…? D’you have a problem with that?”

“No,” he said in a very pleasant tone. He pressed a kiss on your temple. “It’s really flattering. You should give me something to sleep with, too.”

You snorted.

“How about me? When we finally leave this shithole?”

“Sounds good to me.”

He raised his wand and all your clothes flew into the suitcase. Then you took Peanut’s cage, checked your wand in your pocket and lead the way down to the kitchen, where the tension was  already over the top.

All four of them were sitting at the table; Mr Weasley was talking about something with an eager expression, while Fred was leaning back on the chair with a smug smile, looking at your father, who had his usual statue-like face.

Your mother was sitting next to him, her hands in her lap, her back straight as a picket fence.

You stepped into the kitchen, awkwardly looking at Mr Weasley. You wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“Well… I’m ready.”

“Wonderful,” nodded Mr Weasley, and stood up. He turned back to your father once more. “So, as I said, we are happy to keep her for the whole summer vacation. However, next year, if you’d like…”

“You can leave now, if you will,” said your father sharply, interrupting Mr Weasley. “Before somebody sees you.”

You took a deep breath. You couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable.

“Right, then. Let’s go.”

“Wait a minute,” Mr Weasley were looking back and forth between you and your father in disbelief. “Are you sending her away just like that? Like an unpleasant guest?”

“I was always just an unpleasant guest,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

“Is he kicking you out?” said Fred, astonished.

“Believe me, I don’t wanna stay here either…” you made your way towards the door, but Mr Weasley’s hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“I don’t understand… You daughter hasn’t been home for a year, you must —”

“What I must and mustn’t do in my own house is up to me and no one else!” your father stood up as anger overcame him. You felt danger was coming.

“Now, leave before I’m calling the authorities!”

Mr Weasley’s expression switched from confusion to disbelief.

“There is no reason to behave like this, I say,” he said. “A parent —”

“We are no longer parents!” your mother snarled suddenly, out of nowhere. She stood up, clutching her fist. “You go and leave us, girl!”

You turned to her in shock. Her voice shot through the kitchen like a bullet. She waved lazily at the twins, but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“And don’t expect to come back next year! Leave now, and take the scum with you.”

You stopped dead. The twins stepped forward. Mr Weasley was now raising his voice.

“Now, you’re talking about —”

“What did you just say?”

The whole kitchen fell silent as you stepped closer to your mother. She was taking aback, glancing at the wand in your pocket. You were shaking in anger. Your voice was almost a whisper as you spoke.

“What — did you — just say?”

You were waiting for an answer. When it didn’t come, you didn’t hold back.

“Let’s see… You pretended I didn’t exist… You haven’t talked to me for five years… and then when you decide to speak again… the first thing you do is insult my friends?”

You took a shaky breath. And then you started shouting.

“How dare you insult these people?! How dare you talk to them that way?! How dare you even look at them without being ashamed of yourself?!”

Your mother stepped closer to you. Her eyes were burning with disgust.

“Ashamed of myself? You’re the one to talk! For years we have been living in fear, not knowing what that twisted mind of yours is going to do to us! Knowing that it would be the end of us if anyone found out what you are — what all these people are! You stopped existing for me when you decided to embrace your abnormality —!”

“Oh, my abnormality, you say?”

You pulled your wand out of your pocket, waving it around. You saw from the corner of your eyes that the three Weasleys were shifting nervously. Your father grabbed your mother’s shoulder. You were shouting.

“You mean this? I think it’s the perfect time to tell you now, that our law forbids me to use this stupid stick at home!”

“What?” your mother gasped. “But you told us —”

“I can’t use magic outside school,” you said, with the sweet taste of satisfaction in your mouth. “I lied to you and you believed me, I played both of you like the fools you are —”

The slap took you by surprise. She hit you so hard you fell on the floor, feeling immense pain on your cheek where her ring had cut a long, deep wound. You felt dizzy as you were trying to get back up, reaching out for the hand that was helping you. Around you were voices, shouting.

You looked around, barely able to see from the pain. George was holding you close, one hand on your cheeks. Fred was pointing his wand towards your parents, his face pure rage. His curse had crushed the table and broke it in half as it was dodged by Mr Weasley, who was now using a shield charm. You and the twins were standing on one side, while he and your parents on the other. Even though he was protecting the muggles, Mr Weasley seemed extremely furious with them.

“Fred, George, take Y/N outside!” his voice was shaking with wrath. “Take the luggage, too. I’ll be there in a minute!”

“Dad…”

“GO. OUT!”

The three of you left the kitchen and stepped outside into the fresh evening air. You broke free of George’s grip and walked before the twins, still panting, still barely seeing, still feeling something warm on your cheek…

“FUCK!!!” you stopped and screamed from the bottom of your lungs. “FUCK!!!” You burried your face into your hands but winced as you touched the open wound. You saw your hands getting dirty with blood.

“Y/N?” George’s careful voice came from behind you. You turned around, looking at the twins; they had the same mixture of anger and pity on their faces.

Fred was still holding his wand.

“What did you wanna do?” you asked, pointing at it.

“You don’t wanna know.”

You nodded.

“Are you alright?” asked George, looking concerned. You didn’t answer.

“I’m never coming back here,” you said, shaking your head.

“I’ve never seen dad so angry like this,” said Fred. “Never. Not even when we almost killed Ron when we told him to fly without a broom when he was six.”

“I reckon he’s gonna talk with them…” said George.

“Oh, he’s gonna talk with them, all right,” said Fred, looking at the house then back at you. “Are you all right, Y/N?”

You turned away from them. You didn’t know how to answer. No, you were not all right, but also, you were not surprised this had happened. It was just a matter of time.

You felt George’s hand on your shoulder. You knew it was him. You just knew.

“Come here,” he said and gently raised your head. He carefully started cleaning your cheek, leaving bloodmarks on the tissue he was using. His hands were shaking from the repressed anger. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yeah,” you said, slightly louder than a whisper.

“He’s coming,” said Fred, looking at the approaching Mr Weasley.

Indeed, he was leaving the house without looking back, putting his wand back into his pocket. He seemed extremely furious, but when he looked at you, his face relaxed a little.

“Y/N, I am so sorry about what happened. I would’ve never thought… Don’t worry, Molly can patch you up in a minute. I am really, really sorry.”

“It’s all right, really,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What did you do, dad?” asked Fred eagerly.

“I talked with them,” said Mr Weasley shortly.

“No —,” said George. “— what did you do?”

Mr Weasley looked back at the house, screwing his face. Then he looked at you again.

“Y/N, you are welcome to come back next year if you wish, but you don’t have to. The choice is yours, I reckon you’ll have plenty of time thinking about it in this year. I just want to say… However you decide…Molly and I are going to make sure you’re all right.”

Your throat felt dry as you were nodding. You couldn’t say anything, no words could express the gratitude you felt. You whispered a low ‘thank you’ but Mr Weasley seemed to understand.

“I say, let’s leave now,” he said, in a lighter tone. “Molly’s cooking a wonderful dinner. Fred, take the cage. I take the trunk. George, you take Y/N. Have you ever apparated, Y/N?”

“No,” you shook your head.

“All right. Then grab onto George and let him lead you. One… two…

“I stand back in case you throw up,” said George, grinning.

“What?!”

“…three!”

You felt like a rug was pulled from under your feet and your body started twisting into itself. You couldn’t breath, but before you could have started panicking, your shoes touched the ground and you arrived in a big yard surrounded by nothing but trees, bushes and a small lake.

“Welcome home,” said George.

You looked at the house and your jaw dropped before you started grinning.

“Come on in,” said Mr Weasley. “Everyone’s inside.”

You couldn’t stop looking around. Everything was so interesting, so perfect, so…Weasley.

Mr Weasley sat down your luggage next to the table as you went into the kitchen. He called out for the others and turned to you.

“Tea?”

Before you could answer, you heard steps and Mrs Weasley stepped into the kitchen.

“Oh, finally, I wondered what took you so long! Y/N, my dear… Dear God, what happened?”

Her eyes widened in shock as she looked at your face. You realized again how badly your scar hurt. Mr Weasley stepped out of the way so that his wife could come closer.

“There was an… accident, Molly,” said Mr Weasley quietly. “Can you patch it up?”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Mrs Weasley lead you to a chair and you sat down. She gently held your face up to the light. “What happened? Did you two did something?”

She looked suspiciously at the twins. They both spoke in indignation.

“Mum, are you serious —?!”

“You think we’d ever —?!”

“It wasn’t them, Mrs Weasley,” you said. You started to feel more and more embarrassed by this whole situation. “Can you help me? It really hurts.”

“I can, darling but it won’t heal immediately. The scar will need another day or so to disappear completely…”

“It’s okay,” you nodded. She took her wand.

“All right, Fred, George, take up Y/N’s luggage to Ginny’s room. Arthur, could you set the table until I’m working here?”

They all left and she started doing some spells with a weird, twitching movement of her wand.

“Don’t move now, my darling, it’s very important.”

You tried to be as still as possible. You felt a weird tingling under your eye, then Mrs Weasley smiled at you warmly.

“There you go. It’s barely visible. Here — take this,” she gave you a wet rug and you cleaned the rest of the blood from your face. “Are you sure you’re…”

“Y/N!” Ginny ran into the kitchen, squeezing you in a big hug. “I thought you only come later this week!”

“Yeah, me too,” you said, beaming at the returning twins. George scowled at Ginny.

“Let her breathe, for Merlin’s sake, she’s just arrived.”

“Oh, just because you’re jealous,” snapped back Ginny. “Don’t forget, she was my friend first!

“And I though when you arrive I won’t have to listen to this anymore,” said Fred, looking at you, pretending to be tired of the situation.

“Kids, why don’t you go up, show Y/N around the house?” said Mr Weasley.

“Molly, help me with these napkins, I don’t know which one you prefer…”

“Come on,” said George, leading you up the stairs, Fred and Ginny following you.

“Napkins, of course,” said Fred. “I bet dad’s gonna tell her everything that happened.”

“Why, what happened?” asked Ginny.

Fred and George stopped and looked at you with the same expression. It was up to you.

“Er —” you didn’t know how to phrase it. You decided to just say it. You pointed at the scar. “My mum hit me.”

Ginny went pale.

“What?”

You quickly summarized the happenings of the evening. The twins were standing with a dark expression on their faces; Fred leaning against the wall, George holding your hand. Ginny was shaking her head in disbelief.

“I am so sorry.”

You nodded. You just wanted to forget it. Maybe that would sooth the pain in your heart.

“I think dinner’s ready soon,” said George. “Ginny, go, tell Ron. We’re going down.”

Ginny went further up the stairs and you returned to the kitchen. Mr Weasley was sitting at the table with his lips in a thin line, Mrs Weasley was standing by the counter, occasionally sniffing her nose.

Yep. You were sure they had just been talking about you.

George sat down next to you as soon as you chose a seat. You smiled at him and squeezed his hand under the table. The food was so delicious, you ate second helpings from everything. Still, couldn’t enjoy the evening as much as you wanted to. You still needed to do something, you still wanted to thank them.

When all of you had finished and Mrs Weasley stood up to clean the table, you stood up as well.

“I’ll help.”

“Oh, darling, you don’t need to, just go —”

“No, please. I’d like to help.”

George was staring at you from the bottom of the stairs. You shook your head and sent him upstairs, pointing.

The kitchen was now empty except for you and Mrs Weasley. You chose to dry the dishes with a rug, while Mrs Weasley was packing the leftovers into little boxes.

“Mrs Weasley…?” you said in an uncertain voice. She turned to you with a kind smile. And then you started crying.

“Oh, dear!” she welcomed you in her arms, gently stroking your hair. “It’s all right… It’s all right now…”

The voice of a mother made you cry even more. You were a bit taller than she was; you leaned down and put all your weight on her, you felt like you have no strenght left, you just couldn’t continue with this, you couldn’t take it anymore…

She held you as long as you wanted it, she did not pull away. She was whispering into your ear, telling you that everthing is all right, just how she probably had said to many of her children over the years when they were crying. You hugged her tightly, finally hugging someone after five years, finally receiving some kindness, finally feeling that you are safe, because as long as she is close, you were not afraid of facing reality.

When your crying softened and you could breath normally again, you pulled away and looked at Mrs Weasley through your remaining tears. She brushed your hair away from your face, and cupped your cheek with a sad smile.

“Would you like some tea, dear?”

You nodded, sniffing, sitting down at the table. Soon she put a nice, hot mug in front of you. You spoke, your voice hoarse from the crying.

“I’m sorry.”

She gently squeezed your wrist, but her voice was fierce.

“Don’t you ever be sorry! They should be sorry for that they’ve done. And I am sorry, for not bringing you sooner away from them. But I promise you, this will never happen again. You are safe with us.”

You wiped away your tears, still panting a bit.

“Thank — Thank you. For every — everything.”

“No need to thank, dear,” she smiled at you kindly. Then she laughed to ease the mood. “I should be thanking you. I have another daughter now.”

You chuckled, sniffing.

“Yeah,” you said. “I really love him, you know.”

Mrs Weasley looked at you with adoration.

“I know, darling. He loves you, too.”

“Yeah?” you laughed while still wiping your tears.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I knew it in the minute I saw him looking at you.

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 13 reactions

Well, that was... well. in short I quite enjoyed some of what happened while din was there and I didn’t really care about what happened while he wasn’t there lol. I think it’s becoming increasingly clear that I just don’t care for the episodes dave filoni writes for this show, which is simply a matter of taste I guess. 

(if you loved this episode wholeheartedly -- probably look away now, I’m going to be a bit of a downer about it and I don’t want to shit on your joy haha)

- let’s just get this out of the way first: there’s a lot of stuff around rosaria dawson and transphobia in real life and yeah, of course that affects how I watch the show. I don’t even want to talk that much about ahsoka in this because of it. she was not that good in the role, after seeing how it played out I don’t think the character needed to be in this show at all, and she should never have gotten the role in the first place and that’s about it for what I’ve got to say. 

- dave filoni consistently does things with din’s characterization that feels off and weird to me, subtly out of place with what we see in other episodes (he’s... ruder? more short tempered/cocky/actively or aggressively interpersonal? more prone to express himself directly than he is usually? idk how to describe it but filoni!din always feels one step to the left of what he should be and I’m so hyper-attuned to this character that when something’s a bit iffy with him it throws everything else off haha. it feels like a shallower, more convenient read on him and I don’t like it)  

I also think filoni is almost too familiar with and in love with the source material sometimes? “A Mandalorian and a Jedi? They’ll never see it coming” is undeniably a great line that echoes in decades of deep lore and so on, but dave my good man din had no real idea what a jedi even is until literally this morning. we, the audience, know about this long and storied history, but unless ahsoka spent the afternoon explaining it to him din still only knows the faint outlines of it, he has no personal experience of or attachment to it. it’s not bad, as such, it just rings false to the character based tone of the show for me personally 

- positivity break: baby sitting perched on the dashboard to be close to papa while they’re in hyperspace........sd sdfskdjhfdsakjksdhfkasjd  

also this is some full on madonna and child in the manger shit and I am LIVING for it (odds he’s crying quietly behind the helmet here? pretty damn good if you ask me). the mundanity of what’s essentially the shitty spartan bathroom of the razor crest on one side contrasted with the light and tenderness and love on the other? amazing, a perfect microcosm of what this show does with combining the grittier everyday down to earth stuff in the star wars universe with myth and wonder and magic and through it elevating both

 - the idea of having an iconique samurai/sword duel standoff and a western standoff going on simultaneously is genuinely inspired, but in action it didn’t really work for me. (the sword duel stuff needs these moments of stillness with sudden outbursts of violence and then stillness again, the western standoff needs mounting tension until it’s nearly unbearable, and cutting between them the way they did you sort of didn’t get either to its full potential. again it’s a cool idea, though, I hope someone picks it up and does it better at some point)

- seeing a jedi and a mandalorian wander together through a burned out wasteland left desolate by greed and warfare should have hit me harder than it did but for some reason it didn’t, idk. thematically sound, though, I like it a lot on the metaphor level

- I LOVE that pure beskar makes a specific sound, and that it’s an almost ethereal noise like the high clear chime of a distant bell. also now din has something to fight light sabers with that isn’t the dark saber which makes me so happy because you guys I do not want him to be the mand’alor. keep that funky laser sword away from my dad, apart from killing him at the end that is literally the most boring way to end his arc pls do NOt 

- wow they really went in hard on the samurai stuff in this one huh! there is a part of my mchanzo-loving heart that thrives on seeing a space cowboy and a space samurai team up, *wild otp-fuelled whisper* they’re twin genres inextricably entwined okay they belong together if you see this spreadsheet I’ve made over here -- 

- even knowing it was just a trick I felt such intense distress seeing the signet pauldron away from din. like the attachment I have to these pieces of metal because That Armour Means Dad... wild  

- they really chose the dumbest name possible for the baby huh fsajdfhsaj I agree with din his name is ‘kid’ now (eh just give me a while to get used to it probably I’ll come around)

also... you know what I’ve said before about shrinking the big unknowable galaxy ‘the mandalorian’ has been setting up? wow did they do that big time in this one, and it makes me feel decidedly :/. why does the baby have to come from the jedi temple, is there truly no other tradition of force users in the entire galaxy he could be from? WHY do you have to pull thrawn into this when most people watching this show won’t even know why he’s such a big deal? is this a stealth tease for a rebels sequel? if so why spend an entire episode of this show that only gets eight precious episodes a season on it??   

- on a more fun positive note: baby’s clothes are clean again, so it’s confirmed that din does wash them (and I guess that he does have some means of washing clothes aboard the razor crest!). I loved... most of the dad and baby stuff in this one, but then don’t I always I’m easy to please that way haha (the ‘playing catch’ sequence felt a bit off to me but I don’t know why. din being like ‘he’s so stubborn’ wasn’t... eh. didn’t land right. “that would be a first” was fun tho lol) 

- having ahsoka state the baby’s feelings out loud like that felt... weird? and also kind of unnecessary in parts, like yeah he’s a baby who’s been passed along to different groups of strangers and experimented on by empire scientists, you don’t need to spell it out for me that he’s been scared and lonely, or at least spell it out more interestingly? it’s such blunt force storytelling where it didn’t need to be? there are more elegant ways to get the same things across, I am absolutely convinced 

- ...wow while I was watching the episode I was mostly like ‘okay this is Fine I can go along with it’ but seeing what I’m thinking about in hindsight... yeah probably my least favourite episode of this show full stop haha, it took the spot from chapter 5 which was also a filoni ep

- I did 100% genuinely adore the whole part of din approaching the town and meeting the magistrate. consistently hiding the baby behind his cape and his arm? being deliberately, teeth-grindingly dispassionate with everyone, just giving them nothing? getting to see a bit of professional bounty hunter din again? wonderful in every way, I love this man  

- lots of meaningful shots of baby in the middle with a mando on one side and a jedi on the other, it’s almost like they’re setting up some Themes here lol 

- ...do you think din told ahsoka about either the rhino-levitating or the force choking. because girl I don’t think not training him is going to make this just go away haha, he just won’t know what he’s doing  

- it makes me so sad that baby connects his force powers with being abused :( (also a heartbreaking sign of just how much he cared about din from the very beginning, since he used it on the mudhorn to save him anyway ;________; was that like. literally the first time he sensed kindness and affection in anyone in like twenty five years or... ) 

- I understand why ahsoka would feel this way because of her past and specific traumas, but tbh attachment in a baby? probably a good thing, he doesn’t really have the higher brain functions to cultivate non-attachment yet and needs a safe figure because again. he is a baby. 

good on her for realizing it’s not a task she can take on both for the baby’s sake and her own, and also that din is that baby’s Dad though. the way she smiled at the end watching them leave seemed vaguely hopeful/had a little bit of wonder in it, like maybe she felt the potential for something good there, something she couldn’t conceptualize from her background but could sense the tentative outlines of anyway?  

(also so much pressure on a lil bb to decide his path... his dilemmas should be limited to what colour socks he wants to wear today not the course of his entire life :( I know he’s a magic baby but.......) 

- idk maybe I’ll find more affection of this episode through rewatches, you never know

[lesbianavatarverseimagines]

You Left Me - Part 1 of 2

Pre-Redeemed!Princess Azula x Reader

Anon Asked:

Could you do an AzulaxReader where the reader grew up with both of the royal children and always kept them in place, especially Azula, knowing that she had mommy issues? As they get older and grow closer, the reader is suddenly declared dead after her war ship is blown up before Azula is named Firelord, which is the last strike to Azula losing her mind during the final battle? Thanks AJ! 

The events will be stretched out so that I can make them older during the canon events!

(A/N: I’m kind of surprised by the requests I got overnight, but I love it! Thank you everyone! I love you guys! The next one will either by Mai, Kyoshi, or Rangi! If I’m up to the task, I may even do all three haha - AJ)

***

It all started with my parents selling baby me to Fire Lord Azulon. Apparently they needed money that bad and wanted me to have a 'better life' knowing damn well I would probably become a palace servant. However, the Fire Lord seemed to take pity on me after learning that I was a firebender at the young age of 2, when I started learning to cook. After I impressively firebreathed at my caretaker, who refused to give me a chili pepper, he immediately heard of the incident and placed me in the care of General Iroh, who was to train and teach me the arts of firebending.

At the impressive age of 5, I’d mastered fire using non-conventional forms. I studied waterbending and airbending forms and used those to make me more effective as a master of the arts. I also took great pride in Iroh’s teachings of the mind, body, and soul. It opened my eyes to the great things I could accomplish if I had the ambition. I was also introduced to Prince Zuko and Princess Azula, the royalty that I'd be personally guarding once my training was finished. They both latched onto to me very quickly, as I had that playful charm, but a powerful aura that made them feel safe. 

***

By the time I hit 8, I was made the personal guard of the prince and princess. 

“You are to guard them with your life and keep them in line, behaviorally and training-wise, Private L/n. They are to respect you as they would me. You know what to do if they do not.” Fire Lord Azulon had told me during my official inducting ceremony. I bowed, honored to have been given a position that thousands of so-called 'masters' fought so vehemently for.

As soon as I was dismissed, I ran to the courtyard where Azula and Ty Lee were doing somersaults. Mai was sitting against a tree fiddling with her fingers while Zuko walked with his mother, Ursa. As I walked over to the three girls to tell them the news, I watched Azula fail to stick her landing. As a result, she retaliated when Ty Lee landed perfectly by pushing her to the ground. I stopped walking once I reached them and gave Azula a stern look.

“Azula, you need to stop being mean to your friends. Just because you’re a princess doesn’t mean that your behavior is acceptable.” I grunted out. She stopped laughing after seeing that I was completely serious and helped Ty Lee from the ground, apologizing after. Azula then skipped over to me and gave me a hug before waving her friend over.

We huddled together for a second before she whispered, “Watch this.” She skipped over to Ursa and urged her to let Zuko play with us. Once he came over, Azula demonstrated the ‘game’ that we would be playing. “We have to try to knock the apple off the other person’s head, like this!”

She shot an orange flame at Mai’s head and caught the apple on fire, prompting Zuko to panic and save Mai from catching on fire. However, he ended up tackling her into a water fountain that was behind them. Azula, Ty Lee, and I laughed and started cooing them until they walked away in embarrassment.

***

At the age of 11, we all learned that General Iroh’s son had passed away during battle and that Iroh was coming home. It hit home for me, as Lu Ten acted as my older brother after I was taken in as Iroh’s pupil. Time seemed to pass by very fast until I was suddenly in the throne room of the palace with Prince Ozai, Prince Zuko, Princess Ursa, Princess Azula. Ozai had requested an audience with Fire Lord Azulon to show the advancement of his children’s skills.

As usual, Azula excelled like a master in the making, but Zuko wasn’t at the same level yet. In the end of it, Azulon ordered me to escort the kids out of the room for a private discussion with Ozai.

While we walked out, Azula grabbed my hand and we all snuck back in to listen. I didn’t really pay attention to the heated conversation between father and son, as I was solely focused on the princess’ hand in mine. At some point, a frightened Zuko ran out, but Azula and I stayed until the discussion was over.

We ended up walking to my room, which was between theirs. After I closed the door, I sunk to the floor. I never got to express my grief about Lu Ten’s death because I was constantly expected to never show deep emotion. I forgot that Azula had come in with me, so she watched as I quietly broke down in sobs. It almost surprised me when she sat next to me and cradled my shoulders in comfort, knowing that I was going through a hard time. She didn’t say anything even after I was done and helped me out of my armor and into bed. 

“Get some sleep, Y/n. A lot of things are going to be happening tomorrow.” She said as she walked out and closed the door.

***

At the age of 13, Fire Lord Ozai challenged Zuko to an Agni Kai, making me jump up during the war council to object, as it was my sole duty to defend the prince, no matter who it was to. “No! As my duties pertain, I am the one who will participate in this Agni Kai! The prince shall not be harmed, my Lord!”

Fire Lord Ozai widened his eyes for a split second, surprised that one his most trusted and obedient guards was speaking out against him, during a war meeting nonetheless.

He fumed. “It may be your duty to protect Prince Zuko, but he needs to learn discipline! I will give you a day to train him before the challenge, but that is the only mercy I will give. Now, take him and get out of my sight, Private L/n!”

I grabbed Zuko by the upper arm and pulled him up. I then dragged him out of the throne room that had noticeably grown hotter in temperature.

Once we were far away enough, I led him to the training grounds and punched a purple fireball at him, catching him off-guard. He yelled and dropped flat on the ground, narrowly avoiding the flames. “What are you doing?!”

I angrily got into my stance. I bent my arm to where my right elbow was next to my ear with my fist parallel to the side of my face. My left arm stuck out like a punch, except my hand was opened rather than in a fist. It matched Zuko’s stance since he took inspiration from me and wanted us to have an identical fighting style.

“Fight me.” I growled angrily. “Iroh and I warned you not to speak up during the council, yet you did! Show me what you’ll do during the Agni Kai, Zuko!”

He shakily got up, realizing how angry he’d made me. He got into his stance and sent weak firelashes toward me, not putting enough momentum behind his strikes. I cut through the fire in a rage, not caring that it was burning my skin. How dare he be so weak when he had an Agni Kai tomorrow!

I firebreathed at him with what sounded close to a dragon roar. The flames spread everywhere as my anger only rose. “Y/N!” Solid arms wrapped around me, cooling me down a little bit. Azula yelled through the roaring, “Y/N, STOP! YOU’RE HANDS ARE BLEEDING!”

I listened to her on command and realized that I had obliterated most of the training equipment. Zuko was lying on the pavement again, cowering in fear while Azula held me in place. Wetness ran down my face uncontrollably. My brother would be no match for the general he was to face and I wouldn’t be able to protect him. Another person I care about would die tomorrow along with my honor.

How dare he?!

***

At the age of 16, I was promoted to captain and given my own ship to command. By this age, I'd begun to hate Fire Lord Ozai with a passion.

A while ago, during the Agni Kai, everyone was surprised when they found out that Zuko would be fighting his father rather than the general he spoke out against. When Zuko bowed and started begging for his life as Ozai approached him, I’d gotten up and almost ran on stage until the same solid pair of arms wrapped around me and held me in place again.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but he has to do this on his own.” Azula had said. As much as I’d grown to love her, I had to disagree. He couldn’t do this on his own. He was a child, as were we.

I flinched away from the memory, focusing on my current mission at hand. I was to find Zuko and bring him back to the capital, as he and Iroh were both apparently traitors. Honestly though, how surprising. You give him a huge scar and then banish him, expecting him to remain loyal to you?!

I scoffed in contempt. Once I completed that task, we were to find and retrieve the Avatar, dead or alive, which was something I was wholeheartedly against.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead as a familiar voice spoke out from behind me.

“Are you just going to sit in here and sulk all day, or are you going to train with me?” I heard Azula say from the doorway of my room. I chuckled and turned around to see her giving me that signature smirk.

Azula was to be the successor of Ozai instead of Zuko, as she was the promising prodigy. Ozai tried turning her into a monster, but I was the line that he couldn’t cross. Part of the reason why he promoted me was to get me away from her so that he could turn her, but she always found a way to be at my side and get my advice. I knew she was a ticking time bomb due to the level of her father's abuse, but I loved her too much to leave her on her own. I wouldn’t let her turn into her father so long as I was alive. And that was what I worried about these days.

I smiled and bowed, to which she snorted. “Of course, O’Princess Azula. We shall duel!”

She came over and kissed my cheek before grabbing my hand to lead me away from my thinking. “I am glad that you think of me so highly, Captain Y/n.”

***

After I’d turned 19, Sozin’s comet was nearly here. I was to participate in the raid on all of the nations and burn it all to the ground. I, of course, wasn't going to do that and had joined Team Avatar to stop Ozai. 

Azula didn’t know that I switched sides, as her father sent me away a couple months ago on a ‘scouting mission’ before declaring her Fire Lord and then declaring himself Phoenix King. I knew that she would be stressed under the weight of the title without me there, so I tried my damndest to go back to her and convince her to switch sides. However, fate decided differently. 

An explosion rocked my ship and soon sent me spiraling into blackness.

I’ll find my way back to you, Azula. Before it’s too late for you.

***

(3rd POV)

As soon as Azula learned of your death, she broke. Her mental state completely broke into pieces right before her.

She banished everyone from the palace and went into a frenzied state, seeing you and her mother everywhere she looked. She’d just got done cutting her hair when she looked in the mirror and saw you smiling. Illusion!You didn’t even have to say anything for her to start crying uncontrollably. Why did the fates have to be so cruel? You should be here ruling at her side!

When she blinked, it was her mother, Ursa, standing in your place, telling her that she was loved. A brush was thrown at the mirror and shattered the glass on impact.

After Azula got dressed and went outside for her coronation, the ceremony was stopped by her annoying brother, Zuko, and Katara, the Water Tribe peasant.

"You want to be Fire Lord? Fine, let's settle this. Just you and me, brother, the showdown that was always meant to be; Agni Kai!"

Zuko agrees to the challenge after seeing that something was off about her.

"I'm sorry it has to end this way, brother." Azula growls out.

"No you're not."

***

Once the battle was over and Azula was in chains, she started thrashing around while screaming and crying. "Y/N!" She sobs. "WHY?!"

Why did you have to leave me?

***

End of Part 1.

(A/N: I hope you enjoyed!! I actually cried a little bit with this one. Azula deserves a redemption, so I'm gonna give her one since they did her dirty in the comics ;). Azula is 18 at the end of this but will be 19 in the next part, while you'll be 20. Part 2 will most likely be uploaded later today 8/15/20!)

As always, REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

[lookbluesoup]

I’ve seen a lot of talk about anti anti culture lately and an emphasis on canceling people who write stories where bad things happen (i.e., rape, molestation, abuse). I’m really interested in facilitating a positive, open space here on my blog. So sharing my personal opinion about this at all is something I thought about for a while, and my hope is that it offers a helpful perspective as well as solidarity to people who use fiction the same way as me.

It’s not directed at anyone in particular or any event in particular. The tl;dr version is – people should always have a choice, they should be allowed to read or choose not to read, they should be allowed to write and share or choose not to write or share. Taking that choice away from people ultimately hurts survivors by making topics taboo and forcing everyone to fit a specific moral narrative for their pain or experiences to be valid.

Trigger Warnings: Rape, abuse, cancel culture, child molestation, depression, suicide, dogmatic religion, homophobia

1. These things DO happen in real life, and yes, they are harmful, and yes, reading about them can be triggering. Fully, completely acknowledge all of these things and have experienced my share of it firsthand.

2. People should be allowed to know before they get invested in a story whether triggers might be present so that they can choose to avoid it if they want to. It is their choice, and responsibility to decide not to read something that is appropriately tagged. (And please, please tag appropriately!)

3. Being interested in reading about dark subjects does not make a person evil. Somewhere between 31-57 percent of women admit to having rape fantasies. (x) That does not mean women want to be raped in real life. It does not mean that half the population of women are perverted degenerates. Reading fiction, like indulging in our fantasies, is a safe place to explore and enjoy sensations, dramas, and experiences we still don’t want in real life.

In less touchy examples - I love reading about gladiator arena battles! I love playing apocalyptic games where monsters jump out of the dark and scare the shit out of me! I do not want gladiator rings or to live in an apocalypse in real life! That doesn’t mean my interest in these stories or games condones them in real life. It doesn’t mean I think it was right that Rome irl forced slaves to fight to the death for entertainment.

4. I grew up in an environment without grey areas. The dogmatic Bible-beating hatemongering kind. Someone was good and did everything right according to my beliefs and worldview, or someone was bad and a direct threat to me. If I did something wrong, I had to punish myself physically and emotionally to make up for not being perfect. I was taught to despise myself. My parents believed there was only one correct way to view any situation - their way. I was petrified of punishment and learned that it wasn’t even worth trying to do better or accommodate someone else’s experiences because I would never measure up and would be condemned for doing something that wasn’t perfect. That is immensely, cripplingly harmful to an individual and to society. Cancel culture does the same thing. It excommunicates people who aren’t pure and allows others to get by with abuse because they are ‘teaching’ or an ‘authority on morality’ – and guess what? Nobody is pure. We are all human, we all make mistakes, and we are all learning. None of us have moral authority.

We cannot build a healthy, inclusive society if we are unsafe. We cannot be safe if we are not allowed to first admit that we ALL make mistakes and have prejudices that we can improve on. So we need to be kind and nonjudgmental whenever we have the chance to be. And we have to accept and respect that what’s fun or helpful or healing for us might be the opposite for someone else, or vice versa. Which is okay if we are respectful of each other’s boundaries and don’t try to force a way of being onto someone else without their consent.

5. With regard to writing, this means that people need to be allowed to explore difficult, even painful topics if they wish to. Even for fun. Even if someone else might not want or need to explore those same topics. That doesn’t make either person inherently evil or wrong. It just means we all have different needs and wants and diversity is normal. 

As a serious example, as someone who was molested by a teenage neighbor as a child, I can guarantee you that the fact these topics were considered so disgusting and taboo by society made it very difficult for me to cope. It was not my fault, and I’ve healed from it, but when it happened I didn’t even understand what was going on, and the guilt and self-blame that followed me for years afterward were almost crippling. So yes – what happened to me in real life was wrong, inexcusable behavior. But censorship did not protect me. First it made me ignorant and vulnerable to manipulation, and then it made me feel dirty, disgusting, and isolated. 

What I needed was a safe avenue to talk about it and the thoughts and sensations it stirred up, in order to heal. I needed to know it was okay to have automatic thoughts – they were a result of fear and trauma or even just being human, not a moral failing on my part. I needed to actually talk about and explore what I had felt openly, and how that related to the rest of my life, before I could move past it and have a healthy view of intimate acts that weren’t soaked in guilt and self-loathing.

I read a book after that happened, set in ancient Rome, where pederasty took place. And the victim was allowed to admit that he’d enjoyed some of what had happened to him while enslaved, and was then assured that even though he didn’t hate everything that he experienced, it didn’t make him to blame, nor his abuser right, and those thoughts/feelings did not define him or his morality. That has been immensely healing to me – but this ‘grey’ exploration of a topic is not compatible with mainstream cancel culture.

Or alternatively, I watched the series 13 Reasons Why. I hated it. It felt like nothing but shock value entertainment and not a respectful management of topics like suicide that were very, VERY real to me. Except for someone else I knew who had also struggled with suicidal thoughts and impulses, 13 Reasons Why was immensely validating. They were glad that a series showed such graphic representation of these events in a way that couldn’t be ignored or brushed over. What had been hurtful to me, was empowering to them.

I believe it is not mine, or anyone else’s place, to decide that a piece of media should be across the board banned because of what it might do. Because while some of us share traumas, we still each have different experiences, needs, and healing processes.

Such strict censorship allows for only victims who meet a certain “standard” to receive care and healing. The rest are left to suffer or are even punished further.

All of us have gone through life with vastly different levels of privilege, opportunity, expectations, etc, which leads to vastly different interpretations of the world, none of which are 100% correct or true.

6. Cancel culture hurts LGBTQ+ rights. I’m neither straight or cis, and I might never have learned that if I hadn’t been able to build friendships outside of my social circle who allowed me to integrate and ask questions without being obligated to agree with them. Where I grew up, there was immense prejudice against gay people. My cousin was disowned and disinherited for coming out. I was sheltered from anyone who might argue for gay rights, and discouraged from looking at or being curious of the deep south’s version of ‘problematic.’ That’s what I was taught – to be uncomfortable toward, judgmental, and condemning. If I had been on tumblr during those years and gotten ‘cancelled’ I would have been even more suspicious and condemning of Others, and even more determined that my way was the only right one. I specifically avoided tumblr social circles because I ‘knew’ they hated ‘people like me.’ It’s not exclusive. This trend where people become even more convinced to pick an opposing side because the Other person is being hateful is one of the first things they teach you in social psychology. 

The kind of intolerance that goes with mobbing people for saying anything they consider problematic at all is the same cruelty that makes me unable to tell my parents I identify as agender or pan. It’s what gets women stoned to death and gays beheaded. It’s not moral. 

What changed my point of view was friendships. One of my friends came out as gay and my world turned upside down because here was someone that didn’t match any of the stereotypes I’d been taught to fear. He wasn’t hateful or condemning of me, he was one of the most thoughtful and peaceful people I knew. That is what started to change things for me, and made it safe for me to explore other ways of thinking and interpretations of scripture. Because I cared about him more than I needed to be right.

7. Nobody is obligated to interact with someone who is being violent or hateful to them. You’re not even obligated to interact with someone you disagree with, if the topic is too painful or you simply don’t want to talk about it. Keep yourselves safe. But within the world of writing, live and let live. If someone posts a story you don’t like, and they’ve tagged it appropriately, please, please consider that your experience is not universal. You have the choice not to read that story. Someone else might need to read it. Let them, and don’t shame them for it. 

[the-sympathetic-villain]

You Belong With Me - Chapter 13

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description: Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.  

Word Count: 7055

Chapter Warnings:Injuries, Anxiety, Angst, Self-doubt, References to past abuse/torture (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

-

    The sky over the courtyard had started to darken as they stepped out of Patton's hut. Virgil glanced out the cracked door, surveying the grounds ahead of them and Logan waited for Virgil's signal, before quietly slipping through the door behind him. He could hear Patton’s gentle footsteps on the wet ground behind him as they made their way down the path closest to the castle walls.

    Lifting his head, Logan watched Virgil scanning the grounds around them as he wound his way around to the far side of the castle. Logan tipped his head to the side, just enough to catch a glimpse of the land around him while still keeping his face obscured. He hadn't been to this side of the castle in the short time he'd lived here. Unlike the well-lit section near the main entrance, this part of the castle's only source of light was the faint moonlight peeking through the clouds above them. Logan shivered at the chill in the air and an eerie silence filled the air around them as the last of daylight disappeared over the horizon.

    Out of the corner of his eye, Logan caught the flicker of a torch ahead of them. He looked up to see a set of double doors leading into the castle. A guard stood posted on each side of the door. A chill ran down Logan's spine as Virgil veered off the path towards them. Logan turned his head back just as Virgil glanced over his shoulder at him.

    “Keep your head down as we get close, L,” Virgil muttered under his breath back to Logan. “And try to stay behind me as much as you can. I don't want either of them seeing your face.”

    Logan raised an eyebrow, but dipped his head to his chest. He whispered back, just loud enough for Virgil to hear him. “Are you certain the most discreet way to enter the castle is through one of the major entrances?"

    “We've got no other option.” Virgil didn't look back at him, speaking quietly. “The six main entrances are the only ways into the castle. These are the least used doors, so with any luck, these two goons will be the only people to see us pass.”

    “You don’t know of any hidden entrances?” Logan asked surprised.

    “They don't exist.” Virgil muttered quickly. “The castle is designed to force everyone entering to use the main entrances, because it's safer."

    “Safer?” Logan mumbled as he pulled his hood down further over his face.

    “Everyone who enters is forced to go past a guard, so no one gets by undetected.” Virgil glanced back at Logan. “You may be comfortable with Roman sneaking people into the castle, but imagine if Remus could slip anyone into the castle whenever he liked.”

    Logan paused, considering Virgil's words. “Point taken.”

    “Good.” Virgil turned forward as they approached the doors. “Now, stay quiet and keep your hoods up. I don't want either of you recognized.”

     As they stepped out of the shadows and up to the door, Virgil dropped his hood off his head and nodded at the guards. Logan hovered behind Virgil's right shoulder, head tucked against his chest, as they waited for the doors to be opened for them. He shifted his weight nervously as he noticed one of the guards hesitate, almost stepping towards them. Virgil muttered something to him, but Logan couldn’t make out the words over his own heart beating in his ears. Logan tensed as the men both suddenly moved, expecting to be grabbed, but they seemed to defer to Virgil, stepping back to swing open the heavy, oaken doors.

    Virgil ushered Logan and Patton forward, gently guiding them into the hall in front of him. Virgil leaned in close and whispered to them. “Go wait at the end of the hall. I’ll catch up in a moment.”

     Logan nodded, as he slunk down the hall next to Patton. Hesitantly, he tilted his head up, examining the dark corridors around him. H e swallowed nervously. The absolute silence that filled the halls in this part of the castle was unsettling.

    “No one lives here. That's why it’s so quiet here at night.” Logan looked up at the sound of Patton’s whisper and Patton smiled at him from underneath his hood. “Every other wing has at least a few residents, but this wing is closest to the gates of the outer wall. It's the last line of defense against an invasion so they don't allow people to live here."

    Logan nodded slowly, glancing around them. Only a bleak sliver of moonlight fell through the arrowslits above them. He paused, looking up at the ominous, cross-like slits in the wall. Logan shivered involuntarily, imagining the dire situation under which they would have to be used. The distant sound of the wind whistling through them the only sound to break the heavy silence.

    “What part of ‘Keep you head down.’ did you not understand?” Virgil grumbled as he came up behind him.

    Logan dropped his head. “Sorry, Vee. No one was around—”

   “Someone could come around the corner at any moment. Just because it’s quiet right now doesn't mean you let your guard down.”

    Logan lifted his head just enough to catch Patton’s sympathetic glance before hanging his head shamefully. “Sorry, Virgil.”

    “You don't have to apologize, L. I just need you to stay cautious.” Virgil whispered patiently. “Everyone in the castle is going to be on the lookout for you right now and we can't afford to screw this up.”

    Logan looked up at him, confused.

    “Think about it, L. Roman would have put an alert out on you the second he realized you were missing this morning and cancelling it would look too suspicious. Unfortunately, that means every person in the castle right now would be all too happy to cash in on the reward money for finding you.” Virgil sighed, looking at Logan seriously. “We have to keep your location secure, L. Your safety depends on us getting to Roman undetected.”

    Logan's eyes flicked instinctively to the guards behind them.

    Virgil followed his gaze and his voice dropped to a gentle whisper. “Don't worry about them. They don't even know it’s you I'm transporting, but I made sure they know if they leak anything about me going by, Roman will personally rain hellfire down on their heads. Okay?”

    Logan nodded nervously, dropping his head.

   “Good.” Virgil stepped out in front of him. “Follow me. We've got a long way to go tonight.”

     Logan stayed close behind Virgil as he led them through the narrow passageways. Progress was slow as Virgil paused at each intersection, glancing down every hallway as they passed, and occasionally switching their course to avoid crossing paths with the people moving through the halls.

    The night seemed to drag on as Logan's initial rush of adrenaline faded and a dull sense of exhaustion settled into his bones. Weariness threatened to claim him, but Logan kept moving until they finally slowed to a halt at the last corner. Logan's hair stood on end as Virgil abruptly froze in place. For a moment, Logan wasn’t even sure Virgil was breathing until he slowly turned his head back to Logan and Patton, silently hushing them. Logan could feel his heart beating in his chest as he shrank back into the wall beside him, listening intently to the conversation echoing down the hall in front of them.

    “I'm sure he'll be located, Roman. You have the entire kingdom out looking for him. He's hardly getting out of the castle right now.”

    Logan’s blood turned to ice and he nearly stumbled back into Patton, his legs going weak at the sound of Remus' voice.

    “I appreciate your concern, Remus. I know he'll be found soon. I just worry what could happen to him between now and then.”

    Logan's eyes narrowed, steadying himself against the wall at the sound Roman’s voice. His tone seemed to quiver in distress as he spoke, and much to Roman’s credit, he seemed genuinely warmed by Remus' false concern. Logan's stomach turned. He knew he should be grateful that Roman's act was convincing, but he couldn’t help feeling unnerved at the ease with which the prince lied.

    "He's probably just got lost on his way back from a late night rendezvous, Ro. He'll probably stumble his way back soon, no worse for wear." Logan cringed at the sound of Remus' laugh. “After all, no one's given you any reason to believe they'd hurt him. Have they, Roman?”

    Bile filled Logan's throat at Remus' words. A sharp exhale escaped his lips and he flushed red as Virgil spun his head around to face him.

    “Perhaps not, but enough people are suspicious of my decision to appoint him as my advisor that I can't help being concerned.” Roman sounded defeated. “I only hope my good will did not put him in harm's way.”

    Virgil’s looked back towards the brothers’ conversation briefly, before reluctantly gesturing for Logan and Patton to go back the way they'd came. Logan wished he could listen longer, but he knew it wasn’t safe to stay. Virgil nudged them a short way down a nearby hallway before pulling out a key and unlocking one of the doors on the right side of the hall. Virgil indicated for Patton and Logan enter, following quickly behind them.

    Logan exhaled as he entered, idly surveying the room as Virgil closed the door behind them. It was a small conference room, with large table sitting in the middle of the room. Bookshelves lined the edges of the room, separated by narrow, red tapestries sporting the royal crest. The room smelled of dust and Logan had to force himself to resist the urge to sneeze.

    “L, come here.” Virgil whispered and Logan quickly moved back to him, taking in Virgil’s serious expression. “I'm going back out there to keep an eye on what’s happening, and I'll come back for you when the coast is clear. Lock the door behind me. When I return, I'll knock three times slowly. Do not open the door for anything else. Got it?”

    Logan nodded and Virgil reached over to him, pressing the key into the palm of Logan’s hand. He looked at Logan and Patton with a stern gaze. “Stay quiet.”

    Virgil turned back to the door, slipping through the open crack and pulling it closed behind him.

    After he'd gone, Logan turned the key in the lock, moving over to stand next Patton, who was leaning on the table in the center of the room. Patton smiled at him as he approached, and Logan attempted to smile back, though he doubted he did so convincingly. Silence hung over them as they anxiously awaited Virgil’s return.

-

    A few minutes had passed, when three slow knocks jolted them out of their thoughts. Logan crossed the room and slowly opened door, jumping slightly as Virgil popped his head through the opening. “Come on. Let's move quickly. We don't want to linger in the halls for long.”

    They followed Virgil as he dipped back into the hall, barely able to keep up with his quick pace. The hallways were silent now as they approached Roman’s chambers. Soft, amber light flickered in the hallway as Logan watched Virgil stop in front of Roman’s door, knocking quickly four times. The door immediately opened, and Virgil ushered them inside. Logan exhaled with relief as the door closed behind them.

    “Glad to see you made it.” Logan couldn’t help noticing a quiver in Roman's voice as he spoke. He looked up to see that Roman’s face was red and his hands seemed to be shaking. Logan frowned at him sympathetically, feeling guilty. Perhaps, he’d jumped to a conclusion, assuming that that lying had been easy for Roman.

    “That was much too close. What was he doing here?” Virgil hissed tensely, spinning to face Roman.

    “I don't know, Virge." Roman shrugged, absently pondering his brother’s unexpected appearance as he tried to steady himself. "He's never showed up at my doorstep like that before.”

    “Seriously, princey. That wasn't a coincidence.” Virgil muttered, gesturing stiffly at the door.

    “He may have just been covering his bases or trying to gauge if I knew anything.” Roman thought out loud until he noticed Virgil’s look of disbelief. “But I agree. I'd rather not rely on that assumption. I'm not sure where he’d be getting his information, but I think it'd be best if none of us stayed alone tonight. We shouldn't take any risks right now”

    “I agree, princey.” Virgil seemed to deflate a bit, finally feeling the danger had passed.

    “As planned, Logan will stay here tonight. If there’s any chance Remus does know something, this is still probably the safest place in the castle for him to be.” He paused considering their options. “Patton, I think it's best you don't go home tonight. Remus shouldn’t know who you are, let alone that you’re involved, but I’d feel better if you weren't alone tonight. Both you and Virgil need to sleep, and I’d prefer you stay together since that's the case.”

    Patton yawned and nodded at them as he started to unpack his bag. “I don’t mind staying with Virgil, Ro. I'll set up the wards for you and then we can go.”

   Roman nodded, stepping out of the way as Patton moved to the far side of the room to begin placing the wards.

   "Sounds like a solid plan to me." Virgil dropped down into one of the armchairs, seemingly satisfied with Roman's suggestion. As he collapsed into the cushions it occurred to him for the first time that Virgil actually seemed tired. He frowned, counting back the hours before realizing it’d been at least a full day since Virgil had slept. Logan felt a pang of guilt in his stomach, watching his exhausted friends as they continued to work hard to protect him.

    “Are you okay, Logan?” Logan turned his head to see that Roman had come up behind him.

    “Oh, um. Yes. My mental and physical well-being is adequate.” He paused, attempting a smile when he noticed Roman’s concerned look. “I was simply taking a moment to appreciate the effort you all have expended on my behalf.”

    “I don't think that’s what you were thinking.” Roman smiled knowingly at him.

    Logan felt his facade fall flat. He dropped his head for a moment, before his eyes drifted up to Roman with a resigned smile. “I truly am incapable of deceiving any of you.”

    “You’re a bad liar.” Roman laughed quietly, coming to stand next to him.

    “I feel guilty.” Logan admitted softly.

    “About what?”

    “You’re all using your exceptional talents to protect me, and I have no way to reciprocate.” Logan scoffed at himself. “You’ve given me a single task and I didn't even manage to accomplish that.”

    “Logan, you were assaulted and nearly kidnapped twice last night. These were hardly normal circumstances.” Roman started patiently, gently resting his hand on Logan's arm. “Not to mention, you were able to tell me who poisoned me. As far as I’m concerned, your task was completed far beyond what I expected of you.”

    Logan sighed and shrugged tiredly.

    "Logan, you don't have to feel guilty for receiving our help. All of us are glad to be here helping you."

    “Thank you, Roman. I really do believe you, even if my anxieties seem to repeatedly undermine my confidence in your words." Logan paused, letting his gaze meet Roman's. "Your willingness to respond to my constant need for reassurances is appreciated.”

    With a soft look in his eyes, Roman's arms reached around him, and Logan gave in allowing himself to be pulled into a hug. Logan tilted his head down, closing his eyes and speaking quietly into Roman’s chest.

    “I know you've all expressed your willingness to help me, but admittedly, I'm still having a difficult time processing how I ended up here with you at all." Logan was quiet as he took a deep breath. "It is truly surreal for me to be surrounded by such kind and compassionate individuals, when only a few days ago, I didn’t know any of you. I was alone and at an absolute low in my life. I could have…” Logan’s voice wavered and trailed off.

    Roman tightened his embrace, hearing the uncertainty in Logan’s voice.

    “But instead, I'm here.” He finished quietly.

    “You were meant to end up here.” Roman reassured Logan as he released him. “You belong with us, Logan.”

    Logan nodded numbly. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Patton stand up away from his warding, moving back over to them. The smell of herbs burning on the mantel of the fireplace drifted through the room and various charms now hung about the room. Patton turned and smiled tiredly at them. “I think that's about as good as I can do, but it should manage to keep out any unwanted visitors tonight.”

    At the mention of Patton finishing his work,  Logan watched as Virgil jumped up off the couch, readying himself to leave while Patton packed his remaining supplies.

    “Thank you.” Logan shyly hung his head. "I don't think I'll ever be able to properly convey how grateful I am to have all of you in my life."

    “Of course, Lo. We'll do anything to keep you safe." Patton smiled gently at Logan. “You're part of our family now.”

    Logan looked up to see that all three of his new friends were now smiling over at him. He blushed, embarrassed.

    Patton stepped closer to him, pulling him into a hug. Logan wrapped his hands around Patton and hugged him back.

    “Whenever you start to feel hopeless, just know that you’re loved, kiddo."

    Before he knew it, Virgil and Roman  also had wrapped their arms around him. Logan choked back a whimper. In his whole life, he’d never truly been close with anyone, preferring to distance himself from other people but, in the span of a few short days, so much had changed.

    Eventually, his new friends released him and Virgil and Patton moved to leave.

    “We'll be back in the morning, kiddo. Try not to be too rough on your bandages in the meantime, okay?”

    Logan nodded appreciatively, wiping tears from his eyes.

    “Sleep well, L.” Virgil said, smiling at him.

    “I'll do my best, Vee. Good night to both of you.”

    “Stay safe, my friends,” Roman nodded to them both, bidding them farewell as they slipped out into the hallway.

    Silence filled the room as the lock clicked shut behind them. Logan continued to stare at the door, lost in thought.

    “Well, Logan.  Would you like to get some rest? I know it's getting pretty late.”

    Roman's words interrupted his thoughts, and absentmindedly, his gaze drifted over to the prince.  A moment passed before he collected his thoughts well enough to speak. He smiled apologetically at Roman. "To be perfectly honest, my emotions are running a little too high for me to consider sleeping, Roman.”

    “That’s fine, Lo. We can stay up for a bit, if you that’s what you prefer,” Roman reassured him.

    Logan crossed his arms over his chest in confusion, as he noticed Roman was glancing up and down at him.

    Roman smiled sympathetically as he noticed Logan's confusion. “I'm going find you more comfortable clothing, Lo. I'm sure you've been wearing those for far too long at this point and you look to be close to my size.”

    “Oh, um, thank you Roman.” Logan mumbled in surprise.

    “It’s my pleasure, Logan.”

    He watched as Roman disappeared through a door which he could only presume led to Roman's bedroom. Logan leaned against the wall, wearily staring of into the distance as he waited for Roman to return. He was only gone a few short moments before he reemerged from the room. He wandered back over to Logan, offering him a set of deep blue, silk pajamas. Logan absentmindedly took them from Roman, feeling the fabric in his hands. He'd never touched anything this soft, let alone dreamed of wearing something of this high of quality. He felt nervousness settle into his stomach as he imagined how much a set like this might cost.

     “Are you certain you’re comfortable with me borrowing these?” Logan asked uncertainly, suddenly feeling nervous about holding them in his hand.

     “Honestly, you can keep them." Roman's smile faltered as he noticed Logan's apprehension, but he merely shrugged, unconcerned. "Please Logan, I have no shortage of clothing that ends up in my possession. Nearly every high-quality tailor in the city sends me gifts regularly. They like to capitalize on the idea of providing for royalty, so I end up with more than I could ever wear."

      “Thank you, Roman. I appreciate your generosity.” Logan felt numb as he ran his fingers over the soft fabric, overwhelmed by the sheer difference between them.

      “Trust me, you're doing me a favor by taking some of them off my hands." Roman softly reassured him as he started to move backwards. "I'll step into my room and give you some privacy, but feel free to call for me, if you need anything. Okay?"

      Logan nodded, watching Roman leave until the door closed behind him. Logan sighed tiredly as he started to change. Working his way of his stiff clothing was difficult, as Patton's bandages around his shoulder severely limited his range of motion. Still, he managed, and fortunately, the looseness of the soft fabric made the new clothing easier to maneuver. Logan slipped the pants on with ease, but soon realized the shirt was going to be an issue. He could get one sleeve on, but he couldn't reach the other one without disrupting his bandages. Despite his best attempts, he seemed to be at an impasse. He hesitated, knowing he had to call Roman for assistance, knowing Roman would have to see his bandages. He stood, leaning back against the wall for a few minutes, before deciding he had no other option.

     “Roman?” His voice cracked as he called out. He felt his breath quicken as he suddenly felt vulnerable being half-dressed in the middle of Roman's chambers.

     “Yes, Logan?” Roman called back.

     “I-" He hesitated, taking a deep breath, trying to brace himself for Roman's reaction. “I need your assistance.”

     Logan heard footsteps approach the door. He flinched as the door opened and Roman leaned his head out. Logan watched as Roman's bright expression suddenly shifted to concern. “Oh, Logan.”

     Logan’s cheeks burned as he dropped his head to his chest. Roman ducked out of his room, moving a bit too quickly towards Logan. He couldn't help instinctively flinching back at the sudden movement.

     “Sorry.” Roman stopped abruptly, watching Logan's reaction as he approached. He held up his hands, making sure Logan could see them as he stepped forward. Roman was quiet as he examined Logan's chest. Logan shivered as he felt Roman’s hands brush against the bandages wrapped around his waist, barely even registering Roman's words over the pounding in his ears. “Was this all my brother?”

     Ashamed, Logan looked down at the ground and nodded.

     “I’m going to kill him.” Roman’s voice shook with rage as his hands came to rest on Logan's waist. Logan shuddered at the touch on his sensitive skin.

     “Roman—” Logan’s face burned with shame as he backed further into the wall behind him.

     “Lo, I'm so sorry he did this to you.” Roman's voice quivered softly as he spoke, looking down into Logan's eyes.

     “It's fine.” Logan muttered, instinctively closing his eyes.

     “It's not.” Roman said resolutely. He took a breath, softening his voice and trying to focus on making Logan comfortable. “But we can address that later. Let me help you.”

      Roman let his arms drop from Logan’s waist as he moved to his side, and he held up Logan’s sleeve so Logan could slip his arm into the sleeve. Once his arm was through, Logan turned away from Roman, embarrassed, as he buttoned up the front of his shirt. “Thank you, Roman. I appreciate your assistance.”

    Guilt welled in Roman’s chest at the flat tone in Logan’s voice. He sighed regretfully as Logan continued to look away from him, even as he stopped buttoning his shirt. “I’m sorry if my reaction made you uncomfortable, Logan.”

    “It’s not—It’s—” Logan stuttered, crossing his arms against his chest.

    “Logan—”

    “I don’t want your pity, Roman.” Logan’s voice was flat and apathetic.

    Roman frowned, quiet as he watched Logan breathing grow rapid as Logan faced away from him. “Seeing you hurt upset me, but I don’t pity you, Logan.”

    Logan’s shoulders slumped and silence filled the room as Roman waited for him to speak.

    “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Logan’s voice wavered with exhaustion. He clenched his eyes shut, suddenly feeling light-headed. He stumbled, nearly falling to the ground as his vision blurred. His body went limp as Roman caught him before he hit the ground, lifting him back to his feet. Logan leaned weakly into Roman’s chest, as Roman held him steady.

    “Seeing your injuries changes nothing about how I see you, Logan.” Roman whispered to him.

    "How could I expect you to take me seriously as your advisor, if this is how you see me?" Logan muttered numbly, leaning into Roman's warmth.

    "Your actions the past few days speak louder to me than your injuries ever will, Logan." Roman paused, looking down at him. "What kind of leader would I be if I judged you on the one circumstance that was clearly out of your control?"

    Logan sighed, leaning into Roman’s warmth as he continued.

    "You were selfless enough to risk your life to save me. You were brave enough to speak out against Remus, despite having every reason to fear him. You saved an entire troop of new recruits whose lives could have been lost to our negligence." Roman paused, holding him close. "Despite the cruelness you endured, you are never angry or hurtful towards people and choose instead to be kind and compassionate with everyone you meet. I will never define you by your pain, especially when you clearly have so much more to offer, Logan."

    Logan was quiet, unable to respond to Roman's kind words. He leaned into Roman's chest, until he felt his legs might give out on him. “Can we sit? I feel unsteady on my feet.”

    “Of course.” Roman released Logan, helping him over to the large sofa next to the fireplace. He watched Logan collapse into the cushions before speaking. “Would you like a blanket?”

    Logan looked up at him blankly. “Um, sure, if it's not a hassle.”

    “Not at all. I was going to get one for myself anyway.” Roman called over his shoulder as he made his way back to his room. A few seconds he returned with a small pile of blankets. He handed one to Logan and wrapped one around his own shoulders, before dropping down next to Logan. He turned to see Logan staring off into space, distantly lost in thought.

    “What are you thinking about, Lo?”

    “Just processing.” Logan replied, absently looking up at Roman.

    “Processing what?”

    “Everything, Roman. My life is so different now.” Logan smiled tiredly over at him.

    Roman’s breath caught in his throat. “I’m so sorry that I pulled you into my mess, Logan.”

    Something about Roman's tone caught Logan’s attention. He turned to Roman with a serious expression, hesitantly prompting Roman. “That statement sounded very emotionally charged, Roman.”

    Uncomfortable, Roman looked away. “I hate that I forced you to have a part of any of this chaos. You deserve better.”

    Logan raised an eyebrow at Roman. “It's not your fault that I’m involved.”

    Roman bit his lip, but he didn’t respond.

    “I do not blame you, Roman.” Logan spoke firmly, leaning close to Roman.

    “Maybe you should, Logan." Roman sighed. "You never asked to be involved.”

    “Neither did you.” Logan pointed out flatly.

     “I’m a prince, Logan. Dangerous situations are unavoidable in my position.” He thought for a moment. “You must have had a life before me, and I selfishly took you from everything you had.”

    The room was quiet for a moment as Roman stared at the grounded, guilt festering in his mind until Logan's gentle laugh pulled him from his thoughts.

    “Of all the things you could be worrying about, that particular detail should be the furthest from your mind.”

    Roman looked over to him, confused. A subtle smile had started to form on Logan's face. “Logan, from the second you first saw me, I’ve caused you nothing but pain.”

    “You have never hurt me, Roman. No one but Remus is responsible for what he did to me.”

    “He hurt you because you saved me, Logan.” Roman's voice shook with guilt.

    “Remus tortured me because he’s a sadistic bastard who enjoys seeing other people in pain." Logan shrugged nonchalantly, looking up at him. "If you had died, Remus would still have found an excuse to hurt me, and without you to get me out, My best hope would have been for a quick execution.”

    Roman was silent as he pondered Logan’s words.

    “Roman?” Logan interrupted his thoughts, forcing Roman to make eye contact with him. “Do you think I'm anxious to return to my old life?”

    Roman searched Logan’s face. “I don't know, Logan.”

    Logan stared down at the ground with a sad smile on his face. “It's been weeks, Roman, and no one's even come looking for me.”

    “Oh.” Roman frowned. That thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

    “I don't have anything or anyone I’m trying to get back to, Roman.” Logan spoke softly. His subtle smile started to grow on his face. “In some strange way, I consider these recent events fortunate. If it hadn't occurred, I would never have met you, Patton or Virgil.”

    “Really?” Roman couldn't hide the shock in his voice.

    “Obviously, the situation was hardly the ideal way for me to meet all of you, but I'm grateful all the same.” Logan paused. “Given a second chance, I’d do everything over again, if it meant I would end up here with you.”

    Roman sat quietly, watching Logan. He seemed upset as he sat on the couch, considering his words before he continued.

   “Roman, I don't want you to misunderstand my situation. I wasn’t unhappy in my old life, but admittedly, I kept to myself. I—I don’t connect with people easily, like you or Patton" Logan paused, smiling. "Even Virgil seems to find it easier to connect than I."

    Roman chuckled. “You were an exception in Virgil's case. I've never seen him open up to someone this quickly. It took him a long time to warm up to me and even Patton.”

    Logan's face furrowed in confusion. “I can understand why he may not have warmed up to you immediately. I imagine he would have many of the same hesitations as I originally did, but I can't imagine anyone not taking to Patton.”

    “Patton has a uniquely sunny disposition and it took a while for our little raincloud to give into his influence.” Roman smiled briefly before his face fell to a frown. “You're right about me how he felt about me though. He's never liked the power difference between us, though I would never use my title to take advantage of him. It took a long time for him to trust my intentions, if he even truly does now.”

    “He trusts you, Roman. Virgil actually speaks very highly of you.” Logan reassured him.

    "Huh," Roman chuckled and smiled. “You'd never know that by the way that punk talks to me.”

    “No, you wouldn’t.” The corner of Logan’s mouth curled into a smile.

    There was a pause before Roman spoke again. “Do you trust me, Logan?”

    Logan thought for a bit, staring distantly at the ground below him. He was quiet for so long that Roman almost backtracked his question. “I do trust you, but maybe not as much as you hope.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Roman, I trust that you are my friend and that your intentions toward me are pure.” Logan sighed. “And I recognize you are putting in a considerable amount of effort and resources into protecting me.”

    “But?” Roman prompted.

    “But, ultimately, your position is more important than any single individual. If a situation forces you to choose between me and whatever is best for our country, you will choose your country.”

    Roman raised an eyebrow. “In what situation would you be at odds with the law?”

    “I don’t have to be. Even in my current situation, you cannot openly oppose Remus on my behalf, because it would be detrimental to the stability of the kingdom. Yet, the fact that he is still free puts me in harm’s way. Your position limits your ability to help me and makes you unpredictable." Logan took a deep breath, trying to stop his voice from shaking. "Not to mention, the law has falsely imprisoned me once. It is not outside of the realm of possibility for that to happen again, and if it did, you would be forced to make a difficult decision that may not be in my favor.”

    Roman considered Logan's point for a moment. “There’s not a lot I can do about that, Logan.”

    “No. There's not.” Logan yawned, suddenly exhausted. He leaned closer to Roman, wrapping his blanket tighter around him. “Do you know why Virgil decides to trust you, despite knowing that you could do the same to him?”

    Roman flashed Logan a confused look. “How would you know what Virgil thinks?”

    Logan shrugged tiredly. “He has a similar cynical outlook on the world to myself, so I think I can make a reasonable hypothesis, though admittedly, it would still only be an educated guess.”

    Roman looked down at Logan, unsure where he was going with this train of thought. “Tell me.”

    “I don't think that Virgil believes you would always act in his best interests, but he knows if you made a decision that was detrimental to him, he would choose to accept it because he trusts you to make the right call.”

    “What?” Roman’s voice was flat with shock.

    “If you asked, Virgil would be willing to take the fall for you, because he trusts you would have a good reason for asking that of him.” Logan leaned in closer to Roman, laying on his shoulder.

    Roman was quiet for a minute.

   “Honestly,” Logan continued, unaware of Roman’s shock. “His loyalty to you was a major factor in my decision to trust you as much as I have.”

     Roman sighed tiredly, and for a moment, Logan wondered if he'd gone too far. He was aware he had a bad habit of oversharing when he was tired, but Logan hadn't really been thinking. Anxiety settle in his chest as he waited for Roman's response, but when Roman finally spoke, he sounded distant.

    “When I first hired Virgil, he accused me of trapping him. He actually resented me for a long time.”

    “What?” Logan sat up, muscles tensing as he looked over at Roman. Roman didn't look up, lost in his memories.

    “His situation was similar to yours in a strange way, except he actually committed the crime of which he was accused.” Roman started, thinking back. “We were kids. I met him when he pickpocketed some valuables from me and a guard caught him.”

    “He mentioned that had happened.” Logan acknowledged, listening carefully.

    “Well, of course. The guard was a bit of a prick and made a big show about arresting him and bringing Virgil over to me so I could personally pass some sort of judgment on him and…” Roman hesitated, shuddering at the memory. “Lo, he was only a kid, barely a year younger than myself, and I could see he was scared to death of what I might do to him.”

    Logan relaxed. Somehow, they'd managed to work themselves into a single pile of blankets, wrapped up together as Logan leaned into Roman's shoulder, listening to him speak.

   “I don't think Virgil even realized I was the prince until the guard acknowledged my title. The whole situation was horrifying. I could see the way the guard was looking at him and I knew I couldn’t let him take Virgil to the dungeon, so instead, I surprised both of them and myself by ordering the guard to bring him to my chambers.”

    Roman paused. “In retrospect, I've realized that action caused Virgil more even more distress. We've talked about it since, but I still can't imagine what was going through his head waiting for me. Even worse, I was delayed following them to my chambers. So, when I finally made it back to my room, the guard had bound his hands and was looming over him. He was quivering like a leaf, paler than even his usual dreary self.”

    Logan pondered for a second, when realization washed over him. “Is that why you came and got me from my cell yourself, instead of sending a guard to fetch me?”

    “I learned my lesson.” Roman nodded. “Of course, I immediately ordered the guard remove the restraints and sent him away, but the damage was done. It took me several minutes to even convince Virgil to talk to me.” Roman paused, snorting softly. “Well, what he actually did was yell at me.”

    “He yelled at you?” Logan asked in disbelief.

    “He didn't mean to, Lo. Virgil was just overwhelmed.” Logan cuddled closer to Roman and Roman smiled as he continued. “He demanded to know what I was going to do with him, and admittedly, it wasn't until that moment that I realized I didn't have a plan. Up until that point, I’d just wanted to prevent the guard from imprisoning him. So, I took a chance and offered him a job. His skills were well-developed even back then, so it actually worked in my favor.”

    Logan looked up at him, confused. “Just like that? You didn't have to get clearance from anyone or anything?”

    Roman shrugged, unconcerned. “I'm a prince. I'm allowed to make decisions like that without any sort of approval.”

    “But you were a kid.”

    “I mean, I was thirteen.” Roman smiled at him teasingly.

    “That's a child.”

    “Not when you’re royalty. Some of our crowned kings in the past were even younger than that, depending on the circumstances of their coronation.”

    “That's nonsense.” He glanced at Roman and looked away guiltily. “Sorry.”

    “No, you’re right. No child should have that much power, but I am glad I had that power that day. I wouldn’t be half the leader I am without him. He does more for me than I could have ever have asked of him, for far less credit than he deserves.” He paused, returning to his story. “Anyway, Virgil was speechless. I offered to let him stay in one of the spare rooms in the tower and I gave him the night to think it over. To this day, I'm surprised he was still there when I came back in the morning.”

    “What happened after that?” Logan asked, tiredly.

    “Our relationship was pretty rough for a few months. Virgil accused me several times of keeping him like a pet, and he was constantly on edge about how I treated him. I tried to be patient, but I was only a kid. I made a lot of mistakes.” Roman sighed. “I don't think he'd ever had the kind of stability I offered him. He suddenly had a steady home, food and extra pay to do as he pleased, so he couldn’t just walk away. He was technically free to leave, but knew doing so would have cost him. So he felt trapped, tied to me against his will.”

    “I can understand that." Logan thought out loud.

    Roman looked over to him with sadness in his eyes. “That’s why I feel so guilty about putting you in a similar situation, Lo. I never wanted to do that to someone again."

    “Roman, it's not the same.” Logan said, yawning. “I’m an adult and I understood the risks.”

    Roman bit his lip. “Still, you didn’t have much of a choice. Much like I tied Virgil to me by providing him financial support, you are entirely reliant on me to ensure your physical safety.”

    Logan shook his head. “You have offered multiple times to help me find a way out safely and I turned you down. I chose to stay here with you, Roman.”

    “Perhaps, but those offers weren't without a cost. You still would have been forced to give up everything you had, since you couldn’t return to your previous life.”

    Logan shrugged, unconcerned. "If I haven't been perfectly clear, I was not particularly attached to anything I had in my life before I met you."

    "That's not the point." Roman muttered but decided to drop the subject and continue his story. “I offered Virgil the opportunity to train under a master and hone his skills. He was already a talented thief when we met, but he improved his fighting skills and his art for reconnaissance. Honestly, I always assumed he'd save up enough money or get whatever training he wanted and just disappear without a trace. Eventually though, I think it became apparent to us both that we valued our relationship more than we’d expected. He's never given me even the slightest reason to distrust him, and in return, I do whatever I can to look out for him. After several months, he started to relax and open up to me. We eventually became actual friends, and now, I’d trust my life in his hands without a second thought.”

    “That's quite a story.” Logan slurred, clearly drifting off to sleep.

    "It really was an experience." Roman laughed softly and there was a pause. He listened closely, smiling as heard a quiet snoring coming from Logan. Roman watched him sleep for a moment, leaned gently against his shoulder as he slept. He let his arm drop from the back of the sofa down around Logan. Eventually, he would move Logan to the bed, but for now, he wanted to stay in this moment just a little while longer.

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